#football players one shots

[gadriezmannsgirl]

We can see this as a second part of my fic called Dad's Babygirl, I'm thinking of doing kind of a mini series for dad!pedri, kind of like Gender Reveal, you know? Please, let me know your thoughts about this idea!🫶🏼

Not My Name -P.G8

Summary: Your daughter found a name to call her dad, however he doesn't like it

"Pedri González!" Your 3 years old daughter, Mía; yells "Pedri, come here please!" You giggle watching her eat a banana while calling her dad "Pedri!"

"I'm here" Your one year husband said entering the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower he just took.

He aproaches Mía leaving a kiss on her hair before going over to you kissing your cheek "What's wrong, amor? Do you need help?"

"No, mi vida" You look at him shaking your head

"Why are you calling me for, then?"

"Pedri!" Mía interrups you "Pedri, look at this" She points to your tablet with a kids show

You almost laughed at the face Pedri just did, he looked over at you as you shrug your shoulders a bit

"Excuse me, young lady?" He asked "Why are you calling me like that?"

"'Cus that's your name"

"No, it's not"

"It is!"

"Not for you!"

"Pedri González López"

"Are you listening to her?" Pedri asks you as you laugh pulling out two big plates and a small one "Are you gonna do something?"

You shook your head, playing along with your daughter "That's your name tho" He gave you a look while you wink at him

"Who gave you permission to call me that?"

"Grandma Rosy calls you like that"

"Only when she's angry at me"

"So why can't I?"

"Because I'm not just Pedri to you, Mía. I'm your dad, your papaito, your daddy bear, your superhero"

"You are" She pauses, her big brown beautiful eyes looking at your husband and her rosy cheeks on display.

She is the prettiest babygirl you've ever seen.

"...But that's your name, Pedro"

"Oh, she's using real and full name now" You murmurb

"Mía Sofía González, stop doing that right now!" She laughed, banana and show long forgotten.

Mía is the light of Pedri's eyes, he would do anything and everything to see his babygirl good, happy and healthy. And Mía absolutely adores and loves her daddy as well.

"Pedro González Lopez, Pedro González López" She started yelling his name over and over again, eventually giving it a funny tone

"Alright, alright. You asked for it" Pedri lifted her up as she squealed and laughed. Pedri threw her in the couch and he jokingly dropped on top of her "The ticklish monster is here!" You smiled hearing your daughter and your husband laugh

"No, Daddy! Stop!" She asked in between laughter

"Who?" Pedri stopped as she giggled

"Pedro?"

"Ticklish Monster is back!"

"Papi! I meant papi" Pedri nodded stopping the tickle attack, grabbing Mía and putting her on his lap.

"That's better, mi princesa. No Pedri for me, I'm papá" You went behind Pedri and hugged him by his shoulders

"Pedro González López" you kissed his cheek "and Mía Sofía González Y/N" you kissed your girl's cheek "time to eat now"

"Let's go"

"Oki, mami"

"Mía" Pedri called for her as she looked at him "what's her name?" He looks at you before looking back at Mía

"Mommy"

"Well, yes; she's mommy... And her name is?"

"Her name's mommy"

"She's smart, amor. She knows her game" You laugh

"Mía"

"Her name's mommy, Pedri!"

"Mía, what did we just talked about?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[lewisvinga]

como no te voy a querer | jude bellingham x alonso! fem! reader

summary; when the princess of the paddock is dating the golden boy of real madrid but she happens to have a grid full of drivers who are very protective of her

fc; rita mota

warnings; cursing i think, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; saw fernando at the benrabeu at the semifinals and i had to…. BUT WE’RE GOING INTO THE UCL FINALLLL!!! A POR LA 15😭🤍🤍🤍 pls don’t mind the misspelt bernabéu in one of the tweets lollll

masterlist !

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liked by judebellingham, fernandoalo_official, and others !

yourusername: when in spain….

tagged; judebellingham

fernandoalo_official: siempre tan linda, mija😍 [always so pretty, my daughter]

yourusername: papáaaa🥹🥹

judebellingham: wowwwww

judebellingham: well aren’t you a lovely lady 🥴

yourusername: ur fine too i guess…🙄

yourusername: jk ur very fine 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

maxverstappen1: she’s a child.

yourusername: i’m 20????🤨

charles_leclerc: a child.

username: omg her sign for el clásico 😭what a queen tbh

username: y/n 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: jude can u fight? 🤔🤔

carlossainz55: pq estabas en españa sola??🤔 [why were you in spain alone]

yourusername: because i’m spanish and my bf lives here?🤔

fernandoalo_official: you’re with your boyfriend alone???

yourusername: no edu is always there 🙄

camavinga: 🤗🤗

judebellingham: edu😘😘

landonorris: and why are you flirting with someone else when u have a girlfriend ….

yourusername: oh like your bromance w carlos doesn’t exist !

username: nah the drivers comments are always so funny😭😭

yourusername: oh it’s torture, can’t even appreciate my sexy bf in peace 🙄

camavinga: OUR sexy bf😘

username: CAMA OH??😭

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liked by judebellingham, carmenmmundt, and others !

yourusername: i guess you could say i get my cuntiness from my dad xx

tagged; fernandoalo_official, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, landonorris, judebellingham

location; miami 🌴

username: not her tagging jude on her lips 😭😭

username: me n who ong

fernandoalo_official: i’m cunty or whatever the hell it is you guys say

yourusername: tea 💅

username: THE CHEETAHHH PRINT😍

username: here before simp jude

judebellingham: wow.

judebellingham: just wow.

judebellingham: you are unbelievable 😍😍

yourusername: 💗💗💗💗

landonorris: STAND BACK 🤺🤺🤺

judebellingham: a lot of talking for a man who asked for my jersey🥱🥱🥱

yourusername: he got you there….

landonorris: okay fine… you win this time…

username: the alonsos are so cunty

username: PARTY NANDOOOO

username: i will never get over her n jude sawrry😖😫😖

maxverstappen1: well you better.

username: HUHHH???😀

charles_leclerc: stinky man around y/n, you’ll get over it

yourusername: you guys are sooooo…..

judebellingham: max is just mad abt el clásico score 😬😬

maxverstappen1: damn right.

carlossainz55: only time jude is tolerable ��

yourusername: not very madridista of u carlos

judebellingham: yeah🙄🙄🙄

carlossainz55: y/n protector first sorry🫡

carmenmmundt: gorgeous gorgeous girl❤️❤️

yourusername: ily🥹

yourusername: also tell george to stop sending jude threats over instagram

georgerussell63: no.

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; going back home hungover 😬] [caption 2; morning 💗 judebellingham] [caption 3; date night fit 🤺] [caption 4; mi amor 🤍🤍 judebellingham]

judebellingham wow😍😍😍😍

judebellingham u single ??????

yourusername yeah:/// my bf has another bf:///

judebellingham HES MY BFF!!!!😖😖

yourusername cus why did cama see u in the showers almost naked after signing a new contract…..🤨🤨

judebellingham like you haven’t seen less🙄🙄

yourusername whyd u say that my dad saw and now’s he’s questioning me😭

yourusername he said why aren’t u preparing for the match 🙄

judebellingham ur dad is scary

judebellingham tell him the match is in 7 hours i still have chill time 🙄🙄

judebellingham DONT mention the rolling eyes emoji he is scary enough

yourusername fernando alonso??? scary??? a menace maybe,,,,🤣

yourusername good luck my love 💗 take it easy on the knee though!

judebellingham i’ll try, it’ll be a tough match:/

yourusername papa alonso said good luck too

judebellingham tell him i said tyvm😁😁😁

georgerussell63 why is he shirtless 🤨

yourusername you’re one to talk…

maxverstappen1 🤮🤮

yourusername ahhhh u madddddddd

yourusername la liga champion😛😛

maxverstappen1 i have 3 wdcs🙄🙄

yourusername and yet, real madrid won la liga!

maxverstappen1 tap in merchant 😒😒😒

yourusername ……

yourusername he scored a banger at el clasico i wouldn’t speak if i were u

maxverstappen1 😒😒😒😒

lewishamilton u should’ve been at the met 🙄

yourusername gf duties calls😞

charles_leclerc …..

charles_leclerc why is he around u naked🤔

yourusername bc he’s my bf????🤨

charles_leclerc why

yourusername bc i love him??

charles_leclerc but why

yourusername bye charles 🙄🙄🙄

charles_leclerc WHYYY

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liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and others !

yourusername: como no te voy a querer?🤍🤍 [how am i not going to love you?] congratulations on making it to the final, mi amor, te quiero mucho🤍🤍 [my love, i love you so much] and so so proud of you and the squad 🫶🫶

tagged; judebellingham, vinijr, lukamodric10

judebellingham: my lucky charm

judebellingham: i love you so much

judebellingham: te quiero 😍

yourusername: when he speaks spanish for you🥴🥴🥴

fernandoalo_official: so that’s why i can hear y/n giggling…

username: jude speaking in spanish for y/n, this is so sick

username: ME AND WHO😩😩

username: thank u y/n for blessing us w jude 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

username: can’t believe joselu scored a brace 😭

username: we gonna get a bellingol soon #trust

carlossainz55: A POR LA 15😍😍 hala madrid🤍

yourusername: now u wanna act fine w jude 🙄

carlossainz55: WHO CARES WE’RE IN THE FINAL!!!

maxverstappen1: I CARE!!! heja bvb or however it goes!!🙄🙄

oscarpiastri: you gotta respect max for keeping up the hater act icl

judebellingham: he sure hates a lot for someone who lost his win streak

maxverstappen1: hey watch it…

carlossainz55: can we get back to the fact real madrid is in the ucl final???🤍🎉🎉

judebellingham: yes😁

vinijr: Y/NNNNNNN HALA MADRIDDDDDD

yourusername: HALA MADRID NUESTO MOTM !!! [our motm/man of the match]

fernandoalo_official: good game, jude👍

judebellingham: omg thank you so much, sir! it means a lot!😊

camavinga: who are you and what did you to do my jude

aurelientchm: that’s not jude…🤣

rodrygogoes: ‘😊’

yourusername: well, he’s MY jude and he’s just scared of my dad🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: good.

landonorris: good.

lewishamilton: good.

maxverstappen1: good.

georgerussell63: good.

alex_albon: good.

judebellingham: oh! 😀

yourusername: don’t mind them🙄

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Paddock Princess

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: jude bellingham x fem!black!f1driver!reader

♥ synopsis: your boyfriend jude bellingham is welcomed with open arms by the f1 community and becomes the people’s paddock’s princess

♥ smau - fc: tyla - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive comments !!!

♥ a/n: never let em know your next move WAPOW jude fic.

-Jude Bellingham Replies to Fans on the Internet | Actually Me | GQ Sports-

“We know about your inspiration in football, but which athletes outside of football do you look up to—if any?” he read off a laptop screen.

“Uhm,” he scratched the bridge of his nose. “Probably Y/n L/n,” His face lit up with a smile as the camera crew giggled in the background. “She’s done quite a lot in her sport in such a short amount of time and I really admire her driving style, if i’m being honest. Yeah, I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching F1 recently, so probably her.”

He sent the reply and leaned back on the chair, “This is peak journalism.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmundt, judebellingham, and 1,494,027 more

yourusername i heard someone say my name?

view comments

realmadrid you heard correctly

user1 exposing him 🙊

user2 @/user1 I'm sure she's seen the video by now

user3 I wish he said my name instead tbh

user4 I wish he would do more than just say my name

user5 @/user4 SO REAL

user6 the someone in question who said her name being the hottest madrid player

yourusername @/user6 that's debatable

judebellingham @/yourusername ???

user7 have you and jude met before? I know you spend a lot of time watching madrid 🤔

yourusername hopefully I'll see him soon !!

user10 @/yourusername that doesn't answer the question...

carlossainz55 @/yourusername I can take you to meet him under one condition

yourusername @/carlossainz55 I already told you I can't give you the Ferrari seat back 😭

carlossainz55 it was worth a shot

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, judebellingham, and 1,409,582 more

yourusername first race with you 💋

view comments

scuderiaferrari we're happy to have you ❤️

user7 @/scuderiaferrari did... you buy her those flowers? 😭

user2 @/scuderiaferrari she wasn't talking to you lil bro

user1 I thought she was talking about a secret partner in this post but maybe I'm crazy

user3 @/user1 now I'm confused because I thought the same thing

user5 f1 core is not knowing if y/n made a romantic post about ferrari or a secret lover

scuderiaferrari who's not in love with us? we're hot, fast, and Italian 😉

yourusername @/scuderiaferrari OH 🫣

user6 😨

user8 RAW NEXT QUESTION

user9 why am I blushing

user10 we're not beating the car fucker allegations with this one 🔥🔥🥶

user11 ugh I hate admin. its like why do you post silly comments? what's your @? are you single?

-jude bellingham’s story-

view replies

user1 those flowers look familiar…

user2 ME WHEN

user3 i actually need him so bad

user4 @/yourusername

user5 yn we all know it’s you

liked by judebellingham, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,059,043 more

yourusername I regret to inform you that I am not dating ferrari admin and instead with the lovely @/judebellingham

view comments

judebellingham "regret"? 🤨

yourusername I called you lovely what more do you want

landonorris we all knew you were dating the second he said your name

user1 new lando lore drop he watches jude bellingham videos by himself

landonorris fuck I've been caught

user2 LETS FUCKING GO HARD LAUNCH

user3 oh how I love them

user4 they are the perfect couple

scuderiaferrari I forgive you

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,492,5028 more

judebellingham dw princess has arrived

view comments

yourusername glad you're here 😘

♡ by judebellingham

user1 yes he has 👏

user2 he's so cunty

user5 he wears her jersey hello?? 🥹

yourusername one that still has the tag on it...

judebellingham @/yourusername you didn't see that 😬

user8 wheres the rest of the madrid team?

judebellingham 🤷‍♂️

vinjir @/user8 he didn't invite us

judebellingham @/vinjir wowww snitch 🫵

liked by erling, judbellingham, landonorris, and 502,684 more

yourusername its always great to meet a fan 🫶

view comments

judebellingham I don't really consider myself a "fan" 🫤

yourusername idk you seemed like a pretty big fan of me last night 🫤

user1 oh!

user9 judeyn >>>

user10 god bless these two and all the pr training they ignored

user7 hes so fjdsjkskfj

user6 I need him so bad

yourusername @/user6 same

user8 I'm gonna need full time wag jude from now on

judebellingham quitting my job rn 🏃‍♂️💨

[oraltraditionfiction]

We listen and we don’t judge | MM7

Mason Mount x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: you and Mason do the 'we listen and we don't judge' challenge

Word Count: 370 word, short little blurb <3

Authors Note: tbh not tiktok people but we thought this was a cute prompt. this is my first fic ever, pls enjoy! -🦷

You set your phone up on the bathroom counter while Mason adjusts his hair in the mirror.

“What are we doing again,” he mumbles, distracted by a patch of spiky hair. 

“The we listen and we don’t judge thing,” you say as you adjust the phone, “people have been requesting it in my comments for weeks.” He nods, turning to kiss your cheek as you press record. 

“We listen and we don’t judge,” You clasp your hands together. “Mase, we have to say it together!”

He throws his hands up, breaking into a small smile. You turn back to the camera, “Okay, I’ll go first.” 

You turn to the camera and whisper conspiratorially, “Sometimes, when you’re at physio, I let the puppy on the couch.” He breaks into laughter, the two of you just barely managing to choke out “We listen and we don’t judge.”

Mason clears his throat and tries to supress a smile, “Sometimes instead of separating the laundry, I throw it all in at once.”

“Is that why my socks are pink?” You say in fake indignation. 

“We listen and we don’t judge,” the two of you chorus. Trying to remain composed, you choke out, “Sometimes when you talk about golf, I think about what we’re eating for dinner instead.” 

He turns to you with an overexaggerated pout, pausing to think for a moment. He turns away from you sheepishly, “One time while I was putting the dishes away, I broke two of your wine glasses and never told you.” 

Your eyes widen and you turn towards him, “You told me they were at the back of the cabinet!” 

“I’ll replace them eventually!” He protests, trying to wrap an arm around you. Looking at him with fake annoyance, you spit out, “Sometimes I eat in the bed when you aren’t home.”

At this, he looks at you horrified, “Babe, that’s disgusting…” You turn and hide your face. He takes this chance to say, “Sometimes after I put on my shoes and I forget something, I walk through the house with them on.” You whip your head around, your jaw dropped, “Mase!” 

The two of you break out laughing, his arms wrapping around you, the video long forgotten.

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 , 𝐉𝐁𝟓

summary , the daughter of lewis hamilton and a 3 time f1 world champion life is pretty great especially now that you have found a special someone

pairing , jude bellingham x fem! hamilton! redbull! f1 driver! reader

main masterlist | football masterlist

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton judebellingham 76,389,589 others

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton judebellingham 102,890,199 others

yourinstagram winter break photodump pt. 5

view comments

user my wife is a madrid...I don't know what to do with why self now

user stay away from my wifey mr. hey jude lookin ass

user MR BELLINGHAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user it couple is cookin ya'll

user love that mother is living her best life

user bae wake up Y/N posted a winter break photo dump

user OKAY BUT THAT LAST PIC EXCUSE ME?!?!?!

user madam who got you those flowers

user jude better be careful or papa hamilton gonna have his head if he even thinks about trying anything with his daughter

user why am I kinda living from the idea of these two being a couple

user are you dating jude?

user Y/N come home the kids miss you

user 4th wdc pending...

user so we all know who the guy in the last slide is right?

user love my soon to be parents

user the queen soft launching wasn't on my 2024 bingo card

view more comments

TRENTSKI

JUDITH

EXPLAIN YOUR SELF

JUDITH

huh?

RICE RICE BABY

did you really think you could sneek your way into Y/N Hamilton's ig dump and we wouldn't find out?

JUDITH

yes?

SANCHOOOO

SO YOU ADMIT IT

IT IS YOU

MEEK MEALS

glad you finally got together

I was getting sick and tired of you talking about her 24/7

JACK RABBIT

I'm surprised he even got the strength to talk to her

STAR BOY

right?

his brain normally turns to mush when ever her name is mentioned

proud of you bro

JUDITH

thx kyo

I always knew you were a real one

TRENTSKI

damn I see how it is then....

RICE RICE BABY

trents going dark lads

in his sad girl era

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

so wait who knows about you 2 being together?

SANCHOOOO

besides the entire intent after that photo dump?

MEEK MEALS

LMFAOOO

STAR BOY

tell lewis he's the goat

JUDITH

hahah funny

let us have our damatic soft launch

obvi you guys know

the only others that know are max, sebastian, and charles

I'll let lewis know when he figures out I'm dating his daughter this Saturday

JACK RABBIT

mate your fucked

TRENTSKI

DAMN

secret forbbiden romance

didn't know you were built like that jude

MEEK MEALS

what do you mean Lewis fucking Hamilton doesn't know you are dating HIS DAUGHTER

SANCHOOOO

pray for jude guys

these might be his last days with us

STAR BOY

he shall be missed

JACK RABBIT

dw jude I'll delete your search history of you stalking Y/N's ig and twitter

JUDITH

thanks guys...

wiss me luck

TRENTSKI

break a leg

RICE RICE BABY

don't die

MEEK MEALS

good luck

SANCHOOOO

you going to die

STAR BOY

what colour coffin do you want?

I'm thinking bright pink and rinestones

JACK RABBIT

do you need a get away driver?

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

before you die get me and ronnie a hat singed by Y/N and Lewis

JUDITH

I feel so loved rn

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton maxverstappen1 98,328,479 others

lewishamilton replied to your story!

he's a good lad

but if he hurt's you

winning a trohpy will be the last of his concern

okay dad I'll relay that message to him

good

also don't forget to use projection...

DAD OMG STOP

carlossainz55 replied to your story!

¡HALA MADRID!

maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

Christian is asking if Jude wants to come to the team dinner before the livery launch?

also if he hurts you I will run him over with our matching aston martins

landonorris replied to your story!

what does he smell like?

[ennkis]

Hii, i would like to request for Jude Bellingham 🫶🏻 The match between England and Slovakia just ended sooo i was thinking maybe some little angst with reader from Slovakia (because i'm from there🫶🏻) like he would be sad if she wouldn't wear his jersey or her little mad after the match because her country lost, Thank you, have a great day 💗💗

PATRIOTIC (jude bellingham x reader)

summary : in which y/n is a true patriot to her country

face claim : no-one exact

notes : I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! given the fact im also slovak (jedine vsž !!!). this match was a traumatic experience tbh and i was on the edge of my seat (literally) while watching.. i feel like jude is doing everything to go against my silly ahh.. first joining the rival (madrid) and now knocking out my country from the euros man.. since slovakia is gone, time to cheer for spain and netherlands #vamosandstuff

pairings : jude bellingham x slovak!reader

y/n, long time girlfriend of jude bellingham, could be considered a patriot when it came to sports. on an average day, you could say she hated slovakia. the politicians were horrid, inflation was growing by the week, dumb decisions made by the parliament. but when there was an international tournament, like the hockey world championship or the euros, her national pride was next level. she would proudly wear her jersey with the double cross and the red, white and blue colors and cheer for slovakia like her life depended on it.

this year, the euros were particularly exciting. slovakia had managed to advance to the round of sixteen after a tense tie with romania. the whole country was buzzing with anticipation. y/n, however, had a unique point of view on all of this. she was dating jude bellingham, the english youngster, and their teams were about to face off.

the atmosphere in the stadium was wild. y/n sat in her seat, heart pounding, wearing her slovakia jersey with her name on the back. jude knew she was here, but he didn’t know she’d be wearing that jersey. until now, hes only seen her wear an england jersey with a big number 10 on the back while he was playing. the round of sixteen had brought slovakia against england, and the tension was kinda scary.

the game started off intensely. slovakia's forward, ivan schranz, scored a goal in the 25th minute, sending the slovak fans into a frenzy. you could hear that "SLOVENSKOOOO" in your bones. y/n couldn't help but join in on the celebrations, her heart filling with pride. she glanced at jude on the field, knowing how badly he wanted to advance, but in that moment, all she wanted was for slovakia to beat england.

as the minutes ticked by, the match felt like it was dragging. england pressed hard, but slovakia's defense held strong. y/n's anxiety grew with each passing second. she knew jude was frustrated, but she also knew he was a relentless player.

then, in the 95th minute, jude did the unthinkable. he scored a stunning bicycle kick, tying the game. y/n’s heart sank. she wanted to jump up and celebrate his incredible goal, but the reality of what it meant for slovakia hit her hard. the game was now tied, and the prospect of overtime sneaked ominously.

another thing that kind of pissed y/n off was the way jude celebrated. i mean, come on. you scored against your girlfriend's national team, and that's how you celebrate? of course, it's a very passionate game, but it still hurt, obviously.

overtime began, and y/n's fear became reality. just 50 seconds in, harry kane scored, putting england ahead. slovakia struggled to find an equalizer, and as the final whistle blew, y/n felt a mix of anger, disappointment, and sadness. slovakia's journey in the euros was over, and it was mainly because of the man she loved.

after the match, jude came looking for y/n, a smile on his face. "did you see my goal?" he asked, clearly excited.

y/n, still wearing her slovakia jersey, felt a surge of annoyance. "yeah, i saw it," she replied curtly. jude's smile faded as he noticed her tone.

"what's wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"jude, read the damn room," y/n muttered, turning away. she didn't want to start an argument here, not now.

jude sighed, sensing her mood. "i’m sorry, baby. i know you wanted slovakia to win."

"of course i did? but it's not just that," she said, her voice softening slightly. "let's just drop it for now."

"alright then.." jude reluctantly agreed and went out to dinner with his teammates to celebrate. y/n stayed behind in their hotel room, her mind racing. she knew she was being irrational, but the mix of emotions was overwhelming. how could she be happy for jude when her own team had been eliminated?

hours passed, and when jude returned, the tension in the room was thick. y/n's frustration had only grown. jude, sensing the impending argument, he tried to lighten the mood. "you know, you looked cute in that slovakia jersey," he teased.

y/n glared at him. "really, jude? that's what you want to talk about right now?"

jude's expression hardened. "what's your problem, y/n? i played my heart out there."

"my problem?" y/n snapped. "my problem is that you ruined our chance. you ghosted the whole match and then suddenly scored a stinker in added time."

jude's eyes narrowed. "i was doing my job, y/n. i’m supposed to score goals, remember? and why the hell were you wearing that jersey anyway? do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

"oh, so now it's about your feelings?" y/n shot back. "you think it’s easy for me? watching you celebrate while my team gets eliminated?"

"and you think it was easy for me?" jude retorted. "seeing you cheer for the other team? i thought you’d at least be supportive of me, no matter what."

"other team?? you mean my team??? also, what do you mean by supportive?" y/n scoffed. "how can i support you when you’re one of the main reasons we lost? i know it’s just a game, jude, but it still hurts."

"you’re being ridiculous," jude said, his voice rising. "this isn’t just about the game, is it?"

"of course it is! what are you on about?" y/n replied, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

jude ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. "you’re mad at me for doing my job? for helping my team? you knew what this was from the start."

"it's not just about that! it's the way you celebrated, like you didn’t care about what it meant to me!" y/n shot back, her voice breaking. "you scored a goal and acted like you won the fucking world cup. did you even think about how i felt?"

jude’s face softened slightly, but he was still visibly upset. "i’m a footballer, y/n. scoring goals is what i do. it’s my passion, my career. i can’t just switch that off because of you."

"i’m not asking you to switch it off," she said, wiping her eyes. "i’m asking you to be considerate. to think about what it means for me and my country."

jude sighed deeply, frustration giving way to a partial understanding. "i get that, but you need to understand my side too. i can’t not play my best because of our relationship. it’s unfair to my teammates, to the fans."

"i didn’t mean to hurt you," jude said quietly. "i was caught up in the moment. i’m sorry if it came off wrong."

jude stared at her, his anger slowly giving way to realization. "y/n, i never wanted you to feel like that," he said, his tone softening. "i love you, and i cannot imagine you not supporting me from the sidelines."

y/n looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "okay. but next time, maybe don’t celebrate like you just scored in the finals when you score against us."

jude chuckled softly, pulling her into a hug. "deal. and maybe next time, wear my jersey instead of yours?"

she laughed, the tension finally breaking. "we’ll see about that."

as they held each other, y/n felt the weight of the argument lifting, replaced by a renewed sense of understanding and love. they might come from different worlds, but they were determined to make it work, no matter the challenges.

if anyone was interested in my dads entire match commentary 😊

"a mame po turnaji" means were fucked (basically)😭🙏🏽

[xndrexcruz]

Unexpected Love (smau)

✮- pairing: joão félix x fem!reader

✮- faceclaim: madison beer

✮- summary: when an unexpected turn of events causes a beloved pop star and a rising fútbol star to unexpectedly fall in love and share their story through social media

✮- warnings: none

✮- author’s note: this is pure fiction, also this is my first time doing anything like this so if you have any tips or feedback that would be great. also jude bellingham and reader have a pure platonic friendship.

@username1

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by 691,652 others

username1 are we gonna talk about what my man just said a few minutes ago..

view all 88,793 comments

username2 UHMM… when was this?!? (not that im mad about this at all 🌚)

username3 SAY WHATTTT

username4 wait why do i kinda ship…

username5 he’s upgrading 😌✊

username6 MY WIFE AND HUSBAND!?!!?

@yourusername

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by sabrinacarpenter, itsnicolewallace, judebellingham, and 1,920,077 others

yourusername finishing my newest album can be expected to drop later this week 🤍🎶

view all 72,583 comments

sabrinacarpenter can’t wait to listen ☺️

yourusername liked this comment

username7 can we be expecting any feature by anyone 🌚

username8 i wish i wanna see her feature with someone again!!

username9 i’ve been counting down the days since your last album im so excited!

judebellingham can you even play the guitar? 🤨

yourusername yes now why are you hating 😒

judebellingham IM JUST ASKING

@yourusername

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by joaofelix79, judebellingham, milliebobbybrown, and 2,973,328

yourusername ackk i can’t believe it after 2 motnths of working my ass off y’all can finally go stream UNEXPECTED ENCHANTMENT 😌 anddd not only that but i’ll be having a tour in europe/the uk for it as well, so go buy tickets if interested i’d love to see all of you there! 🤗 i’m so happy that i was able to pull this off in the spam of 2 months thanks to not just my production team but a certain someone who might or might not be my muse thank you 😉 but HOPE YALL LOVE UNEXPECTED ENCHANTMENT!!! 🫶🏼

view all 962,895 comments

judebellingham so did your “muse” send all those flowers 👀

yourusername wouldn’t you like to know

username10 not jude being a chismoso

username11 he’s so real for that

username12 i love their relationship

theweekend congrats on your album

yourusername liked this comment

username13 okay joão i see you liking her post 🌚

username14 our man is finally making a move 🙈

username15 can’t he just like her post?

username13 i’m just saying he might be liking it since he likes her

username16 ARE WE NOT GONNA ADDRESS SHE PRACTICALLY SAID SHE HAS A BF BY CALLING HIM HER MUSE AND THE WINKY FACE?!?!

username17 NO CAUSE LITERALLY WHAT ARE THE THEORIES GUYSS

@joaofelix79 just posted a story!

seen by 8,459,035

@joaofelix79

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by yourusername, pablogavi, redbullracing and 1,156,833 others

joaofelix79 thank you for the amazing experience, i had a lot of fun! 🏎️

tagged @f1 and @redbullpor

view all 378,563 comments

username18 YOURE SO FINE JOÃO 🤭

username19 OMGGG DONT PANICK BUT Y/N LIKED

username20 AHHH SCREAMING AND CRYING

username21 uhmm wasn’t y/n supposed to be at this event too ?? 👀

username22 are we not gonna talk about who took these pictures 🧐

username23 probably his manager or a photographer?

@yourusername

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by scuderiaferrari, joaofelix79, redbullracing, and 1,847,384 others

yourusername fast cars and even faster melodies! had a blast at the event! 🏎️🎶

tagged @redbullracing

view all 153,472 comments

username24 spotted at the same event…. is it official yet? ❤️

username25 woww you and joão are both here! coincidence? i think not! 😉

username26 it was not a coincidence let’s be honest 😏

redbullracing we were happy to have you! come again soon

yourusername dw you’ll see me again!

@yourusername just posted a story!

seen by 7,749,264

judebellingham has replied to your story

is it who i presume it is ⁉️

yourusername

who knows maybe.. 🤷🏻‍♀️

judebellingham

girl you know damn well 😒

fraternizing with the enemy is a big no no

yourusername

womp womp

go cry about it ☺️

judebellingham

i see where ur loyalty stands now 😔

@foxsoccerspn

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by 472,859 others

foxsoccerspn joão félix’s pointing gesture says it all. a win dedicated to someone special in the crowd! 🌹

tagged @joaofelix79

view all 328,561 comments

username27 pointing to his lucky charm? 🫣

username28 idk what else y’all need as proof to him and y/n dating SHE WAS LITERALLY AT THE GAME

username29 i really hope they are cause i shipppp!!

username30 this celebration means everything 🥰

username31 he’s so sweet i need a joão to my y/n like by yesterday

@yourusername just posted a story!

seen by 9,475,946

@barcelonasportsnews

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by hugofelix18 and 368,946 others

barcelonasportsnews caught by surprise! joão félix and y/n l/n, from stages and fields to barcelona’s streets! 🌇❤️

tagged @joaofelix79 and @yourusername

view all 274,921 comments

username32 I CALLED IT FROM THE START AND YALL ALL SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL

username33 awww they’re so cute wth 🥺

username34 HELLO ?? ARE WE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT HUGO LIKING THE POST

username35 NO CAUSE I HAD TO DOUBLE CHECK TOO 😭

username36 the new it couple 😍

username37 i’m just so happy he’s moved on from magui

username38 as he should she’s a bop 😝

@yourusername

❤️ 💬 ↗️

liked by joaofelix79, lamineyamal, judebellingham, and 4,643,275 others

yourusername he’s got a way of turning every doubt into gold, with him by my side, there’s a story yet untold 💗

tagged @joaofelix79

view all 2,975,832 comments

joaofelix79 minha linda namorada 💗 (my pretty girlfriend 💗)

yourusername o meu lindo namorado 💗 (my pretty boyfriend 💗)

username39 AHH ITS FINALLY OFFICIAL

username40 i knew her album was about him 🤭🤭

lamineyamal mis padres ✌🏽(my parents ✌🏽)

yourusername mi niño (my boy)

joaofelix79 creí que yo era tu chico 😒 (i thought i was your boy 😒)

yourusername mmm los dos? (😁 mmm both of y’all? 😁)

useranme41 he’s living proof you can get with your celebrity crush!

[leilakisakabiri]

Jealousy, Jealousy (Gavi)

Summary: You realize that Gavi never gets jealous when other guys are around you and it makes you question if he still likes you. 

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hey! I had some inspiration to write so here I am! I’m trying to release shorter fics while I work on my longer ones. Requests are open!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Masterlist

The first time it happened, you felt relieved that Gavi had decided not to make a scene and instead chose to calmly defuse the situation.

The two of you had been at a club late one night, the high from Barcelona winning hours before pumping through your veins. He had his arms wrapped around you as you both danced to whatever Spanish song the DJ was mixing.

You laughed as he spun you around before pulling you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he moved a strand of hair out of your face. 

"I'm going to grab another drink. Want to come?"

His breath was hot against your ear, and even though it felt like a million degrees in the club, and you were sweating through your dress, you still shivered, his voice sending shockwaves through your system no matter how many times you heard it.

You looked up, locking eyes, "I'm good, I'll save our spot."

He kissed the top of your head before letting go, "Ok I'll be back in a second. Try and find the others if you can."

You gave him an awkward thumbs up as he walked away and he chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.

The two of you had been dating for just shy of three weeks.

You had been friends for months before dating, with you initially being introduced to him through his hometown friends. Then there was a three-month period where you both liked each other but were too scared to admit it and ruin the friendship. Finally, Gavi caved after spending two weeks away from you without contact while he playing in the U.S.

Since he admitted his feelings for you that night on the steps of your shitty college house, he had jumped straight into the relationship, inviting you to his games, to hang out with his friends, and private dinners. You on the other hand still felt like an awkward pre-teen girl every time you were with him, he just made you feel giddy inside, and you reacted to things he said so intensely that the only way to cover it up was with strange humor and stupid jokes.

That led you to now. Sometimes being around him was so overwhelming because you were always scared you would say something to embarrass yourself, and although he never made you feel any less worthy you couldn't help but feel like he could be with someone much better than you.

As you stood there contemplating, you felt a body collide with yours, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts.

You stumbled, feeling hands come up to grip your elbows, stabilizing you.

"Shit- my bad."

You looked up seeing the guy holding you sporting a white button-down and an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, those guys just pushed me. Some friends." He said referring to the group of five or so extremely drunk boys behind you.

You shook your head, "No worries, I wasn't paying attention either."

He smiled, leaning a bit closer, hands still on your elbows, "Hey do I know you? You look really familiar.”

You squinted your eyes as you gazed at him, trying to figure out if you knew him.

"Eh I go to Universitat de Barcelona if that helps."

His eyes lit up at your words, and he nodded, "Yeah, that's totally how I know you. I think you're in my biology class."

You groaned, "No way the one at 8 a.m.?", he nodded, "I'm barely awake for that lecture." you muttered.

"Mean either but it's hard not to notice you."

You only heard half his sentence and looked at him confused, "Sorry what?"

His lips tugged up in a smile as he bent down, shifting closer to you, "I said it's hard not to notice you."

You felt your breath stop as you realized what you had gotten yourself into. You made a move to shy away when you heard Gavi call your name.

You lifted your head seeing him approaching as he carried your drink, "Hey who's this?"

You went to interject and tell him it was no one but the guy next to you interrupted, "Hey man, I got to school with her.”

Gavi nodded, accepting his answer as he handed you your drink, "Oh class friend?"

You went to speak but were again cut off by the guy next to you, who had still to let go of your elbow.

"Something like that."

You saw Gavi's posture slightly straighten at his words but he relaxed a second later, "Alright."

The guy turned to you saying something about seeing you in class and then proceeded to give you a hug, his arms wrapping around your lower back.

You noticed Gavi watching the exchange but he made no comment.

You approached him timidly, unsure of if he was going to say anything about the situation, but he paid it no mind, going back to casual conversation with you.

At the time you let out a breath, thankful that he seemed intent on letting you handle your own situation.

That thankfulness soon turned to annoyance and then confusion when similar situations happened time and time again and he made no effort to speak up.

You supposed it was good he never got jealous because you knew it could get very overbearing very fast, and yet, you couldn't help the twinge of defeat you felt every time someone tried to make a move on you and he did nothing to stop them or even show a ounce of emotion.

Slowly it was making you start to question your relationship with Gavi.

Why did he not get jealous? Was it because he didn't see others as a threat? Or didn't feel the need to because you weren't as pretty as the other girls he was seen with? Maybe he simply didn't care? Or perhaps he wasn't the type?

You knew the last one couldn't possibly be true because he was absolutely the type. His entire career was based on his passion, determination, and aggression to get where he wanted. His aggression is what made him so competitive and a loyal player. So if he was so driven and passionate on the field, why was that not carrying over into your relationship?

It wasn't until almost two months later that things came to a boiling point.

It was the last game of the pre-season for Barcelona and spirits were high, everyone hoping they could seal off a great season, and enter a new one, with a win.

The stadium was filled to the brim with fans and reporters. The family section was also full with player's partners and families coming to support them in the final game of the summer.

You were sitting next to Anna, the two of you talking about school, work, and life.

Eventually, the game started and you went into full-on fan mode - cheering along when Barca made impressive plays and booing when they were tackled.

The stadium was abuzz with energy, and you basked in everyone's excitement.

You gripped Anna's hand as you saw Gavi running up the sidelines towards the other team's defense, Joao running parallel to him.

You saw him sidestep, dodging the defender, and suddenly the ball was soaring, perfectly landing at Joao's feet as he placed it into the back of the net.

The two of you jumped up, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. It seemed like Barcelona would have its victory after all.

After the game, you stayed in the family section for a while chatting with Pedri's parents as you waited for the players to make a re-emerge.

You bid goodbye to them when you got a text from Gavi telling you to come down.

You made your way down to the field, waiting behind the barricades for him to appear.

The other team's players appeared first, signing fans t-shirts and taking photos.

"Need something signed?"

You saw a player from the other team approach you, waving a sharpie in his hand.

You pointed at your jersey playfully, "No thanks. I'm a Barca girl if you couldn't tell."

He grinned, "Ahh c'mon what will it take for me to convince you?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Ride or die sorry."

He clutched his hand to his heart in mock offense, "Ouch. I'm hurt, but I'm not giving up."

You gave him a smile, remaining polite, as you looked over his shoulder for Gavi.

"Oh I know!" he exclaimed, directing your attention back to him.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking off his shirt, "Here, new jersey for you."

He held it out to you, and you gave him an unimpressed look.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Alright fine. I'll sign it, but only cause you asked so nicely."

You watched amused as he signed the jersey before offering it to you.

You squinted your eyes at him.

He dangled the jersey in his hands, "C'mon take it. You know a lot of people would pay good money for this."

You reached out to grab it, "Fine, but only because I'm going to sell it later."

He held up his hands in surrender, "It's yours now. Do whatever."

You thought the conversation would end there but he made no effort to leave, "Who are you here with anyway? Someone in Barca?"

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off.

"Me."

You whipped your head to see that Gavi had silently approached the two of you.

Besides yourself, you felt a tiny part of you waiting with bated breath for him to do something, to finally dig his boots in the ground and say something, but he remained impassive.

"Hey."

"Hey, you ready to go?" Gavi asked.

You nodded your head, unsure of how to leave the situation.

"I can lift you over the barricade if you need." The other player spoke up, and your eyes immediately flitted over to Gavi's to gauge his reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed but he didn't say anything.

You debated for a second, just to get Gavi to react, but quickly decided against it, opting to just walk around the barricade.

You approached the two of them quickly and with a hasty goodbye followed Gavi as he left the pitch. You heard the other player shout a 'see you around', and you waved in response.

You broke the silence first as you walked the empty tunnel, "Great game baby. You did amazing."

"Thanks."

His reply was clipped.

He went to hold your hand and you shifted the jersey last second to your other hand, catching his attention.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that guy gave me his jersey. I'm going to sell it." You explained, telling him how you were expecting to make hundreds.

He listened along till you finished.

"Can I see the jersey?"

You nodded handing it to him.

You swung your joint hands as you walked, talking to him about the game as he examined the jersey.

Abruptly he dropped your hand, mouth set in a firm line.

Your eyebrows stitched together, "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat before handing you the jersey.

"I think there's something for you on it."

"I forgot something in the locker room, I'll be right back." He continued.

You looked down confused, eyes scanning the text before it clicked.

The jersey had the player's phone number on it.

You lifted your head seeing him already walking away, "Gavi wait. Can you stop for a minute?"

He turned around but continued moving, "Yeah what?"

"Stop moving!” You exclaimed, your frustration building as he continued to not express any interest in the situation.

He finally halted and you closed the distance between the two of you.

"Is there something wrong with me? Do you not like me anymore or something?"

He seemed taken aback by your words and several emotions flitted across his face, "What are you talking about?"

You took a breath, it was now or never.

"I'm not trying to sound conceited, but I'm pretty sure that guy was hitting on me-"

"He was." Gavi confirmed.

You continued, "So then why don't you care? I'm your girlfriend, so why aren't you getting jealous when other guys hit on me?"

"You want me to get jealous?" He asked incredulously.

"I mean I don't want you to become super overprotective or anything, but it would be nice if you at least acknowledged when someone is trying to get with me right in front of you. I know I would get jealous if someone was saying that to you."

"You don't think I get jealous?" His voice had a hard edge to it, and suddenly you felt like you might have read between the lines wrong.

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure, "I mean you don't show it."

"Of course I'm going to notice when some guy is eye fucking my girl one foot away from me, I'm not fucking blind."

"Then why don't you say anything?" You pressed.

“Shit y/n that's cause I don't want to scare you away!"

His admission only confused you further, and you lowered your voice acutely aware that your shouts were probably carrying far in the quiet tunnel,

"Scare me away? Why would that scare me?"

He shook his head, "The press is always making me out to be this bad guy. This kid that doesn't know how to get his temper in check and - mierda y/n - I don't want to get into this right now."

You relented, unwilling to give in, biting the bullet, "Alright so next time someone asks to lift me up, their just being friendly right? Trying to be helpful?"

His eyes blazed, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

You lifted your hands in frustration, "No Gavi actually I don't know that. You act like you don't even care."

"I care! Trust me y/n I care!" He argued.

"Then show me."

His lips were on yours before you had even finished processing what you were saying. His skin felt hot against yours as his fingers sank into your hipbone, crowding you against the wall.

You lost your train of thought as you got lost in the sensation he provided you. One hand went to tangle in his hair, as the other draped around his neck bringing him impossibly closer.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt, as he kissed you senseless. You finally pulled away for a breath but he didn't stop, moving to lay a trail of kisses from the sweet spot behind your ear, down your neck, and onto your collarbone.

You left out a soft moan underneath him, the feeling causing tingles in your spine, and a fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"We should really sto- fuck gavi - so-someone could walk in any moment." You reminded him.

"Just gotta leave a mark." He replied.

You nodded before his words caught up to you and you pushed him off, "What? No marks! I have to meet your parents tonight." You whined.

He grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic, "At least people will know you're mine now."

[gul4bjamoons]

✩ the sparks of sunrise; 

           omar marmoush ────── 

what happens when a certain receptionist finds herself drawn to the charm of the club’s newest signing?

⭑  wordcount : three thousand one hundred fifty-seven.

⭑  notes : i was supposed to put this up when he was announced but was sick out of my mind so whoops– enjoy it on his debut day instead ;)

˙⋆✮ masterlist.

Morning light filters softly through tall windows, illuminating the polished floors. Outside, the city stirs, slowly waking. Inside, the gentle hum of morning routines unfolds—the shuffle of feet, hushed voices. It’s a rhythm you know well, yet today feels different. 

A stillness hangs in the air, anticipation crackling as you prepare to meet Omar Marmoush, the club's newest signing. The buzz around him has been impossible to ignore—young, incredibly talented, a player with potential that could light up the field. But it’s not just his skill that’s caught everyone’s attention; it’s his reputation for being something of an enigma. Quiet, reserved, almost unreachable. The kind of guy who keeps to himself, preferring to let his play do the talking.

When the glass doors slide open, Omar steps through with a grace that seems almost calculated. The moment he enters, the air shifts. His presence is commanding despite his almost shy demeanor. There’s something about him—something that makes you pause for just a beat, like the sudden change of a breeze on a warm day. It’s not just his height or the way the light catches his sharp features; it’s the quiet confidence that emanates from him, like an unspoken promise of something more. 

His eyes, dark and observant, scan the room before landing on you, and when they do, there's a quiet intensity there, almost as if he's studying you in return.

"Good morning," you greet, offering him a warm, easy smile as you glance up from your desk. Your voice is light, the corners of your lips lifting automatically. "You’re early. Didn’t expect anyone for a while."

Omar’s gaze meets yours, his eyes steady, his expression unreadable at first, but then his lips quirk into a small, confident smile. “I prefer to be early,” he says, his voice calm and smooth, like the slow roll of waves lapping against the shore. “Can’t afford to waste time, right?”

The words are confident, but there’s a faint, almost undetectable edge of uncertainty in his eyes. You’ve seen it before, in other athletes, in other people who carry the weight of expectation on their shoulders. 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the way he seems to carry himself. “Agreed.” you reply, leaning back slightly in your chair, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Not many players are here though. I think the only one you’ll find around is the coach.”

His eyes flicker toward the hallway, his gaze momentarily distant, as if imagining the journey ahead. “I’m fine with that,” he says, readjusting his gym bag while stepping away. “I just need to get out on the pitch again.” 

You smile, amused. "Okay, but just so you know, the hall can be a bit of a maze. You’ll want to go straight, past the gym, and then left. It’s easy to get lost your first time."

Omar waves you off with a casual flick of his wrist, his grin still intact, but you notice something in the way his shoulders tense, the slightest hesitation in his movements. “I’ll manage.” he replies, a little too confidently, as if he’s trying to convince both you and himself.

There’s something about the way he says it, though—the way his jaw tightens just a little, the way his hands curl at his sides—that tells you he’s not entirely sure of himself. It’s the instinct of someone who’s used to standing alone, used to figuring things out in his own way. It’s also the instinct of someone who’s afraid of being seen as anything less than perfect.

“Alright,” you say with a knowing smile, unable to resist teasing him just a little. “But if you do get lost, I’ll be right here to help. Can’t promise I won’t make fun of you for it, though.”

Omar chuckles, a quiet self-awareness that lingers beneath the surface. “I won’t need that.” he says, his voice light and teasing, but you see the way his cheeks flush a little, the color creeping up his neck like a telltale sign. He’s not fooling you. 

You watch him carefully, noticing the way his posture straightens, his steps purposeful, yet unsure. And then, instead of turning right, where you’d directed him, he veers left, heading confidently down the middle of the hall towards the trophy room. 

You can’t help but laugh softly to yourself. 

"Hold on!" you call out, your voice light and teasing. "Didn’t you hear me? You’re supposed to head right. The locker room is the other way.” You push away from the desk and stand up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the floor as you make your way toward him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

Omar freezes mid-step, his body jerking just slightly, and then he turns slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. His cheeks flush, and the awkwardness is palpable, but in that instant, he’s more human than anything else. 

“Oh, I misunderstood.” he admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “My bad.”

"Don’t worry," you say softly, the teasing lilt in your voice making it clear you’re not holding it against him. “It happens to the best of us. The walls here can be tricky.”

He chuckles, a quieter, more genuine sound now, and you notice how the tension seems to melt away from his shoulders. “Guess I was too caught up in my mind” he says with a half-shrug, the easy arrogance of earlier replaced with something more sincere.

“Yeah, that happens,” you reply, matching his pace. "But you’re going to want to pay attention to the signs, especially if you’re trying to avoid making a fool of yourself in front of the team. Good luck!”

Omar laughs and for the first time, you sense a little vulnerability behind that seemingly impenetrable exterior. "I’m sure they’ll forgive me. First day and all."

“First impressions are everything,” you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as you walk. Your eyes meet, and for a heartbeat, there’s a spark there—a connection that neither of you acknowledges out loud, but it lingers between you, quiet and unspoken. “But lucky for you, I’ll make sure it’s a good one.”

As you approach the locker room, Omar’s steps slow, and he looks over at you with a smile. "Thanks. I guess I wasn’t as prepared as I thought.” he admits, his voice quieter now, the weight of his earlier bravado replaced by a touch of humility.

You give him slight shrug. "It’s no problem. The first day’s always the hardest. Besides, it's good to have someone show you around—no matter how much you think you’ve got it under control."

He looks at you one last time, and the expression on his face is a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more fleeting and harder to pinpoint. "I owe you one, I guess."

“No worries,” you reply, stepping aside to let him pass. “But you better keep that ego in check—next time, I won’t be here to bail you out.”

As the door swings closed behind him, you smile to yourself, the quiet satisfaction settling in your chest. He’ll fit right in here—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Guess first impressions do matter.

-       

Outside, the world was still drowsy, waiting for the sun to summon it into action. But inside the building, it had already begun. The soft rustle of movement—slightly muffled footsteps down the hall or the faint hum of the HVAC system sputtering to life.

You sat behind the reception desk, bathed in the amber glow of the early morning sunlight. The air was cool, with just enough crispness to make you feel awake but not rushed. The soft buzz of your computer, the shuffle of papers between your fingers—everything felt familiar, grounding. As if this quiet moment could stretch on forever, and you could lose yourself in it without fear. 

The door opened, a soft sigh of movement that cut through the stillness taking you from your thoughts. And there he was. Omar Marmoush. Just as he had been for the last few mornings—before anyone else, sometimes even before the coach. The space bent to his presence, the stillness rippling around him as if acknowledging that this was his moment, his time.

He donned his City kit, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders, and the way it fit him—neat and purposeful—wasn’t just athletic, it was almost sculptural. His dark eyes caught yours instantly, as if your presence had always been part of the plan. 

"Good morning, Mr. Marmoush," you said, the words slipping out almost automatically. Your voice chirped the greeting that had become familiar over the last few days. 

"Good morning," He replied, his voice carrying the same smooth confidence as always. He lingered at the counter, his eyes studying you for a beat longer than usual, as if he were contemplating something.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing at your lips, the sparkle in your eyes sharp and knowing. "You’re up early like usual," you remarked, the words slightly mocking him. "Not many players are awake at this hour."

"I like the quiet," Omar said, his voice lowering, a touch of something more honest there. "Helps me focus. No distractions before the chaos begins."

You allowed yourself a soft smile, the corner of your mouth lifting in quiet acknowledgment. "I thought you liked the spotlight," you teased, your voice light, playful. "Doesn’t the chaos suit you?"

His smile returned, but it was more guarded now, a shield back in place. "I do," he said with a shrug, a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But sometimes, it’s good to step away from all that. Makes the work feel... more real, you know?"

You leaned back in your chair, the soft creak of the leather adding a sound to the stillness around you. "I get it," you said, your voice a touch softer now. "Still, not sure many people would show up before their boss just for a little peace and quiet."

His gaze held yours a moment longer, that familiar intensity flickering again, and you couldn’t help but feel the subtle challenge in it. "Some of us like to be ahead of the game," he said, his voice carrying the weight of something unspoken, something that suggested this wasn’t just about arriving early—it was about owning the moment.

You laughed. "Ahead of the game, huh? You sure you’re not just trying to make your teammates look bad?"

The challenge in his eyes deepened, and he leaned a little closer to the counter, the air between you suddenly feeling charged. "Someone’s got to set the standard," he said mischievously, yet the presence of sinceirty lingered in his words.

You shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Careful, Mr. Marmoush," you teased, your voice light but the words carrying more weight now. "If you keep showing up this early, soon you’ll be the one unlocking the building instead of me."

His lips quirked upward into a half-smirk, and he paused for a moment, letting the playful tension build between you. Then, his voice dropped just slightly, almost a whisper. "You know," he began, his gaze steady, locking with yours, "if you keep calling me that I’m going to start thinking I’m older than I am."

The warmth in your eyes sparked with a glint of mischief. "Well, I wasn’t sure how formal we should be," you said honestly. "You keep showing up so early, I wasn’t sure if you were going for the 'boss' vibe."

A rich chuckle escaped his lips, deep and amused, as if the idea of it pleased him more than it should. "A boss vibe, huh?" he repeated, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter as if the idea were something to be considered. "I don’t need a title to make an impression.” 

You chuckled as you shook your head in response.

"But, fine. If you want to keep calling me ‘Mr. Marmoush,’ I guess I can’t stop you." Then, his gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. "But I’m not going to stop asking you to drop the formalities," he added, a subtle challenge hidden beneath the smoothness of his words. "Plus, you can’t keep calling me that forever, eventually you will have to refer to me as 'Omar'."

Your heart skipped a beat, the air between you both charged with something more than just playful banter. "We’ll see, Mr. Marmoush," your tone playful.

-

The morning air outside had a crisp bite, carrying the first whispers of autumn through the open window. Soft beams filtered through the tall windows, stretching lazily across the floor and illuminating the dust particles that seemed to float like tiny stars suspended in time. It was a moment frozen in peace, a stillness that only the early mornings seemed to hold.

You were wrapped in the hum of the building, the rhythmic ticking of the clock like a heartbeat in the silence. The steady click of the pen in your hand created a symphony of concentration until the door opened. A gust of cool air slipped in, catching the edges of the papers on your desk. The familiar scent of his cologne—earthy with a hint of citrus, like rain on stone—suddenly filled the room, grounding you in the moment.

Omar stood in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the glow of dawn. He wore a hoodie, the dark fabric a stark contrast against the warmth of the room. His eyes found yours almost instantly, and in that gaze, there was a quiet intensity, something that made the room feel smaller, more intimate.

"Early as usual, Mr. Marmoush," you said, your voice light but warm, a playful edge to your words. You couldn’t help but notice the way the corners of his mouth tugged upward in that half-smile that always made your heart race just a little faster.

"Of course, Good morning." Omar replied, his voice raspy due to the timing of the hour. 

You couldn’t help but watch as he moved, the way his fingers slid into the pockets of his hoodie, his thumb tapping absently against the fabric. His eyes never left yours, and it made your pulse quicken, a little unexpected warmth formed in your stomach. For a split second, everything around you faded—the ticking clock, the soft creak of the building settling, the hums of your laptop—and all that remained was him.

Omar leaned casually against the counter in front of you, his arms folded across his chest. His gaze lingered, sharp and steady, and yet there was a playful glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You tore your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the day’s schedule. Your fingers moved across the papers, steady and deliberate, though you were aware of every movement in the room. His presence filled the space like a slow-burning fire.

"Alright," you began, your speech was monotone despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Guardiola wants the players to check their recovery schedules before heading to the locker room. He has something special planned for later in training, but health comes first."

Omar nodded, his gaze flicking briefly to the clipboard on the counter, the edges of the paper catching the light in a way that made the whole moment feel sharper, more defined. He seemed to be listening intently, but there was a glimmer in his eyes—something knowing, something that made you feel like he saw right through you.

"Got it," he said finally, his voice low. But then, as if he couldn’t resist, his lips curved into that maddening smirk. "Thanks, Qamari."

You froze, the word hanging in the air between you like a spark. Your fingers stilled mid-motion, and suddenly, it felt as though the room had grown smaller, quieter, like time itself was holding its breath.

"Qamari?" you echoed, your voice soft, hesitant. The way it sounded on your tongue felt foreign but… intimate, like something you shouldn’t want but did anyway.

He leaned a little closer, his grin never wavering. "It’s the nickname I decided to give you," he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "It fits, doesn’t it?"

You felt the heat creeping up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. "Oh really?" you asked, raising a skeptical brow. 

Omar’s expression softened, his teasing smile giving way to something quieter, something almost tender. "Yeah," he said simply. "It means ‘moon’ in Arabic. It’s common in Egypt, you know. A compliment for women with beauty so striking."

His words settled in the air between you like a gentle breeze, and you could feel them taking root in your chest, in your thoughts. The phrase lingered, and you found yourself feeling an odd sense of peace in it, as though the nickname fit in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why don’t we just stick to the name on my badge?" you managed, trying to inject some playfulness into your tone to cover up the fact that your heart was practically racing out of your chest.

"Hmm." He rubbed his chin theatrically, his expression exaggerated as though he were deep in thought. "Nope. I’ll call you what I want since you refuse to call me Omar."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "But—"

"Nah," he interrupted smoothly, shaking his head with a teasing lilt in his voice. "Fair’s fair, right? You stick with 'Mr. Marmoush,' so I get to choose a name for you."

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing in mock defiance, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to suppress. "That’s not how this works," you said, a faint chuckle betraying your stern expression.

He shrugged, the movement easy and unbothered. "I think it is," he said, his grin softening just enough to make it even more maddening, like he knew exactly how to press all the right buttons without ever trying.

Then, with a casualness that was almost infuriating, he reached for the schedule you’d so neatly laid out, his fingers brushing the paper followed by his shoes scuffing against the floor. 

"See you later, Qamari," he said, his voice orotund, the nickname sliding off his tongue with maddening ease. He started toward the lockers, his brows furrowed as he glanced down at his schedule.

"You can’t keep calling me that forever!" You called after him, your voice rising above the hum of the building, echoing down the corridor as if it were chasing him.

He paused for a brief moment, just enough to glance back over his shoulder. The grin he wore widened into something brighter, effortlessly charming and completely infuriating all at once. Then came the laugh—rich and full of mischief, the kind that made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

Damn him.

You stared after him, your cheeks still flushed and your pulse betraying you. You already knew you’d lost this round. And worse—you weren’t entirely sure if you minded.

© gul4bjamoons 

[insidekatmind]

The temptation of November- Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

It was a cool November evening, with golden leaves creating a creaking carpet under your feet as you headed to the stadium. You wore your favorite coat, the one that Levi loved to see you wear, and a scarf with his team colors. The stands were already animated by a sea of fans, and you were there, among them, ready to cheer for your boy, Levi Colwill.

Levi had been strange lately, quieter than usual, and you noticed the reason: the challenge of the No Nut November. Every year, he and his friends, Noni Madueke and Cole Palmer, challenged each other to this absurd test. But this year, being the first time you were together, it was clear that the situation was putting Levi to a great strain. The frustration was tangible in the way he looked at you, in his deep sighs and in the look that lingered too long on you when he thought I wasn’t watching him.

Sitting in the stands, you checked your watch. The game was only a few minutes away, but Levi had not yet come out. Your phone vibrated, and a message lit up the screen.

Levi:

Come to the locker room. I need to see you, now.

The shiver ran down your spine. You looked around, making sure no one was watching, then you stood up and walked to the private entrance. You knew the street well: Levi often took you backstage, away from the chaos of the public.

---

The changing rooms were quiet, interrupted only by the sound of water gushing from a distant shower. Bussasti quietly to the door with the number of Levi.

"Come in," his voice answered, deeper than usual.

You opened the door and found him sitting on a bench, with his phone in your hands. He was already wearing the team jersey, but his hair was still wet, a sign that he had just prepared. As soon as your eyes met, he dropped the phone next to himself and waved you to come closer.

"What’s going on?" you asked, closing the door behind you. "Shouldn’t you be in the field?"

Levi sighed, putting his hand on his face. "I can’t take it anymore," he muttered, looking at you with a look that looked like he was digging into you. " This challenge... is torture. And you’re not helping."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be innocent. "I? I’m not doing anything."

"That’s right," he said, standing up and coming to you. "You do nothing, but that is the problem. You’re there, perfect, always so damn beautiful, and I’m... I’m going crazy."

The tone of his voice was low, tense, and the heat that emanated seemed to envelop you. You tried to keep calm, but the way he looked at you made it harder.

"Levi," you started, trying to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere. "It’s just a challenge. It’s not mandatory."

He shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "It’s not just a challenge, it’s a contest of pride. Noni and Cole are always teasing me, telling me I’ll quit first. But then there’s you... and every time I see you, I just think about how much I want to give up."

You couldn’t hold a smile. "So it’s my fault that you’re so frustrated?"

"Absolutely," he answered without hesitation. Then, with a sudden gesture, he took you by the hips, drawing you to himself. "And you know that very well, don’t you? You do it on purpose."

Your heart started beating faster. " I don’t do anything," you protested weakly, but Levi’s proximity made it difficult to keep a clear head.

He bowed his head, approaching your ear. "Don’t play dumb," he whispered.

"You know exactly what you do to me every time you smile, every time you put your hand in my hair. You look at me from the stands, and all I can think is how much I would like to have you for myself, without having to hold back."

Levi barely walked away, looking you in the eye, waiting for your reaction. His breath was heavy, and you knew the situation was getting out of hand.

"Listen," you started, trying to calm things down. "I don’t want to be the reason you’re losing this challenge. But if you really want to continue, maybe you should stop texting me during games."

He laughed, a low, hoarse sound that made you shiver. "I can’t help it. You’re my favorite distraction."

You watched him, torn between the desire to provoke him and the desire to console him. Then, with a mischievous smile, you move one step, leaving him with a void in your hands.

"If you want to win, Colwill," I said in a strong tone, "you better focus on the game. I’ll be in the stands cheering for you. Maybe."

You turned to get out, but before I could, Levi grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back. " Don’t go," he said, his voice charged with emotion. "Stay here, just for a minute. I need you."

Levi didn’t let you go. With a strong gesture, he drew you to himself, holding you for life with a force that you had never felt so clearly before. His eyes, dark and burning, were fixed in yours as he lifted you slightly and dropped on the bench, taking you riding on his legs.

"I can’t do it anymore," he muttered, the warm breath that touched your skin as him hands settled firmly on your hips. " Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?"

You couldn’t answer. The tension between you in the last few days seemed to explode suddenly, and your heart was beating so fast that you thought it could feel. Levi did not waste time, his lips rushed on you with an overwhelming passion, as if he had always waited for that moment.

The kiss was intense, desperate, a mixture of desire and frustration that he poured out on you without reservation. His hands caressed your hips, then slowly slid down your back, as his body seemed to wrap itself around you. You let go, responding to her kiss with the same passion, your fingers entwined in her still wet hair.

"Levi," you whispered as your lips finally came off for a moment. His eyes, full of ardor, made you lose all rational thought. "The game... you must go."

"I don’t give a damn about the game," he answered, his voice low and hoarse. "Right now, there’s only one thing I want. And that is you."

You felt the heat grow in your body as his lips moved from your face to your neck, leaving a kiss trail along sensitive skin. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment. His hand slipped under the edge of your sweater, drawing light lines along your skin, and a shiver ran through you from head to toe.

"Are you sure?" you asked, trying to keep a minimum of control, even if your voice betrayed the desire you felt.

Levi paused for a moment, looking you in the eye with a smile that was a mixture of sweetness and determination. " I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life."

"Come on, Colwill! It’s time to get out there!" shouted a familiar voice, probably Noni.

Levi puffed, his face a mask of frustration, but a funny smile flashed on his lips. "Saved by the bell, eh?" He said, looking at you with a mixture of regret and desire.

"Saved you," you replied with a mischievous smile, giving him a slight tap on the chest before getting up. "Now go play. I’ll wait for you in the stands."

He stood up, setting his shirt and patting his hair. " This is not over," he said, approaching again to give you a last kiss, sweet but still full of that unresolved passion. " Wait for me after the game."

With your heart still in turmoil, you left the dressing room and returned to your seat on the bleachers. But you knew that the evening, however intense it had already been, was far from over.

---

The game was over, and Chelsea had won with a clear dominance. In the stands, you had shouted and applauded, but your mind was still anchored to that moment in the dressing room. You were looking forward to being alone with Levi again, and the look on his face when he left the camp only confirmed that the feeling was mutual.

As you drove home, the air was tense. Levi drove in silence, but his hand was resting on your thigh, fingers drumming at a slow, almost calculated rhythm. You felt every touch like a lightning through your body, and the look that he sometimes threw on you only fuelled the expectation.

You tried to distract yourself by looking out of the window, but your eyes inevitably turned on him. The jaw is clamped, the hands firmly on the steering wheel, but above all the tension evident in his body. The fabric of his trousers betrayed his condition: the erection was clearly visible, and Levi seemed to make an immense effort to maintain control.

"Levi..." you started, your voice low and a little uncertain.

He did not look away from the street, but a small smile appeared on his lips. " Say nothing," he muttered, his hand lightly clenching on your thigh. "If you start talking, I don’t guarantee to get home."

The tone of his voice was deep, and sent a shiver down your back. You decided not to provoke him further, but your hand rested on his, gently touching it. You felt the grip become more firm and a slight sigh escape him.

"You’re playing with fire," he said after a moment, finally turning to you when you stopped at a red light. His eyes were dark, full of restrained desire, and the way he looked at you made everything else seem irrelevant.

You did not answer, but the mischievous smile you threw at him was enough to shake his head, a mixture of frustration and adoration on his face. When the traffic light turned green, I started driving again, but the tension in the small space of the car was almost palpable.

When you finally arrived home, Levi pulled over and turned off the engine with a brusque gesture. Before i could say anything, he got out of the car and opened your door, holding your hand.

"Come," he said, his voice a little hoarse, but the tone firm.

As soon as you entered, Levi closed the door behind you and turned to you, his gaze like it was digging into you. " Do you know how hard it was to sit there with you next to me and do nothing?" he asked, approaching you with slow but determined steps.

You backed slightly, until you felt the cold wall against your back. " I guess..." you replied with a smile that you couldn’t hold back.

"Oh, imagine that?" he replied, stopping a few inches from you, his body almost pressing against yours. His hands were resting on your hips, and the heat that emanated seemed to completely envelop you.

"Levi, the challenge..." you murmured, even though your words lacked conviction.

"The challenge is already over," he said with a mischievous smile. "At least for me. I can’t hold back any longer."

Levi did not wait any longer. With a firm hand on your life, he pulled you towards himself, eliminating the space between you, and his lips captured yours with a force that left you breathless. The kiss was intense, desperate, as if it were pouring out all the tension and frustration accumulated in the last few weeks at that moment.

His lips moved with unstoppable passion, and the warmth of his body almost seemed to burn through your clothes. His hands were not firm: one slid down your back, holding you against him, while the other lay on the side of your face, the thumb caressing your cheek with a sweetness contrasting to the strength of the kiss.

You could feel every emotion he was holding back. Every movement of his lips, every pressure of his fingers conveyed the frustration and desire he had repressed during those weeks of challenge. You were overwhelmed, your thoughts elusive while you answered with the same intensity, your hands anchored to his back as if you feared falling.

"You have no idea how much I missed you so much," he muttered against your lips, his broken voice, his heavy breath. He looked into your eyes for a moment, and his gaze burned with a mixture of desire and relief, as if he had finally found something essential.

"Levi..." whispers, not knowing what to say. Every word seemed superfluous compared to what you were both communicating through your bodies.

"Don’t talk to me about challenges," he added, the tone low and decided. "I can’t resist anymore, not after all this time. You... are too much for me."

His lips went back to look for yours, but this time the kiss was different. Less aggressive, but no less intense. It was as if he wanted to take the time to taste you, to remember every detail of you. His hands explored you with a delicacy that contrasted with the uncontrollable energy he had shown a moment before.

You felt its tension in the contracted muscles, the way it slightly tightened your hips, and especially the irregular breath that touched your skin every time it was just taken off to catch its breath. It was a deep, almost visceral need, and you were his only thought.

"If only you knew how much I wanted you," she continued, the barely audible voice as she bent down to kiss your neck. His light beard touched your skin, causing shivers down your back. " Every time I saw you, every time you smiled... it was torture."

His kisses on your neck became slower but not less intense, and each contact seemed a reminder of the frustration that had accumulated. You felt his heart beat against your chest, and the way his hands held you made you realize he would not let go easily.

You started to lower his pants and his underwear and then kneel in front of him and moaned seeing how hard his big cock was.

You put your hand around his cock and started sawing it. He groans with pleasure and finally feels a little relief on his cock after so long. You looked at it and started to take it in your mouth, trying to take it all and suffocating yourself too but you didn’t care, at this moment you just wanted to satisfy Levi.

Your hand moved it on your balls and you started to stroke them while you kept sucking his cock. Levi moaned and put his hand on your head to help push his hips further towards you and moaned. "fuck baby, this mouth is made for me" he said pulling his head back and closing his eyes enjoying your mouth on his cock.

Levi started to fuck your mouth and you were moaning hearing his groans and you were getting even more excited. You raised your eyes to look at him and were moaning at the sight of Levi enjoying the moment.

You rolled your tongue on his cock and sucked it faster playing with his balls and he groaned coming into your mouth. Levi sighed and then you get up immediately and quickly take off all your clothes and you took his shirt revealing his beautiful physique.

Levi laid you on the couch opening your legs and licking your pussy. You moaned at the sudden touch as he continued his assault on your pussy that he had wanted to lick for all the time he was doing this challenge.

You moaned as he was sucking you and licking your pussy like a hungry man. "I missed this pussy, always a nice taste for me," said Levi moaning near your pussy sending vibrations to your pussy making you moan loudly.

"Baby please" you whispered as you pushed your hips on his face and he licked more intensely making you cum on his face.

"So good for me," said Levi before moving his lips to yours and kissing you.

Levi turned you, putting you on your stomach and lifting your ass, then penetrated you with a strong blow making both of them moan.

He placed his hands on your hips and closed his eyes for a moment to get you used to his huge size while he was going crazy feeling how your pussy was holding him.

"shit, you’re squeezing my dick" he said moaning as he started to move. First slowly and sensually to get you used even more but then feeling that you were getting more and more eager began to fuck you like a fucking animal. Putting one hand on your neck and holding it while the other hand held it on your hair to make your back arch more.

Both of you were moaning loudly while Levi fucked you. "It’s so beautiful" you said whining as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into you.

"I missed this tight little pussy," he said, giving you more hard blows. Then he took your hand off your neck and slapped your left ass two times, making you moan louder and bow more against him. "Not to mention this beautiful ass" he continued.

You in return could only moan while he kept fucking you more and I start leaving many clamps and marks on your neck while whispering dirty words to your mouth. "You can’t imagine how many times I’ve fucked you during this fucking challenge".

Levi start pushing you more inside and you came cumming on his dick. He took off his cock and turned you around and put his dick back in your pussy to fuck you with the missionary.

You kissed with love, lust, desire and hunger. When you have detached from the kiss he besides fucking sucks your nipples and played with your butt making you moan more and more.

You could have sworn that tomorrow for sure you won’t have the voice anymore because of how you were screaming and especially you couldn’t walk because of how you were fucking.

You watched as Levi started to fuck you harder and he put his hand on your neck while you moaned seeing how sexy it was above you.

"You’re so beautiful" you whispered through the groans and he smiled sweetly then kissed you sweetly but keeping the same brutal rhythm while fucking you.

"You take it so well" he mumbled through the kisses and you groaned.

You came on his dick again and he after three more brutal blows came inside you.

You both moaned and Levi lowered his head to the incline of your body as he gave you sweet kisses on the neck and you caressed his hair, enjoying this moment of silence.

He looked up and smiled softly at you, then kissed you softly again. "I love you y/n, you are my life" he whispered, detaching himself from your lips but without moving away. You smiled softly to kiss him again and whisper "me too" through your kisses.

You kept kissing each other and then you chuckled as you felt his cock harden inside of you again and you knew perfectly well that a long evening was waiting for you but you didn’t mind at all.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: guyssss!!!! ur support means the world, the sun, the moon, the solar system to me like everything!!! some of the comments u leave got me feeling like Y/N fr, big mwahs for u all! I made this part a little longer as an apology for making you wait for so long!

Warnings: more fluff, Trent slowly starting to open up methinks, angst, pressure, high-stress environment, very slow burn

Word Count: 3.1k words (11 mins reading avg)

…

You were seated at your desk, carefully closing the backs of the picture frame. You smiled as you secured the last clip, the image now safely enclosed behind the glass. It was a small comfort, one you could look at during the demanding days.

Before you had the chance to prop it up on your new cabinet, Lee entered with a folder in hand. You left your frame face-down as you stood up, and rounded your desk to greet him.

"Saw your email. Everything okay?"

Lee gave you a quick, apologetic smile as he handed you the folder. "Yeah. Won't be able to make the Man United game this weekend."

He handed you a folder emblazoned with the Man United logo, stuffed with the players' reports.

You raised an eyebrow, more concerned than curious. "That's unlike you. What's come up?"

He leaned against the edge of your desk, folding his arms. "Got to attend a family thing, non-negotiable. But that's not the only reason I'm here."

His tone shifted, more serious now. "I need you to step in and travel with the squad as the on-hand psychologist."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me? But... I mean, I usually handle things from here. Are you sure?"

Lee nodded, his expression firm. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. You've been great with some of the boys so far, and they trust you. This game is going to be intense, and they'll need your support. Plus, it's good for them to have some consistency, especially with me out."

It all made sense, but the reality of it hit hard. You’d only been here for two months, barely building trust through a handful of sessions a week. Now, being thrown into the deep end at Old Trafford for an away game just felt like career suicide.

You bit your lip, the weight of the responsibility starting to settle in. The thought of traveling with the team, being there in the thick of it, was both exciting and daunting.

"I don't know, Lee. What if-" Your voice wavered, playing with the corners of the folder in your hand.

"You'll be fine," he interrupted, his tone reassuring. "You're more than capable. And look, I'll only be a phone call away if you need anything."

You hesitated for a moment, the nerves swirling in your stomach. But deep down, you knew this was a chance you couldn't pass up. Lee believed in you and it was inevitable at one point.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "Sure."

Lee's face broke into a wide grin. "Good. I'll let the gaffer know and I'll make sure everything's arranged for you."

You nodded, watching as he left. The thrill of the weekend was tempered by the gnawing anxiety that you weren't ready, that you were diving headfirst into something you couldn't fully control. Sure, some of the boys had warmed up to you but others were still keeping you at arm's length.

You scoffed to yourself, more like just the one. You were walking a fine line with him and the last thing you wanted was to make things worse. In the heat of the moment, a sentence, an expression, a word could tick someone off.

You couldn't continue your train of thoughts, the folder staring up at you, waiting to be opened. With a steadying breath, you took a seat at your desk again and finally opened it, beginning to read through the reports.

...

The squad and staff gathered at the training ground, the usual pre-match energy heightened by the knowledge that today’s destination was Old Trafford.

You stood off to the side, watching the players mill around as they waited for the coaches to arrive, the hum of conversation and laughter blending with the distant noise of fans outside the gates.

You were trying to keep your own nerves in check, running through mental notes on the players, when Curtis sauntered over, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Bit of a madhouse out there." He said, nodding toward the entrance where the sound of chanting fans was growing louder.

“Just a bit,” you replied with a smile, honestly grateful for the distraction.

He chuckled, giving you a once-over. “You look a little tense. First time heading into enemy territory got you rattled?”

You gave him a mock glare, though the truth behind his teasing made you sigh. “Maybe a little. It’s just.. a lot. Big game, and I’m still getting used to being around everyone, let alone on a match day.”

Curtis leaned against the wall beside you, his expression softening. “I get it. But you’ve been solid with us. We’re glad you’re here, even if some of us” - he raised an eyebrow - “aren’t great at showing it.”

You smirked, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

“Trent?”

He grinned. “Nah, Wataru." You nudged his shoulder with your hand, and Curtis pushed himself off of the wall. His attention was directed back to the team as Arne brought everyone together.

"You're gonna smash it, see you in Manny." He flashed you a smile before jogging back over.

You adjusted your backpack currently slung over your shoulder, glancing up but accidentally catching Trent's eye across the large entryway.

He was standing a little apart from the others, his posture relaxed but with an air of deliberate composure. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, and his usual stoic expression was softened by a hint of curiosity.

His gaze lingered on you longer than usual, more intent and thoughtful.

You offered him a shy smile, unsure of what to expect in return. Almost immediately, his eyes darted away, his expression tightening as he turned his attention back to the team.

A tinge of disappointment settled in your chest, but you didn’t have time to linger on it as the coach pulled into the parking space out front.

“You’ve got this. You’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself, as if it were a mantra, following the backroom staff out of the training ground.

…

The first half had been tightly contested, with neither team managing to score, leaving the game deadlocked at 0-0.

The only real highlight was Trent’s free kick from just outside the box - a powerful shot that flew high, curling away from the goal before soaring over the bar. The away fans held their breath in anticipation, only to exhale in disappointment as the ball missed its mark.

From the sidelines, you watched as Trent’s frustration grew more evident, his usual composure giving way to visible agitation.

Each missed opportunity seemed to fuel his irritation, and it was clear his emotions were beginning to take over.

You sighed as the referee jogged over after a hard tackle. The yellow card was raised high, and Trent’s reaction was a sharp scoff as he walked away, shooting a disdainful side-eye at the player he had just fouled.

The rival fans seized the moment, erupting in cheers and taunts that grew louder and more fervent.

Old Trafford lit up as the referees became hyper-aware of Trent, ready to penalise any further outbursts. Arne’s nervousness was palpable, and the backroom staff were on their feet, counting down to the halfway mark.

Trent was no longer just reacting to the game; he was actively seeking confrontations with the Man United players. His tackles were sharper, his verbal exchanges more heated.

The tension was building to a breaking point, but the halftime whistle blew just in time, bringing a collective sigh of relief from every member of Liverpool’s staff, whether at the training ground or in the stadium.

As you left your seat to head down the tunnel, Trent’s shoulder brushed against yours, his head lowered and skin glistening with sweat.

You noticed Arne watching him closely, his face a mask of concentration and concern, fully aware of how vital Trent was to the team’s strategy - and how disastrous a second yellow card could be.

...

As the halftime break drew to a near close, the tension in the dressing room was palpable. The players sat on the benches, catching their breath and nursing the aches of the first half.

Arne stood at the front, his arms crossed as he delivered his instructions, his tone firm but calm. You could see the focus in their eyes, the determination to turn the game around in the second half.

Just as he'd finished his tactical breakdown, he turned to you, walking over.

"I want you to say a few words," he said, his voice low.

"About?" You asked quietly, unaware of the boys' wandering eyes glancing between the two of you.

"Keeping their heads in the game. Any insights that might help them stay focused and.. you know, ease off the aggression."

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

The players' attention turned to you as you moved to the centre of the room, a mix of curiosity and expectation in their gazes. It was almost comical - this was the first time many of them were hearing you speak in a professional setting.

You cleared your throat, giving a quick glance to the clock hung on the wall.

You took a deep breath and began. “I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. We need to ease off on the aggressiveness." Trent, who had been staring at the floor, lifted his head slightly, his eyes now locked on you.

"We’re here to play our best football, to get the result we want and then move on. Allowing anger is only gonna distract you and hurt our performance. When you feel it bubbling up, just walk away and refocus yourself." You made an effort to connect with each player as you spoke, though deep down, you hoped your words would resonate with one in particular.

"Focus on what you can control - your passing, your tackles, your game.” A smirk tugged at Trent's lips before his head dipped again.

You scanned the room, noticing nods of understanding. “If you see a teammate getting heated, help them out."

Another breath, "push them away from the fight, back off, and concentrate on our tactics, not on the referee’s decisions or the United players. Don’t sulk on what went wrong. Learn from it and move on, yeah?"

Arne gave you a nod of appreciation as you wrapped up your little speech. "Alright, let’s make this second half count," you finished, your voice carrying a tinge of determination.

Virgil clapped twice, rallying the team as they stood and prepared to exit the dressing room. “Let’s go!” As they began filing out, you moved to the side to let them pass.

Trent was among the last to leave.

"Write me up next time," he muttered as he walked by, leaning in just enough for you to hear.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his lips before darting back up to meet his gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly composed yourself and responded.

"It was meant for everyone." You lied through your teeth.

He hummed in response, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure," he said, not even glancing back as he walked out, leaving you with the undeniable sense that he knew exactly who your speech had been aimed at.

...

In the second half, Trent seemed lighter on his feet, more focused on the tactical aspects of the game and less caught up in the aggression that had marked his earlier play.

Liverpool had eventually secured a hard-fought 0-1 victory, with Salah scoring the winner from a beautifully timed assist by Trent. The away crowds erupted as the ball hit the back of the net, and the energy from that moment carried through until the final whistle.

As you watched him on the pitch, his frustration giving way to calm determination, you couldn’t help but wonder if your halftime words had played a part in that change.

Even a small part, that was more than enough to make you feel like you were on the right track.

The journey back to the training ground was a short one, the adrenaline from the win still buzzing among the team.

But by the time you arrived, the place had already started to empty out, with most of the team and staff having headed home to celebrate or rest.

The win had been sweet, but the quietness that greeted you at the training ground felt like a peaceful end to a very intense day.

You hadn’t intended to stay at the training ground as late as you did after returning, but with Kaia staying over at a friend’s house and the stack of unwritten reports waiting for your attention, you found yourself at your desk again.

The evening had unfolded into an unexpected work spell as you prepared for the upcoming sessions and tackled the never-ending paperwork.

The soft glow from your new office lamp created a cozy pool of light, the only sounds in the quiet room being the occasional rustle of papers and the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

Starting to nurse a headache, you rubbed your eyes carefully as to not smudge your makeup.

The words of practising what you preached echoed in your mind, working for hours on end without a break was hardly the advice you’d give to anybody.

So, you eventually pushed away from your desk and decided to step outside your office for a walk.

The halls were quiet and mostly vacant as you strolled, letting your mind drift and find a moment of peace.

You made your way to the large glass windows that stretched across both the first and second floors, providing a panoramic view of the training grounds below.

The evening sky was transitioning into deep blues, with the last hints of daylight fading.

Yet your gaze was drawn to a solitary figure on the pitch, illuminated by the few remaining lights.

It was him.

Even from this distance, his form was unmistakable as he set up a line of balls and readied himself for another round of free kicks. Instantly, you were reminded of earlier - his powerful shot that had soared over the bar.

Seeing him out there, still working hard, your shoulders slumped in realisation.

The scene was almost surreal, marked by the quiet dedication of a player refusing to call it a day.

You stood there in complete silence, taking in the sight as if it were a scene from a film - each deliberate movement and focused effort holding your rapt attention.

It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. Alone and immersed in his own world, completely absorbed in his craft without a care for the outside distractions.

Deciding to join him, you headed out of the building and towards the pitch. The evening air was crisp, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

You crossed your arms over your chest, maintaining a respectful distance as you approached. You hoped your presence would neither startle him nor prompt him to leave.

"Mind if I watch?" You asked, keeping your tone light and casual.

Trent glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to the pitch. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but no trace of annoyance.

"Suit yourself, psychologist," he replied, his voice steady. You nodded - guess that was good enough for you.

You watched as he rolled the first ball to his feet, his focus razor-sharp as he stopped it and took a few steps back.

The ball sailed through the air, curving beautifully into the top corner of the net. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

"That was perfect," you said, genuinely admiring his skill.

Trent shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just another shot."

"Give yourself more credit than that. It’s not easy," you countered. "I admire the dedication."

He glanced back at you. “Guess you’d know.”

“Sorry?” You asked, slightly confused.

Another shot.

“The picture in your office. You played once,” he remarked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

You found yourself wondering when he had been in your office to notice the picture, then it clicked. He'd helped you assemble the cabinet where you later placed it.

He must've spotted it in one of the boxes.

You watched as he set up another ball, and somehow, in a way that only Trent could manage, that shot was even better than the last.

You scoffed lightly, dismissing the comparison. “Nowhere near your level, obviously. But you’re right, I guess I can imagine the passion. The pressure.”

You hoped your words were reaching him, echoing the sentiments he'd talked about in so many of his interviews.

He breathed out slowly. "So why psychology?" He asked, bending over to position the next ball.

"Because mental strength is just as important as physical ability," you explained. "I've seen talented players crumble under pressure, and others rise above it. The difference often comes down to how well they manage their minds."

Trent didn’t respond immediately. He set up another shot, this time, it hit the post with a loud thud.

Frustrated, he sighed.

You picked up the ball as it bounced near you, letting it roll between your hands before walking over to him. Once there, you dropped it to the ground, letting it settle by the side of your foot.

When he looked at you, his gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, the kind that made your stomach dip slightly. Your fingers curled into your palms, a subconscious effort to ground yourself as the moment stretched on.

“I know I’m just a stranger,” you began gently, your tone careful and steady.

“But I’m not here to push you and you don’t have to share anything with me. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like talking, we can - no titles, just two people who might understand each other.”

You added with a slight smile. “You’ll never know unless you give it a shot.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider something. You would’ve traded anything in to know what was going through his mind at that moment.

But he shook his head, glancing out over the pitch. “I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” you replied, giving the ball a gentle nudge, just enough to pass it to him. With a nod, you stepped back and turned towards the building, heading inside.

Before entering, you turned around, surprised to find him already watching you. “Thanks for hearing me out, yeah?”

You offered him a final smile before disappearing inside.

Trent’s gaze lingered on your retreating figure for a moment longer before he returned to his practice, a slight shift in his expression as he continued his routine.

...

Part 6

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy

[gadriezmannsgirl]

https://www.tumblr.com/gadriezmannsgirl/736999672550457344/please-tell-me-im-not-the-only-one-watching-over

Don't you think this deserves a Ferran's fic of him teasing his girl?

Kitchen Disaster -F.T7

Summary: Your boyfriend has found a new hobby, teasing you non-stop

°°° °°° °°° °°°

"Que va a explotar" (It's going to explode)

"Nada va a explotar" (Nothing is going to explode)

"Tendré que buscar nueva casa" (I'll have to look for a new home)

"Ferran!" You say putting the timer to the oven "Stop saying those things and stop trying to sabotage our dinner!" He laughs and winks at you

"I'll wait for you, preciosa" He said before leaving the kitchen towards the living room. You giggled before grabbing two glasses of lemon juice and bring them over. You laying on top of Ferran as you both watched Encanto

Both of you singing to the songs in the movie and being surprised by every single little fact as if you haven't seen it ever when Ferran stopped signing "What Else Can I Do?"

"Amor" You hum looking at him "Is the time over?" You look at your watch and shake your head

"No why?"

"Smells like burning" He said

"There are fifteen minutes left but still let me go and check" And with that you two stood up to watch the food and when you opened the oven both of you let out curses

"Puta madre"

"Joder!" You quickly get the pan out

"I thought you knew how to cook!"

"Shut up, you know I do!" You complain slightly when you see that the dough you did for your dinner had overflowed from the pan and that the oven was now full of dough.

"Pero..." (But)

"There's no but, I don't know what happened. I have added the same amount as usual!" You cry out watching the dirty oven and thinking of the hard work you had to do to clean it up

"I told you we were fine with just a pizza, preciosa"

"Bueno amor, you were in the mood for a meat filling and I wanted to do it for you" He grabs your hand to pull you into him

"Well, next time, listen to me when I tell you to order food, in that waiting time I can do little things."

"Mira tu" (Look at you) You hit him with the kitchen towel while he was laughing at you.

"The good thing about this is that I'll see you in a maid's outfit while you clean everything. Maybe something else will come out of it" He wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you laughed.

"In your life you will"

"Señorita, señorita, traiga la crema por favor, es hora de mi masaje" (Miss, miss; bring the cream please, it's time for my massage)

"Idiot, shut up" He laughed while you sighed knowing that your destiny was already written, maybe not with the maid outfit as your boyfriend of 1 year and a half wanted, but you did have to clean the whole oven again.

"Am I still cooking?" You asked looking at the dough that was left in the pan.

"Definitely not, I'm placing the order"

"Fer" You call him out as he looks at you. "Do you think…?"

"I'm not going to clean that up, honey"

"Come on Fer, I need you to help me remove the grease"

"You need me but not necessarily to clean up" He smirks

"Are you horny? I'm serious!"

"Look I think you should stop this" He made gestures for the dough. "Let me order the pizza and don't try this anymore… Or at least not without supervision"

"But I do know how to cook!"

"That's what Gusteau says, right?"

"Ferran!"

"Come on, I think you've put something on the side or you've overdone it with something… Yeast, maybe?"

"Amor," you complain. "I really don't know what happened, I've done it as usual, it's just that I wanted to make a very nice gesture to you. You always please me and-" He cut you off.

"And nothing. That you please me too, very much, more than I need. I know you wanted to make me a meal that I wanted and I thank you, it's the thought that counts. I appreciate it very much. But it's not necessary, maybe today is not the day to eat a meat filling, it doesn't matter. Don't be sad there will be plenty of time to be able to make that roll up that I know will be delicious for you."

"You're not mad?" he shook his head smiling as he kissed your forehead.

"Of course not, love. Accidents happen and it's just a little dough that can be removed with soap and degreaser" He placed a hand on your chin to make you look at him and gave you a soft kiss on the lips "Next time, I'll call my mom so you can do it together."

"No es muy divertido" (That's not very funny)

"Well, it's just that anyone can't cook, some people are terrible at it, Gusteau must change that, don't you see Pedri? fua, he almost burned his kitchen. Anyway, we don't want that to happen here. I'll be right back, you want it familiar with bacon and anchovies, right?" He winked at you

"I hate you sometimes, Torres" You sighed with a smile at his teasing "And yes, double cheese too"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[lewisvinga]

sneaky link | jude bellingham x sainz! reader

summary; y/n knew it wasn’t the best idea to sneak jude in while her family was out at dinner. but she couldn’t help but risk it despite her overprotective brother

warnings; cursing

word count; 956

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; before you all ask no i’m not okay w the kroos news

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled as she heard multiple cars pull up into her driveway. She quickly gets up from Jude’s lap and looks out her bedroom window. She mentally curses when she sees the cars of her parents, brother, and sister in the driveway.

“What happened?” He asked curiously, lifting his head from her pillow.

She picked up his white t-shirt and zip-up hoodie from her makeup chair and chucked it at him. “My family came back earlier than expected. Hurry! Put your clothes back on!”

A laugh escaped from his lips as he sat up on her bed. He sets his phone down and catches his clothes. “You weren’t complainin’ 5 minutes ago when you were on my lap and-“

“Yes you’re very hot and as much as I appreciate you shirtless,” Y/n huffed, watching her brother shut the door to his Ferrari. “My brother wouldn’t.”

“I swear he’ll like me.”

“Just because you play for Real Madrid doesn’t guarantee that Carlos won’t go all crazy big brother on you.”

“Yeah but-“

“Y/n!” Her mother’s voice called out for her from the bottom of the stairs. “We came early and brought back dessert. Come down to the backyard!”

Y/n and Jude shared the same wide-eyed look. Whenever he visited especially late at night, the backyard patio was where he usually snuck out since there were cameras in the front door. With her whole family outside, it would be more difficult to get him out.

She hears the back door open and close, meaning they’re all outside. “You can get out from the side-“ She turned back to face her boyfriend and noticed he was still shirtless. “Stop distracting me!”

Jude couldn’t hold back his laugh from her panicked face. She glared at him as he wiped the tears from his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to stop laughing. “Okay, okay, fine! I’m sorry.” He said in between laughs, putting on his white shirt.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried though. I’ve met your mom already.”

Y/n sighed and grabbed her ugg slippers. “My mom. You’ve met my mom. Not my brother or dad.” She mumbled in reply. She remembered the time she brought a boy home when she was 15. Boy did her brother scare him away. Ever since then, she swore she wouldn’t bring a guy around Carlos not until she knew he was ready to see his baby sister be an adult.

“He can’t be that bad.”

She gave him a glare and he raised his hands up in defense. She grabbed his hand as she slowly opened her bedroom door. She looks down the lengthy halls before quietly and carefully dragging him towards the staircase.

“Now, keep quiet because I don’t need Carlos seeing you,” Y/n whispers to Jude who nods in response. They made it to the bottom of the staircase and were about to rush towards the side doors when a familiar voice stopped them.

“Don’t need me seeing who?”

The couple froze in their spots, both too scared to turn around. She felt her heart stop for a second when Carlos cleared his throat again. “Y/n.” His voice was stern.

She gulped and slowly turned around. She stood in front of Jude but that did little due to his height. She was met with her brother's stern gaze. His jaw was clenched, clearly unhappy at the sight of his baby sister with a boy.

Carlos knew who Jude was. Being a Madridista since birth meant he knew every player, especially one who helped them win the league. The Ferrari driver was a fan of the English player, at least he was until he saw him standing behind Y/n.

“He was just leaving-“

“Why is he here?”

“Hello, Jude, nice to meet you,” Jude said with a smile. He held his hand out but Y/n immediately slapped it down. “What? I’m trying to be nice!”

She glanced back at her brother and took a step closer to him. “Por favor, Carlos. No hagas de esto un gran problema.” [please, carlos. don’t make this a big problem] She quietly said. “Has hablado bien de él. No cambies tu opinión ahora solo porque el es mi novio [you’ve talked good things about him. don’t change your opinion now just because he’s my boyfriend]

Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were furrowed up, showing how much she wanted her brother to be calm about her relationship. Jude was confused as he stared at the Sainz siblings. He only knew so much Spanish and certainly not to the extent of understanding all of what his girlfriend said.

Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he gently pats her arm. “Vale.” [okay] He says after thinking for a few seconds. “So what, is he your sneaky link?”

His words caused Y/n to gasp as the English player bursted into laughter once again. “Carlos! I just said he’s my boyfriend!” She exclaimed, ignoring the feeling of her face burning up as her boyfriend balanced himself on her and tried to stop laughing.

“Why’re you sneaking him out?”

“Because of you!”

Jude takes a deep breath before standing back up straight. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout sneaking behind your back. It did kinda seem like I was her sneaky link.” He said with a smile, gently poking her cheek.

Carlos gave him a glare which made the Real Madrid’s player smile fall. The Ferrari driver immediately smiled before pulling him into a side hug. “Oye, no more sneaking around with my sister. You’re an amazing player on the pitch and just because you’ve saved us many times doesn’t mean I’ll be easy on you for dating my sister.”

“Got it, no more sneaky link meet-ups.”

“Jude!”

[basketfullofgrapes]

Strategic Allignment

Alex Morgan x Reader imagine

The dining room of my father’s mansion was a monument to old money, a place that could easily have served as the backdrop for some dull historical drama about the aristocracy: glimmering chandeliers that cast shadows over the polished mahogany table, velvet curtains that hung like somber reminders of the walls closing in.

The air was thick with something far worse than just fine wine. It was the scent of suffocating expectations. I knew it, and Alex Morgan, the American soccer prodigy sitting across from me, seemed to know it too. Both of us, trapped in the tangled web my father had woven for us, had adopted the same uncomfortable posture, shoulders stiff, eyes darting away from the elephant in the room—the very one sitting right between us, looking smug at the head of the table: my father.

I could feel the weight of his gaze, trying to drill through me, but I wasn’t going to let him win. I never did. With a flick of my wrist, I broke the silence, my voice smooth but with the bite that had earned me a reputation. "Let me get this straight," I said, leaning forward slightly, letting my sarcasm bleed through every word. "You’re marrying me off to her because… what? You ran out of business partners to exploit?"

My father, unfazed as always, didn’t even blink. His hand rested perfectly on the table, a symbol of control, as though this whole conversation was a mere inconvenience. "It’s not exploitation, sweetheart," he replied, the words falling from his mouth like he had rehearsed them a thousand times. "It’s strategic alignment. The Morgan and Y/L/N families merging through this arrangement will benefit both parties immensely."

The word "alignment" hung in the air, as though I should care about it. My eyes narrowed. "‘Strategic alignment’? Is that what we’re calling human trafficking these days?"

The tension that settled in the room could’ve been cut with a knife. Alex, sitting stiffly in her seat, didn’t make a sound, her face betraying a blend of confusion and forced politeness. But I caught it—the slight cough, the faintest hint of amusement trying to escape her lips as she swallowed her water. At least someone found this entire circus amusing.

"You know, Dad," I continued, tapping my fingers on the table for effect, "you’ve really outdone yourself this time. A soccer star and a business contract all rolled into one. What’s next? Marrying me to the next tech CEO to boost our Wi-Fi signal?"

My father’s eyes flicked to me with a glint of frustration, but he held his ground, ever the image of indifference. "Y/N, this isn’t up for debate. The wedding is in two weeks. You’ll thank me someday."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead meeting his gaze with a blank stare. "Oh, sure. I’ll send a heartfelt thank-you note from the honeymoon—assuming I survive the sheer embarrassment of this circus."

Alex shifted in her chair, finally breaking the silence with a soft laugh, one she quickly tried to stifle. "For the record," she said, her voice calm but carrying an undertone of awkwardness, "I didn’t agree to this either. I was just told it’s happening."

I turned to her, my smirk finding its way back onto my face. The sarcasm practically dripped from my words. "And you’re just going along with it? What, they promise you unlimited cleats and a lifetime supply of protein shakes?"

Her lips twitched, and for a second, I thought I might actually crack her, but she quickly masked it, her poker face coming back with a practiced grace. "No, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with someone so… charming was hard to resist."

I leaned back in my chair, studying her for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Ah, sarcasm. A girl after my own heart," I remarked, tapping my fingers on the table with a thoughtful expression. "I knew there was something about you that wasn’t just… football and bright smiles."

Just as the words left my mouth, my father, finally losing his patience, cut in. "Enough," he said sharply, his voice more commanding than ever. "You two need to make this work. I don’t care how. The media rollout starts tomorrow, and you’ll be acting like a blissfully engaged couple by then."

I couldn’t help it. The sarcastic impulse was too strong. "Blissful?" I repeated, my voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. "Got it. Should we practice our public displays of affection now, or do you have a PowerPoint on it first?"

"Y/N..." His voice dropped to a growl, a tone that was supposed to be threatening but only made me roll my eyes harder.

I stood up from the table, stretching lazily as though I wasn’t bothered by anything. "Relax, Dad. I’ll play nice," I said, tossing my napkin onto my seat. "But I’m going to need a drink, though. Or twenty."

As I turned to leave, I heard Alex’s voice behind me, light but sincere. "For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this. It wasn’t my idea either."

I paused at the doorway, glancing back at her. My smirk returned, sharp and calculating. "Don’t apologize yet, Morgan. You haven’t even seen me in action."

Her eyebrow arched in genuine curiosity. "Should I be scared?"

I gave her a wink, then turned and left the room without another word. "Terrified," I called over my shoulder, my voice carrying the weight of a promise I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for.

I was nursing a glass of wine in the library when the door creaked open. Alex stood there, framed by the dim light from the hallway, as though unsure if she was stepping into enemy territory or a sanctuary. She hesitated, her fingers wrapped around the doorframe, her posture stiff. It made her look almost… human. Vulnerable, even.

I didn’t bother glancing up from my glass, the liquid swirling lazily in the crystal. "Let me guess," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, a perfect match for the situation. "You’re here to discuss our ‘strategic alignment.’"

There was a beat of silence before she chuckled—genuine, unguarded—and stepped further into the room. "Actually," she said, her voice steady but laced with something that could almost be called concern, "I came to ask how you’re holding up. This can’t be easy for you."

I slowly raised my eyes to meet hers, a dry laugh escaping my lips before I could even stop it. "Aw, concerned about me already?" I leaned back in my chair, letting my smirk widen. "You’re making this fake marriage feel so real."

She raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering behind her eyes. "Are you always this sarcastic, or is it just because of this... situation?"

"Who, me?" I lifted my glass in an exaggerated gesture, swirling the wine, letting it settle before speaking again. "This marriage is just the cherry on top of the disaster sundae my life’s been serving me. The sarcasm is practically a reflex at this point."

Alex shook her head, her lips curling into a small smile that she couldn’t quite hide. "You really are impossible, you know that?"

I looked at her, meeting her gaze for the first time since dinner, and for a split second, I saw the flicker of understanding in her eyes. It was strange, the way it almost felt like we were in this together, despite the fact that neither of us had chosen this.

"Yet here you are," I said with a soft chuckle, raising my glass to her, a mock toast. "To impossible people and ridiculous situations."

She didn’t hesitate this time. Her fingers tapped the edge of her glass, though she didn’t have one in her hand. Her eyes locked onto mine as she mirrored my motion, her voice light, yet edged with something darker, almost resigned. "And to the fact that we’ll probably kill each other before the wedding."

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping from deep in my chest. It was a laugh of recognition, like she understood exactly what I meant. Maybe it was just my sarcasm speaking, or maybe it was the truth we both saw hanging between us. I leaned forward, the glass in my hand glinting under the low lights. "That’s the spirit," I said, savoring the words with a devilish smirk.

There was a long pause, and for the first time that night, the silence didn’t feel heavy. It wasn’t the awkward kind that hung over dinner, suffocating the air with every word. No, this felt almost like… mutual acknowledgment. Like we were on the same page, even if we didn’t want to be.

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, her face still half-hidden in the shadows. "You know," she began, her voice low, almost thoughtful, "I didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did."

I took another sip of my wine, letting her words linger in the air. "No, but here we are anyway," I said, my voice flat, like it was something I had resigned myself to long ago.

Alex nodded, her eyes flickering to the fireplace across the room, though her focus was clearly somewhere else. "I hate how your dad thinks he can control everything. I don’t even know why I’m here, honestly. Just doing what I’m told." She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "But I get it. He’s not exactly the type to give you a choice, is he?"

I couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, believe me, if I had a choice, I’d be anywhere else right now. Anywhere but here, pretending to be engaged to you, a woman I’ve barely said five words to."

She looked at me then, her expression softening, just a little. "You’re not the only one stuck in this, you know."

I didn’t know what I expected her to say, but something about the honesty in her voice caught me off guard. I thought I was the only one dealing with the weight of this mess, the only one battling the invisible chains my father had wrapped around me. But here she was, feeling just as trapped, maybe more.

I set my glass down with a soft clink, leaning in slightly. "Yeah, well," I said, my voice quieter now, almost contemplative, "just because we’re stuck in the same situation doesn’t mean we’re going to get along."

Her gaze was steady, unwavering, as she met my eyes. "No, it doesn’t," she replied with a quiet intensity. "But we might as well make the best of it. For whatever it’s worth, I’m not here to make this harder on you, even if I seem like the enemy."

The words hit harder than I anticipated, and I almost found myself speechless. She wasn’t just some stranger being shoved into this. Alex Morgan, soccer icon, was just as much a victim as I was in this ridiculous charade. For the first time that night, I saw her as something more than just a pawn in my father’s game—a woman who didn’t ask for any of this.

I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence stretch between us, allowing the weight of the situation to settle. She wasn’t wrong. We were both caught in this, for better or worse. And maybe, just maybe, there was a way out—or at least a way to make it through the storm.

"I suppose," I said, my voice low but tinged with something closer to resignation than sarcasm, "we’ll have to see how long we can last without driving each other insane."

Alex’s lips twitched in amusement again. "I don’t know about you," she said, her voice lighter now, "but I’m aiming for a solid six months before I snap."

I laughed, the sound escaping more freely this time. Maybe we weren’t as far apart as I thought.

"Six months?" I said with a grin, the sarcasm creeping back into my tone. "I’ll give it a week. You’ll be begging for a divorce before we even get to the aisle."

Her smile widened. "That’s the spirit," she said, matching my playful challenge.

And just like that, despite everything, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter. Maybe this absurd contract my father had drafted wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something else entirely.

[oraltraditionfiction]

"I wanted to keep dating her" | MM7

Mason Mount x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: you and Mason have a disagreement about how to cut sandwiches

Word Count: 358 words

Authors Note: inspired by this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODATQFxkk9Y. I had a lot of fun with this one, please enjoy! -🦷

You were lying on the couch, tucked under a blanket scrolling through social media, when a video of Mason caught your eye. It appeared to be an official Premier League video reposted by a fan account. Clicking on the caption, you smile softly as you read, he is soooo adorable talking about his gf <3333. The video restarts and you pay attention to the question being asked: “How would you cut a sandwich?”

Mason blinks and pauses for a moment, “Well… personally, I don’t mind eating it whole. I’ve never really understand the controversy. My girlfriend has strong opinions though.”

He pauses with a laugh, eyes crinkling, “I remember when we first started dating, I made her a sandwich, and I watched her cut it into triangles before she ate it. I was so confused, and then she looked up at me and told me that sandwiches always need to be cut into triangles. I just agreed because I wanted to keep dating her, but now if I don’t cut her sandwich into triangles, it becomes a whole conversation about sandwich shapes.” 

You hold back a laugh before calling for him, “Mase!”

A few moments later he pokes his head in, mild confusion written on his face. An eyebrow furrowed, you hold yourself back from going to kiss his cheek. “What’s this about sandwich shapes, I hear?” you ask, humor in your voice. 

His face flushes slightly, “Babe, that was months ago.” He moves towards you, pulling you into his chest. You squirm slightly, holding back laughter. 

“I refuse to be dating a man who won’t admit that triangles are the best sandwich shape!” you say, your voice muffled by his sweatshirt. You feel his chest shake slightly as he holds back a laugh. 

“What difference does it make?! It’s all a sandwich,” he jokingly remarks. You raise your head looking at him with an exaggerated expression of sadness. 

“Alright, alright…” he concedes, “How about this, we can each ask our followers what they think and whoever wins is correct.”

Your face breaks into a smile, and he grins down at you, leaning in for a soft kiss. 

[ilovegyokeres]

One where Kenans really pouty and clingy after loosing a game so the reader cuddles/ kisses him cause he’s her big baby.

𝒮𝒪𝐹𝒯 𝒮𝒫𝒪𝒯 ✧˖°

───────────✦✧✦──────────

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐘ı𝐥𝐝ı𝐳 | 𝐉𝐮𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐬 | 𝟐𝟒/𝟐𝟓 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𓆩♡𓆪

✧ 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧.

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞.

───────────✦✧✦──────────

The locker room was eerily quiet.

Juventus had lost a tough match, and Kenan Yıldız was taking it harder than anyone. It wasn’t an unusual sight—Kenan was the kind of player who carried everything on his shoulders, win or lose. He held himself to an impossible standard, and when things didn’t go his way, it ate him up inside.

You stood outside, waiting for him. You knew this routine well by now. After a game like this, Kenan would come out looking frustrated, lips pressed into a deep pout, barely saying a word. He’d probably shake off his teammates’ attempts to console him, avoid reporters, and head straight for you—his safe place.

And, just as you expected, when he finally emerged from the locker room, his eyes immediately found yours.

His brows were furrowed, his lips set in a firm line, and his shoulders were tense. He looked exhausted, frustrated, and—above all—heartbroken.

Without hesitation, he walked straight toward you.

You didn’t say anything as he dropped his duffle bag onto the floor and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"Hey, baby," you murmured, your hands immediately sliding into his slightly damp hair, nails scratching his scalp in the way you knew he loved.

Kenan exhaled heavily, his arms tightening around your waist. "I don’t wanna talk about it," he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

"I know," you whispered. You kissed the side of his head gently. "Let’s go home."

He nodded, but he didn’t let go.

Instead, he just held onto you for a few more moments, pressing himself against you like he needed to soak in your warmth.

Eventually, you coaxed him toward the car, though he stayed glued to your side, his fingers brushing against yours as you walked. When you slid into the driver’s seat, he hesitated before getting into the passenger side, clearly debating whether he could just sit in your lap instead.

The drive home was quiet. Kenan sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window, his jaw clenched. Every few minutes, he let out a dramatic sigh, shifting in his seat as if he had something to say but kept deciding against it.

You reached over, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. "You okay?"

Kenan pouted deeper. "No."

Your lips twitched at how adorable he looked, sulking like a little kid. "Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head immediately.

"Okay." You squeezed his thigh again. "Do you wanna cuddle when we get home?"

Kenan finally turned toward you, his brows lifting slightly, his pout still in place. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Then cuddles it is."

That seemed to satisfy him, though he still looked like he wanted to crawl into your lap right then and there.

When you pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, Kenan wasted no time getting out of the car and coming straight to your side, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the house. He was still moody, but it was clear he just wanted to be close to you—to feel something other than the weight of the loss pressing down on him.

As soon as you stepped inside, he let go of your hand only to wrap himself around you again, this time pulling you onto the couch with him.

He settled between your legs, resting his head on your stomach, arms wrapped around your waist. His body was still tense, his muscles tight with frustration, but as you began running your fingers through his hair, you felt him start to relax.

"Tough night, huh?" you murmured.

Kenan sighed, nuzzling further into your stomach. "Hated every second of it."

"You were amazing, Kenan," you whispered, dragging your fingers lightly over his scalp. "You always are."

His grip around your waist tightened. "Still doesn’t feel good."

"I know," you said softly, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "But I also know that cuddles help."

That finally got a small smile out of him. "They do."

"You wanna take a shower? Or just stay here?"

Kenan let out a deep sigh, as if the thought of moving was too much effort. "Later," he mumbled. "Just wanna be here right now."

You smiled, your fingers still combing through his hair. "Okay."

After a while, you felt his breathing even out, the exhaustion from the match catching up to him. His body was warm and heavy against yours, completely relaxed as you held him.

But you knew he wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping on the couch all night.

"Come on," you whispered, gently nudging him. "Let’s go to bed."

Kenan let out a small, sleepy whine but didn’t argue, reluctantly pushing himself up. He grabbed your hand, leading you toward the bedroom, and the second you both slipped under the covers, he pulled you into his arms again.

This time, he was the one holding you.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other tangled in your fingers, holding your hand against his chest. His legs intertwined with yours, his body completely pressed against you like he needed to feel every part of you close.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Better?"

Kenan hummed, his grip tightening. "Yeah."

You ran your fingers through his hair again, feeling him melt under your touch.

"I love you," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger against his skin. "I love you more."

Kenan made a small, content noise in the back of his throat. "Not possible."

You chuckled, kissing his temple. "It is."

He let out a deep breath, his entire body going slack against yours. The loss, the frustration, the self-doubt—it all faded away in the warmth of your embrace.

And within minutes, he was fast asleep, safe and comforted in your arms.