#i was going to say no and then i remembered REAL MADRID

[randombush3]

the winner takes it all

alexia putellas x reader

summary: an unexpected invitation throws your world off-kilter

words: 6276

content warnings: it's a bit unfaithful

notes: in this universe real madrid is a proper opponent and rival to barcelona, in the sense that funding and history is relatively equal (so it's basically more like the men's rivalry)

idk where this came from tbh

Amb gran alegria, 

Alexia i Olga

T’invitem a celebrar la nostra unió matrimonial. 

10 d’agost de 2025

Gran Hotel Mas d’en Bruno

You haven’t read Catalan in years. You squint at the details. 

You wish you had forgotten it. 

Only Alexia would do this to you, twisting the knife as though it’s a favour, a compliment. Make it seem psychotic for not wanting to go, make it seem like it’s not a big deal. 

The invitation isn’t personalised. You are not special in her eyes. You have been allowed onto the guest list, you have no mark in her life. Surely Olga would have objected if she’d known, if she’d been told. Maybe Alexia doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she has heard your name on match reports and team sheets, announcements for captaincy, interviews with Las 16 who called you traidora then and call you traidora now. 

As if she knew it was coming, your phone begins to light up with messages from Alba. Apologies, perhaps, in her own Alba way. Stuff like ‘are you coming’ and ‘you don’t have to’ and then more buzzing, vibrating the shitstorm into a phone call. 

You don’t speak often. Why would you? But you answer it, listless, really, and unsure what the correct approach to this even is. 

“Hola, traidorita,” she says with a nervous giggle, reclaiming your nickname in Barcelona but reminding you of how you are perceived nevertheless. “I don’t know why you are on the guest list.” 

Alba is like this: straight to the point, unafraid of her sister and unafraid to tell you what she thinks. They are very different, which is why she is the only one who has your current number in her contacts. 

“You told her where I live,” you respond. Your shock makes no room for manners. “Because no one there has my Madrid address, Albi.” 

“No one here has it, yeah. But she asked around. Well, Olga did.” She laughs again. Her nervousness is high-pitched and easily detected. “Told Ale that she has to have her childhood best friend at her wedding.” 

“Childhood best friend?” 

“Estranged childhood best friend?” she tries, and you can hear the smile and the teasing fucking smugness in it. You wonder if anyone else knows you have been invited. Alba because your address was squeezed out of her, sure, but… “And my mother thought it was a good idea too, before you try to murder a woman you have never met.” 

“I’ve met Olga before,” you say without thinking, because that’s far easier to focus on than the idea of Eli getting involved in this completely undesired reunion that is about two centuries too early. “When I was going out with, eh, I don’t remember her name. A model. You know what they’re like. Olga’s the one who works for… thingie.” 

There’s a sigh from the other end. “So many models yet not one name has been retained. Do you even ask them?” 

“We’re not usually doing much talking.” 

“Zorra.”

“Coming from you…” You smirk at the thought of all the little secrets Alba’s had you keep, a tradition that started young and became increasingly frequent when you removed yourself from everyone else’s lives. It’s like a journal, only you judge her. “You’re doing a good job of distracting me until I agree to go.” 

She hesitates, then. You’re not an idiot and you know why she called. Alba is supportive but she has her own agenda most of the time, and no one else knows the exact time you get back from training aside from your fellow teammates. Even then, most are too intimidated to contact you in general, let alone to ask about being invited to Alexia Putellas’ fucking wedding. 

Alba is also very manipulative, a professional puppeteer. And she knows exactly what to say. “It’s been fifteen years. Are you going to let her win?” It’s an infuriating provocation but it hits its target with ease. 

…

The first step of preparing for this wedding takes place in the form of the Euros: you’re going to win it and be happy enough to ignore the impending doom hanging over your off-season plans. Going into the competition with heavy medals round your necks makes cockiness the slippiest of slopes, and it is safe to say that most of your teammates are prepared to cruise through at least the group stages. 

An unexpected injury rips Jenni’s opportunity to play from her grasp (an echo of her ex-girlfriend, you briefly think), and she is flying back to Mexico before the tournament begins. Montse is a captain down – of course only this kind of disaster could happen to her – and before Patri can even open her mouth to volunteer for the role, you are dragged into a leadership meeting.

You’ve worn the armband before, though it seared and burned and blistered until you threw it in Jorge’s face and demanded someone else absorb the hatred it brought. He went ballistic as you’d said it, you remember, his face going red in the soft glow of your hotel room the night before the World Cup final. He’d leaned forwards, fist clenched, knuckles white and wanting to choke the life out of you.

“You have no respect!” he’d roared, voice splitting like thunder against the thin walls of your hotel room. “Not for me, not for your country, not for anything!” His breath was coming out in sharp ragged gasps. He spat. You’d wiped it off your body. “I thought you had scraped all the Catalan out of you, but here it is!” he’d screamed, loud enough to be heard but so comfortable in his power that it did not seem to frighten him. “Selfish and arrogant. You should have made it Seventeen.” 

He’d left in his rage, slamming his door. 

You regretted smiling in pictures with him, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. You regretted the press conferences and interviews, the shaky defence you had constructed, the words of faith and trust you had professed and tried to believe. It had changed you, just a little bit, that incident. Made you think about who you are, where you come from. Made you remember someone you’d tried to forget. 

But Irene and Alexia, staring at you with both contempt and confusion as you take a seat at the conference table, don’t know any of this. Why would they? To them, this is the traidora. 

“Y/n is going to take Jenni’s place as third captain,” says Montse firmly, if she even knows how to do that. Irene and Alexia share a glance. Their roles have been restored for this competition and they are not prepared for an intruder to take that from them, although Irene will later remind Alexia that it is not your fault Jenni got injured. “I trust you three will come up with a suitable management plan. If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

None of you really do know where she lurks, but she is walking off before you can clarify. 

“We already have a strategy.” And she says it in Catalan, looking falsely apologetic when she is kicked underneath the table. 

“Good job, Alexia,” you tell her, so nauseatingly saccharine that you almost think of the nearest route to a toilet. She’s surprised you’ve granted her a reply though, which is satisfying enough. About to spit out another remark to divide yourselves further, you shift in your chair, stretching out your legs underneath the table. 

It is then that her ring catches your eye.

It’s delicate, shiny. A neatly cut diamond set in platinum with slight details that tell you someone thought about Alexia when they had this made and got it all wrong. Or maybe this is what she likes now. It’s not what you’d have given her.

She sees your eyes fall to her fingers, watching carefully as your gaze heats the metal and makes it almost too hot for her to keep on. You don’t really want her to know that you’ve seen it but you��ve made it bleeding obvious and so the predicament spirals and Irene wants, desperately, to leave you two alone – she knows shouldn’t, she’s aware of the health and safety risk. 

There is something about the way Alexia clenches her jaw, posture stiffening as she allows herself one flicker from your face to the ring, that tells you she is bracing herself for a bullet. She always did have an uncanny ability to read you, however unwanted it was. 

You lean back in your chair, aware of how the bystander is holding her breath, and decide to swallow the words burning on your tongue. You’ve accepted her invitation, and bitter manners are still manners. “Congratulations,” you say, words clipped and brittle, each syllable more venomous than the last. 

The chair makes a screeching sound as you stand. Irene flinches but Alexia does not move. She refuses to watch as you walk out of the room. 

…

Three hours later, Alexia is off the phone with Olga and knocking on Irene’s door with an embarrassed suppression of urgency. Shoulders hunched and lips downturned, the sight is enough for her to be ushered inside with only the quiet flap of Irene’s arms to beckon her forwards. With this part of the training camp being not quite tunnel-vision yet, Irene’s room is littered with toys and toddler stuff. Usually Alexia would be looking at them in quiet excitement. Right now, she is not so sure. 

“Second thoughts?” Irene asks, and Alexia half-jumps backwards in shock, about to furiously shake her head and profess her love for Olga– “I think the plan is good. I don’t think we need to worry about Y/n in the centre, seeing how she’s been playing there this season.” 

It slowly dawns on Alexia that Irene has assumed this is pre-tournament nerves, and that she is being shown such a vulnerable side of her co-captain because, well, who else can be? No one wants to see their commander gulp at the sight of the battlefield. 

“She still favours her left,” Alexia gets out. “She might drift, leaving a big gap for you to cover.” 

“She’s got offers from PSG, Chelsea, and Washington Spirit. It’s in her interest not to drift.” 

“She’s good at drifting.” 

Irene doesn’t respond to that. 

“Since when did you wear your ring to training?” is what she chooses to say instead, asking the question with a healthy fear of getting her head bitten off, taking a small step backwards to put her at a safer distance. 

Alexia doesn’t reply immediately, her fingers grazing the ring as she thinks. The weight of it seems heavier now, almost suffocating in the sterile air of the hotel room, as though this is everything she’s been trying to avoid. Her heart thuds against her ribcage. It feels like everyone is starting to notice. 

“I didn’t think it was an issue.” Her voice is tight, defensive, but with a subtle, betraying crack. She pulls her hand back from the air, letting it fall to her side. “We hardly did much more than pass the ball today so I kept it on.” 

It’s a poor excuse. It comes off for the cameras, not the contact of the game. Irene knows that. But, to her credit, she doesn’t push. She just watches Alexia, eyes narrowed slightly in an unreadable expression. “I just thought you guys were keeping it a bit more… private.” 

Alexia turns her gaze to the floor, staring at the scattered toys and items around the room. The simplicity of it all, the domestic innocence, makes her feel even more tangled. She feels an urge to lie, to say that Olga asked her to, worried that you’d misinterpret its absence, but Olga doesn’t even know she has reason to lose sleep. She hasn’t found the courage to explain. She hasn’t felt the need to. 

And, really, the truth is right here, echoing between them. Irene would have pieced together the story, as many of Alexia’s teammates have, hearing drunken retellings on nights out from whoever has known the two of you the longest that time. Maybe Alba has spoken to her, revealing everything after a round of tequila shots, as she tends to do. There are a few suggestions the older woman could make to her teammate, wounds she could open and then nurse, but she doesn’t and so she waits. 

Until, finally, Alexia admits, “it’s complicated. She has caught me off-guard.” It could mean many things, but it is either your captaincy or the acceptance of her wedding invitation that has done Alexia in. She wonders whether this feeling of dread and uncertainty is the game – or the life waiting for her after she comes back from Switzerland. “Look,” she says abruptly, “I’m not here for advice, Irene.”

“Then why are you in my room?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. Irene sweeps her outside, gently but firmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she treads lightly, “but when was the last time you had a conversation with her?” 

…

The training pitch in Switzerland is unseasonably hot, the kind of heat that clings to the air and makes tempers run shorter than usual. It’s almost a cure to homesickness but then the team look at each other and are back to hating every minute of this. There’s an undeniable divide. Montse either does not care or has not caught on. 

It’s about your twentieth rondo this session, the ball zipping across the wilting grass as it touches Barça foot to Barça foot, the girls obviously enjoying this. You’re only holding back because too much investment will lead to another injury, and you are getting somewhat tired of being called a traitor. The players surround you with a ruthless efficiency that is starting to fray your nerves, and you make a note to talk to your coach about training, knowing that it will be easy to manipulate her into following something akin to what the girls at Madrid are more accustomed to. 

Alexia is one of your taunters. Of course she is. 

“Just three more interceptions,” she calls out, false strain, false support, false encouragement. 

You bite back a retort, instead standing still as Aitana rolls a ball right past you. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feigning exhaustion, but the pretense is only that in name. Everyone knows you are one of the best defenders, the Barça girls especially, with their insane pride for La Masia. 

“Lazy,” Alexia mutters. 

You don’t respond, focusing instead on the fire in your chest as you forcibly break the circle and march towards Montse. She looks up from her clipboard as you approach. 

“We should split training.” She pauses and then nods. “Attack and defence, at least. And don’t let the press hear this, but, my god, Montse, I do not like how they’re all back.” 

“We’re a stronger team,” she says, but she’s smiling and you are definitely her favourite. Another deep breath and she is calling a water break. 

The girls retreat to the sidelines for ice and hydration, and you reunite with the people you like. Your club teammates prefer you at national camp, because there is something less reclusive about you. It’s as though you’re trying to prove that you get on. 

Olga hands you a water bottle, the contents of which you guzzle down in one go. She begins to comment on the absurdity of Alexia’s mandated rondos (“why do they have to keep reminding themselves how to pass a ball?”) and while you agree, your attention is diverted. Alexia is standing a few meters away with Mariona Caldentey. She’s listening to something the forward is telling her, face focused, finger twisting her ring around in circles. 

That fucking ring. 

You look away before you are caught in such a compromising position, wiping your forehead with your damp training shirt. 

“Oye,” Misa’s voice pulls you back, “are you paying attention?” You’re not even sure when she joined the conversation. Your relationship with the goalkeeper has always been overly complicated. You work very closely, what with you commanding the backline and her… also commanding the backline. But she’s friends with people who must have at least once wished you dead, so it’s hard to tell where you stand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lie, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and placing it in Olga’s held-out palm. 

“You’re never this spacey. You’ve been off since the meeting,” she presses, her voice gentle but insistent. “If this is about the captaincy–” 

“It’s not,” you snap, harsher than what was meant. Her eyes widen slightly and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. It’s not about that. I’m fine.” 

Misa doesn’t look convinced but she nods, letting it drop. Gratitude relaxes your shoulders but the uneasy silence that follows is punishing enough for you to be eager for training to resume. 

Now that the rondos have been left behind until tomorrow, you divide into teams for a scrimmage. The squad is split into four and you throw yourself into the exercise. Every touch, every pass, every run is perfect, and you are unrecognisable from your lackadaisical lull only ten minutes ago. You’re pushing your body and it flicks onto autopilot, driven by muscle memory and determination. 

Your head’s not in it. You can’t outrun her shadow. You can’t think when your teams are against each other. 

The ring must have come off now, and she is getting stuck in. She’s relentless and irritating, evading your teammates’ tackles and drawing you into her. It’s almost transportative: back you go to gardens after school or being barefoot on the beach, forced out of your relaxation and into an endless game of ‘tackle me like you mean it’. She has that same glint in her eye, that same goading gleam. You consider it, but crutches at a wedding is a low blow. 

And so you lay off. Just on her, and only just enough so that she knows you are not trying. You do not care for petty squabbles. You are not willing to go back to those memories, to that time. 

Or at least, that’s the message you hope she gets. 

The games slowly wind down, prompted by Montse’s whistle to signal the end of the session. You stay on the pitch longer than anyone else, taking you time to collect the stray balls scattered across the grass. It’s partly an excuse to delay walking into the locker room, where the tension will be thick (you were not the right choice for third captain in the eyes of your teammates), and partly because you need a moment to breathe. 

The others slowly disperse, peeling off to the showers or collapsing onto benches. Alexia lingers longer than most, wiping away her sweat with her shirt, abs exposed and tensed. She watches you as you move across the pitch, and though her gaze is subtle, you can feel it blazing hotter than the sun lashing down on you. But, despite her staring, she too is eventually coaxed away. You’re unsure whether she is thankful for the interruption. 

When you finally make your way to the changing rooms, most of your teammates are in the showers, and the sound of running water mingled with laughter echoes. You take a seat at the locker you were assigned and let out a slow breath, peeling off sweat-soaked socks with mild disgust. You turn to fling them into your laundry bag, but their flight path is blocked by a blonde who has clearly delayed her own shower to talk to you. 

She’s looking oddly pensive. You don’t like it. 

“We need to talk.” It’s uncomfortable for Alexia to say and it’s worse for you to hear. You’re not sure you’re okay with her decision to become reasonable and mature. It’s quite the compliment to always be the cause for stoic, rational Alexia Putellas going absolutely batshit crazy. 

Driving her up the wall is fun. 

“I’ll send you an invitation. No need to tell me which room is yours.” You give her a smile. And, like you always do, you walk away. 

…

There’s a charge to the air that is choking you by dinner time. The upgrade to captain allowed for your own room, and it is easy to blow off teammates who want to have plans with you with the simple excuse of needing to talk to your agent. You technically do, since you are going to leave Madrid during the transfer window, but you have no intention of dialling his number until he confirms the best and furthest team wants you. 

You’ve spent the evening avoiding the majority of the players, which Montse took advantage of, encouraging you to spend dinner discussing tactics with her and her staff. You feel like the teacher’s pet. You know how angry it is making Alexia.

Collapsing on the bed when you back into your room, you let out a loud groan, sinking into the mattress. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and for a moment, you think it might be Alba, allowing you no peace and quiet despite her distance. Instead, it’s a message on the team group chat from the strength and conditioning coach about tomorrow’s gym session. A wave of relief washes over you; anything but her. 

Still, as you scroll, you catch yourself lingering on the names in the group chat, your thumb hovering near Alexia’s. Your stomach tightens and the memory of her tone, her expression, pulls at you like a tether. 

She’s not going to drop this. 

It’s no longer a matter of avoidance in the camp. You’ve said you will be present. She must want to ensure you will not make a scene. 

A knock at the door, so quiet you are almost convinced it was imagined, breaks you out of your brooding. Your eyes watch the wood as though it will be splintered in a moment, but when you make no move to get up, a more insistent knock sounds. You sigh as you pull yourself off your bed, dragging your feet towards the door. Opening it, you find Alexia standing there, arms crossed and wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher. It lacks her usual burning hatred. She looks exhausted. 

You struggle to feel any sympathy. 

“What?” you snap. It’s a bit harsher than intended but you don’t let on that that’s the case. 

“Can I come in?” You guess that she didn’t pick up the hint when you gave her no invitation. You do not want to talk. You don’t do that to people much anymore. 

She expects the door to slam in her face – and you consider it – but it’s your hesitation that tells her she can, and so she slowly moves inside, shoulder brushing yours because you refuse to move out of the way. And then she raises a deliberate hand towards the door, pushing it shut. You ignore the ring. 

You lean against the door once it’s shut, arms folded as she wanders further into your room. She looks out of place somewhere so personal to you, standing awkwardly in the centre and trying not to look at the explosion of clothes and books that has been detonated on the floor. 

She reads the titles of a few – classics that look dense and boring. Something hungry inside her dulls a bit, because you have not changed in this respect. 

“You’re quiet for someone who wants to talk,” you prompt, mostly because the silence is unbearable. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms drop to her sides, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves. She tries to meet your eyes, but falters when she sees the cold indifference staring back. You’re looking at her like she’s a stranger. It stings more than it should.

“I didn’t invite you to the wedding,” she says finally. “Olga doesn’t know about us.” 

“There’s no ‘us’,” you snap, sharper this time.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, she looks as though she’s been struck. “Don’t lie.” 

“There is no ‘us’,” you repeat, your tone icy now. “That disappeared the minute I–” 

“Left,” comes her interruption, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice. She steps closer, her shadow crossing yours, and her eyes narrow. “Which was your decision, not mine.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a say in it.” 

“I didn’t!” she fires back, her voice rising. There is something raw beneath it – something fractured. “You didn’t give me one. You walked out, and you shut me out like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.” 

Her words hang in the air and for a moment, you don’t know whether to shoot or turn away. But her gaze pins you in place, fierce and unrelenting, as though daring you to deny it. 

You hold her stare, your throat tightening. “And you didn’t try to stop me.” 

The silence that follows feels deafening. Neither of you moves. Neither of you blinks. You’re both standing on landmines and have nowhere to go. 

Her jaw clenches, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her voice, though low, crackles with the heat of restrained anger. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to stop you.” And she steps closer, ready to bite. The door presses against your back as you instinctively move away. “You made up your mind before I even knew what was happening.” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.” You shake your head. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave, Alexia.”

Her expression darkens, something in her eyes flickering dangerously. “That’s not the point. You didn’t just leave the club. You didn’t just leave me. You left everything. Our family. Our life. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you walk away as if none of it mattered?” 

Your chest tightens but you refuse to let her words land. “You don’t get to make me the villain here.” 

“I don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice rising now, accent thickening with her anger. “You were part of my family, part of me. You were at every Christmas, every birthday. My mother adored you. Alba still loves you like you are her own sister! And you just disappeared like none of it meant anything. Like we didn’t mean anything.”

You flinch at the weight of her words but force yourself into steadiness. “I didn’t belong there. It wasn’t mine, it was yours.” 

Her face twists in disbelief, voice trembling as it rises again. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You were my family. My first everything. My first kiss. My first…” She pauses, her voice cracking. You swallow hard – you don’t want the fucking itemised list. “My first time. You think I just gave that to anyone? You think that it was just fun and games?” 

Your stomach churns as she stokes a fire you’ve tried to smother for years. “It wasn’t nothing,” you agree, although it sounds like you are contradicting her in a way that causes her to falter on her drive forwards. “It was everything. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t be what was needed anymore. Because I knew if I stayed, I’d only–” 

“Only what?” 

You gulp. 

She’s back in your face, voice laced with venom. “Hurt me? Ruin me? Let us all done? Guess what, you did that anyway. Leaving made it easier? Made it hurt less?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” you shout, voice splitting. 

“You stay!” It echoes and it bruises your skin. Her eyes are blazing now, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “You stay, because that is what you do when you love someone. When you love a family. You don’t just walk away from them. You fight.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between guilt and pride. She sees it and it only seems to enrage her further. 

Her voice drops, anger so torrid she has to purposely cool her tone. “You know, I thought that my world was ending then. I thought you’d done your worst. But I was wrong. Because your betrayal wasn’t just personal, it was… political. To not see someone you love except for when they are sitting at the feet of this. Corruption’s pet. Pandering to an organisation you hated, while the rest of us fought for scraps.” 

Heat rises in your chest. How dare she– “I don’t pander to anyone.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” she spits. She’s too close. She’s too inescapable. And her anger is no longer fiery but icy, piercing through your skin. “I’ve seen the way you act around them, bowing your head and playing the loyal soldier while they tear us apart. You think I didn’t notice how he favoured you? Or how Montse magically replaces an irreplaceable member of–” 

“It’s not like that,” you counter, but the words feel hollow even to you.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “What is it that makes you stand there and let them walk all over us? Let them divide us? And don’t you dare say it is for the good of the team. The team hates you for it. We all do. You’ve earned every bit of it, traidora.” 

The word hits you like a whip, lacerating and making you bleed. Your hands curl into fists so tightly your nails dig into your palms, the sting barely enough to contain the fury surging through you. “Don’t you dare call me that!” The sentence tears out of your throat, rough and jagged. You take a step forwards, the air between you crackling with tension, your voice breaking as you spit, “you don’t get to say that to me. Not you.”

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s what you are. You left, you betrayed everything we stood for, and then you came back just to make things worse. You made your choices.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her, the anger and heartbreak in her eyes, eviscerating and leaving you hollow. But then, something shifts in the air between you, and you find your voice again, souring from before.

“Is that why you’re here, Alexia? To throw all of this in my face? To let out fifteen years of harboured emotion? Or is it something else?” 

Her brow furrows in confusion. Surprise. And then her expression twists into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You take a step forward now, and she is forced to retreat. “Do you not want to marry Olga, Alexia? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Because you think you can come into my room, dredge all of this up, and make me the reason you’re unhappy?” 

Her face pales as she takes a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t,” she warns, firmly enough to signal you need to push.

So you do. 

“You came here because you’re scared.” She shakes her head but it’s rigid and forced. “Because you’re not sure you can go through with it and you want me to give you a reason to back out. Well, I’m not going to do that for you. This isn’t my mess. It’s yours.”

She says nothing and you feel sick. Her chest rises and falls with each gasping breath. She opens her mouth but again, you are left with silence, and the expression in her eyes flickers between defiance, confusion, and vulnerability. For a long moment, it feels like everything that could be said has been. 

The air between you is charged, but neither of you know which way it will go. 

You stare at her watching her waver. And it hits you: she doesn’t know what to do. 

All of this, all the anger and the pain, all the accusations and betrayals, has led her here, to this moment. She thought she had an answer, she thought she would be able to end this, but now? Now, Alexia is lost. There is too much here, too much to lose. And for the first time in a long while, you are feeling the same thing. You are both no longer sure if you want to fight. 

She takes a hesitant step closer and you freeze. But then, just as quickly, her hand moves – not to strike, not to harm, but to touch you. Her fingers brush lightly over the fabric of your sleeve, almost tenderly, before they fall away, and you don’t know if the motion was meant for comfort or something else.

Her breath is ragged, coming in slow, uneven gasps. Her eyes never leave yours. You don’t want them to. 

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she murmurs, the rawness in her tone shattering any remaining wall between you. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

How do you respond to that? You want her to leave but the thought is unbearable. You want space but she is not close enough. Something inside you stirs, something you can’t fight; a need to understand her and make her understand you. To make her see how tangled this, how impossible it has always been. 

Before you can form the word, before you can even think, she moves in closer, and there is no longer distance. She doesn’t ask for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. And then, without warning, her lips are on yours. 

It’s soft, tentative at first, as though testing the waters of something neither of you is sure of anymore. But then it shifts. Her body leans into yours, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if this is everything that has not been said and has been at the same time. Your heart races, a million conflicting emotions crashing through you. Anger, betrayal, love – it is all here, you can taste it on her lips. It’s fierce, desperate, and it feels like an endless cycle of need and regret, pulling you both back to something raw, something irretrievable. 

Her hands find your waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring herself to something that could pull her under. You instinctively respond, pulling her closer, drawing in the heat of her touch, the scent of her skin, the pressure of her body against yours. For a fleeting second, everything else fades away. There’s no past, no future, only here and now. 

And then the fog clears. 

You pull back, breathless and worse off. You’ve fucked up again. Alexia is crying. 

“I’m not the person you think I am anymore,” you say, but it’s hard to meet her gaze. “I can’t be that person for you.”

Her eyes search yours desperately for lies, for deceit. She wants it to be wrong. She doesn’t know why. And she replies, “I don’t care what you think you’ve become,” because she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to her.

You stare at her, heart pounding, and you want to feel like this will be worth it, but nothing comes except cold emptiness. You force yourself to stay upright. “I think the wedding will be good.” She swallows. “You’ll be happy with Olga. I’m sure of it.” 

It’s a death sentence. 

This time, it is Alexia who leaves. 

…

The wedding is beautiful. Blissful sunlight makes the venue seem to glow and it is hard not to be impressed with how they have set this up. 

The model at your side is also beautiful, but you remind yourself it is not a competition. You focus on the whispers of anticipation from the guests, the rustle of the dresses as people pass in merry groups, clinking their glasses and finishing their champagne as they take their seats. Everything looks perfect, plucked from magazines and tasteful brochures. This must be what Alexia wanted. 

Your date is occupying herself in conversation with the man seated next to you, who might be hitting on her, though you don’t care. She slides a hand over your thigh anyway. 

The ceremony begins, although you’re not really concentrating on it. You try to focus, listening as the officiant speaks, but the words have become a dull hum. It’s all so rehearsed, so expected, and it’s boring. You won’t be getting married anytime soon, that’s for sure. 

You know the flow of these things: the vows, the promises, the kiss, and the crowd’s applause. It’s a performance, though it’s not quite a farce. 

And then, it comes. The moment. The one that feels like a trap. 

The officiant pauses, glancing out over the gathering. “Si algú s'hi oposa, que parli ara o calli per sempre.”

For a heartbeat, time slows. The air thickens. Every muscle in your body tenses and the world around you goes still. You catch yourself holding your breath, gaze instinctively shifting to the woman standing at the front of the altar. 

Alexia. 

Her eyes flicker briefly in your direction – just a flicker, but it’s there, unmistakable. It’s her moment of hesitation, well masked but clear as day to you. But before you can make sense of it, she’s looking away, eyes fixed back onto Olga. Her expression hardens, more composed now, and you know that you are not going to break this silence. 

The officiant, oblivious to the storm passing between you both, waits for a beat longer before continuing, his voice echoing in the silence. 

And she’s married. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s over now. You’ve let her win. 

[djedsspence]

to be honest with you i don’t know much about what was going on at spurs before i started watching and following regularly and this leads to moments like when i just saw the score line from october 17th 2017 on an instagram post and genuinely had to search myself for if varane was a spurs player

[insidekatmind]

That Girl Is Mine ~ Kylian Mbappé × Reader × Vinícius Jr. (Feat. Jude Bellingham)

Madrid was the city of lights, football, and dreams. The Spanish capital buzzed with fans, paparazzi, and tourists wandering through its charming streets. You were there, an ordinary girl thrust into an extraordinary world. You worked as a sports journalist, but what no one knew—and what you carefully kept hidden—was your secret relationship with Jude Bellingham, the young talent of Real Madrid.

But your life was far from simple. Aside from the secrecy, there was a rather... awkward issue: two of your most famous colleagues, Kylian Mbappé and Vinícius Júnior, seemed to be in a constant battle for your attention.

It was a crisp December evening, and the Santiago Bernabéu was still glowing under the post-match lights. Real Madrid had just won an important match, and as usual, you were busy navigating the post-game interviews. Jude had thrown you a quick, meaningful glance as he passed by. That subtle smile of his was all you needed to feel reassured, even though you had to pretend it was just a casual gesture.

You were packing up your things when Kylian approached you. Still wearing his Real Madrid jersey, his forehead glistening with sweat, his confident and charming smile remained intact.

"Are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a drink with us? I’ve noticed you work too much," he said, his tone low but loaded with a suggestion you couldn’t ignore.

You smiled, keeping your tone professional. "Thanks, Kylian, but I have a lot of work to do."

"Ah, work, work..." he replied, shaking his head. "Sometimes, you need to live a little. You know, there’s so much of Madrid you haven’t seen yet. I could show you the city."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the conversation. "Show her the city? Kylian, I don’t think she needs a guide. I’ve lived here longer than you, remember?"

Vinícius had appeared beside you both, a provocative smile on his lips. It was clear he had been eavesdropping on every word. His eyes gleamed with challenge as he looked at his teammate. You, caught in the middle, felt like a pawn in a game you hadn’t chosen to play.

"Vinícius, same old," Kylian replied with a smile, though his eyes betrayed a certain tension. "I wasn’t talking to you, anyway."

Vinícius turned to you. "So, what do you say? The city of Madrid is much more interesting than Kylian can make it seem. We could explore the real neighborhoods, away from the tourists."

It was as if the world had stopped around you. You needed an excuse, fast. "Thanks to both of you, but honestly, I’m tired tonight. Maybe another time."

They didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t much else they could do but let you go.

Later that evening, you were finally home. Your phone buzzed, and you smiled at Jude’s message.

Jude: "Everything okay? I saw Kylian and Vini hanging around you… I’m jealous. See you tomorrow after training, okay?"

You quickly replied. "Everything’s fine, I promise. See you tomorrow."

Your conversations were simple, sweet, and reassuring. Jude was your anchor amidst the chaos. But the next day, things became even more complicated.

During training at Valdebebas, you were there for a series of interviews. It was impossible to ignore the looks Kylian and Vinícius kept throwing your way as they ran on the field. Even Jude seemed to notice, though he remained focused on his drills.

After the session, Kylian was the first to approach. "You know, yesterday I couldn’t help but notice you always seem distant. Is something wrong? Can I help?"

You were trying to form a reply when Vinícius interrupted, wiping his face with a shirt. "Hey, Kylian, are you interrogating her? Maybe she just wants a bit of peace."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Vini," Kylian shot back, his tone irritated.

"Guys, please," you intervened, trying to stay calm. "I’m just doing my job."

But inside, your heart was pounding. Their interest was flattering, but also a problem. You couldn’t afford for anyone to find out about your relationship with Jude. And yet, every glance and every word exchanged only heightened the tension.

That evening, as you sat with Jude at your secret spot—a small café hidden in the heart of Madrid—you told him everything. He listened attentively, his face serious.

"I don’t like the way they’re acting," he said, squeezing your hand under the table. "But I understand we can’t do anything for now. I promise we’ll find a way to live all of this out in the open one day."

You smiled at him, feeling safe in his presence. Jude wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your refuge amidst the chaos of a life that felt like a novel. But you knew the story between you, Kylian, and Vinícius was far from over. And Madrid, with its lights and secrets, was the perfect stage for the next act.

The tension was palpable, like a taut rope about to snap. Over the following days, Kylian and Vinícius’s gestures and attitudes became more explicit. Seemingly innocent comments turned into subtly suggestive remarks, lunch invitations, and lingering glances. Jude, despite his calm and rational nature, had begun to show signs of irritation.

One evening, after a crucial match at the Bernabéu, things came to a head.

After the game, while you were gathering material for an article, Vinícius approached you in the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. He was still sweaty, but his mischievous smile was flawless.

"So, have you thought about my invitation? I’ll take you somewhere no one knows, guaranteed. Just you and me, no distractions," he said, his tone a bit too familiar for your liking.

Before you could respond, Kylian appeared behind you both, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, Vini, aren’t you tired of playing the romantic? Sorry for you, but I think her time is already booked for the evening."

You sighed, trying to stay calm. "Guys, enough with these games. I’ve already told you I’m not interested."

Vinícius laughed, leaning slightly forward as if he found it all incredibly amusing. "Really? You don’t seem that uninterested."

It was then that Jude appeared, striding out of the locker room with a determined walk. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, his face was tense, his gaze a mix of anger and resolve.

"Vini, Kylian, stop," he said, his voice calm but authoritative. Both turned to him, surprised.

Kylian crossed his arms, frowning. "And what does this have to do with you, Jude?"

"It has everything to do with me," Jude replied, stepping closer. He glanced at you briefly before addressing them directly. "She’s my girlfriend. And she has been for a long time. So, with all due respect, you need to stop."

The silence that followed was deafening. Vinícius and Kylian stood frozen, unable to hide their shock. Your heart was racing, but you also felt a sense of relief. Finally, the truth was out.

"Are you serious?" Kylian asked, incredulous. "She’s...?"

"Yes," Jude said firmly, locking eyes with them. "And now that you know, I’m asking you to respect us."

Vinícius looked almost offended. "And you thought to tell us like this, after all this time? Maybe you should have made it clear earlier."

"It wasn’t your business," Jude shot back, his tone hard. "But now you know. Enough with the games."

Kylian ran a hand through his hair, trying to process it all. Then he looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. "And you? Why didn’t you ever tell us?"

"I couldn’t," you said, your voice firm but calm. "We wanted to keep it private. That doesn’t mean I was playing with you."

Kylian nodded slowly, as if trying to come to terms with the situation. Vinícius, on the other hand, looked less convinced but said nothing. After a few moments of tension, they both walked away, leaving you alone with Jude.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jude turned to you, his face softening. "I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand seeing them act like that anymore. They needed to know."

You stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. "You did the right thing. I couldn’t take it anymore either."

Jude sighed, pulling you into a hug. "From now on, no more secrets. I don’t care what people say. What matters is that it’s us."

You melted into his embrace, finally feeling free. Even though you knew the gossip would start soon, you didn’t care anymore. Madrid was full of secrets, but yours was no longer one of them.

[starlitmelanin]

as it was | jude bellingham

pairing - jude x fem!reader

word count - 2k

warnings - none

summary - you still craved summer, but sometimes you meant summer, five years ago. before dortmund. before real madrid. when jude was just, well, jude.

you’re at your favourite ice cream shop, the one that’s been there since you were a kid. the bell above the door rings as you walk in, a sound that used to send a thrill down your spine because it meant ice cream on a hot day, shared with friends. now, it’s just a sound.

the teenage girl behind the counter looks bored. she barely glances up from her phone as you approach, but you don’t mind. you’re here for one thing, and you know exactly what it is. “one scoop of chocolate fudge brownie, please,” you say, handing over a few crumpled bills.

you sit at a corner table, the same one you used to sit at with jude. back then, you’d order two scoops each, and he’d always finish his first, grinning as he waited for you to catch up. you’d laugh and tell him he was going to get brain freeze, but he never did.

the ice cream arrives, and you take a bite. it’s good, but it doesn’t taste the same. maybe it’s you that’s changed. maybe it’s everything else.

you can’t help but think about those summers before everything shifted. back when jude was just jude, the boy who lived down the street, the boy who’d knock on your door with a football under his arm, asking if you wanted to play. you always did.

those days were simple. you’d spend hours at the park, kicking the ball around, making up silly challenges for each other. you remember the way the sun felt on your skin, the way your laughter echoed in the empty playgrounds, the way jude would look at you with that lopsided grin of his, like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

but things change. they always do.

you remember the day he told you he was leaving for dortmund. it was late summer, the air thick with humidity. you were sitting on the swings, the ones that creaked with every push. he was quiet, more serious than usual. you knew something was up, but you didn’t press him. jude would talk when he was ready.

“i got an offer,” he said finally, staring at the ground. “from dortmund.”

your heart sank, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “that’s amazing, jude. really.”

he looked up, and there was a sadness in his eyes that mirrored your own. “yeah, it is. but it means i’m leaving. in a few weeks.”

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i know.”

the rest of the summer was a blur. you spent every moment you could with him, knowing that soon he’d be gone. you tried to make the most of it, but there was always that shadow hanging over you, the knowledge that things were about to change.

when he left, it felt like a part of you went with him. you kept in touch, of course. texts, calls, the occasional visit. but it wasn’t the same. he was in a different world now, a world of professional football, of fame and fortune. and you were still here, in the same small town, living the same small life.

then came real madrid. another move, another layer of distance. you were happy for him, you really were. but it was hard not to feel left behind.

you look at the ice cream melting in your bowl and sigh. it’s not just the ice cream that doesn’t taste the same. it’s everything. the summers, the laughter, the feeling of being young and carefree. you miss it all. you miss him.

you get up and leave the shop, the bell ringing behind you. outside, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the streets. you start walking, not really knowing where you’re going, just needing to move.

you end up at the park, the one where you and jude spent so many afternoons. it’s quieter now, the playground empty. you sit on one of the swings and close your eyes, letting the memories wash over you.

you can almost hear his voice, his laugh. you can almost see him, running ahead of you, calling out for you to catch up. you smile, even as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

you know you can’t go back. you know things will never be the same. but for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself remember. you let yourself feel the warmth of those summer days, the joy of those simple moments.

you let yourself miss him.

and then, you get up, wipe your eyes, and start walking home. the past is a beautiful place, but it’s not where you live. you have your own life, your own dreams. and while they might not be as grand as jude’s, they’re yours.

as you walk, you think about the future. maybe you’ll visit madrid someday. maybe you’ll see jude again, and things will be different, but still good. you don’t know. but you do know that you’ll always have those summers, those memories. and that’s enough.

you turn the corner and see your house up ahead, the porch light on, welcoming you home. you smile, feeling a little lighter.

you might not crave chocolate fudge brownie ice cream the way you used to, but that’s okay. you’ll find new things to love, new moments to cherish.

and who knows? maybe one day, you’ll find something that tastes even better.

—

you push open the front door and step into the familiar comfort of your home. it smells like dinner, something savoury and warm. you kick off your shoes and pad into the kitchen, where your mom is stirring a pot on the stove.

“hey, sweetheart,” she says, glancing up with a smile. “how was your day?”

“it was good,” you lie, smiling back. it’s easier than explaining the tangled mess of emotions that today dredged up. “what’s for dinner?”

“spaghetti. your favourite.”

you nod, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. it’s another thing that doesn’t quite taste the same anymore, but you appreciate the effort. your mom always knows how to make you feel better, even if she doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong.

you eat dinner together, making small talk about work, friends, the usual. it’s nice, comforting. it’s normal, and you cling to that.

later, you’re in your room, scrolling through social media. you’ve been avoiding it lately, knowing that every other post is about jude’s latest match, his latest accomplishment. you’re proud of him, you really are, but sometimes it’s just too much.

you scroll past a photo of him, grinning broadly, holding up a trophy. you pause, your finger hovering over the like button. you hesitate, then double-tap, watching the heart fill in. he deserves your support, even from afar.

a notification pops up on your screen hours later, a little after midnight: a message from jude. your heart instantly skips a beat. it’s been a while since you last talked, and seeing his name brings a rush of memories, a mix of joy and sadness.

you open the message.

“how’ve you been? miss you.”

simple words, but they mean everything. you type back minutes later, fingers hesitantly sliding over the screen.

“been good. miss you too.”

his reply comes quickly.

“going to be in town next week. would love to catch up. if you’re free...”

your heart races. it’s been too long since you’ve seen him in person. you don’t know what to feel – excitement, anxiety, a little bit of both.

“i’d love that,” you type back, trying to keep your tone casual, and his reply comes shortly after.

“great. can’t wait to see you.”

you smile at the screen. it’s small, but it’s a genuine smile this time. you feel a flutter of hope, a spark of something you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe this is what you need, a chance to reconnect, to see if things can still be good between you and jude, even if they’re different.

the next few days pass in a blur. you find yourself thinking about him more. you’re nervous, but also excited. you wonder what he’ll be like now, how much he’s changed, how much you’ve changed.

finally, the day arrives. you’ve arranged to meet at the park, the one where you spent so many summers together. it feels fitting, a way to bridge the past and the present.

you arrive early, your heart pounding in your chest. you sit on the swings, just like you used to, and wait. the minutes stretch on, each one feeling like an eternity.

then, you see him. he’s walking towards you, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. he’s still the same jude, with that easy smile, that confident stride. but as he gets closer, you notice the differences – he’s taller, more muscular, his face a little more mature. but his eyes are the same, warm and familiar.

“hey, y/n,” he says, stopping in front of you.

“hey, jude,” you reply, standing up. you feel awkward, unsure of what to do. but then he pulls you into a hug, and it’s like everything falls into place.

“it’s so good to see you,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair.

“you too,” you whisper, hugging him back tightly.

you pull away, and for a moment, you just look at each other, taking it all in. then he grins, that pretty grin that you’ve missed so much.

“so… wanna play some football?” he asks, holding up a ball.

you laugh, feeling a rush of nostalgia. “you know i do.”

you spend the afternoon like you used to, kicking the ball around, making up silly challenges. it feels good, like slipping into an old, comfortable pair of shoes. you talk and laugh, and for a while, it’s like no time has passed at all.

but eventually, the conversation turns serious. you’re sitting on the grass, catching your breath, when jude looks at you, his expression thoughtful.

“i’ve missed this,” he says quietly.

you look at him, feeling a lump form in your throat. “i’ve missed it too. more than you know.”

he nods, looking down at the ground. “it’s been hard, being away. i’ve thought about you a lot.”

“me too,” you admit. “i’m really proud of you, jude. but it’s been tough, watching you from afar, feeling like i’m not a part of your life anymore.”

he reaches out, taking your hand. “you’re always a part of my life, y/n. no matter where i am, no matter what i’m doing. you’re important to me. i don’t want to lose that.”

you squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i don’t want to lose that either.”

you sit in silence for a while, just holding hands, letting the moment sink in. you don’t know what the future holds, but for now, you’re here, together. and that’s enough.

as the sun sets, casting a golden glow over the park, you feel a sense of peace. things might never be exactly the same, but that’s okay. you and jude, you’ll figure it out. you’ll find a new normal, a new way to be together, even if it’s different.

you stand up, pulling jude to his feet. “come on,” you say, smiling. “let’s go get some ice cream.”

he grins, and for a moment, he’s just jude again, the boy you’ve known your whole life. “chocolate fudge brownie?”

and as he throws his arm around your shoulders, you laugh quietly, feeling like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

“yeah,” you nod, your arms circling around his torso. “chocolate fudge brownie.”

[cosmicpearlz]

christmas wishes and kisses

summary: he was determined to confess tonight. preferably under the mistletoe, but the universe had other plans.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

jude can count on both hands, how many times he's lost y/n in the crowd. one too many times for his liking. the annual christmas party that vini threw was in full swing. from member of real madrid being there to other celebrities and friends. but all jude wanted was alone time with y/n. something he couldn't get for the life of him tonight.

"you find her yet?" jobe clasps his hand onto jude's shoulder. the older boy sighs and shakes his head.

"no! i haven't seen her since she was talking to luka's wife."

"you had a whole plan though, right?”

"yes, i was supposed to bring her to one of the spare rooms that vini has and when we stand under the door, the mistletoe is gonna be there. then, i was planning on telling her how i felt."

"well don't give up now brother. there's still time."

-

you were nursing your second drink. originally coming to the party just to see jude. possibly hangout with him. and who knows, maybe even score a kiss or two. you've always liked the boy ever since you met him. remembering the way you guys became quick friends after he accidentally hit you with the door that he was walking out of. Jude refused to leave your side, 'in case something happens', is what he kept saying.

"livie, have you seen jude?" you yell over the loud music. your best friend shakes her head.

"no, i haven't. i did hear that he's looking for you too!" your heart skipped a beat.

"i'll just continue my search for him. if you see him before I do, let him know that I'm looking for him please."

"sure thing babes," olivia squeezes your shoulder and nods. you place your hand on hers, giving a light squeeze back before making your way around the house again. this time heading towards the kitchen area.

-

moving through bodies started to become exhausting. jude was starting to give up. the boy can't remember how many people he's ran to anymore, but he knew that it wasn't the person he wanted to see. heading to the kitchen with his head down, he bumps into another body.

"sorry," jude mutters, still not looking up from the ground.

"we've gotta stop meeting like this." the boy's head perks up, hearing the familiar voice. the one person he's wanted to be alone with the entire night.

"sorry y/n. i didn't see you there."

"yeah, too busy looking at the ground. heard you were looking for me though," you smiled brightly at the boy.

"can i show you something?" jude blurred out before he could think twice. the night had been long enough, and this conversation was long over due.

"lead the way, golden boy."

jude grabs your hand, leading upstairs. vini had sectioned that part of the house off. the music becoming slightly muffed. it was perfect and away from the crowd.

"what's going on jude?" you asked, as he stopped in front of a door. you gazed at him with confusion in your eyes.

"y/n, i don't regret hitting you with that door when we first met."

"hey! that's rude," you jokingly pushed his shoulder.

"what i mean is that i'm grateful to have you in my life. you're the best person to be around and i want to soak up every moment with you, just to bottle in it a jar and keep it forever. there aren't enough words to describe how you make me feel," jude grabs both of your hands and holds them gently in his.

"what i'm about to say may ruin our friendship. but i must put it out there. i really like you." you giggled and squeezed his hands softly.

"i really like you too. i'm so glad you said that!"

"no y/n, i like you. as in like like you."

"jude are we in middle school? i really like you too is what i'm trying to tell you!"

"ohh."

"yeah, ohh," you playfully mocked him, still sporting a small smile. jude begins to smile and looks towards to the celling. you follow his eyes. finding mistletoe hanging on the doorway.

"did you plan this?"

"maybe. do you like it?"

"it's corny." jude becomes bashful and looks down. almost pulling his hands from yours, before you tighten the grip you had on his.

"that doesn't mean i don't like it. i think you're very sweet and romantic. confessing your feelings for me under the mistletoe."

"can i kiss you?"

"i've only been waiting for a couple of months now," you grin up at him. the boy matches your grin, pulling you into a kiss. certainly, this was long overdue, but it was completely worth the wait.

[coco-loco-nut]

In My Mind

pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

summary: david beckham’s daughter meets her soulmate

a/n: this is so long, i should’ve split it into two, lmk if you want a part two not edited

requests open masterlist second part

———————

You knew of Carlos Sainz just as he knew of you. You were the triple threat daughter of the Beckhams, basically British royalty, you can sing, play football, and model. You weren’t quite sure how you ended up on a pitch in Monoco playing against F1 drivers, but when your father called, you showed up to fill a vacancy.

“I’m rusty Dad, heels aren’t the same as boots,” you wear a pair from one of your dad’s old Adidas lines. Modeling isn’t quite the same as playing football, but it is for charity.

“You’ll be fine, it’s the same as playing with me and your uncles growing up,” he reassures you. You are just happy that there are enough celebrities here that the focus isn’t on you two. You look like a female version of him when he was 23, you just lack the amount of talent he has. You are good, but not superstar good.

“Sir, it is an honor to play against you, I remember watching you play for Real Madrid growing up,” a Spanish man approaches the two of you. His voice is familiar to the one in your mind, but you brush it off.

“Thank you, Carlos Sainz, right?” your dad asks. “This is my daughter, Y/n Beckham,” he introduces you and walks away to talk with the teams honorary coach, winking at you.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you shake his hand. You keep up with the sport and you know there is a six year age gap between the two of you, but you can’t help but to admire the handsome Spaniard. A small part of you hopes it’s your soulmate, so you open up the usually closed channel in your mind.

Hey, any chance that you are 29?

I am, cariño, why do you ask? I’m surprised you are talking right now.

I’m just curious

As the two of you unknowingly chat in your mind, you don’t realize that you both aren’t talking to each other aloud.

“I should go, it was nice meeting you,” you smile and wave goodbye. Carlos is utterly smitten, a small part of him hopes that it’s you who occasionally talks in his mind, your voice sounds similar. The game starts at you show that you are a mini-me of your dad, getting physical on the pitch.

Ah! Fucker, fucking hell, that peice of shit, what a wanker.

Language, Amor! Are you ok?

I just got stabbed in the foot

High heels again?

Football boot. This is why I don’t play anymore

You huff as your soulmates laughter fills your brain. You get a break off of a pass from your dad, you line up and take the shot, watching it soar into the net. You jump up and celebrate, your Dad picking you up in the air.

It’s a coincidence, I am playing Football

Anything interesting happening?

I just watched David Beckham’s daughter score a beautiful goal

What?

You whip around and lock eyes with Carlos, both of you realizing at the same moment.

Nice goal, cariño. You should teach my teammate how to play

It’s all in the Beckham genes, Mr Sainz. Let’s talk more after the game, I’m going to enjoy wiping the pitch with your team.

Carlos’ heart can’t help but soar at the playful grin you shoot him as he stands in front of you, waiting for the ball to be kicked in order for play to be resumed after your goal. He does whatever he can to be close to you, brush against you, even if it means contesting you for the ball.

“If you get me with your boot, I will cut you off,” you hiss at him, shoving him away from you, ignoring the comforting warmth and sparks.

“Don’t say that, mi amor. I love your competitive spirit,” he smiles as he tries to get a foot on the ball. He words work to distract you for a quick second as Charles Leclerc steals the ball from you. Your dad and you are hot on his tail.

“It has been the Beckham show out here, and I don’t expect anything less. A beautiful goal already from Y/n, the second oldest of David and Victoria’s children. That was quite unexpected, seeing as how she chose to pursue modeling over football,” one commentator says.

“Yes, well David brought her in to fill the last minute opening, I believe he said that she was always playing with him growing up and it does show. It seems like the Formula One team has noticed that skill and put Carlos Sainz on her. Poor guy is too afraid to be aggressive,” the other commentator replies.

“Careful with the shoving, you’ll earn a yellow,” David warns his daughter, knowing she is hard to bring back down once she is in the game, something she got from him. At half, you happily talk strategy and game with your dad, a part of you wondering why you ever quit.

“I found my soulmate,” you disclose to him while no one else is paying attention. No one is a bigger fan of soulmates than David Beckham, so to say he was excited would be an understatement.

“Who is it?” he asks excitedly but also ready to beat someone up.

“Carlos,” you subtly glance at the driver, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m happy for you, but he better watch out on the pitch,” David says, and he does play a little rougher around Carlos, seeing how he reacts. By the end of the match, your dad and you shut out the drivers 5-0, the two of you accounting for 4 of those goals.

Your dinner with Carlos is lovely, spending a quiet evening getting better acquainted. Afterwards, you met his friends in the hotel bar for a few drinks. George Russel became a quick friend, you knowing him from his fashion, and many of the guys knowing you because of your dad.

“Come visit me in England after this, before the next race,” you kiss him in the car. You already had your flight booked to return home the day after the match, not expecting to want to stay longer.

“I will miss you, Mi Amor, keep your mind open,” he hugs you tight. You step out of the car and onto your families private jet. As you fly, you get text messages from a group chat you were added to, Lando and Charles sending you different photos of Carlos, some silly and some thirst traps.

By the time you land and get to your family home you are exhausted. You are tired enough to collapse on the couch.

“You smoked dad out there,” Romeo high fives you.

“I’m also 50,” your dad huffs, sitting down.

“We could beat you five on one,” Brooklyn says, back home for the month.

“Oh yeah? Let’s go to the pitch, right now,” your dad stands up, “I get Harper and your mom to help even it out a little,” he claimed the youngest of you all.

“Come on, Y/n!” Cruz pulls you up as you groan.

“No, I’m too sore,”

“From the match or from Carlos?” your dad teases as your face flushes. Your brothers stop and turn to you.

“Carlos?” Romeo looks ready to fight.

“My soulmate,” you say sheepishly.

“That’s great! When can we meet him?” Your mom asks and you give her a one moment look. They talk amongst themselves as you converse in your mind.

Carlos? Have you given any thought to coming here after the race

I have, I’ll leave for you right after my post-race media duties. Is it weird that I miss you already?

No, I miss you too. Your friends sending all these pictures of you doesn’t help.

What are you doing right now?

My brothers challenged my dad to a match in the backyard pitch, my brothers know your first name by the way. What are you doing?

Stretching after free practice one and two before going back to the hotel, Charles is yelling at me to put a shirt on

“Y/n! Let’s go,” Brooklyn snaps you out of your mind as you giggle with a blush.

“Okay! Coming!”

Have fun with that, Carlitos. I gotta go.

I’ll talk to you later.

You and your brothers destroy your parents and younger sister, although you think your dad went easy on you. You head to bed after a small dinner.

Smooth Operatoooorrr Smooooooooth Operatoooooor

Carlos? What the hell? You’ve been signing that for the past half hour. I can’t block it out anymore.

Ay! Mi amor! You scared me!

Carlos, love, I would like to go to sleep.

Sorry, amor. I take it you won’t be asking me to sing you to sleep anytime soon?

Not what I said, Carlitos. Goodnight.

Goodnight, amor. Sleep well.

You watch the race with your family, and pick Carlos up from the airport.

“Is there anything I should know?” he asks, excited yet nervous to spend the week with you.

“I hope you can bend it like Beckham, there is no way you won’t be getting out of going on the pitch with Romeo or Dad.

“I can bend you like Beckham,” Carlos flirts with you, you can’t help but to laugh.

“That was awful. Oh, one more thing, Mom and I have a shoot on Tuesday so you will be left alone for a bit,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of his hand in yours as your drive.

“You should let me drive, I am a professional driver after all,” Carlos rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“No, you just drove all weekend, plus you are my guest,” you look at him, his dark hair gently pushed back. It’s unreal how fast you are falling in love with your soulmate.

“Alright, but when you come to Spain, no complaining about me spoiling you,” Carlos locks eyes with you, a blush spreading across your face. It doesn’t take too long until you are pulling into the country estate, your brothers waiting outside for you. Carlos is quick to hop out and get the door for you.

“Brookie, Romeo, Cruz, meet my other half, Carlos. Carlitos, these are my brothers, Brooklyn, Romeo, and Cruz,” you introduce them, letting go of Carlos’ hand so he can shake your brothers’ hands.

“Come on, Mom has a small late night meal ready,” Brooklyn says, leading you to the informal dining area.

“Welcome to our home, Carlos. I hope that the boys haven’t given you too much trouble,” your mom greets him with a hug.

“He’s pretty,” Harper tells you and you can’t hold back your laugh. Despite your ten year age difference, you were still close to her due to spending a lot of time at home.

“He is, and I know your soulmate will be just as pretty,” you hug her. Carlos survives the meal and you show him to the guest room after comfortable conversation with the family after dinner.

“Goodnight, mi amor,” Carlos says softly, standing in the doorway, neither of you wanting to leave each other, but neither of you wanting to cross a boundary that may exist. The soulmate bond was dangerous like that, once you meet your soulmate, it’s hard to let them go, but the bond does strengthen as well, to the point where you can send mental images to each other and feel one another’s feelings.

“Goodnight, Carlitos,” you tilt your head up to softly kiss him. You walk a few rooms down the hall to your own room. Lying awake in bed, oddly restless, you decide to see if Carlos is awake.

Y/n, are you awake?

I am, I was just about to see if you were awake. Put on a hoodie or something and meet me in the hall

You throw on a hoodie and slippers, not bothering to change your pajama pants. Carlos is waiting outside his bedroom door for you. The two of you sneak out to the outdoor entertainment hut your dad made. You quickly make hot chocolate and snuggle on a couch, a blanket over your legs as you look at the stars.

“I don’t think I will be able to let you travel without me,” you sigh, your head resting on Carlos’ shoulder, his free arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Then come with me, I’ve seen how hard it is for soulmates to be apart, especially in F1. Think about it, you don’t have to decide now,” Carlos’ thumb rubs soothing circles on your side.

“Hmm, let’s see how the time between here and Spain goes,” you yawn, snuggling closer to him. His scent envelopes you, helping you drift into sleep. Carlos carefully takes the empty mug out of your hand and sets it down before pulling you closer. Your steady breathing lulls him to sleep, something you both could get used to.

[lucy90712]

Hey so for Jude Bellingham can you write like Jude cheating on reader, he is very distant with her and she tries to make plans or asks him things like how has ur day been but he either just gives her blunt replies or just completely ignores her. Reader finds out he cheated on her via his phone and she confronts him and she admits it. Then reader leaves him and moves on with someone else (not a footballer just someone random) and Jude regrets what he has done but it is too late. Like pure angst and please make it long! Thank you!

A/n: the timeline on this doesn’t really work but just ignore that

Part 2

Sitting in a restaurant alone waiting for someone to show up is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when people know who your boyfriend is and are very clearly judging you and thinking about what might be going on in your personal life. Then the most embarrassing part of it all is having to leave after sitting there for an hour. 

No text no call and no answer. After getting home from the restaurant I stayed up for as long as possible to try and wait for Jude to come home so I could ask him why he didn't show up to the date he planned and invited me on but by 3am he still wasn't home. The next morning he wasn't in bed but he had clearly been home and then left for training but he still hadn't even read the texts I sent him last night. He did post on his Instagram story which explained where he was, he was at a party with all of his friends. I'd love to say that's the first time he's done this but it isn't in fact he's done it countless times in the last few months. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Valentine's Day

Two hours ago I got ready in a cute dress and did my makeup ready to go out to dinner with Jude. He's been so busy recently so we haven't spent much time together but he promised me we'd spend Valentine's Day together, he got us a reservation at my favourite restaurant and told me to dress up. That's exactly what I did now I'm sat here still waiting for him to get home two hours after when he said he'd be home. 

It hurts to be left just waiting I was looking forward to tonight and getting to spend some time together as I've missed having him around. He made this move to Madrid out to be the best thing for us but ever since things just haven't been the same. He's always busy and when he's not he chooses to spend time with his teammates instead which I understand but at the same time he's neglecting me and our relationship. I tried to bring this up but he shut me down and promised to spend more time with me which is how we ended up with this date but clearly it's not that important to him. 

Close to 3 hours later Jude finally came home and looked at me incredibly confused when he saw me all dressed up. 

"Where are you going?" He asked 

"On a date with you remember you said we would go out for dinner because it's Valentine's Day" I said 

"I'm so sorry baby I completely forgot this week has been crazy I promise I'll make it up to you another day but I'm so tired is a movie night instead ok" he said 

"Yeah its ok" I lied 

Birthday 

As always I woke up to an empty bed and Jude having left for training. Today isn't any normal day though it's my birthday so all my friends are coming over and we are going to go out for lunch together then hopefully Jude and I can do something together this evening even if it's just watching something together on the sofa. When I grabbed my phone from my bedside table I had loads of messages from friends and family wishing me a happy birthday and my social media was filled with edits done by Jude's fans which were all so sweet. The only notable missing thing was a text from Jude but that's ok he might've been running late and forgot. 

I forgot about Jude as soon as my friends arrived as they all spoiled me far too much but I had so much fun with them. It was nice to be distracted from real life and stop worrying about when Jude will be home, if he will remember it's my birthday or if he still cares about me at all. Once I got back home Jude's car was already in the driveway so I smiled and happily made my way inside to see him. I wasn't expecting Vini and Eduardo to be over but there they were sat on the sofa playing video games with Jude. 

"Hey y/n happy birthday" Vini said 

"I didn't realise it was your birthday Jude didn't mention it but happy birthday" Eduardo said 

"Thanks guys" I said 

"Where have you been babe?" Jude asked still not saying happy birthday 

"I was with my friends they took me to lunch" I said 

"That sounds fun" Jude said going right back to his game 

His friends tried to leave saying he should spend time with me but he said it was fine and that I wouldn't mind so they stayed. While they all sat down stairs having more fun than I was I did some work with tears streaming down my face. My own boyfriend doesn't care about my birthday his teammates cared more than he did. 

Anniversary 

"Happy anniversary love" I said when I found Jude in the kitchen this morning 

"Happy anniversary" he said 

I tried to give him a kiss but he dodged it and went to start packing his things as he has an away game later today so he's leaving soon. 

"I'm sorry baby I've got to go I'll see you later though" he said as he left leaving me all alone yet again 

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is a day I always like to forget. Both of my parents died in a car accident two years ago today so it's always an emotional day for me and my siblings, we would like to spend it together to distract ourselves but as I'm in Madrid we can't do that. Instead my friends invited themselves over so that I'd have someone with me which made me feel so much better. They came over early so early that Jude was still here as he hadn't left for training yet. He was doing his own thing as the girls all sat with me and let me get out all my emotions now by telling them memories I have with my parents. 

"You know they'd be so proud of you" one of my friends said 

"I just wish they were here to see all the things me and my siblings have done all thanks to their constant encouragement" I sniffled tears still falling down my face 

"Why are you crying babe?" Jude asked as he walked down the stairs 

"Just thinking about my parents it's the anniversary of their death so I'm just a bit emotional" I said 

"I'm glad the girls are here to make you feel better then I'll see you later ok" he said 

With that he left and my friends all looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.

"How long has he been like that?" My best friend asked 

"Like what" I questioned 

"Like you don't matter he didn't even hug you before he left even after you told him why you were upset which he should know anyway dates like this are important for partners to remember" she said 

"I mean it's been a good few months he missed our Valentine's Day dinner he didn't wish me a happy birthday until like 5pm and we didn't do anything on our anniversary" I said finally thinking about how badly he's been treating me

"Girl he doesn't deserve you he's taking you for granted and you don't deserve that" one of the girls said 

"I hate to say this but you need to break up with him clearly he's given up on your relationship and now I might be wrong but wrong but it seems to me like he's found someone else" another said

They were right for months now I've been at the bottom of his priority list and he's nowhere near the Jude I used to know and love. There is no affection there anymore it's like the love we once had is gone. He also has definitely been distant and he's never home so there is a possibility that he could be cheating on me. That's a thought that I'd put in the back of my mind and didn't want to think about but now that someone else that has mentioned it I can't let the thought go. Whether he's cheating or not things definitely aren't how they used to be and I need to get out of this relationship before it's too late. The girls all offered their support and said I can stay with them for as long as I need which gave me the confidence to actually talk to Jude later today. 

When Jude arrived home all the girls left and they wished me good luck which I definitely need as I'm nervous to actually have this conversation even though it needs to be done. Jude went straight to get in the shower so I decided to look at his phone because he told me the password but I have never used it as I trusted him at least until now. It took just seconds of looking for me to find texts between him and this one girl who he had clearly been seeing for months now. He kept saying he would break up with me but the time wasn't right yet and that he wasn't in love with me anymore which hurt to see. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears and instead just sent myself screenshots of everything and then deleted the evidence so he wouldn't know that I knew. 

After his shower Jude took ages to come back downstairs but when he finally did he was looking at his phone and smiling it made me wonder if he was talking to her the girl he'd apparently fallen for. He quickly noticed me staring at him and he just stared back not having a clue what was going on. 

"Jude we need to talk" I said 

"Oh ok is everything alright?" He asked 

"I'm just gong to say it I know what you've been doing and don't lie to me I have screenshots I just want to know when you fell out of love and why you did this instead of just ending things" I said barely holding back tears 

"I don't know it all just happened I'm sorry I should've handled this better I didn't want to hurt you but clearly I haven't done a good job of that" he said 

"Yeah you really have hurt me I should've known when you forgot about our valentines reservations but I was foolish and believed that you were just busy now I know you were with another girl" I said 

"I'm sorry" he said 

"I don't believe you Jude if you were sorry you wouldn't have let this go on for so long it's safe to say we are over I wish you well but please don't try and contact me again I need to just move on" I said 

With that I gathered my things and just left. I left my key, the memories and what felt like half my heart but it had to be done I had to get out of there before I got hurt any more. It's time to move on and start a new life with people around me who truly care about me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later 

"Come on amor let's go" Carlos called from downstairs 

"Coming" I said running down the stairs 

"Oh wow you look gorgeous" Carlos said 

"Thank you you look good too" I said 

He kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand so we could head out to the car that was outside to pick us up. Just a few days ago Carlos won the French open so we are going out to celebrate. I met Carlos not long after I broke up with Jude I wasn't even looking to date but I just happened to meet him on a night out with my friends and we just clicked. He understood that I wasn't ready to date properly but he didn't give up on me so when I was ready we went on a date and the rest is history. My plan definitely wasn't to date another athlete in fact I wanted to just have a normal life and date a normal guy but I couldn't just let Carlos go and I'm glad I didn't. We have been together officially for 6 months now and they have been the best 6 months of my life he always treats me right and he makes it known how much he loves me. 

Carlos has a lot of friends in Madrid so he decided to come here and celebrate his win with me and my friends as well as his before he goes back home to be with his family. There wasn't really any time to prepare anything so we are all just meeting at a club in town that isn't just open to the public so there shouldn't be lots of people there. All our friends were already there when we arrived as we got caught in a bit of traffic but they didn't seem to mind our lateness they congratulated Carlos on his win and we all went inside. 

As we walked down the stairs all my friends turned to me at once and I wondered what was going on for a second until I saw what they had seen. Jude was right there along with a few of his teammates. I haven't seen him since our breakup which is somewhat of a miracle seeing as I still live and work in Madrid and he has become part of the city. I knew one day we'd meet again I was just hoping it wouldn't be in a day like today I don't want to be thinking about him or to talk to him while celebrating Carlos as tonight shouldn't be about me or my past relationship. Carlos knows everything that happened so once he saw Jude his hand reached for mine and he gave it a comforting squeeze which made me feel a little bit better. The thing is I don't miss Jude at all I'm so much happier now but what he did still hurts me so seeing him for the first time since is a bit painful. 

"We can go somewhere else if you want" Carlos said 

"No it's ok tonight is your night plus he shouldn't affect my life now that's the past you are my present and future" I said 

"Ok as long as you're sure but you are sticking by my side all night" he said 

Jude's POV

"Is that y/n?" Vini asked 

Him saying that caught my attention so I looked in the same direction as him and there she was with all her friends and a guy by her side. I recognised the guy as Carlos Alcaraz the tennis player who just won the French open and a the guy y/n has been dating for at least the last few months. I found that out when late at night after we lost a big game I stalked her Instagram and saw a photo of them together on her private account that she forgot to remove me from. Since that night I have kept an eye on her Instagram I usually check it at least once a week to see what she's been doing and how happy she is without me. 

Since the night that she broke up with me I regretted making all the dumb choices I made that led to that point. Within days I broke things off with the other girl I was seeing and I have been alone ever since I just can't bring myself to see anyone else because they aren't y/n. It sounds stupid because I'm the one that ruined everything I'm the reason she's with Carlos and not me but she was the one I just didn't realise how much I loved her until she was gone. My mum has always told me not to take things for granted as once they are gone you'll realise their true value and that's exactly what I did with y/n I didn't realise just how important she was to me until I made some stupid decisions and let her go. 

I watched her with Carlos for a while and she seemed genuinely happy which made me realise that she hadn't been that happy with me for a long while before we broke up. It was clear to see that she loved him and I could tell that he loved her too because he looked at her the way I did when we first got together. It hurt to see her so happy with someone else because I know I could've had that but now I won't get to share any moment like that with her ever again. I deserve everything that has come to me I made bad choices and as much as I regret them now it won't change anything. 

I have to let her go because for her to be happy I need to not be in her life as much as that hurts. They say if you love her let her go and that's what I need to do let the one go because as much as she might've been the one for me I'm not the one for her. 

[holyblonded]

consequences of my actions | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and kenza have to deal with the repercussions of the night before

warnings: none(?)

notes: italics are spanish or Catalan; sorry for the wait i needed a break after the results of the election (we are cooked!) 😍

THE FEELING ON THE SUN AND THE SOFT HUM OF WHATEVER JULIO IGLESIAS SONG WAS CURRENTLY PLAYING, WOKE PAIGE UP FROM HER PEACEFUL SLUMBER.

Paige could tell she was in Kenza's apartment as the distinct aroma of coco butter and lavender circulated the room. The blonde's feet touched the cold floor and she was greeted by the few month old Cane Corso puppy that she and Kenza rescued from a frat house. Paige picked up Draco and carried him to the living area where Kenza was making breakfast. Setting the dog down to eat, Paige snuck up and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

"You always wake up so early," Paige complained as she glimpsed at the clock that read 7:24am. "Even on your off days."

Kenza smiled and she transferred the seasoned scrambled eggs to the plate and moved on to cook the salmon. "You know I need my early morning run."

Paige did know that, as it was a habit the girl picked up from her Mami. Kenza and Diana wake up bright and early at 5am to go for a daily run. Whenever her Diana held basketball camps, the same ones Paige attended, the camp would go on the run and it's safe to say Paige is not a morning person. Paige also knew she kept these runs up in Barcelona when she would send her morning pictures of her running to a cafe to get a drink.

Shaking her head at the thought, Paige kissed Kenza's cheek before going to the record player and changing the vinyl to The Supremes. Kenza laughed when Paige danced her was back to island where Kenza set their food down.

Paige grabbed Kenza's hand and pulled the girl to her before anchoring her free hand on the brunette's waist. The pair danced to Someday We'll Be Together. As Paige looked down at Kenza laughing as they clumsily tripped over their feet many times

The two sat at Kenza's island eating area, the freshly cooked breakfast, and the sunlight that streamed through the blinds and onto their skin. Paige's eyes seemed to unintentionally pierce through Kenza's soul while admiring her.

"Paige, you're gonna piss me all the way off if you keep staring at me,” Kenza said in such a sweet tone, "Wack ass blue eyes."

Paige couldn't help but laugh at the out of pocket comment before standing up and taking their plates to the sink. "I hear you, Kenny but we gotta go to the vet remember."

IMESSAGE

real madrid haters 🦅

pro yapper (jaheem)

gavi lover (leo)

mind witch (erykah)

evil twin (gavi)

lioness

KENZ

DID YOU SEE TSR

evil twin

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SEND IT

pro yapper

aye kenza you gotta get your

lick back and punch that nigga

evil twin

i’m with jaheem

mind witch

NOT THE CURRENT

CONCERN

lioness

ONG

EVERYONE THINKS

YOU AND PAIGE ARE DATING

.... are you 👀

pro yapper

wait a cotton picking minute

they weren't dating all this time?

lioness

...why are you even the gc 🫥

KENZ RESPOND

pro yapper

y'all know she ain't gonna

respond

she's at the vet rn

check her lo

mind witch

WHY DIDNT YOU SAY

THAT EARLIER

pro yapper

alr y'all gonna piss me off

Kenza sighed as she was on the phone with her manager that was rapidly speaking Catalan. Kenza toyed with a magazine at the vet's office, waiting for Draco.

"Caterina, please calm down. You're in town at the office, right? I'll swing by after the vet appointment and we can get it all sorted out, mkay?" Kenza responded in Catalan and decided not to give the older woman a chance to respond. "Great! Bye, love you." Kenza hung up and threw her head back with a groan, running her hands across her face. She glanced at her phone, seeing the Barcelona group chat blow up, likely teasing the baby of the group about the situation. Kenza looked across the room where Paige stood, seemingly dealing with the same situation with her manager.

"Draco has officially gotten his five month shots," the vet announced to Paige and Kenza. With Paige still on the phone, Kenza got up to grab Draco who was seemingly excited as he got a new toy.

"Draco! Were you a good boy?" Kenza crouched down to pet the overly energetic dog as he basically tried to climb her.

"Just make sure to schedule his next appointment," the vet told Paige, who just got off the phone and was standing behind Kenza and Draco.

The pair thanked the vet and strolled to the Kenza's Porsche Cayenne in the parking garage. Paige opened the door for Kenza before putting Draco in her lap.

"My manager and your manager want to meet together," Paige told the girl as she started the car. Paige always drove when it was just her and Kenza. Mostly because Paige was afraid of the way Kenza drove, but also for safety purposes.

Kenza groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day, "Who even recorded that video? This is dumb."

"You come to America to further your education. Yet somehow, you get into more trouble here than Barcelona!" Caterina scolded Kenza like a toddler who drew on the walls. Caterina has been Kenza's manager since she started at La Masia and started to see Kenza as her first born after a while. That being said, whenever Kenza made poor decisions, she got a lecture not only from Alexia but Caterina too. "Nena, do you need another media training course? Because you might be asking for it at this point!"

Kenza stayed silent ask Paige and her manager walked in, making Caterina take a seat, "After this, you will call Alexia and explain to her."

Kenza's head shot up to look her manager in the eye for the first time since she got there. "Cat, no."

"Paige, Kenza, while the situation that occurred isn't a big deal when you look at it, the media has made it one. But, we have found a way to turn this into positive press." Caterina started, crossing her legs, "Both fanbases seem to like you together and we are going to profit on that. In order to outweigh the negativity of the situation, the two of you are going to fake date."

[rwshfordgirl]

time to meet your parents.

paring: jude bellingham × reader summary: jude wants to meet reader parents. a/n: i apologize for any spelling mistakes that may appear :) i hope you like it!

when i was younger and i thought about the day would have to introduce my boyfriend to my dad, i would almost cry. just imagining it would make me panic.

my father is the kind of father who tells his daughter something like "you'll only date when you're 30." and i took that seriously. i avoided having male friends as much as possible. i didn't want my father to see me around any boys. i remember my mother saying that this was the biggest nonsense ever, but i don't know, i was afraid my father would fight with me.

as I got older, i started to agree with my mother. i had my first kiss at 16 and currently at 20, i have kissed a total of 4 mouths and lucky for my father it is difficult to find a man who is good enough to be introduced to the parents these days.

but i found one three months ago, he hit my car when i was coming back from college. the most handsome real madrid player in my opinion, jude bellingham.

but he caught me off guard this week, he said to me loud and clear "i want to meet your parents". i, who was lying with my head on his chest, stood up abruptly and looked at him. 

everything my father told me about boyfriends went through my head, i'm 10 years away from turning 30. but if i want my relationship with bellingham to reach a more serious level, i have to introduce him to my parents, right? and while i've met almost all of his family, he's never even seen a single one of my relatives.

i told him he could come to my house on saturday to have dinner with me and my parents, he accepted. now all i had to do was talk to my parents.

i went home rehearsing everything i was going to say and when i got home and they were having dinner, a great time to tell them the news. 

"my love, i was about to call you to find out where you were." my mother said as soon as she saw me. "i forgot to tell you that i would be staying late at college." at least i wouldn't have to lie to them anymore about staying late at college, aka bellingham house.

i sat at the table with them, not hungry at all. my dad noticed that i was acting weird. "are you okay?" he asked. "yeah, yeah.. i just wanted to tell you something!" they stopped everything they were doing to look at me. "go ahead and talk." my mom said.

here we go. "remember when someone hit my car?" they nodded. "so, the boy who hit the car and i ended up getting pretty close. and i really wanted you guys to meet him, since things could get serious between us."

ny mother's eyes were wide and she had a smile on her face. "i can't believe it! i'm so happy, my love! how is this meeting going to be? tell him to come to dinner with us on saturday." my mother was excited. "i told him that, but i wanted you to confirm it." i said. "It's more than confirmed."

"i can't believe my baby has grown up, i want to meet him now!" my father left me speechless and even gave me a kiss on the top of my head to leave me even more shocked.  my mother winked at me.

easier than i expected it to be, now just wait until saturday.

                                 ...

bellingham is already here. he arrived earlier than i expected, the city traffic is apparently conspiring in our favor. but i was in the shower when he arrived, and my mother was the one who greeted him.

"dear, i seem to have felt that jude was english." my mother said as soon as she saw me coming down the stairs. "has jude introduced himself to you yet, mom?" i hugged the player from behind and he held my hands "of course, you took too long! your mother and i are friends now."

"if my wife approves of you, i approve of you too." my father arrived in the living room after going to the market. "hey man, how are you?" he said as he greeted bellingham. "good and you?" jude replied, "i'm glad to meet you. i just want to confirm if your name is really college?" i almost died of embarrassment. my father already suspected my lie. "i can't believe it, she said she was going to college? but unfortunately, my name is jude, not college." bellingham is a sly man. he knew very well what i was telling my parents when I was going to meet him. "oh, you're a real madrid player, aren't you? i'm only  used to the third division of the Spanish league." my father said "i'm going to have to bring you to the side of the biggest team in spain, so i'm sure that when you go to the bernabeu you'll change teams." jude joked "never." my father replied.

dinner went well, my parents loved jude and jude loved my parents. my mother wants him to come here all the time, she even asked if he wanted to sleep here tonight, bellingham didn't accept just because he had to go to training early tomorrow. he was all happy when my dad said he was the son-in-law of his dreams and my mom said he looked like the son she always wanted to have.

i'm going to skip the dating part and just marry him right away, i love him and so do my parents, i don't know what I'm waiting for. 

[romanticinlove]

You belong to me - JB Angst

Summary: Even after you and Jude break up, neither one of you can seem to move on

A/n: This is super toxic I cannot lie 😭

_____________________________

It had been two months since you and Jude ended things. The split was mutual. You both weren't in a good space to be together. The constant fighting and the insecurities from both parties became too much to handle. At first it seemed like a good idea. You thought that with some distance between the two of you, you would get over him in no time. The only problem was that you couldn't seem to get that distance. You had hooked up 11 times since the break up and even when you wanted to end things, you couldn't. You missed him too much. You two tried to give the relationship another chance after the second meet up, but you both quickly remembered why you ended things. In fact, that's how every one of your meet ups went. You both missed each other, one of you called the other, you would meet up, sleep with each other, then a fight would quickly arise. Then one of you would leave abruptly and the cycle repeated itself.

You knew that this was not healthy. The first few times, your friends tried to give you advice and when you went to take it, all your walls dropped. When you were with him, you felt comfortable. But you couldn't go on like this. When Jude came over to your house that night, It ended in another fight and Jude stormed out of your apartment and you sat in bed angrily. You cried yourself to sleep again that night, as you had a lot recently. the next morning when you woke up, you remembered what had happened and you decided that enough was enough. You pulled out your phone and began to text the young footballer.

You: Jude

You: We can't keep doing this, we have to be done

Jude: but I miss you, can I please come over tonight??

you: no, we have to end things. I’m sorry

You decide to then block his number because you knew he would try to continue to convince you. You felt relief when you sent the final text message. You were ready to start a new chapter of your life. a new one without Jude. In fact you were so excited that you texted your girls about it. They all congratulated you and gave you a quick fix

friend 1: y/n I actually have the perfect solution to keep you away from Jude. I have this friend who would be perfect for you! You should both set something up.

You went for it and got his number. Over the course of the next few days, you and James were both texting back and forth, getting to know one another. You found yourself smiling at your phone a lot more and thinking about Jude less and less. You both set up a date pretty soon after your friend introduced the two of you. you were excited when you met him in person. He took you out to a nice restaurant and you were both chatting away. You were paying attention to him, and you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. He was sweet, but honestly, you could not see yourself being with him. Your friend had set you up with one of her cousins, who was not at all perfect for you. You decided to stick around tho and give him a chance. Maybe you could develop feelings. You had almost forgotten about Jude. Almost.

if it hadn't been for that stupid team dinner. That same night that James took you to a very fancy and exclusive restaurant, some of the Real Madrid players, including Jude had also decided to spend their evening in the same place. You saw him first and it was like you became a different person. You were no longer paying attention to James and could only think about Jude.

What was he doing there? Did he see you? What would you do if he saw you? You wanted him to see you. You wanted him to see that you were on a date with someone else, that were could get over him. or maybe you couldn't and you wanted him to come to you and take you away.

"Y/n, is everything alright? You seem upset" James said across from you. You looked at his eyes and you felt horrible. You needed to forget Jude.

"yes, I am so sorry. I just have to use the restroom, I will be right back." You apologized as you got up from your seat. when you got into the bathroom, you washed your hands and flicked a little bit of water on your face. You needed to stop freaking out about Jude. Just as you left the bathroom, you saw the 6'1 man standing outside.

"Who is that?" Jude asked you wasting no time.

"It shouldn't matter to you" You said back "I have to get back to my date, excuse me"

"I don't think so, I think I deserve some time of explanation" Jude tried to tell you as he blocked the exit from the hall that led back to the restaurant.

"I owe you nothing, we are completely over, please don't do this" You told him, trying to get past again. He got in front of you put his hand on your face.

"c'mon y/n, you don't miss me at all?" Jude questioned as he looked at you. "I know you do. If that guy is my replacement, then I have nothing to worry about"

You shook you head and finally started walking back to the table where James was sitting.

"Just call me when the dates over" Jude told you as you left him alone. As you walked back

"I'm back, what were you saying just before I left?" You asked while smiling at him. You owed it to him to at least finish the date.

The rest of the night went fine but you couldn't focus on your date. When you arrived at your apartment. You thought about what Jude said. You pulled out your phone and saw a message from James.

James: I had such a nice time tonight, I would love to go on a second date.

You stared at the message for a little bit but slid out of your conversation with James. There should be no reason why you shouldn’t go on another day with him. But the feelings just weren’t there. When you got to your room you looked at your phone again, but this time with a different purpose.

“I was waiting for your call” Jude said on the other end. This was a bad idea, and you knew it too. But that didn’t stop you from inviting him over. He would get there in 15 minutes. You contemplated your decision but when you heard a knock at the door you smiled and went to open it. Maybe this time would be different. ——————————————————————

[pedrithink]

delicate ✩ jude bellingham

about: the massive hate you are getting on internet and the way jude stood by you, supporting you.

couple: jude bellingham x reader! singer

request: hey babyyyy! what do u think about a jude x reader (maybe olivia rodrigo fc) ?? xxx love u

face claim: olivia rodrigo

NOW: Jude’s Bellingham talks ‘Real Madrid’, His first World Cup’s impressions & His favorite Y/N’s songs.

comments ⬇️

user1 he’s so perfect 🥹 yn and him seemed like soulmates

user2 I REMEMBERED WHEN YN POINTED AT JUDE DURING GORGEOUS AND HE TOOK A PHOTO AND SHE WAS ALL GIGGLY

user3 yn once said “you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts” and “they say home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives. you know I love a london boy.”

user4 @user3 im yn

user5 imagine being jude bellingham and having yn write her best love songs and best title tracks about you a DREAM

judebellingham has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, selenagomez, and 5.682.972 others

ynusername vampire song and video out now 🧛🏼. writing this song helped me sort through lots of feelings of regret, anger, and heartache. it's one of my favorite songs on the album and it felt very cathartic to finish. im so happy it's in your hands now and I hope it helps u deal with any bloodsuckers in your lite. all my thanks 4ever 🫶🏻

View all 21.567 comments

judebellingham proud of you, vampie 🧛🏼🩸🥹🫶🏻

ynusername @judebellingham love u babs

user1 vampire is one of the best songs ever

user2 another song about another ex 🥱🙄

user3 @user2 literally let people write out their feelings or WHATEVER they want. obviously yall can only attack women for this tho...

user4 people calling yn boring or overrated for writing songs about her ex does not sit right w me …. like let her write about whatever she wants?? she’s 20??? all singers have songs about their ex’s???? stfu

user5 @user4 SPEAK. ON. IT

user6 "yn makes too much songs ab her ex" "all she write is break up songs, she’s so obsessed"

ok then stop listening to her songs 🤷🏻‍♀️

user7 whaaaaat 😭 why are there so many people mad that yn wrote some songs about her ex. meanwhile, there are men who only write songs about fucking hoes and using drugs and yet they still get praised for it 🥱

judebellingham

Liked by ynusername, masonmount, and 7.899.082 others

judebellingham date night with vampie to celebrate all of her achievements, proud of u ❤️‍🩹

View all 34.872 comments

ynusername 🧛🏻‍♀️🩸❤️‍🩹🧛🏼

user8 JUDE CALLING YN VAMPIE >>>>

user9 i hope i find someone who supports me the way jude supports yn

user10 ill always be soft for these two. its amazing how jude supports yn in any way he can and yn never forgets to save jude a seat. fucking POWER COUPLE!!!

user11 @user10 i just love them

user12 lets talk about the fact that at the 2020 grammys she didn’t feel like there was someone to celebrate with and now she has one and he helps her and supports her and take her on dates when she achieves more and more in her singing career 🥹

user13 yn and jude be like: happiest relationship of my life, so let’s go cheer for my breakup songs together 💕💞💓💗💖💘

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, arianagrande, and 10.927.526 others

ynusername delicate is out now 🫧 surprise song for y’all, hope u like it 🫶🏻

View all 101.872 comments

user14 delicate video really speaks to me. yn let go of the world's expectations of how she should act, smile and behave. once she did that, she was able to find who she was looking for. i’m shaking and crying, so so proud of our baby!!!!

user15 @user14 it’s already my favorite music video of her!!!! i love the lyrics 2

user16 these pics were taking by jude i’m CRYING and the lyrics… I JUST LOVE HIM EVEN MORE

user17 @user16 yeah 🥹 i’m so happy that she found someone that makes her feel like that

user18 delicate is one of the most beautiful songs yn has ever written, it’s so GENUINE.

[pitchsidestories]

anxiety II Cata Coll x reader

masterlist I word count: 2081

summary: cata helps you through your anxiety attack right before your first El Clásico game for Barcelona. Inspired by this sweet request here.

Your heart beat way too fast in your chest. You could feel it.

There was not enough air in your lungs, no matter how often you breathed in and out.

It was suffocating. Too tight.

Your thoughts were racing too, still you couldn’t catch a single one of them.

Catas voice floated over to you. She sounded muffled, far away even though she stood right beside you.

“Amor? It’s time to get on the bus…“, she said gently.

You caught yourself, focusing your gaze on her: “Oh uhm… right.“

She took your hand into hers, pulling you with her onto the team bus: “Come on. Jonatan doesn’t like to wait.“

You let yourself drop onto the seat next to Cata.

All around you, your teammates were talking. Excitement dripping from their conversations, causing the bus to vibrate with anticipation.

Only you remained quiet during the drive. You had a hard time keeping up a conversation when you were as overcome by anxiety as you were now.

And in your opinion, you had every right to feel anxious.

This was your very first season at Barcelona since you joined from a much smaller club and this was also your first El Clásico. You knew how much significance this game held for everyone involved. And this time, it would be played in the famous Camp Nou.

All of this should feel like a dream to any football player but to you, this felt like an absolute nightmare.

As the bus neared the stadium, the crowds of fans in Barcelona and Real Madrid jerseys became larger and larger. You watched dumbfounded from your seat. This was something that you had never seen before, especially not at your former club.

You felt the panic creeping up your spine once more.

“Wow… so many people. Are they all coming to our game?“, you asked, your voice shaking slightly. Secretly, you hoped that someone would say no.

Instead, Ona almost stood on her seat without tearing her gaze from the sea of fans: “It’s amazing, right?“

“I heard it might be sold out.“, Alexia offered more information with twinkling eyes.

You swallowed hard: “Wait, really?“

“Yes.“

“Holy shit.“, was all you could offer. Why couldn’t you be as excited to see so many people? Why was it so easy for everyone else to enjoy this game?“

Mariona smiled at you: “This will be great.“

“Probably.“, you mumbled quietly.

You focused on your breathing until you finally arrived at the stadium. You jumped out of the bus with everyone else, dropped your bag on a bench at the dressing room and disappeared in the restrooms. You didn’t even have the time to appreciate the luxury of this stadium.

You also didn’t care much about that when you knelt on the tiled floor, dry heaving into the toilet bowl.

“Amor?”, your girlfriend called for you in a worried tone, you haven’t heard her coming in until she started speaking.

“Yes?”, you mumbled as you rested your head on the cold ground.

“Everything okay?”, the goalkeeper asked audibly concerned.

“No, I can’t go out there and play.”, you replied quietly.

“Of course you can.”, she stated while letting herself in before wrapping her strong arms around your smaller frame.

“This is too big for me, Cata. I’m used to small, small island, small club, this might be a mistake.”, you listed nervously.

“A mistake? Y/n, Barca signed you because they wanted you. They know what you’re capable of. And we saw that in training too.”, Cata reminded you.

“But this isn’t training, what if I fail the team, the fans, you.”, you bit your lip, sharing your darkest thoughts with her.

Empathetically the fellow player strokes your back gently:

“You won’t fail.”, the brunette declared reassuringly.

“Cata, you can’t know that.”, you shook your head slowly.

“Yes, I can. I know you.”, your girlfriend replied sincerely.

“Do you think so?”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, remember when we fell of the boat during high waves and you stayed calmer than me?”, Cata began.

“Of course, I could never forget that we were teens back then.”, you nodded.

Back then you have taken a boat from your older brother to enjoy a day on the sea, far away from the tourists who flooded Mallorca each summer. It’s been the summer where your friendship blossomed into a romantic relationship.

But the weather was something you both underestimated, the suddenly harsh weather hit you by surprise, the two of you were landing in the water. Your normally relaxed girlfriend was panicking, despite your anxiousness you stayed calm in the moment bringing you save to the sandy beach.

“Yeah, but this isn’t much different from that.”, the words of the goalkeeper made you return to the present.

“It’s not the sea.”, you corrected her.

“Maybe it’s not the same situation. But the solution is the same. Everything will come to you if you remain calm.”, Cata reassured you.

“I feel a bit better now.”, you admitted, getting up from the floor with her helping hands to lead you back into the changing room.

“Do you want a hug now or not?”, she questioned smiling.

“I could need a special Cata hug to be honest.”, you confessed.

“Here you go.”, the goalkeeper hugged you grinning.

For a moment you closed your eyes, your girlfriends embrace was so comforting to you. 

“Thank you.“, you whispered against her shoulder.

You suddenly felt a weight on your back and you found yourself sandwiches between Cata and another person.

“Can we join the hug?“, Claudia asked as if her arms weren’t around you already.

Cata sighed with her eyebrows raised: “A group hug? Seriously?“

“Okay. No group hug. Maybe later.“, Claudia pouted playfully.

You knew she didn’t mind but still you felt bad denying your teammates a hug.

Apparently Cata could feel your hesitation so she winked at the younger player: “You will get one later, promise.“

Once Cata let go of you, you were able to keep your anxiety at bay as you went through the motions. You put on your shirt and your shoes, you had another sip of water and forced yourself to have a small snack before you went out for the warm-up.

There, you finally got a look at the inside of the stadium. Your stomach dropped at the sight of all these people and the stands were not even completely filled yet.

Your thoughts started spinning subconsciously again, catastrophizing. Images of yourself failing at the easiest tasks flooded your head. What if you disappointed your teammates? What would the fans think? Would Cata be embarrassed for you?

You tried to focus on your warm-up session as best as you could but the uneasiness never left you.

It got worse, the closer it got to kick-off. You stood in the tunnel next to Alexia, looking out at the crowd and tried to pull it together.

Your hands were sweaty and shaking. You should have went to pee again. Two times was definitely not enough.

“The nerves were getting to you, huh?“, Alexia said suddenly.

You looked over to her. It looked like you were hiding your current nervousness well enough right now.

“Yes.“, you replied flatly.

Your captain nodded slowly, never tearing her gaze away from the fans: “That’s normal. Camp Nou is a very special place.“

She almost sounded in love.

“It is.“, you agreed, biting your lip.

Finally, she turned to look at you. A gentle smile played on her lips. “You will see. It is almost magical.“

At any other time you would have loved to listen to her musings about Camp Nou but that was definitely not the case in this moment.

“Can’t wait…“, you said.

“And also…“, she continued.

“Yeah?“

“Cata will have your back the full ninety minutes. Literally.“, she smirked.

Cata agreed right behind you: “That’s right. Let’s go!“

You could feel her hand on yours, squeezing once for encouragement.

The two of you locked eyes and you gave her a small nod: “Okay, let’s go.“

The game was on, the atmosphere with the thousand of fans in the stadiums was exhilarating.  Your heartbeat matched the beating drums.

As a player though you didn’t find the time to take this side of the match in instead you tried to stay focused and much to your own surprise it worked. While playing against the Madrid players and with your team you felt the same calmness you had when you saved Cata and yourself from the troubled sea.

Even then one of the women in the white jerseys tackled you, you were able to stay in the moment. The anxious thoughts couldn’t reach you right now.

“Are you okay, y/n? She tackled you pretty hard?”, Patri wanted to know from you in a concerned tone.

“Yes, I’m okay.”, you told her as she helped you to get back on to your feet.

“You don’t need anything?”, the midfielder continued being worried.

“No, I’m good.”, you assured her ready to take the free kick yourself.

The Barca fans were holding their breath, watching the ball flying in the air until it reached one of your teammates heads who scored the first goal of the game.

With sparkling eyes Alexia pulled you into a grateful hug: “Nice one. Told you there was something special about this stadium.”

“It feels like a theatre of dreams and your goal was amazing, Ale.”, you agreed beaming.

After the ninety minutes were played you sprinted straight into Cata open arms: “It was scary at first, but when it felt amazing.”

“I told you.”, your girlfriend answered proudly, holding you tightly.

“Time for the group hug!”, Claudia demanded in the background, interrupting the sweet moment between you two.

During the embrace of your teammates, Ona congratulated you smiling brightly:” Y/n, you were so good on your first game at Camp Nou.”

“Thanks, Oni.”, you whispered thankfully.

“I had no doubt about that.”, Cata threw in with a cheeky smirk on her lips.

“Of course not.”, Patri rolled her eyes playfully.

“She’s just that good.”, the goalkeeper shrugged.

“You’re so in love with your girl.”, Claudia commented teasingly.

“Maybe.”, Cata admitted, having only eyes for you as she spoke which warmed your heart even more.

“Not maybe, definitely.”, Salma corrected her giggling.

“Yeah, okay. But also, I know how good she is.”, your girlfriend responded.

“Y/n, she’s your number one fan.”, Alexia observed amused.

“So am I of her.”, you replied sincerely.

A gagging noise from beside you made you look over to your right.

Lucy grimaced, pretending to throw up. “That’s almost too sweet to believe it.“

“Yeah but looking at the two of them… I believe them.“, Mariona said, smiling at you and Cata.

You started to get a bit uncomfortable with the attention from your teammates so you asked innocently: “Can we change the topic? We have a win to celebrate.“

It still felt absolutely surreal that you had taken part in winning the infamous El Clásico.

“What about a light night swim?“, Cata suggested, fanning herself with her gloves.

Your teammates all exchanged sceptic glances. You couldn’t blame them, most of them probably just wanted to go home after an exhausting evening.

Jana raised an eyebrow: “Seriously?“

“It’s warm. Why not?“, Cata shrugged.

You grinned at your girlfriend: “I’m in.“

“Fine. It’s only us then.“, Cata laughed as no one else seemed interested.

You wouldn’t say that your were too sad about that. “Alright.“

After a quick shower and getting dressed in a rush, Cata took you the beach.

You could barely contain your happiness once you heard the crashing waves and tasted the salt in the air.

“We won!“, you yelled as you dashed towards the water. You just ran until the water reached up to your hips. It was just as refreshing as you were hoping it would be.

Cata followed quickly: “We did!“

She stopped right next to you, pulling you close to her.

You stood chest to chest, the water moving around you but you stood there, still and immoveable.

You smiled at Cata.

She smiled back, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.

You leaned forward and kissed her with all the excitement and restlessness of the night: “Here’s to many more wins.“

You knew they would come, whether they were big wins with your team or small wins fighting your own mind. And Cata would always be right there with you to celebrate them all.

[saturnville]

all yours, jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x black fem oc (adeba malina). warnings: sexual insinuations. song: all yours by normani an: I don’t remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long. and I came out of football retirement for this, so let me know how you like it! 🫶🏾 also, can anyone guess what position I played? 👀

“I don’t have an interest in pursuing a relationship with Jude. He’s a great guy but…”

Jude Bellingham, the world’s wonder boy, had become a staple in her life over the last few months following his multi-million dollar transfer to Real Madrid, but not for the reasons that people thought. They met during a dinner celebrating his transfer and hit it off immediately.

“Congratulations,” she said cooly and sat next to the young footballer. When her voice registered in his ears and her face came into view, his eyes grew wide and he looked like a child in a candy store. “I’m Adeba Malina.”

She needed no introduction. He knew exactly who she was. Former Madridista turned business-woman. She was known as one of the greatest center midfielders of her time; her speed, agility, and vision for a pathway to the goalbox were praised by the highest of heavens. Ronaldo’s protege and a Madrid icon. Adeba Malina was a football legend.

“Jude.” His hand engulfed hers as he shook it firmly yet delicately. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Adeba pushed a strand of hair away from her face and nodded once, taking in the footballer with a quick sweep of her eyes. He wore a crisp black suit with a complimentary black tie against the freshly pressed white shirt. He was handsome, but she didn’t let her mind go past that. Rather she said, “I trust you’ll do big things with Los Blancos. I’m excited to see what you do on the pitch.”

He was bashful, she noticed, his brown skin suddenly growing red and a small smile on his lips, “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

“No problem at all. You enjoy your dinner, but a piece of advice, if I may.” Jude sat up intently. Adeba leaned over, her lips close to his ear as she tried to speak over the rowdy individuals around her. “You have nothing to prove to anyone. You’re young, gifted, and Black. They’ll do and say anything to make you look bad and to get in your head. Perfect your craft, do your best, and keep moving. There’s nothing to prove.”

Jude met her eyes for the first time that night. The prettiest shade of brown with specks of caramel. They held care and intentionality, just like the words she spoke, and he digested them like his favorite food. It was at that moment that Jude knew she’d be a good person in his life.

“But what?”

Adeba cursed to herself as she sorted through her jerseys for one to wear. Zizou. Ramos. Varane. Ronaldo. Beckham. Rodríguez. Malina. Bellingham. She snatched it off the hangar and onto her bed behind her. It would make do, and it would be cute with her newest navy blue heels and straight-leg jeans. “But,” she started after some time. “He’s younger than me and we’re just friends.”

The woman behind her scoffed audibly. “He’s barely 3 years younger than you, not 12. And you just went through 6 jerseys, knowing you have kits dating back to the 90s, including your own, to wear his, as you do for almost every home match. Don’t play with me.” And there it was. The bluntness and honesty of Colombia’s very own Dawn Nalinja, data analyst turned interior designer.

The two crossed paths at an event in Barcelona four years prior and had been inseparable ever since. So much so that their homes were in the same building, four floors apart. They were quite literally, two peas in a pod.

Adeba sighed and began getting dressed for the match against Dortmund. “Look, I just don’t think every friendship needs to transition to a relationship. Jude is good people and you don’t have to have to romanticize everything with good people.”

Dawn blinked, one, two, three times before sighing. “While that may be true, it’s best to romanticize aspects of your life with a good person, especially before they get swiped by someone else. You won’t know until you give it a try and that goes for anyone, not just Jude. But, we’ll leave that there. Are you ready?”

Adeba slid her feet into her shoes, fluffed her braids, and swiped her purse off the bed. She ignored the feeling within her chest and smiled softly as she tried not to think too hard on what Dawn had mentioned. “Ready!”

-

And as predicted, Los Blancos took the victory. Adeba always adored the energy of the stadium during victories, no matter who won. There was joy in seeing fans jump for joy, holler the chants of their favorite players, and take pictures with the players who’d walked by.

By the end of the match, Dawn had scurried off with her significant other, leaving Adeba to wait in the tunnel for Jude as she typically would.

She tapped her fingers against the wall as she waited for his exit, and when he came into view, the smile she didn’t realize she had on her face widened. “Hey, champ.”

Jude welcomed the greeting and returned it with a hug and a kiss against her cheek. Adeba felt warm as his arm circled around her waist and his fingers brushed against the loops of her jeans. Dangerous territories. “Thank you, Dee. What’re you doing after?”

Adeba shrugged as she stepped back to put distance between them, but it still hadn’t forced his hand to drop from her waist. If anything, it made his grip tighter. She ignored the pulsing between her thighs and said, “I planned to go home.” Her bed was always a wonderful place to be.

Jude nodded once. “Want to come to dinner with me? Not in the mood to party, but I could eat.”

Her head turned to the side and her braids swayed with it. “Just us?” The corner of Jude’s lips rose in amusement at her question. He couldn’t recall a time when them being alone mattered so much before, but with the way her breath quickened, he knew it was deeper than what she let on.

Adeba grew nervous underneath his gaze. His brown eyes were focused on her. How had she not realized how pretty they were? A rich shade of mahogany, a portal to a place unknown.

She exhaled shakily. He answered her question: “Just us.”

-

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adebamalina. hala madrid y nada más. congratulación a los blancos para la victoria 🤍 ft the wonder boy himself

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username stunning

username 😍

— adebamalina thank you honey

username the braids!!!

judebellingham 🤍🤍🤍 always grateful for your support

— adebamalina so proud of you.

username. just get tg alr

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username. I know yall saw Jude like her comment!

username. the prettiest wag out!

-- username. girl, she’s not a wag. just a rm legend

-- username. she’s always with jude, so she might as well be. two for one special atp

-- judebellingham liked your comment!

username. real madrid legends fr

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georginagio we still need to have our shopping date!!

— adebamalina I’ll book a flight in a few weeks! and tell Cris and the kids I said hello!

username. okay but fr when are they getting tg?

— saturnville girl idk I haven’t thought that far yet

-

“Stay with me tonight.”

If Adeba lived in an animated world, she would have heard her feet squeal like brakes when she stopped suddenly. She turned slowly to see Jude standing with one hand in his pocket while the other held her blue heels, a straight look on his face. “As in…?” Adeba pushed for further explanation. Sure, they’d hung out before at each other’s places and in other public spaces, but his words hinted at something more.

“Movies, snacks, and I’ll whoop your ass in Uno. Just something chill. I just…didn’t want the night to end this early.”

Adeba sighed heavily. She wanted to deny him. To tell him that wasn’t a line that needed to be crossed. That she was nothing more than a friend, a mentor in a way, to push him to be his best self in his professional and personal life, but how could she? With the way he looked down on her and not in a condemning way. But with a look of adoration. His eyebrows were relaxed and his eyes were soft. His body language spoke of comfortability in her presence with how his shoulders were low and slightly rounded above her body. Like a guard.

She wanted to tell him she’d go home, that she didn’t want to blur any lines. She wanted to admit that she had no feelings for him at all, but then she’d be lying, and one thing Adeba Malina hated was a liar.

Adeba pondered on it longer. Her teeth captured her bottom lip as her mind worked to weigh the pros and the cons. They were friends, just friends. Friends who were potentially spending the night together…alone. With any other guy friend, the idea would have repulsed her. But when it came to Jude, something within her sparked with curiosity at the idea of staying the night with him.

Maybe Dawn was right. If everything aligned, would it be worth a try?

Adeba finally met his eyes again and nodded. “Okay.”

-

“You started playing at 17 for Real. Is that how you met Cristiano?” Jude asked inquisitively and passed the bag of candy to Adeba, who sat on her knees in front of him. She nodded and popped a few Nerds in her mouth.

“Correct. The men’s team came to visit the women’s practice and of course, we’re football fanatics just like you, so having these legends visit us and give us advice was amazing. Cris always gave me good advice, especially being that we both came from nothing. So, I try to pour into you what he and many others pour into me.”

Jude couldn’t help but smile. From what she’d shared, she was Ghana-born and raised in Spain once her parents moved at the age of five. She couldn’t take much with her when traveling to Europe, but what she did take was a soccer ball her father had gotten her, which she kept in a glass case in her jersey closet. Growing up she didn’t have much, but she had her ball, and that was enough for her.

What she didn’t know was that the ball would grant her and her siblings an education, her parents a home, and her family stability that would continue even when she left the Earth. Football saved her in more ways than one. She understood what it was like to fall in love with it and she also understood the challenges that came with it. And that was what she enjoyed sharing with others. The journey of loving the game.

“I appreciate that,” he replied. There was a silence between them, a comfortable one. “I still can’t believe you kicked my ass four times.” His tone was teasing, she knew, but she could hear a hint of seriousness. She shrugged and smiled.

“A torn ACL took me out the game, but you can never take the game out of me, baby. I do this.” It was his turn to get flustered. Baby. It was a casual pet name and he knew she meant nothing by it but he wanted to hear it over and over.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “I’ll get you back eventually.”

Adeba’s eyebrow raised, “Is this a challenge, Mr. Bellingham?” His eyes met hers. There was a glint of mischief behind her which displayed her fun and teasing nature. But, behind the mischief, her eyes grew darker and the smirk on her lips grew wider, especially as he began to visibly crumble under her gaze.

“Maybe,” was all he could get out.”Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And there it was. The ambiguous statement that left the two of them wondering what the other meant. But she knew. He knew. It was his comment that seemed to shorten the invisible string between them that seemed to wrap around the world. Suddenly, it was just inches long andt the only thing that kept their bodies from pressing against one another’s in a heated exchange of passion.

“Is that so?” Adeba’s tongue circled around her cheek, a subtle action that left Jude’s stomach clenching. He nodded.

The space between them continued to dwindle. They were once separated by the middle cushion of the couch, but now, they could feel the warmth from each other’s breath fanning against their faces. Jude, making the first move, brought his hand to her bare face, fingers caressing her skin. She was so beautiful. Rich complexion with beauty marks and faded acne scars that added to her uniqueness. Her lips were so full. His thumb drummed against them. “Pretty girl…”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “Please…”

Before she could say anything else, his mouth was on hers. Adeba felt her inhibitions slip away as their lips moved together. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of kissing him and what it’d be like. She expected something sweet. Nah, this was a grown kiss. Passionate and intense, borderline sloppy and nasty. Exactly how she liked it.

Adeba couldn’t remember how she ended up on her back with her bare legs around his waist as he kissed and sucked along the skin of her neck, but she chose not to think of it too much. She refused to be the reason why the moment was ruined.

Jude enjoyed every moment. From feeling her legs tense around his waist and shuddering as her manicured nails snuck under his shirt to trail along his abdomen to hearing her whisper his name so delicately. Jude. She drove him insane.

But, as much as he wanted to keep going, he knew she deserved more than a heated makeout on his couch at two in the morning with no clear expression of his feelings. So, he broke away from her, which was met with a very cute yet very confused expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Jude smiled and shook his head. He used his thumb to wipe the corners of her mouth which were damp from their heated exchange. “Nothing, I just…I like you a lot. In a more than friends way and I think you should know that before anything else happens. It’s only right.” Adeba’s eyes sparkled at his comment. “And…I’d like to take you out. On a real date. Just us. Then maybe, if you’re up to it, we can see how far this goes.”

Adeba smiled. “I’d like that.”

Damn it, Dawn.

-

6 months later…

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adebamalina my man, my man, my man

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dawnnalinjaaaa finally!!!! y’all were pissing me off

-- adebamalina yeah yeah yeah

cristiano ❤️

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georginagio double date!!!

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-- username you’re so real for this

-

“Baby, we’ve got somewhere to beeee.” Adeba’s words were dragged out as she grew distracted by his lips against her neck and his front pressed against her back. “Jude…”

He hummed softly, massaging her hips as she struggled to finish the finishing touches on her makeup. They had a date to celebrate their six month anniversary but it seemed as though Jude wasn’t in a hurry to make it to their reservation on time. “You look pretty, love. Pretty and all mine.”

All yours, she replied. Jude’s eyes swept across her body. Adeba looked stunning. She wore a red dress that flowed every step she took. Her hair was curly, her makeup was bright and beautiful, and of course, her full lips were just begging to be kissed.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping her makeup products down. She turned in his arms and smiled. Her hands were against his chest and she soothed his suit jacket with her palms. “You look very handsome as always. Let’s go.”

Adeba took a step back to go find her heels and purse, but was stopped by his lips on hers. Jude swallowed every moan she released and allowed it to fuel the fire that burned within him. She circled her arm around his neck as their kiss intensified. She’d never get enough of this.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips.

Adeba smiled. “I love you too.”

[featguler]

i just wanna say ────── when i see your face, was like, "where have you been?"

♡ ────── pairing : vinícius júnior x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. NO SMUT (well yes smut but it's in flashbacks) but the diction is lowkey nasty here, do not read/interact if you are under 18 or i will find you and block you. morning after blablabla. not proofread sorry if this sucks. 18 PLUS 18 PLUS 18 PLUS. ♡ ────── wordcount : 616 ♡ ────── notes : vinicius junior pls stop it stop it stop IT. everyone go on madrid's instagram and look at their newest video promoting the new kit right now vini is so HOT when he smiled i literally came wtf. title and desc is based on chanmina's needy. inspired by this list by nightprompts! ♡ masterlist.

“D’you regret it?”

You blink, eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight filtering through the thin curtain of the hotel room.

For a second, you can’t remember where in the fuck you are—Ibiza, Miami, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, Madrid, blablabla. All the cities you’ve been to spin around in your dizzy head, trying to recall which nightclub it was that you spent the night rolling your hips and grinding your ass on anyone who’d give you an ounce of their attention.

“Huh?”

You rub your eyes as Vinícius turns on his chest, propping a pillow underneath his body. As you take in the features of his face, memories of the night before come crashing into you and you place a hand on his face, pushing him away the moment inhibitions begin blossoming in your chest. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and presses a short kiss on the base of your palm.

“The sex,” he clarifies, the edge of his lips tugging into a short smirk, letting your hand cup his face. “Was pretty good, huh?”

It comes in quick flashes: three of his thick digits stretching your hole as your nails dig into the skin behind his neck, prepping you up for just a finger too much. Not your fault the size of his cock intimidated you the moment you let it slip past your pretty lips, but damn, you should have made him put another finger inside before letting him fuck you.

But hindsight tells you that no amount of fingerfucking would have prepared for his body weight on yours anyway. With one hand gripping your hips as the other pins your hand against the bed, he fucked into you doggystyle, in his own pace, savoring every inch of your squelching walls around his shaft. And no matter how much you’d babble for him to go faster, he’d ignore you and continue pushing into you real nice and slow.

“Wasn’t,” you cover your eyes with your arms after a few moments of silence, feeling tiny under his wolfish gaze, like he’s prying into your mind and seeing for himself the recollection you have of your hip bucking up against his, thighs shivering with one leg over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he grins, murmuring your name as he holds himself up on his elbow, his face leaning into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your sweat as his. “I told you I’d make you feel good,” he nips at your neck, his fingers finding their way on your bare torso, still sensitive from his grip, “made you feel good, didn’t I?”

“Vinícius—”

“Come on,” he cuts you off, coaxing, “that’s not what you were calling me last night.”

You huff, not stopping his mouth from lapping on your skin. Instead, you place a hand on his chest and whimper as his palm slides down, landing on the curve of your ass, giving it a hard  squeeze.

“You should call me baby,” he suggests, “it’s hot when you call me baby.”

“Maybe,” you sputter, eyes fluttering close. His hand works towards your thigh, fingernails dragging against the thin skin. “Shoulda let you fuck me sooner.”

Vinícius chuckles, tracing his lips against your jaw, kissing the corner of your lips. “That’s what I’ve been tellin’ ya.”

“Shoulda listened,” you part your lips and grab his chin, pulling him in against your lips. “I’d consider calling you baby if you fuck me again. Like last night.”

He smiles against your lips, biting on them. “You’re makin’ me hard.”

“Gotta do it harder though, Viní.”

His eyes glisten, liking the challenging tone dripping on your words.

“Yeah?” His eyes travel down your body before meeting yours once again. “Deal.”

[cosmicpearlz]

fragile hearts

summary: two public figures that try to navigate their relationship with such hectic schedules. at some point, it was bound to come crashing down, right?

pairing: jude bellingham x singer!reader

valentine's day, cryin' in the hotel

i know you didn't mean to hurt me,

so i kept it to myself.

-

meeting jude had been a complete accident. you had a show in madrid, causing some of the players from real madrid to go. he happened to be one of them, along with vinicius, brahim and eduardo. naturally, you invited them backstage because you were a fan of the well-known football team. jude couldn't take his eyes off of you. memorized by the way you performed on stage. the confidence that flowed from you with every word you sang.

it's been a year since you first met. being boyfriend and girlfriend hasn't always been easy, because of the fact that you guys have to do long distance but you made it work.

"baby!" you yelled across the house, rushing to find jude. you found him sitting on the bed, watching tv. he looks up towards the door when you came running in.

"what's going on sunshine?" you jumped on him and hugged him tightly. jude chuckles, while wrapping his arms around you just as tight.

"i was just asked to perform in barcelona! they have a festival going on and want me to perform."

"that's amazing baby. when is it?"

"on the fourteenth." jude's eyebrows furrowed.

"on valentines day?"

"yeah."

"i have a match that day. you said you would come." he slowly removing his arms from around your waist. you tilt your head in confusion and sit up in his lap.

"i didn't think it would be a problem. i'm at almost all of your matches."

"why didn't you ask?"

"why do i have to? this is huge for my career for them to even want me there."

jude taps your leg gently, making you get out of his lap. in a way, you felt hurt. this was suppose to be a happy moment for you and your boyfriend wasn't being as supportive.

"well congratulations i guess," he grabs his phone and walks out. you sit there dumbfounded at his behavior. you would've never treated him like that. why couldn't he be supportive of this great opportunity?

-

the days leading up to the date were quiet. it was like a switch flipped off in jude. you guys went from spending pretty much every waking moment together to not even having a conversation that lasted more than five minutes. feeling like strangers rather than boyfriend and girlfriend.

you woke up before jude, knowing he had to leave early and decided to cook him breakfast for valentine's day as a surprise. cooking everything you knew he liked and plated it nicely. you almost couldn't contain the smile that was forming on your face. awkward phase or not, jude was the love of your life and that wasn't going to change.

"good morning baby! happy valentine's day," you walked in the room, finding him siting up against the headboard. you handed him one of the plates and sat across from him on the bed.

"happy valentine's day m'love. thank you for breakfast," jude leans forward and places kisses to your cheek and lips.

"i wanted to do something special for you. oh, plus, i have another surprise for you after my set." the boy's mood was quick to turn sour once again.

"I have my match, remember? oh yeah, you don't care enough to remember."

"jude," you sighed and placed your plate in your lap. "your match is at 10 am and then my set is at 6 pm."

"why can't you come to the match then?"

"they want me there early. i'm sorry babe."

"yeah whatever," he goes to eating the rest of his breakfast in silence.

"please don't spend the rest of our morning like this." you were met with silence, leaving you no choice but to wallow in it. "can you come to my set?" you quietly asked, hoping the answer would be yes even though he's upset. you guys were each others good luck charm.

"we'll see."

"jude, please don't be like that."

"i said, i'll see if i can make it. i don't know what you want me to say," he gets out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen. leaving you behind with a ache in your chest.

"i just wanted you to say that you'll be there," mumbling to yourself, you get up and follow him to the kitchen. jude stood over the sink washing the dishes that was left from you cooking. you slide your plate and fork in the sink, wrapping your arms around his waist after.

"if you can't make it, i understand. just please come to the hotel that my team has me in. i really do have a surprise for you."

"okay." you placed a kiss to his shoulder blade and unwrapped yourself from him, giving him space.

-

you were buzzing for the rest of the day. excited that your boyfriend's team won the match and this was your first time performing in barcelona. you texted jude, congratulating him on the win. as you were getting dressed, you were hoping that jude would be there in the crowd. especially since madrid was only a six hour drive away from barcelona.

"you ready rockstar?" you excitedly nodded at your manger kate. she gave you a high five and patted your back. you gave her one last smile, before letting the stage production guide you to the stage.

"hello barcelona! thank you, thank you, thank you for inviting me to play," the screams from the crowd making your heart warm. "i'm so excited to play for you all. let's get started, yeah?"

jude watched as you danced around the stage. it reminded him of the first time you guys met. he always loved seeing you in your element. absolutely letting go and just being yourself, while you sang. the boy started to feel guilty about not being happy for you when you first told him the news. he was being petty and reminded himself to apologize when he sees you backstage.

"i love you guys so much. thank you for being here and inviting me! goodnight barcelona," you blew a kiss and waved, as you walked off the stage.

there jude stood with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. you jumped into his arms, pulling him down into a tight hug. he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.

"you did so good baby. i'm unbelievably proud of you."

"i can't believe you made it."

"i was dick but i could never miss this moment. love seeing you on stage," jude places kisses all over of your face, causing you to giggle uncontrollably. you pushed his head away and smiled.

"i still have a surprise for you! we should get going."

"after you m'lady," jude dramatically bows as you lead the way. you were excited to finally have a conversation that lasted more than five minutes. going back to the way you guys were before.

-

"okay, so i worked really hard on this. i wanted to do this as a 'i'm sorry for missing your match'. i really hope you like-" you were cut off by jude's phone ringing. he took the phone out of his pocket and answered it immediately.

"nah, I'm not busy at all," your brows furrowed hearing him say that. it felt like a punch to your gut. as if you weren't showing him the surprise you had been planing for weeks. it takes a couple minutes before he gets off the phone.

"i'm sorry babe, i have to go."

"what?"

"the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win. i'll be back before midnight. i love you," jude kissed your lips and then moved to place one to your forehead as well. he was already walking away before you could get another word in. sighing to yourself, you walked into your hotel room.

you had the room decorated with balloons and rose petals everywhere. figuring that because it was valentine's day, he deserved something nice. instead, you were in the room alone. hoping that he'll be back before midnight like he promised.

-

he wasn't there. didn't answer a text message nor any of your calls. you waited, watching the time go by quickly. this was enough to make you question your relationship. jude was usually really good with his promises. did he do this on purpose because you missed the match?

"happy valentine's day jude," you whisper to yourself, drinking from the bottle of champagne you bought for your shared time together.

you silently cried to yourself as you watched the clock hit one o'clock in the morning. you felt so alone and unwanted. jude would rather spend time with his teammates than his own girlfriend. maybe the long distance wasn't working for him anymore. maybe he was still being petty. all you knew was that you were hurt. even crying didn't ease the pain that lingered in your chest.

[footballfanficwriter]

Hiii, I love your writing, can I request a Jude x reader where they do celebrity gogglebox and they watch Jude’s champions league final at Wembley where he proposed to her & she told him she’s pregnant, and they watch everyone’s reaction at Wembley when it’s happening ( his teammates, family & fans)

A/n: I was so excited to write this I just had to get started immediately,cause I hadn't gotten a request in such a long time,thank you so much for this and I hope you enjoy please comment and like at the end I'd really love some feed back as to how my writing is and where I need to improve

Looking Back

Hi I'm Jude Bellingham"

"And I'm Y/n Bellingham and welcome to our Google box interview"

"It's not an interview"

"Then what is it?"

(Color bars)

"Hi I'm Jude(Laughs)

"Why are you laughing?"

"Stop"

(Color Bars)

"Ok we gotta be serious this time"

"Hi I'm Jude Bellingham"

"And I'm Y/n Bellingham"

"And today we're doing a Google box, about our story and how we got to this moment in our lives together and my first of the season"

"Bit of a mouth full innit"

"Whatever, just press play"

He pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead I lay my head on his chest , then he takes some popcorn from the bowl on my lap

I press play and the first thing that appears is Jude's first day in Madrid when he signed his Real Madrid contract

"This day was a big one you know, new place for us, new language and Culture, just everything"

"Luckily we had so many people that were willing to help and make our adjustment as easy as possible"

"True"

"Actually I remember something from that day"

"What?"

"You nearly tripped and fell"

I give him an eyebrow raise

"Yes you did, I remember you nearly fell and I caught you, I'm surprised they didn't get that on camera"

"No I didn't Jude, you're lying"

"No I'm not, I vividly remember holding your heels after the pictures cause you'd given up on them after you used my shoulder to help you take them off"

"I don't remember that"

"I even told you that morning before we left the hotel that you should get a comfortable shoe then you said no and I put your shoes in the car before we left"

"I still don't remember"

"The gaslighting is crazy"

"Let's continue" I say remembering the moment he's talking about

The video cuts and this time it's Jude's first Real Madrid game

"I remember that game, when we were in America during the preseason games and we played against Milan"

"I remember being in the stands and just being so nervous"

The video cuts and shows Jude waving to someone in the crowd after the game

"Mhhhm I wonder who you're waving too"

"Same" he says

The video cuts again but this time it's  Jude's first La Liga game where he scored his first La Liga goal and celebrates in front of the Bilbao fans and all of them showing him the finger

"The amount of hate that came from those fans you'd swear I'd  just killed someone"

I laugh at his his comment

"No but on a serious note though that was just iconic"

"And you know what I loved about it?"

"What?" He asks

"It never discouraged you, instead you continued playing at your best"

"Yeah it didn't discourage me but I for sure thought I would be the most hated player of the season and actually right after that moment I remember looking for you in the stands and you had made a heart with your fingers"

"I mean, I needed you to know that even if the whole world hates you I'll still love you"

"And I'll love you more"

The video cuts and it's Jude's first El classico where he scored two goals

"Ah I remember that game, it was my first El classico"

"I remember going home after that game and we were just in disbelief"

"Yeah, I just couldn't believe it, you know and I was so nervous the night before, remember?"

"Yeah I remember, you were pacing around the room and the whole time and I was just there trying to calm you down"

"I was nervous"

"I know you were my love, but the next day you scored 2 goals and won the match so there was no need to be nervous"

The video cuts again and shows Jude's Goal against Girona and his injury, how he was on the floor and the medical team icing his ankle

then the camera panned to me where I looked with a concerned expression on my face and glistening eyes

"I was so worried in that moment" I said looking at the screen

"So was I, I just heard my ankle pop and i knew something was wrong"

"We didn't get home the until the early hours of the morning"

He turned to the camera and said

"She stayed by my side the whole night despite me telling her to go home and rest and the whole time she held my hand while my ankle was being examined and I'm not gonna lie I was grateful that she didn't listen to me because that was very painfull and having her by my side just served as comfort"

"I couldn't leave you there, I would've been restless at home not knowing what was happening" I say smiling up at him

"Well I'm glad you stayed"

"You're welcome"

"Ok next"

The camera cuts to the Ballon d'or ceremony and Jude Winning the Kopa award where he does his speech

"Thank you everyone for all the wonderful support and the messages, two days ago I won my first El classico so this is just a cherry on top, thank you to the fans and the supports and my Family as well  I am grateful and I am appreciative,thank you"

"Wow, you really do have a way with words don't you?"

"What can I say, This was my First time going to the Ballon d'or ceremony and just being there with so many other great Footballers and Football legends was so surreal it felt amazing

I remember meeting R9 for the first time and you were by my side holding my hand and the whole time as we're talking to him I was holding onto your hand for dear life"

"I actually thought you were gonna break my hand I'm surprised I still have it"

"I'm sorry"

"It's fine I'm just glad i was there with you" I say

"He kisses my forehead and looks towards the screen again

The screen transitions to Jude's first Champions League game for Madrid

"That game was another for the books, first UCL game and I had scored the only and the winning goal"

"Yeah I was really proud to say the least ,aww look at that that, he's pointing to me" I say

"You wish"  he says jokingly

"One day , maybe not today or Tomorrow but one day you'll get a taste of your own medicine" I say

"Oh my gosh shiver me timbers I'm so scared"

"You will be" I say and lean back onto his chest and he kisses my head and I smile

The screen transitions to Jude's Golden boy ceremony

"Incredible moment" he said

"Yeah I just remember watching you with awe and I just thought about everything that happened to get to that moment and get that award"

"Yeah the plane ride to Italy was cool and calm but that's because we knew what to expect and what was going to happen I think it was when we got there that it actually dawned on us that I had just won the award"

"True"

The screen transitions again and this time

It's Jude Celebrating the supa copa de espane

"First trophy of the season and for Real Madrid" he says

"Unfortunately I wasn't there but you called me immediately after you got into the dressing room and the whole time, vini and cama were just interrupting us and asking to talk to me"

"I'm not gonna lie that did annoy me and I couldn't get a word in they kept stealing my phone as if they don't have their own girlfriends"

"I'm not your girlfriend, I'm your wife"

"At the time you were my girlfriend"

"I actually preferred talking to them"

"Of course you did" he says rolling his eyes

The screen transitions to the game where Jude received a red Card and got a two game ban as a punishment

"I don't wanna talk about this game, I might just get into trouble"

"But I won't"

"I don't know...

"Let's all be honest here that ref was unfair and he knows it he blew the whistle while the ball was in the air and in my opinion that red card shouldn't have even been pulled out, it was a natural reaction to what had just happened at the time"

"Ok Mrs. Bellingham, not you defending your Husband"

"I mean my husband is always protecting me so it's only right"

"I'm blessed to have you in my life"

"As am I" I say and smile as I look up at him and he pecks my lips

"Ok next one"

The screen transitions to the match where Jude was a spectator at a Real Madrid game after the red card he got

"I loved that game you know, the love and the support of the fans was one of the things that kept me going, and just let me know that they were behind me and that was really heart warming"

"The Madridistas are very much loved"

"That is not a lie"

"Next"

Now we're watching Jude accepting his Lauresports award

"I was just tired that day, exhausted could even describe it"

"I actually opted to accept the award on your behalf so you could rest and take a break for a little bit,but him being stubborn he refused"

"It wouldn't have been ok, even though I was tired I needed to be there"

"I don't know when you'll realize that you're only human"

"I know I am"

"Mhmmm, whatever you say"

Next we see the La Liga title race parade and Jude lifting the trophy

"That day was amazing" he says, ,"the atmosphere the fans, you"

"I loved the outfit mostly, you looked  Handsome more than anything"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I can't explain it but damn, that day I learned to appreciate what I have" I say

He laughs and I join him in laughing

"You're so weird you know that"

"I'm just telling the truth"

He continues laughing and the screen changes again but this time a picture of Jude stating that he was the player of the season

"The day of the award show, I was getting ready for the champions league Final, so we couldn't attend and to be honest it was worth it because if I had attended I would have gotten what I received that day"

"And what's that?" I ask as I look at him hoping he'll mention our special moment

"Winning the Champions league"

I roll my eyes at him and watch the screen changed as he laughs at his stupid Joke

The screen changes to the Champions league Final against Dortmund

Showing highlights of the game and the team

Then the moment Real Madrid won the Champions league and the Celebrations

The camera then pans to Jude to where he's having his post match interview

"Jude, well done on your win, how long have you dreamed of this moment"

"Ages hey, a long time"

"What does it mean to win the champions league"

"It means the world to me, I've dreamed about this for a long time, it's every footballers dream"

"How do you plan on Celebrating such a moment"

"With my teammates and my Family, I've actually got a very important person here that hopefully I won't only be celebrating a champions league trophy with but much more as well

"Well congratulations Jude"

"Thank you, I need to go do something important, please excuse me"

"Of course"

"Here we go" Jude says as we watch the screen

He walks to the stands and walks to where I'm standing and helps me get down the stairs and leads me to the middle of the pitch

"Where are we going?" Can be mouth read as Jude  walks me to the pitch

"Just trust me" he replies

We reach the middle of the pitch when all of a sudden Jude Goes down on one knee and gives and inaudible speech that can't be heard because it was covered by the cheers and screams of the fans watching the interaction happen

"We couldn't even hear eachother in that moment" I say watching the screeen

All they see is me nodding my head and mouthing yes

Jude gets up and slips the engagement ring on and he hugs me tightly, then I swiftly pull away and look him in the eye

And mouth something that can't he heard or mouth read

Jude's eyes go bigger and on shock

"Are you serious?"

Is faintly heard and I nod and the fans continue cheering with Jude hugging me and spinning me around in the middle of the pitch

The video then shows the reactions of Jude's teammates, who rush over to congratulate us. The camera captures the joyous expressions of our family in the stands, and the fans are going wild with excitement.

Jude's teammates run to where we are

"Juuuuuude" they chant

Cama and Tchomeni  come and give me hugs

"Back off Cama that's my Future wife right there" Jude says

Cama rolls his eyes and just continues hugging me

"Congratulations"

"Thank you"

Back on the couch, Jude and I look at each other with smiles.

Jude looks to the camera and says

"Now you're probably wondering what she told, that made me react like that, truth is she told me that she was pregnant and that I was going to be a father and honestly, a three in one that night was amazing"

"I don't way that it was the best day of my life, but at the moment it is, but that will probably change when we get married or when we have our baby" he continues

"That moment changed everything," Jude says softly. "Winning the Champions League was amazing, but proposing to you and finding out we were expecting... that was the best moment of my life."

"Mine too," you say, leaning into him. "And now, here we are, sharing our story with everyone."

"Yeah, it's been an incredible journey," Jude agrees. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds for us toether. With us planning a wedding and expecting our first child together it's bound to be a rollercoaster"

"I've been Jude Bellingham and Joined by my Future wife Y/n Bellingham and thank you for watching