#neymar jr fics

[blueaetherr]

HELLLO HOPE UR OKAY!! If u have time could u write anything with Neymar? <3 THANK U ITS ALRIGHT IF U DONT THO!!

slumber

pairing: neymar jr x fem!oc (natalia) [she/her]

warning(s): descriptions of insomnia

summary: the one where neymar can't sleep until natalia does

22:00

Entering their bedroom from the bathroom, Neymar witnessed Natalia spread across their bed. Her face planted into her pillow, her arms crossed under her body, constantly shifting her sleeping position like she was uncomfortable; it looked like she was going through it. And Neymar thought so too. In fact, deep down, he knew what was up, it was the same old every time. And yet he decided to be careful and mindful and simply ask just in case. 

Approaching their bed, he sat at the edge of the bed. At the tiny sound made by the bed, Y/N let out a small groan, causing Neymar to scoff a small laugh. She still isn't asleep yet. His initial thoughts were proving to be right. Rubbing her back, he wondered, "You okay, Nat?"

Exhaling loudly, she turned herself around so she was now facing her partner. She began rubbing a hand over her face, whole yet tired, "I've been in bed for how long and I've gained no desire to fall asleep." And Neymar's initial thoughts were, indeed, correct. 

After a long day of work, errands and many chores, the ordinary individual wouldn't take rest for granted. If they were given the chance to lay in all day, to ignore and avoid all the responsibilities of tomorrow, to sleep and not have to worry about work the next day, they would take it; anyone would. To rest up and be told that your responsibilities were long gone, it all sounded like a dream, one so attractive and irresistible. 

But according to Natalia's sleeping schedule, it seemed as if she did take the daily rest for granted from time to time. She could work, do chores and run errands, and she would still find herself tired as hell. Sleeping was where the problem lay. She had told Neymar some hours ago that she would turn in around eight because of her long day; two hours later and she was still awake, rolling around on the bed trying to find a comfortable position.

"Trouble sleeping?" Neymar hummed, letting their hands interlock. He definitely felt for Natalia. For her (sometimes) sleepless nights, for the nights he came back late and she was still awake. The tired eyes, the worn-out expressions, the deep breaths; she had to endure all that fatigue he couldn't take away nor did he know how to directly help with. He gave her hand a little squeeze. "We could always stay up and do a little something to help."

Her eyes closed, she sighed low. "And do what exactly?"

Neymar shrugged, even though she had no sight of him. "Anything you want."

Soon she did have her sight on him, opening her eyes to meet his. "You sure?" Natalia appreciated Neymar's efforts to make her feel better, she really did. But she didn't want it to seem like she was forcing him to lose sleep too. Like herself, Neymar had a long day and she knew his plan was to turn in if she had fallen asleep by now. And seeing as she wasn't, she knew that Neymar wouldn't get a blink of sleep before she did. "You don't have to, you know."

"Well, I want to," Neymar said with his grin, and Natalia rolled her eyes but in the end, it was the two of them that were laughing, clutching onto one another. He spoke like his words were so obvious, like Natalia should know by now. Of course I'll stay up with you. In what case have I not? "Now, c'mon."

00:15

"Diagonal or horizontal cut?"

"Vertical."

The look of disgust and confusion on Neymar's face had Natalia letting out a gasp before laughing, so much that she'd to cover her mouth. Despite this disgust and confusion, Neymar carried out her request by cutting her sandwich down the middle, muttering the whole time saying that there was now less bread compared to if he'd cut it any other way. But when he served her the sandwich and Natalia was smiling, taste-testing and approving his "cooking" skills with her thumbs up, he let his argument go and joined her.

In the dimly lit kitchen, Neymar and Natalia enjoyed the atmosphere they created, one kind and smooth. They laughed at every joke told, they played around as they moved about in the kitchen, they ate (and shared) one another's food. A bit of banter here, with Neymar modelling his cooking apron, and a bit of banter there, with Natalia dashing flour in her partner's face. It was a moment for them to have fun and be unserious, and that's what they did; that's what they chose to do at such late hours.

While they discussed, while they played around, while they ate and shared their food, fatigue slowly began to wash over Neymar. The hidden yawns through laughter, fanning his face to keep himself alert, his curved posture; he was ready to turn in. But watching Natalia enjoy every snack they made—witnessing her animately tired eyes—she wasn't ready for bed, nowhere near it. So he mustered up his energy and continued to entertain their conversation.

01:30

Trailing away from the kitchen, the couple wandered out to their back patio. Where the couches that were all so comfortable and cosy gave them a space to lay down and rest under the night sky. Where when the lights were on, they would star gaze, awing and pointing upward even though they had no knowledge of the stars, galaxies or any otherworldly wonders. Where the two could shy away from everyone else after a long day apart, a space for discussions that were purely gossip.

So that's what Neymar did. He let the focus of the discussion fall on Natalia, letting her take the lead on everything being said. From her work colleagues to random interactions she'd had with strangers, she brought it up. And they would have fun and be so unserious about everything; from Neymar encouraging more the gossip with his agreement and laughter to every word his girlfriend spoke to Natalia letting the discussion flow smooth like a river, her inflection and speech natural yet animated and open.

Under the stars, the galaxies and any otherworldly wonders—gossiping, laughing and more—Neymar slipped further into his fatigue. His yawns began to drown out his laughs, his eyes constantly caving and opening, Natalia holding onto him more than he was with her; he could've fallen asleep as if he so desperately wanted to. 

But watching Natalia enjoy the stars and fun and unseriousness that they were sharing—hearing her shallow breaths against his shoulder—the desire to fall asleep for the night still wasn't there for her yet. And neither was it for Neymar, so he leaned back into the couch and let the lights, both indoor and nightly ones, keep him awake during their gossip session.

2:53

Eventually, the two returned to their bedroom. Ridding themselves of their kitchen activities, they got ready for the night by laying in bed. In their bedroom, in bed, Neymar and Natalia could've done so much and more. From the innocent cuddling to one's natural intimacy. For the purpose of sleeping, they chose to lay in bed– close and intimate– and listen to music.

Music that was calming and comfortable, sounds that had the couple slowly caving into one another. Voices of artists playing that were also lullabies themselves, loud silence replacing conversations as they soon began to fall short. They remained present, of course, but just simply slower and inward and lagged from the two falling in and out of consciousness.

Under the cosy voices of singers, the silence soon became deafening. Neymar's fatigue was far too present and real, so much that he could feel it, perhaps even reach for it. His yawns were too sounding to hide now, he found himself mumbling with closed eyes, the music began to slip out of his ear range. He was ready to fall asleep, and that sleep was ready to pull him under.

Barely opening his eyes and turning his head, he smiled drunkenly. And there Natalia was, fast asleep in a slumber, her body leaning perfectly into his, her breaths shallow yet calm, her face just above the blanket. Witnessing Natalia asleep, in such peace and respite, Neymar finally let his pending fatigue too, wash over him to join her as he always did.

[katebishopsbow]

SOMETHING UNHOLY • NEYMAR JR (part i)

pairing: neymar jr x reader (18+)

summary: while babysitting davi, you went up to neymar’s room to get something for the two of you to play with. it turns out that the room wasn’t empty, and you ended up catching neymar doing something unholy.

tags: explicit sexual content (minors dni), voyeurism, jerking off, choking, praise kink, sir kink, age gap, dirty talking, finger sucking, dom!neymar, babysitter!reader, no mentions of y/n

word count: 2.8k

(gif is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

An excited squeal was heard before the front door flew open, revealing an ecstatic Davi sprinting toward you to greet you with a crushing hug. “You’re finally here!” he giggled with his face burrowed in your shirt, and you patted the back of his head comfortingly as you told him with a smile, “It’s great to see you too, buddy!”

Upon entering the house, Davi began bombarding you with everything that had happened in his life for the past few weeks, from the science fair he won with his exploding slime experiment, the pretty girl who confessed to him at school, the new video game he received from his mom, to the luxurious fishing trip his dad had taken him over the weekend. 

Being the babysitter of Neymar’s kid had its benefits - one of which was the high-paying salary. It paid relatively well compared to the other babysitting jobs you were offered, in fact, it paid so well that this single part-time job was enough to support all your daily expenses and cover part of your tuition fee. And while you initially accepted the job because of the money, you eventually decided to stay because of Davi.

And also because of Neymar - but that’s beside the point.

“Then Dad belly-flopped into the lake! It was awesome!” Davi’s smile is infectious, his genuine excitement about all the little things in life would always fill you with a sense of serene happiness, and sometimes it felt like he was more of a friend than a kid you babysat for. “Well, your dad’s always been awesome,” you chuckled quietly while switching on the TV, surfing through the channels until Davi’s favorite program was on.

Though the boy was quick to interject. “I don’t want to watch TV today… Let's play football together!” he suggested, his voice laced with so much glee and excitement that you didn’t have the heart to say no to him, even though you had absolutely zero agility and were terrible at football. “Alright, I’ll get the football for us…” you pretended to sound unimpressed, but soon broke out into a wide smile when Davi jumped up from his seat with a victorious chant.

“There’s a football in my dad’s bedroom, he said I could play with it if I want.” You contemplated for a while, unsure if it was a good idea to enter Neymar’s bedroom. While he should have been at practice at this hour, meaning that his room was probably empty, the thought of entering his room just seemed like a violation of his privacy.

But before you could ask Davi if he could get the football himself, he had already sprinted off toward the backyard, leaving you all alone in the living room as he yelled out eagerly, “I’ll wait for you outside!” Not wanting to rain on the kid’s parade, you let out a defeated sigh and got up from the couch.

 “I’ll just go in and out. I’ll not touch anything or look at anything inside,” you mumbled under your breath as you made your way up the stairs, trying to convince yourself that this was no big deal. You were only going into Neymar’s room to get the football for Davi - a fully justified reason. And just like Steve Harrington once said, “I’m stealthy, like a ninja.” You’ll go inside, grab the football, and leave - nobody would even notice you were there.

It was all going to be fine.

Walking down the hallway until you reached the room at the very end, you twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

It was not going to be fine.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw in that room. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when your eyes landed on Neymar, sitting shirtless on his bed with his trousers unzipped, hands wrapped around his length as he pumped himself at a steady pace. The way his face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed together like he was nearing his release, and then the next second his eyes flew open and he was looking at you in utter shock.

Everything was happening so fast that your brain literally short-circuited, like your entire body had shut down and rebooted itself. Every muscle within you screamed at you to flee the room, to get the heck out after walking in on such an intimate moment of his - but almost as if your legs had stopped working, you couldn’t bring yourself to move an inch.

All you could do was stare at him, eyes wide and mouth hung open like a deer caught in headlights. Neymar’s hand came to a halt, his facial expression just as dumbstruck as yours, and you had to force yourself not to glance down at the fingers still wrapping around his hardened length.

You blinked once, twice, and finally were able to collect yourself the best that you could manage. “Sir, I’m so sorry for coming inside your room unannounced. I was just here to get something, and I— I didn’t know that you were going to be in here— normally you’d be at practice so…” you began to ramble, strings of words spilling out of your mouth as you frantically tried to apologize.

“I’m just really really sorry, sir,” you apologized one last time, shoulders slumped and head hanging low from the unbelievable amount of embarrassment you were feeling, and also because you wanted to avoid looking at him and his exposed body. Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited for Neymar to say something, anything. 

You expected him to scream at you to get out, to lash out at you for entering his room without knocking, to kick you out of the house for violating his privacy like this. But when he stayed silent, not uttering a single word or exploding in anger like you expected him to, confusion began to gnaw at your mind and the silence became unsettling.

Your name suddenly fell from his lips in a hushed whisper, his voice raspy and laced with a strange, unexplainable tone. The call of your name made you glance up, and what was once a look of surprise and puzzlement on his face was now replaced with one of desire - his lips pulled up in a slanted grin, half-lidded eyes gazing into you like he had something sinister in mind, and you could feel your insides stirring when his hands began stroking up and down again.

“Lock the door and come over here,” Neymar whispered in a hushed voice, and while his words were soft and gentle, underneath them all was hiding a sense of authority, so firm and unmoving that you couldn’t help but comply. His piercing gaze never once left you as you turned to shut the door, clicked the lock shut, and slowly walked over to his bed. “Sit.” One word was enough to make you listen, taking a seat on the corner of his bed as if your body was on autopilot.

The rational side of you would’ve made you leave the room ages ago, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, not when he’s looking at you with unbridled hunger. All you could do was follow his orders and do exactly what he said, like a girl possessed, hypnotized by all that he had, blinded by the need to find out what would happen if you stayed.

Feeling the tension in the air, you swallowed nervously as you desperately tried to figure out what exactly was happening, eyes flickering between his face and the slow pumping of his hand. “Fuck…” he hissed out through gritted teeth, his piercing green eyes now distant and cloudy with lust. “Now watch.”

Every passing second made it harder for you to breathe, to sit still when Neymar’s pleasuring himself right in front of you, and it was damn near impossible to comprehend the fact that he had asked you to stay and watch. Tightening his fingers around his length, he squeezed his throbbing cock as he thumbed his slit in teasing strokes, gathering the precum that had spilled out.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of bending you over and fucking you inside this house,” he exhaled a shaky breath, smirking at the way your breath hitched as the sinful confession fell from his lips. “I’m a sick piece of shit, right? For thinking of my son’s babysitter this way,” he chuckled, but the way his voice sounded didn’t seem like he was at all guilty. 

Words didn’t need to be said for the two of you to know that this was wrong. From the fact that he was jerking off in front of you, the unholy thoughts that he always had whenever you come over, to how you were enjoying all of this no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise. 

Neymar was years older than you. He was in his thirties and you were still in college. He was a world-class football player and you were an ordinary college student still trying to navigate life. Most importantly, he was a father, and you were his son’s babysitter. Your relationship never should have exceeded that, but it did, with him splayed out in his bed, admitting all the filthy thoughts he had of you while you watched him. 

This was wrong - all of this - but neither of you wanted this to stop.

“But you like this shit, don’t you?” he asked you with a knowing glint in his eyes, and the smirk on his lips only seemed to grow wider. You couldn’t find the words to answer him, any sort of coherent thoughts had longed become muddled up inside your head. Though you didn’t have to, because he already knew your answer from the way your breathing picked up and your thighs clenched together. 

“I bet…” he choked out as his head tipped backward, letting out a deep groan while speeding up his hand. “I bet you’d let me fuck you if I asked.” A little gasp escaped your lips, bright eyes flickering with a lustful gleam he had only imagined in the darkest hours of the night. You stayed quiet, nibbling on your lips to prevent the whine lodged in your throat from coming, and that’s all it took for Neymar to know that your answer was a definite yes.

“You’ll let me come inside like a good fucking girl too, won’t you?” The thought alone was enough to make you whimper, clenching your thighs together needily as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing the sinful images to plague your mind - god, how you wished those thoughts were reality instead.

You wondered how his lips would taste like, what his reaction would be if he could feel how soaked you were right now, if he would feel as good as you imagined it to be when he finally slid himself inside you, and how he would look when he finally reached his release, emptying himself deep inside you until you milked him of his very last drop. There was nothing you wouldn’t give for all of this to come true, for him to just touch you where you needed.

Fingers suddenly clasped around your throat, pulling you out of your erotic trance and dragging you back to reality - even though the reality you were in seemed more like a fever dream. “Use your words. Yes or no?” he demanded, and he couldn’t help but admire how good you looked with his hands around you - so good for him, so sweet and breedable.

“Yes, sir,” you answer with a soft whimper, head nodding urgently at his previous question while you relish the firm grip on your neck. “Good girl,” he praised you with a smile before releasing his hold on you. There was a warmth that lingered on your skin even after he had let go, and a part of you wished he had kept his hands there longer, that he had squeezed tighter.

“I bet you’d feel so good wrapped around me… and you’ll let me do whatever I want to you…” He continued to pump himself, cock twitching at the sight of you before him - rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, so worked up and so desperate for him to just touch you. “Please…” you huffed out a pathetic plea, hands gripping tightly on the sheets below you, praying that he would do something to ease the aching need between your thighs.

He smiled - not a friendly one, but the same damned teasing grin he always had on - and had the audacity to coo at you as if he thought you were the cutest thing on earth. “Be patient, baby…” You tried to be patient, you really did, but your patience was running low and you were genuinely going to cry if he didn’t touch you soon. 

A few more rough tugs on his cock and he knew he was nearing his orgasm. “Fuck… gonna come…” he grunted out, rocking his hips up unrhythmically to meet his fist as the bed started to shake. All that could be heard inside his bedroom was the wet squelching of him jerking his cock, the quick and shallow breaths of you both, and the broken moans that rumbled in his throat with each frenzied stroke.

“Sir, please.” That simple sentence was enough to shatter him into a million pieces. A pleasured groan pushed past his teeth as his hips thrust up one last time, body seizing up as jolts of electricity coursed through him in waves of pure ecstasy. You weren’t even touching him, but all he could feel was you - everything else faded into darkness.

White ropes of come spilled from his cock, getting all over his skin and dirtying the white sheets below him. His mouth fell agape, throwing his head back as your name fell from his lips like a mantra, calling you again and again until he completely emptied himself into his fist.

You watched as he fell apart in front of you, refusing to take your eyes off him even for just a second while he drowned in the endless sea of pleasure. “Fuck… that felt so good,” he spoke in a soft murmur, stroking his cock lazily as he collected some of the come splattered on him with his fingers.

Leaning closer to you, he lifted his hand to your lips and pushed his fingers inside your mouth, groaning with satisfaction at the sinful sight - your lips wrapped around him, so good for him, so eager to please. “There you go, my good little girl…” You moaned at the praising nickname he had for you, twirling your tongue around him and enjoying the taste of him.

A strange silence fell upon both of you after he pulled out his fingers, neither of you was saying anything and all you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming in your ears and the ragged breath of Neymar. You could feel his stare on you, dragging his gaze down to your lips, and you wondered if he was going to kiss you.

He leaned in, so close to you that you could almost feel his hot breath fanning against your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut instinctively, but instead, he tilted his head and placed a chaste kiss on your left cheek. 

“I’m off to practice now,” he whispered into your ear, voice low and raspy, and proceeded to get up from his bed. You looked at him with utter confusion, the gears in your head still turning as you struggled to process what exactly had just happened. Was he seriously going to leave? Right now? What about you? 

The ache between your legs only seemed to grow, and the frustration building in your chest was beginning to grow as well, really quickly. “But… Sir…” you tried to think of something, but had no idea what you were even supposed to say in a situation like this.

The smirk evident on his face meant that he knew exactly what he was doing, and was well aware of how mean he was being to you, but he was doing it nonetheless. “Keep being a good girl for me, and maybe next time I’ll give you a little reward.” Sending you a wink, he pulled on his jersey and exited the room.

This motherfucker.

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Your fiancé missing your birthday is the icing on the cake to a horrible couple of months. Now, you’re left to pick up your broken pieces, ending the chapter in your life that includes Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Complete angst all the way through, Kylian being a bad fiancé, fighting, breaking an engagement, lots of crying, cussing, this one’s kind of long so beware. Spoiler: no happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything. — English is not my first language —

Mornings used to be your favorite.

You’d wake up way too early to the sound of Kylian’s alarm for your liking, but it didn’t even matter. The hour or so you got to spend with your fiancé before he left were sacred, it was special. They were filled with easy conversation, tired hugs and sleepy kisses on the shoulder, the occasional quickie, or at least a cheeky squeeze of your ass. It felt like very moment spent together was precious. You felt loved by Kylian so much it made your stomach turn with butterflies just thinking about him.

Now, it felt like those domestic moments were a distant memory. Sure, all couples gradually get less and less lovey-dovey the longer they’re together, but the change was drastic. It was like you barley knew him anymore.

You’ve attempted to start conversations with Kylian about this. Multiple times, in fact. Immediately, he’d get defensive, ending in arguments that kept getting worse and worse. It’s difficult to have to tip toe around your feelings in order to avoid a fight. He stopped making you feel special.

This morning, you woke up knowing it will be a hard day; all alone in your shared king sized bed.

Today is your birthday, and you don’t think Kylian knows this. After many weeks of deep reflection and thought, you know that today might be the last day of your three and a half-year long relationship with Kylian Mbappé — a man who stole your heart and still has it. Once treasured, now barely beating. The diamond sitting on your left ring finger had started feeling like a foreign object, like something your body wanted to reject. It’s lost it’s comfort, now you seemed to lug around old memories you clung onto for dear life.

Kylian didn’t come home last night, though you saw on his private Snapchat story that he was safe, sound, and plastered out of his mind at some club with friends you didn’t even know. He couldn’t find it in him to text you back after 9 o’clock, when that morning he said he would be home no later than 8:30. He found a simple ‘going out, don’t wait up for me’ to be sufficient communication for the night.

You called Kylian, instead it went straight to voicemail. Your texts to him weren’t going through, either. He didn’t have training this morning because the coaches had a conference in London, so you knew he had to be home soon.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen for a bowl of bland cereal and coffee for one.

“Happy birthday to me.” You mumbled, looking down at your sad birthday breakfast. Compared to the last few years where Kylian prepared you a delicious meal, hired a chef, or took you out to the fanciest café in Paris — this meal actually made you lose your appetite.

Across town, Kylian was waking up with a pounding sensation in his head and no recollection of the night before.

“What happened last night?” Kylian grumbled as he woke up to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. His neck had a kink in it from passing out on his friend Paolo’s Airbnb couch in the early hours of the morning, his voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “Fuck.” He covered his face from the blinding rays and felt around for his phone.

He hasn’t gotten drunk that heavily in so long, but when two of his old friends came to Paris for a few weeks, he couldn’t resist giving into their pleads when they’d asked him to tag along for a fun night on the town.

“Bro, you were so drunk last night.” He heard his other friend Bernardo chuckle, his voice almost gone as well from the festivities of the previous night. Kylian sat up, seeing both men looking half dead and clinging onto coffee mugs like a child would cling onto its mothers leg.

The guys chuckled in the kitchen. He smelled eggs cooking but they just made him nauseous. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

“Oh…” Paolo snickered and pointed at the bowl full of rice in the center of his kitchen island. “Yeah, man… I don’t know if the rice did much for it. It’s fucked.”

Kylian shot up toward his cell, not even remembering putting it in the rice last night. He carefully picked it up, the entire screen was shattered.

“Putain…” He attempted to hold down the power button just in case, glancing over to the microwave to see the time. 12:36pm. “Merde!”

He had an important meeting with his PR team about potential sponsorships for next years season at 2 o’clock, and if he showed up sweating whiskey with an obvious hangover, the brand reps might think twice before giving him any deals.

He bid his old friends goodbye but not before promising to go out again soon. A short taxi ride later, he was able to make it back home just a little after 1 o’clock.

Kylian bursts through the front door, booking it toward the shower in your ensuite bathroom, running right past you on the bed without a glance or even a hello.

You’d been trying to decide all day if you were pissed at him or just super sad, but seeing him ignore you that way made you realize that it didn’t matter. He stopped making you happy, making you both pissed and sad — a dangerous combination.

You get up and follow him in there as he hopped around trying to take his skinny jeans off.

“I’m gonna be late.” He panted, sliding inside the shower.

You assumed if he knew he would’ve said something… happy birthday… I love you… I’m sorry…

Curious and resentful, you stand close to the shower door so he could hear you. “Where are you going? I thought we…” You blink tears back, sighing and trying to get control of your wavering voice, “… I thought we could do something tonight.”

This wasn’t even the plan, but you were trying to find anyway for him to redeem himself.

“No, (Y/N). I can’t today, okay?” He snapped. “I’m in a rush. Can you please just pick out a nice outfit for me, quickly.”

You shake your head in disbelief, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your face, sniffling once. Kylian hears this and pokes his head out. “Hey,” his barely softer, “Look, sorry but I’m in a huge rush. It’s been a shit morning.”

“Me too.” You mumble, disappointment laced in your words but Kylian didn’t seem to catch onto it.

“Also, my phone shattered at some point last night, so can you call Thérèse and have her drop me off a new one at the training center?”

You huffed, getting control of your emotions that were simmering into anger. One more chance, you thought as you were about to walk out of the bathroom, you turn. “Do you want to do something when you get home? Maybe even just dinner here, a movie?”

“Maybe.” He said back, turning off the shower. All you could do is roll your eyes and bite your tongue. You were trying to give him every opportunity to come back from this.

You didn’t want to end it, but you promised yourself that if he fucks up today, that was it. You can’t keep hoping he’ll become the person he was before. He won’t listen when you talk anymore or even meet you in the middle. You have too much respect for yourself to settle for someone who can’t appreciate you.

You dry laughed. “Maybe.” You mocked, another angry tear rolling down your face, storming back into the bedroom and getting under the covers, arms crossed.

You wanted to sob, but choked it down when Kylian stormed out of the bathroom, wet and holding his towel up around his waist. “Why are you so moody?” He didn’t even look at you, just shook his head and threw his hand down, exasperated when he realized you weren’t putting an outfit together for him. “I just asked you to help me out.” He tusks. “Are you just going to lay around all day, then?”

You knew this tone. The one where something else was bothering him except he expressed it by nitpicking at anything in front of him. Being with him for so long, you knew how to gently pry out the real reason why he was snappy. Right now, there was no way were you even attempting to help him out in any way.

“Looks like it, huh?” You gritted through your teeth. You could practically feel the eye roll he gave you even though neither of you would look at each other.

He muttered something you couldn’t hear as he walked into the closet, hurriedly throwing on some outfit. “I didn’t feel like fighting today, (Y/N).” He growled and threw on a white hat. “Today has been miserable so far.”

“Miserable for you?” You gaped, face getting angrily red.

“Oh, don’t start.” He spat, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room.

You jumped up and stomped out of the room behind him, seeing him almost at the bottom of the stairs. “Kylian.”

He groaned, continuing to run down the steps. “I don’t have time for a fucking fight right now!”

“Kylian!” You yelled from the railing just as he grabbed the door handle. With an exasperated turn around, he locked eyes with your teary ones. “When you get home… we need to talk.” You didn’t try and hide your sadness this time, knowing how the talk was going to end. The sentence squeaked out, like your forced it.

He paused, taking his hand off the door handle. “Fine.” He said this differently upon seeing your broken demeanor, shuffling in place. Kylian checked his watch, looking back up at you. You stared back, watching him hesitantly leave your shared home.

Kylian knew he’d been fucking up with you lately. Coming home late, forgetting to call or text back, paying less and less attention to you as the season progressed. He knew he was getting too comfortable and at some point stopped putting in any effort. The worst was that he’d been taking his frustrations out on you, shutting you out. He watched as you tried to smile through his snarky and quick comments, feeling bad immediately but he just didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilty emotion.

Your engagement has been a long one. Nine months in and you guys hadn’t even set a date yet. Time kept slipping through the glass, he wondered when the last time you’d even brought up the wedding was — wondering when the last time he even thought about it directly after.

The whole way to work he watched out the window, lost in thought about how he needs to be better. So much so that his driver had to tell him that they’d arrived. He was actually early. With a big fake smile on his face, he did his best to set it all aside, turning on work-mode.

Meanwhile, you had a really nice cry. The kind where you just let it all out because you knew no one was around to hear or pity you. Once you pulled yourself together, you gathered your suitcases from the attic.

It was obvious you couldn’t take everything that was yours. You’d bought so many things for this place, for your shared home… so you focused on the things you were for sure taking with you. All your clothes, makeup, sentimental items, and the fruit bowl you found in a market in Spain were secured inside your bags. You stopped and cried so many times… over a pair of shoes that he bought for you or a picture that brought back sweet memories… all these momentos felt wasted.

Yesterday, you were certain that he would remember what today was. So certain that you convinced yourself you didn’t need to get a hotel. You wished you did, because doing it today felt so final, so depressing. And, upon looking at your empty side of the closet, vanity, side table, bathroom shelf… you had to pull yourself together and be strong. Remind yourself why you’ve resorted to this.

Back at the training grounds, Kylian snapped his last photo-op with the CEO of some athletic wear company, absolutely drained from having to pretend for hours. He had sent his assistant off for a new phone when he saw her, knowing you didn’t text her about him needing one.

He trudged over to Hakimi now that all of that was over, sitting down with a long huff, placing his head in his hands. He hadn’t talked to him all day, being occupied with offers and whatnot.

“Man, I’ve been texting you all day.” He patted his back once, turning to face him.

Kylian looked up at his friend, shaking his head. “It broke last night. Thérèse is out getting me a new one now.”

Hakimi sensed there was something bothering Kylian, but knew not to approach him too strongly. He nodded at his answer. “So, uh… I bet (Y/N)’s pissed, right?”

Kylian blew a raspberry. “Oh, yeah… so pissed…” He nodded with the most exhausted look on his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Well, I mean, Hiba would be pissed too.” Kylian raised an eyebrow, still confused on how he knew about your fight. “You know, if I had to work on her birthday like this.” He laughed at the thought. “I’d have a lot of groveling to do. Or, did you guys plan something on a different day?”

Kylian gazed up at Hakimi, eyes widening with the vague memory of todays date. “Wait.” He gulped, hands hovering over his head. “Is today the…” he flipped the calendar in his mind, praying that Achraf was mistaken about that. “Ah… merde! Putain! Shit!” Kylian smacked the table and bounced up out of the chair, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Hakimi stood too, watching Kylian pace with his hands cradling his head. “No… Kylian, you didn’t…”

He nods, panic settling in hardcore. “I yelled at her today. I asked her why she was being moody. I didn’t come home last night— ah baise moi, mec. je suis un putain d'idiot!” He cursed himself. Ah fuck me, man. I’m a goddamn idiot!

Thérèse speed walked over to the man in crisis, holding a brand new phone. “All your data’s transferred and everything!” She cheered. Kylian probably didn’t even thank her, going directly to his messages with you to text you that he’s so sorry and coming home right now. When he clicked on your icon, he saw all of the messages you sent him last night

You: Ky will u please come home — 9:25 pm

You: I know ur friends are in town and all but I seriously need u with me tonight — 10:48 pm

You: hello?? — 11:51 pm

You: are u okay? Do u need a ride? — 1:35 am

You: I’m getting worried. please just reply. I need to know ur okay Kylian — 1:40 am

You: nice Snapchat story. Good to know ur fucking fine. — 2:46 am

He ran a hand over his face, beginning to sweat with guilt. His eyes lowered on the screen, the small grey message by the keyboard truly making his stomach knot up even more.

(Y/N) stopped sharing their location with you.

His heart fell in his chest, churning… he felt like he was going to puke. Suddenly all of the conversations you tried to start with him about his behavior over the last six months came flooding back. The same conversations he moaned and groaned though, always deflecting until it turned into a fight. God, how badly he had been treating you… like you were a menace in his life — when really, without you, he wouldn’t be able to go on the same.

He began trying to call you and gathered his things, but his calls simply rang until it went to voicemail. “I-I have to go.” He stammered, almost tripping over his feet. Hakimi watched, shocked at the state of his best friend, knowing how he could get sometimes.

Kylian jumped in the town car as fast as his world-renowned legs could get him there, giving the driver instructions to get him home, and quick. The whole way he cussed at slow drivers, construction workers, red lights. He checked his new phone for the time; 10:37 pm and still fifteen minutes away from home.

God, please let her still be home.

He won’t know what to do with himself if you just left.

‘We need to talk’ rung over and over again in his head like a jinx. The way your voice cracked, the tears he saw you hold back. She’s so strong, he thought.

I raised my voice at her. I forgot her birthday and then treated her like she was the problem.

He pinched his leg to distract himself from crying. He has to be level headed, calm, logical, loving, and very apologetic— everything he hasn’t been for the last months. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but can’t imagine what his life, his future will look like if he lets you slip through his fingers.

No girl has ever made him feel like this. Everything he looked for in a woman you embodied tenfold and he fucked it up. He has to fix this.

Kylian didn’t even let the car come to a full stop when he arrived, tripping over his own feet, realizing he left his coat in the back seat but really not caring at all. He just has to know you’re there. He looked toward the driveway, seeing your car still parked in its usual spot.

Thank the lord.

Fumbling with the keys, his shaking hands clicked the door open, seeing only the living room lamp on.

“Bébé?” He called. He saw your figure looking at him from the couch. “Oh, (Y/N)…” he breathed, walking over to get closer. You stoop up, meeting him halfway. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He heaved, breathless from his pounding heart.

The dull yellow light illuminating the side of your face showed him how puffy and red your eyes were, how downturned your usual smile was. He saw what he’d done to you, all the months you’ve had to walk on eggshells, the conversations that he’s turned on you, how he forgot your special day.

You still didnt say anything, keeping your arms crossed, looking him in the eye — the while begging yourself internally not to cave. His sweet eyes knew how to reel you in. You weren’t going to cave. You couldn’t.

“I forgot your birthday…” He whispered sadly, guilt drenched his tone, sending a cold depressing shiver down your spine.

Your eyes brimmed with tears again, but you bit your cheek and shook them away, having to be strong for yourself. “So, you finally remembered.” You sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, bèbè. Time just…” he stopped himself from making anymore excuses, “I’m just a fucking idiot. And I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, voice shaking from nerves.

“But, it’s not just about the birthday, Kylian. It’s been… it’s..–”

“–I know, bébé. I’ve been horrible to you. Truly horrible. You never deserved any of that.” He cautiously lifted his hand to yours, grabbing your fingers. All the words he was going to say suddenly didn’t feel good enough. No I’m sorry is going to feel sufficient.

You looked at your tangled hands, he played with your fingers anxiously, trying to catch your gaze, but it now stayed glued to the floor.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him with teary eyes — that of a wounded puppy. It broke him. “We need to talk.” Your words were laced in false strength, false confidence.

You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do once you leave him. Flying blind isn’t something you did very often, but you knew it’s what had to be done.

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly, trying to guide your hand toward the couch to sit. “Let’s talk. We can talk this all out, right?”

His hopeful tone made your heart break even more. The guiltiness that radiated off of him made it harder to do what you had to… his face fell when you let your hand slip back into your folded arms, turning away from him, sniffling.

“Kylian, I can’t… I can’t sit down with you and hold your hand and let you apologize to me. It’s not how this is gonna go.” Wiping your cheeks roughly, you turned to see his dropped face. “This talk… it’s going to be really hard. For both of us.”

He approached you, putting his hands on your forearms. “You’re scaring me, bèbè.”

Your lip quivered, not knowing how to tell him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Kylian. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you so much, (Y/N). I know we can work through this. I know it.” He pleaded, moving his face around to try and get you to look at him.

“No, Kylian. I love you, but…” You finally looked up, noticing he’d started crying as well. Ouch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Sure, he was scared and sorry about what he did but the possibility of breaking up seemed impossible. Not like he was immune to repercussions, but you two just made sense. He loves you impossibly too much, but he’s forgotten to show you.

Kylian stood in shock, he felt his heartbeat in his teeth, his throat dry. “Don’t say that.” He whimpered. “Please, don’t say that.”

His hands traveled up to hold your face and he bent down to your level, needing you to look at him, to see how regretful he was, how much harder he will work at this. He touched his forehead to yours, wrestling with the temptation of falling down from anguish.

You shook your head between his palms, letting the tears fall freely, a small sob escaping. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, attempting to hold you closer, squeaking out the smallest words; “Bèbè.” “No, no.” “Please.” “I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his wrists, using all your strength to pull them from your face. Immediately, you turned around and grabbed a duffel bag he hadn’t noticed was sitting on the armchair. Your feet took you toward the exit.

“No.” His voice broken, his own face scrunched up and soaked with tears. “No, where are you going?”

It took everything in you not to comfort him, run into his arms, tell him it will be okay.

You pushed your instincts down and turning and shrugged instead, now feet away from the man you love, closing in on the front door. “I’m…” You felt a choking sob threatening to spill out of your mouth and had to look away, silently crying out with your hand covering you mouth. With a deep breath, you continued. “I’m leaving.”

“Well, when will you be back?” In just a few strides, he was back in front of you. He couldn’t help but hold your face again, wiping more tears with a gentle but pleading touch.

You gripped his wrists again, only this time, you weren’t strong enough to pull them away, instead feeling his warm skin one more time.

With a small shake of the head, you responded. “I’m not coming back, Kylian.”

“But… but this is your home. It’s our home.”

“I’m sorry, Kylian.” You finally ripped his hands from your face once more and adjusted the heavy strap on your shoulder. Turning around, your feet drag you to the front door. You reach into your back pocket and take out the house key that’s not longer attatched to your usual tassel keychain and set it down on the table.

He stood there and watched, now feeling helpless in this heart wrenching situation. It doesn’t seem like this is real, he has to be having a nightmare, just watching you leave his life and there’s nothing he can do about it — but it doesn’t stop him from trying, begging. “Amour, no. I can fix this, please just give me a chance to make this right.” He was desperate, once again approaching you.

Kylian sniffled, watching your every reaction, hoping for a glint of anything that would allow him to make it up to you. You looked down at your hands, then your left ring finger… everything in your body was holding you back from taking it off, but you mustered up every ounce of self control.

Kylian looked away as you slid the engagement ring off, hearing the light clink of it being set next to the keys. With his hands at his sides, back slouching, he looked back at your face, nodding in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated in a squeaky whisper.

“Me too.” He nods, looking down at your empty hand. He couldn’t but reach out, trapping your fingers delicately with his fingers, stepping closer.

His arm snakes around your waist, holding you, shaking with his suppressed cries. You allowed yourself to hug him back, to close the chapter, to feel his warm embrace again before you never would again.

The hug lasted for a while, swaying back and forth and crying into each others shoulders. He smelled like he always did, and you noted how hard it would be if you came across his familiar scent again. He also was getting high on your fumes, indulging in the coconut scented shampoo he had become addicted to. The touch of your hands clasping at his back made him cry harder, squeezing you tighter and lovingly.

You pulled back once your cries calmed, sniffling. He stayed close, lifting his eyes to look into yours. Before he knew how to stop himself, he closed in the space, landing his salty lips on yours, closing his eyes. You kissed him back, hating how much you’d miss him. The way his fingers dug into your hips made you lightheaded.

It’s too hard to stop, but you had to. Pulling away, you turned around quickly and left, sobbing all the way to your packed up car.

Kylian was glued in place. His heart had been put through a blender, his head throbbed, his chest was cold without you with him. He saw the flash of your headlights backing out and leaving the property reflect inside the dark and empty home.

He’s miserable, hollow. He’s angry at himself, maybe at you, even if he knows this was his own doing… the whirling in his brain wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the silence after you left — a deafening silence that followed him up to us bedroom, one he now only shared with his thoughts.

It killed him when he saw there was no longer a charger plugged next to your side of the bed, that your slippers were gone from their usual spot by the corner. None of your favorite books were displayed on the shelves, your skincare products left just a ring of residue on the sink. Stepping into the closet, he noticed it still smelled like you, but everything was gone. Everything but the shirts of his that you had stolen through the years, now neatly folded on top of one of his dressers. He wished you had taken them to remember him. He wished he could turn back time and do everything right.

Above all the sadness and the gaping hole is his heart was determination. He fucked up but he wasn’t about to do it again. You would not be the one that got away. It may be the last thing he ever does, but he’ll make it all up to you. He was prepared to go to the furthest lengths to hold you again. But, for now, he needed to wallow in self pity, feel everything that he needs to feel.

Not even on the chilliest Parisian night had his bed felt as cold as it did that day.

A/N: Okay I feel like I kinda dragged that out but angst! I’m contemplating a part 2 but I also kinda like leaving it at this… would y’all want another part? Also, the title is inspired by the song The Loneliest by Måneskin, listen to it after reading. Their new album is so fucking amazing. — Requests for Kylian Mbappé are open! —

[jdbellingham]

The Deal (Part One - “I’ve never seen you look so sexy”)

a 10 Things I Hate About You inspired series featuring Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham(patrick verona) x reader(kat stratford)

summary: a new student arrives at Birmingham City Football Club Academy (BCFCA), Cameron Thomas, who sets his sights on y/n’s sister Caroline. unfortunately for him, Caroline cannot date until her so called “heinous bitch” of sister does. he sets out to do everything he can in order for that to happen, even if that means convincing the academy’s most well known player—Jude Bellingham.

note: here it is as promised. I hope this isn’t too boring

word count: 3k

warnings: sexual jokes (I don’t remember what I wrote), underwhelming lol

“How you doing?” Eric greeted as he approached Jude, who was sweating profusely from the practice he had just left.

Jude stared blankly at him, then turned to his teammates, giving them a look that said “Why the hell is he talking to me.”

Eric, used to being treated like the popular boy he was, felt slightly taken aback by the cold shoulder treatment; yet he managed to continue.

“I just bought a new lighter,” Eric said, trying to start a conversation while also taking a dig at the fact Jude was known for lighting the lawn of a school he had lost a match to in year 10.

“Do I know you?” Jude asked, bringing his water bottle to his lips and taking a long sip.

Eric stopped beating around the bush and began explaining, “You see that girl over there?”

Jude put down his bottle and looked over to where Eric was pointing before responding with a “Yeah,” his voice laden with indifference.

“That’s Y/n L/n,” Eric explained, and Jude gave him a look.

“She’s on my team you idiot,” Jude told him, Eric’s face immediately reddening.

“Right, sorry I forgot she was on Birmingham FC’s EFL team,” Eric reached for the back of his neck before he continued, “I want you to go out with her,”

Jude laughed, incredulous of how a boy he didn’t even know could walk up to him and order him around like that. He pondered for a moment if he should simply walk away and leave the conversation behind, but some small part of him was intrigued by what Eric had to say.

“Yeah, sure,” Jude responded sarcastically, shaking his head while his teammates howled with laughter.

“Look, I can’t take out her sister until Y/n starts dating,” Eric added, “You see, their dad is whacked out, he’s got this rule where his girls-

“That’s a touching story, really is. But it’s not my problem,” Jude cut him off before he could go into more detail, and began packing up his kit.

Nonetheless, Eric remained confident, “Would you be willing to make it your problem if I offered you some generous compensation?”

Jude paused, his eyes shifting back to Eric before he scoffed.

“You’re going to pay me to go out with some bird?” Jude raised his brows, before taking off his practice jersey and slinging it around his neck.

Eric hummed in agreement then Jude chuckled, his head dropping down to face the ground as he stuck his tongue into the side of the cheek.

Jude looked up again before asking “How much?”

He knew he didn’t need the money but what harm could it do? It wasn’t as if Y/n would actually let him take her on a date.

“20 euros,” Eric responded, and Jude scrunched his brows. That wasn’t worth his while.

“No shot,” Jude frowned, “That doesn’t even cover the cost of taking her to the movies,”

“Fine, 30,” Eric countered, crossing his arms.

“75, take it or leave it,” Jude’s voice flattened, he wasn’t going to waste his time doing this if it was for nothing.

“50,” Eric pushed, growing annoyed.

“100,” Jude countered, staring directly into his eyes.

“75,” Eric groaned, exasperation seeping into his voice, handing over the bills.

“Okay, deal,” Jude looked away from Eric and over to where Y/n was practicing her corner goals. She started from the lower left corner of the pitch and her foot lifted to the bottom of the ball, hitting it at the perfect angle and sending it smoothly into the upper right corner of the goal. He had always known that Y/n was good but he never said anything to her, knowing anything he said wouldn’t matter. They worked together smoothly without the unnecessary communication and chit chat, mutually understanding each other's style of play. They became nearly untouchable when put on the pitch together, Jude set her up for goals, getting the ball to her when he could, and Y/n would indefinitely score. And when Y/n was midfielder and Jude was center forward, they would still do the same thing, their roles simply switched. Jude wondered if their bond while playing would be affected by this stupid deal, but he had already started towards her so he wasn’t going to back out now.

“Hi there,” Jude greeted, and Y/n looked him up and down. Her eyes lingered a split second longer on his bare abdomen, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Move,” She ordered, looking away and focusing on the ball. Y/n took a moment to consider the alternate path of sending it into Jude’s crotch just for kicks, but decided against it, remembering the consequences of the last time she’d aimed for a males privates.

“What are you doing?” Jude asked, despite the fact he already knew.

Y/n didn’t respond, instead opting to make another corner kick.

“You already know that, what do you want,” She crossed her arms as the ball swished into the net of the goal.

“That’s certainly a way to get a guys attention,” Jude ignored her previous statement, his eyes focused on the ball she had once again managed to kick into the goal.

“Ah yes, my mission in life. Getting the attention of males,” Y/n agreed, before continuing, “And obviously it worked, seeing as you’re here,”

“The world makes sense again,” She plastered on a phony smile, walking over to get the ball. Jude laughing behind her as he followed, staying within her proximity as she went back to the bleachers to her kit.

“Pick you up on Friday then?” Jude asked, and Y/n responded without missing a beat.

“Oh right, Friday, uhuh,” She nodded, downing a gulp of water before she reached down to the hem of her jersey, pulling it above her head to reveal her sports bra which was damp with sweat. In her mind she wished she had just kicked the ball into Jude’s.

“I’ll take you places you’ve never seen before,” Jude’s brows went up and down and he stared at her back as she bent over to unlace her shoes. He was beginning to enjoy the banter, it was a nice change of pace from the silence broken by an occasional “nice”, “you did well”, or “good job” they usually shared.

“Oh? Like the theatre 4 miles away on Grant?” Y/n asked, unimpressed. She stood straight again, pulling off the light blue pre-wrap on her forehead.

“Do you even know what number I am?” Y/n questioned, eyeing Jude when she put her jersey into her kit.

“12,” Jude answered easily, “I know a lot more than you think,”

“Doubtful, very doubtful,” Y/n laughed, picking up her bag and walking away. For some strange reason, the refusal left Jude only more encouraged.

From a discreet spot in the bleachers, Cameron and Marcus watched the exchange and groaned.

“We are screwed,” Cameron whined, his hopes of dating Caroline felt like they’d be dashed.

“Hey I don’t want to hear that defeatist attitude,” Marcus demanded.

“We are screwed!” Cameron exclaimed, and Marcus nodded in approval.

“Better,”

Cameron had gone through the effort of becoming the practice partner of Caroline, Y/n’s sister, and talked to her only to find out that she could only date if Y/n did. Then he had managed to get the academy’s most affluent player to approach Jude (more like inceptioned him to), knowing he wouldn’t listen to Cameron himself—only for Jude to fail. If this didn’t work he had no other options left.

“If Jude can’t do this himself we need to help him,” Cameron finally spoke, looking to Marcus who hummed in agreement.

Cameron knew that Y/n was difficult, when he had spoken to Caroline she had explained that Y/n used to be popular, but at the end of year 11 something had flipped. It was like she was sick of it or something, and she began dedicating all her time to football. It paid off, she was one of the best strikers in the league, the men’s league she had somehow gotten into. She was so good that Birmingham Academy decided to put her on their EFL team, but of course it came with the price of her becoming a heinous bitch (Marcus’s words not Cameron’s).

˚ ✧ ˚

The next day Jude found Y/n on the football pitch during the free period they happened to share, and sat by her school bag watching as she did passing drills around a set of bright orange cones.

It was normal to see her at the pitch during the middle of the day, she was known for practicing every possible moment.

When she finally finished up and went to grab her water, she saw him staring at her.

“Nice passes,” Jude complimented before she could let out the string of complaints she probably had waiting to be let out. “You’re quick on your feet,”

“Are you following me?” Y/n scoffed, grabbing her water that was situated next to Jude.

“I was going to get my jacket, and saw you were practicing. I decided to come say hi,” Jude shrugged, feigning disinterest.

“Hi,” Y/n replied, obviously glaring at Jude.

“Not a talker, huh?” Jude remarked watching as Y/n began changing. She didn’t quite care that he was there, letting him watch as she switched her athletic shirt for a tank top. However he averted his gaze when Y/n switched her soccer shorts for denim ones.

“Depends on the topic,” She replied, “Passing drills don’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy,”

“You’re not afraid of me are you,” Jude said, half a question half a statement.

“Why would I be afraid of you,” Y/n laughed, folding her clothes and putting them into her bag.

“According to popular belief, I lit a school on fire because I was a sore loser. So most people are,” Jude replied, standing up.

“Well I’m not,” Y/n responded, slinging the bag over her shoulders. She noticed how Jude had purposefully shifted to block her from exiting the field.

“Well maybe you’re not afraid me but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked,” Jude suggested smiling coyly.

“Am I that transparent?” Y/n asked, acting shocked. “I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” She groaned while rolling her eyes, and Jude found his smile growing wider, his laugh genuine.

Y/n pushed past him and out of the football pitch, and Jude let her. He stared as she walked away, realizing that he had grown a liking to her. When she was finally out of sight he shook his head, wondering how on earth he had managed to start fancying the most out of control girl he had ever met.

˚ ✧ ˚

“We know what you’re trying to do with Y/n L/n,” Cameron said over the loud commotion of the craft room, Marcus nudging him forward.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Jude replied unfazed, continuing to saw away at a piece of wood.

“We want to help,” Cameron replied, and Jude’s eyes didn’t budge from the wood.

“And why is that?” Jude inquired, finally giving the pair a glance.

“The deal is that my friend here has a major jones for Caroline L/n,” Marcus paused, waiting for Jude to say something.

“What is it with that girl?” Jude muttered, it seemed as if everyone wanted a piece of her.

“I uh, I think I speak correctly when I say Cameron’s love is pure, purer than let’s say Eric’s,” Marcus continued, to which Jude answered.

“Look I’m in this for the cash, Eric can plow whoever he wants,”

“Okay there will be no plowing,” Cameron interjected, getting heated. Jude sniggered under his breath at the year 12 boy.

“Jude, let me clear one thing up—we set this whole thing up so Cameron, yeah Cameron, could get Caroline. Eric’s just a pawn,” Marcus elaborated.

“So you’re going to help me tame the wild beast?” Jude quirked a brow, and glanced over at the duo again.

“Absolutely. We’ll do research, find out what she likes and get back to you. We’re your guys,” Marcus smiled, grabbing Cameron’s shoulder who added:

“In a strictly non group of arsonist buddies type of way,”

Jude stared at Cameron, not sure whether to laugh or punch him.

“Uh, sorry. Now, Friday night Bogey Lowenstein is having a party. Perfect opportunity,” Marcus shifted the conversation before Jude could react.

“Perfect opportunity for what?” Jude asked, his full attention now on Marcus.

“For you to take out Y/n,” Marcus gave a doubtful look.

“I’ll think about it,” Jude replied, though he had already made up his mind.

˚ ✧ ˚

Marcus and Cameron arrived at the locker room Jude had told them too, Cameron having just snooped through Y/n’s dorm with the help of Caroline.

Jude arrived shortly thereafter, out of breath from running there after his practice ended.

“So what have you got for me?” Jude asked, his hands at his sides, chest going up and down as he panted.

“A little insight into a very complicated girl,” Cameron replied, crossing his arms and leaning into a locker.

“All right, first thing. Y/n hates chapped lips,” Cameron cleared his throat, looking at Jude’s lips which were thoroughly dry.

“So you’re telling me I use chapstick,” Jude raised his brows, subconsciously licking his lips.

“Yes, well—just for now,” Marcus explained.

“And um, here’s another problem, Caroline says Y/n likes pretty guys,” Cameron added, looking from Marcus back to Jude.

Jude stared blankly at the two for a few moments before saying “Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?”

“He’s very pretty!” Marcus immediately countered, and Cameron followed with a “Yeah yeah I just wasn’t sure—I didn’t know,” the pair of them playing it off.

Jude visibly relaxed, and Cameron took it as a sign for him to continue. “Alright, uh yeah, okay here’s this,” Cameron reached into his back pocket and pulled out a list.

“Likes: Thai food, feminist prose, and angry girl music of the indie rock persuasion. Here’s a list of CDs she has in her dorm,” Cameron handed the list over.

“So I’m supposed to buy her some noodles and a book and sit around listening to girls who can’t play their instruments right?” Jude remarked sardonically.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favorite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Marcus answered, and Jude’s face paled.

“I cannot be caught at Club Skunk, alright?” Jude pursed his lips into a thin line.

“But she’ll be there, she’s got tickets,” Cameron pushed back.

“Assail your ears for one night,” Marcus joined in, and Jude caved.

Dear lord what had he gotten himself into.

˚ ✧ ˚

Jude arrived at Club Skunk, not quite believing that he was spending his evening at a club full of girls. He pushed his way through the crowd, the music growing louder the further he got into the club.

Eventually he spotted Y/n, who was dancing in a black spaghetti strapped satin dress. He smiled at the sight, and stared as Y/n began laughing with a friend.

He found himself fixated on her, this was a side of Y/n he had never once seen revealed before. And he liked it.

His dark doe eyes filled with adoration as Y/n smiled brightly and cheered when the song changed, before he came to his senses and went to the bar, knowing she would eventually come there.

“Bellingham! What are you doing here tonight?” Huxley, the bartender, greeted. He knew Jude and his mates from his days at the local pub.

“Oh you know, just here for the girl,” Bellingham grinned, then asked for water.

A good few minutes later, Y/n came up to the bar, asking Huxley for 2 waters. As she stood there waiting she glanced to the side, noticing Jude sitting at a stool, inconspicuously staring at the band on stage.

She immediately frowned, and after paying for the drinks she approached him.

“If you’re planning on asking me out again you might as well get it over with,” She said loudly, barely audible over the noise of the club.

“Do you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me,” Jude said right as she finished talking, and Y/n raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Your lips aren’t as chapped as they usually are,” Y/n noticed, changing the subject.

“I know, I started using chapstick, it was about time I got a tube,” Jude replied, continuing to act nonchalant when he knew he was an imposter in this club.

“You think?” Y/n laughed, her eyes focused on Jude’s mouth.

“You know these guys are no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” Jude remarked, bringing up other musicians he knew Y/n liked, adding “But they’re not bad,” before he stood up and started walking away.

Y/n’s smile stuck to her face, but it was a puzzled one, she stood fixated to her spot for a second before she ran to catch up to Jude.

“You know who the Raincoats are?” She demanded, her eyes squinted in puzzlement.

“Why, don’t you?” Jude shot back, pretending as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him to know who they were.

A series of fed up expressions crossed Y/n’s face, and Jude proceeded to keep talking as the song currently played ended.

“You know I was watching you out there,” Jude commented, his voice straining to be heard over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy,” The second part came out just as the song finished, and the whole club heard and began laughing.

Y/n let out a chuckle, beaming at Jude. Jude’s head leaned low, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to kiss her before he pulled his head a bit back.

“Come to Bogey’s party with me,” Jude suggested, and Y/n moved her head from side to side.

“You never give up, do you?”

“Was that a yes?” Jude asked, voice loud again as a new band started playing.

“No,” Y/n shouted, walking away.

“Was that a no?” Jude yelled after her, keeping his gaze focused on her as she disappeared into the crowd.

“No!” Y/n replied, and Jude’s lips pulled upward into the largest smile he’d ever had.

SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE!! I’ll write for Jude and Neymar (Jude preferred tbh 🤭) and if it’s another player, message me and if I have enough slots I’ll write a fic just for you 😁

note: I am so sorry that took so long to come out, I wrote like 5 different variations of this and this was the best and it’s still underwhelming so I’m super sorry. part two will be written if people actually want it

taglist! : @raspberii @xaelia-au @mxyzptlkss @nonaism @itsmevalery @neysl0ver @crowdthena @qvirky-y @azvault @britneysbitch @futbol10 @cooloperajudgebear @lomlcherry @slvt4peterparker @saywhatiwants @richarlisonluvr @milkteabish @kyekai @jinjidontucry @wavessmile @angelxxrose @meehhangryfun @fezlvr @wonderharryy @graysondolansmaid @hazalnut @enjoymyloves @njn4118 @guska0

click here to be added to my taglist!!

I’m so sorry if you see your name on the taglist but weren’t tagged, it says your blog doesn’t exist but it’s probably because you have a private blog i don’t follow so I’m not allowed to tag!

[hamiltonaf]

Daddy Duties | Neymar Jr.

Pairing: Dad!Neymar Jr. x Mum!Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: None

A/N: The baby fever is real…send help. This is based on this old video that went viral many years ago, I hope it rings a bell. This video kills me till this day and I just had to put something together. Enjoy .xoxo

Neymar was on a 2 week break from playing, which coincidentally happens to be at the same time that I’m back at work.

Neymar was on a 2 week break from playing, which coincidentally happens to be at the same time that I’m back at work.

Neymar was on a 2 week break from playing, which coincidentally happens to be at the same time that I’m back at work.

Neymar was on a 2 week break from playing, which coincidentally happens to be at the same time that I’m back at work.

I know that I have the option to not work, as Neymar had reminded me many times, but I won’t lie in saying that I enjoy working. I always wanted to have money of my own and I enjoy being in a different environment compared to being at home 24/7. Neymar would spend most of his time at home after practice or working out during the day, he’s also big help in looking after our daughter whilst I’m away.

Our daughter is 2 and a half years old, clearly a mini us since she was a dancer, she had the curls and not forgetting her humour just like her mum.

I woke up at 6am, of course both father and daughter were still sound asleep beside me. He had an arm wrapped around her small frame whilst her head was snuggled closely to his chest. The perfect view to wake up to if you ask me because my heart is actually melting at all this cuteness.

After having a shower I got dressed into a black pant suit and quickly straightened my hair. I slipped on my heels and walked back over to the bed, "Goodbye my baby's" I sang as I pecked Neymar’s cheek and crawled over him to peck our baby girl. She then stirred in her sleep before fluttering her eyes open. I stood up still as I watched her sit up and rub her eyes. She then looked up at me and held her arms out for me to carry her. "Mama" she cried as she looked at me.

"Aww pumpkin, Mama has to go now" I said as I held her closely and moved from side to side in hopes she would fall back to sleep. "Ney" I whisper yelled. He hummed in his sleep as I shook my head, these two. "Please distract her whilst I leave" I said as I watched her eyes slowly closing. He hummed again in a reply, I laid her down on his chest as I walked over to the dresser table to grab my bag.

Just before I can close the door behind me, I watched him lay her flat on his chest as he lightly patted her back to fall asleep. So much for telling him to distract her...but they're so cute. I smiled at the two of them before closing the door behind me. I grabbed an apple on my way out to the car before driving off to work.

Work today was no different to how it was last year, it was a drag and a bit boring but thanks to a work friend of mine for the past year, Olivia, she made work fun as she'd occasionally crack jokes and she'd fill me in on the latest tea that's going on in the office. Bless her. She's honestly the best, I feel like I've known her for a year, if it wasn't for her then I'd honestly dread going to work - which I do already - but she makes me look forward to going.

After finishing off my work I switched off my computer and neatened my desk before grabbing my hand bag, and making my way to the car park. As I reversed out of the car park, luckily my phone was connected through Bluetooth in the car. I had my daily mix playlist on Spotify playing to keep me going for the drive home.

I was about 5 minutes away from home, I decided to call Neymar to just check up on him and my little pumpkin. After 2 rings he answered the phone, "Hey baby" he answered. "Heya babe, just checking what my faves are up to" I smiled. "I'm just looking for some food to give (Y/D/N)" he said as I could hear the fridge or cupboard closing in the background. "Where's Carolina and everyone else ?" I asked confused, usually his whole entourage’ is always around. "They just left a while ago to go out to eat" he said. "Ohh…why didn’t you go ? You couldn’t taken (Y/D/N) along with you” “I know I know… but then I’d end up coming home late…I just want to be with my girls” he said. I cooed. “Awww Ney. Well I already can’t wait to come home now to spend time with you guys !” I squealed. “Okay I’m gonna be home in a bit. Her porridge is in the cupboard next to the fridge. Instructions are on the box, it’s not rocket science. You think you can do it ?” I challenged. “Uhh yes ! I can do anything” he scoffed. “Best of luck with daddy duties. Mwah. Ciao” I said lastly before ending the call.

As I pulled up in front of the driveway, my heels clicked against the wooden floor as I entered the house. "I'm home" I sang as I closed the front door behind me. I placed my handbag onto the kitchen counter, Neymar was still rummaging through the cupboard whilst his music was blasted. I shook my head as I walked up behind him and placed the porridge box in front of him. “Oh” he said to himself, then turned to look at me. “Thank you” he pecked my lips. “It’s okay, I’ll do it” I said as I took the box from him. “No no no, I’ll do it” he insisted as he took the box away from me. “You sure ?” I raised a brow as I walked around to lean on the kitchen counter and face him. “Okay…can you show me like one time and I’ll do it on my own from now on ?” He pouted as he tilted his head to the side. “Sure” I broke into a smile then walked back around to prepare the porridge.

As I did so, I could feel his stare on me the whole time. “I hope you’re learning something and not just staring at me” I said as I turned to look at him. "Do you always dress like this for work ?" He caught me off guard and raised a brow. "Looks like you never notice me" I said playfully.

He scoffed, "Of course I do ! You just look different. Hotter and a sexier looking mama" he smirked as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Thank you babe…Gotta look like I'm still trying to find a man" I had on a cheeky grin. His grip loosened. "I'm just kidding !" I said as I turned to kiss his cheek. "I'd like to see which man tries his luck with you because the first thing he'd be seeing is my fist" he mumbled into my neck. "An angry Neymar…hmm don’t see that often" I trailed. “All the better” he joked as he released his grip from me and leaned on the counter. “It sounds hot, I wanna see the other side of him” I wiggled my brows. He smirked and cupped my cheek before placing his lips on mine. Before things got heated, it hit me that I didn’t see (Y/D/N) yet. “Babe- where’s (Y/D/N) by the way ?” I asked concerned as I broke away from the kiss. “Let me go get her” he jogged to the lounge where she last was, watching her favourite Cocomelon.

Neymar took a while and I started to grow worried. I left the porridge then hurriedly ran to the lounge, and Neymar wasn’t there. “Ney, where is she ?” I yelled. He jogged back to the lounge from the hallway and looked back to the sofa, "She was just there on the couch". She obviously wasn't there. "Baby girl !" I yelled for her as I looked around the dining room. All the doors are locked so she couldn't have went outside so she must be upstairs. "My sugar pop ! Mummy's home" I said as I walked into our bedroom. "I'm here !" She yelled as she walked out of our closet. I could cry laughing at the sight of her in front of me. She had on my thong, but the waistband of it was on her shoulders, basically looking like she has suspenders.

“Ney !” I yelled for him. "What are you doing ?" I asked her as I placed my hand on my hips as I stifled a laugh. "Nothing" she smiled. "Honey, please take it off" I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. "No" she said. "Yes" I said back. "It's a bra" she said as she held onto the waist band. "It's not a bra !" I argued. "Yeah" she said sassily as she turned around to walk back to our closet. I couldn't hold in my laugh any longer and I burst out laughing. "OH MY GOD !" I yelled as I kicked off my heels and walked into the closet. The thong basically gave her petite bum a wedgie. I'm dead. I laughed so hard that I literally started tearing up.

[holygrailimagines]

Friends with Benefits

Summary: Neymar and reader are friends with benefits, SMUT!

It started a few months ago. You and Neymar, along with some mutual friends, decided to throw an absolute rager. The house was huge, the music was blaring, and the lights were flashing. You had worn a tight baby blue dress that hugged your body perfectly. After many drinks, you had loosened up and found yourself dancing intimately with Neymar. The two of you had been friends for a while and you would be lying if you said you’ve never grinded up on him at a club, but something was different about this time. You could practically feel the sexual tension between the two of you. The way his large hands rested firmly on your hips and the soft breaths he breathed into your neck made you weak. Even after stepping off the dance floor, the tension grew. Neymar’s eyes scanned your body seductively and he held you close to his chest, whispering that the two of you should head upstairs. And you did. 

You can still remember that night, clear as day. The way you giggled as he slipped off your dress, him instantly kissing the soft skin revealed. How you clumsily undid his belt, him staring down at you with lustful eyes. You could still feel the soft covers as your bare chest was pinned down on the bed, your fists clenching the sheets. The way Neymar tightly held your arms behind your back, drilling you into the bed. You remembered the harsh slaps he gave your ass as he grunted, speeding up to reach his end. You remember hearing him moan as his warm cum splattered on your back, whimpers escaping your mouth. When you awoke the next morning and turned to see Neymar’s exposed body next to you, you nearly screamed. You knew what had happened, but you didn’t know how this would affect your friendship with him. You stealthily crept out of bed and reached for the discarded baby blue dress on the floor when his voice practically made you jump out of your skin. 

“Onde vais?” (Where are you going?) He asks tiredly, his voice hoarse from the night before. You frantically covered yourself with the dress. 

“I’m so sorry,” You blurted out, quickly turning to see his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, asking you what the hell you were talking about. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship like this. This should have never happened.” You explained, the last part being a complete lie. If you could, you would absolutely relive last night’s events. He shook his head no, taking you by surprise. 

“(Y/N), I still care and love you as a friend. You didn’t ruin anything.” He says, quickly sitting up. He pats the bed, “come here,” and you maneuver yourself carefully to make sure the dress covers your intimate parts. He chuckles at this. 

“Meu anjo, you’re acting like I haven’t seen you naked.” He jokes and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

Since then, you both had a mutual agreement that sex was a part of your friendship. It was weird, sure, but it was also exciting. You didn’t even have to say anything to each other, and you knew when and where to do it. One time, you were visiting him at football practice when he suddenly gave you that telltale smirk and you knew immediately to retreat to the locker rooms. There, he had your back pressed against the cold lockers. You held onto his broad shoulders; your legs wrapped around his waist. His cock grazed the sweet spot inside of you with each thrust. You had to bite your lip, drawing blood, to ensure a peep didn’t leave your mouth. He stared down at where your tight cunt welcomed his thick cock, your tits bouncing as he rutted himself inside you. It was a quick but rough session. 

Another time, he had invited you and a couple of friends for dinner. This one took you by surprise because it was in the middle of dinner. Under the table, his hand was placed on your thigh, and he slowly trailed it up, getting dangerously close to your aching pussy. That night was spent in his bedroom, your arms pressed down on his chest as you rode his huge cock. His hands gripped your thighs, delivering an occasional slap to your ass. You arched your back, grinding on his dick and using all your power to bring yourself up and slam back down on him. After some time, he would help you, thrusting his hips up into you. You reached down with one hand, rubbing your bundle of nerves as you came undone. You shivered, collapsing onto his chest as your juices covered his cock. You weren’t really sure how long this whole thing would last, but you were sure that you didn’t want it to end.

[graveyardvalentinee]

hii can you do where reader comes back home crying because of people at work making fun of her and saying bad stuff about her relationship with ney

of course lovely :)) thank you so much for your request !! I’m not sure if by “people at work” you meant her co-workers or customers but I just made it where the customers were being rude.

—————————

consequences / neymar jr

pairing : neymar x reader

When I said yes to Neymar after he asked me be his girlfriend , I didn’t realize all the criticism it would come with.

We met at my job - a jewelry store. He had went in looking to buy a birthday gift for his mom , I just happened to be the only available employee.

I didn’t know who he was at first , until after he had asked for my number and left. My co-worker basically screamed once I told her and she revealed to me who he was.

And after that everything was history between us. He was the best boyfriend I could ever ask for , the best partner I could ever have.

He had his own way of loving , and it’s one of the main things that made fall for him so quickly.

He’s easily a charmer.

On our first couple of dates he would always surprise me with small gestures - flowers , books that I had mentioned I wanted, small jewelry pieces , and much more.

I would always protest and insist how he didn’t have to buy me any of that stuff - that those weren’t the reasons why I accepted to going out with him but he would always brush me off , saying how he wanted to give me all these things.

He showers me with compliments any chance he gets , making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

I also deeply enjoy his touchy side. Kisses everywhere - no matter where we are or what we’re doing. His hands somewhere on me at all times when we were together. He claims he can’t sleep properly through the night if I’m not there next to him - or wrapped in his arms.

But all that aside - he’s very attentive to me and my feelings.

He always makes my feelings valid , he always insists on talking everything out with me. I don’t think there was ever a time where he’s been unthoughtful towards me.

I was iffy at first - to open up to him about everything but he made me feel so welcome in his embrace , and I easily was able to tell him anything that would be wrong with me.

But today - that all changed. I had never dealt with hatred towards me like this before.

When me and Ney started our relationship I made it clear to him I still wanted to have a normal life - I didn’t want him to expose me to the media.

Sure he would post pictures of us , but none ever showing my face.

We thought we were safe up until 2 weeks ago when the paparazzi took a clear picture of me and ney outside his house.

I tried covering my face once I noticed the paparazzi but it was too late.

The media soon found out who I was through Neymars following - I made the stupid decision of not making my account private.

My co-worker had tagged me in a photo of a work party we had - also tagging the location. I’m guessing that’s how Ney’s die hard fans found my job.

Every day since then it was a lot more busy , people specifically requesting me to take their orders.

When the pictures got out to the public , Ney insisted I quit my job and just let him work for the both us - something he’s been trying to make me do for moths.

But me being me - I told him nothing about his fans going to my job and acted as if the paparazzi spotting us changed nothing in my life.

I now realize that was a stupid mistake.

Earlier today I was helping two girls who had walked in and came straight to me for assistance. One blonde and another brunette , both seeming to be around 16 or 17.

It was all going swell until the questions started.

“So Y/N - how did you manage to snatch Neymar all for yourself ?” The brunette asks.

“I don’t discuss my personal life with customers.” I tried to remain as calm as possible , giving them a small fake smile. This was the first time anyone had actually mentioned our relationship to me.

The brunette looks at her friend , turns back to me and laughs.

“No seriously - are you like a you know service girl of some sorts ?” The blonde asks me now, whispering the last part.

Is this what people think of me?

“Excuse me? I am not!” I fight back , trying to hold back any tears. I have no idea what to do or say.

“Come on , Neymar couldn’t have seriously chosen you for no reason - I mean just look at you. You don’t have much to offer.” The blonde continues , her eyes raking down my figure , gaze filled with disgust.

I shamefully look down. My hands start to shake and no words come out of my mouth.

The girls start to snicker to each other. I can’t make out all the words that their saying because of their low tone but I do hear the words -

“If I knew Neymar went for the first hooker he saw on the street I’d been on that street months ago.”

“Security ! Please escort there two girls out.” I finally get the courage to speak.

“What ? We haven’t done anything! We’re simply shopping for a pair of earrings.” The blonde says , putting on a fake voice.

I look up at our security - Marcus , me and him get along very well and he’s been very aware of all the fans coming in and out of the store.

I mouth a “please” to him , just wanting these girls gone as soon as possible.

“Ladies please do not make me drag you out of the store. The exit is that way.” Marcus firmly says.

The two girls look at me and roll their eyes before walking out of the store.

I grab all of my stuff from the back room and clock out , not caring to warn anyone about me leaving.

I get into my car and rush home. As soon as I step into the house I burst into tears , letting myself fall on the floor.

When I left the store I didn’t even check the time - 5 pm.

The exact time Neymar gets home from practice.

My mind was so fogged with everything that had just occurred I didn’t even have time to notice Neymar on the couch.

His eyes look up and meet mine. He rushes up off the couch and comes to my side.

“Amor what’s wrong ? Por que minha linda garota está chorando?” He softly says holding me in his arms. [why is my pretty girl crying ?]

I’m so dumb. I should have went to my friends house or something instead of coming here. The last thing I wanted was to tell Neymar about the humiliating things they told me at work.

I bring my hands up to my face and wipe my tears off , trying to get out of his tight grasp.

“It’s nothing Ney , I’m fine.”

“Y/N everything is obviously not fine. I’m not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong.”

“I’m serious querido , everything is fine.” I try to get the words out and put a smile on my face but my tears betray me.

My thoughts going back to what those girls said of me , making me cry ever harder.

“Look at me” he whispers.

I look up into his eyes , my vision blurry with tears.

“Take your time amor. I’ll wait here for you to tell me what is wrong , you know I am always here for you. What ever it is you are going thru I won’t leave your side.”

He won’t budge , and it’s no use to keep it in , im sure those girls will upload the conversation we had to the media and Ney will find out one way or another.

“These - these -” I try to get out but more tears end up falling.

“Breathe amor breathe , I’m here for you , I’m right here.” He whispers , kissing my temple.

I take in a deep breath and finally calm myself. Ready to tell Neymar everything that had been happening.

“Ever since the pictures got leaked there’s been more and more customers coming into the store , specifically requesting me to take their orders - I’m sure you can figure out why. Everything was fine tho , no one asked any questions just eyed me a lot and looked very excited to be assisted by me. Until today - these two girls came in and told me the most horrible things.”

I can tell he’s bothered by me not telling him about the customers coming in but I continue before he has a chance to scold me about that.

“They asked me -”

“God. They asked me if I was your whore. They said I had to be a worker in that department of some sort because there’s no way you’d choose me out of thousands of girls.”

“Y/N -”

“Before you get mad at me for not telling you about all the people coming into my job , I’m sorry I really am - I should have spoked up earlier. I now see you are right about the whole quitting my job thing.”

“Meu amor I could never be mad at you , specially over something like that.” He begins

“What those girls said is no where near true and we both know it. You know why I chose you-”

“Do I really know why tho? Why did you chose me Neymar? You could have any woman you want.” I interrupt , a wave of insecurity going over me.

He drops his arms from around me and helps me to stand up , walking me over to the couch. He sits down and grabs my arms causing me to straddle his lap ,bringing one of his hands up to the side of my neck and letting the other rest on the outside of my thigh. Reaching up he gives my forehead , cheeks , and lips a small kiss before speaking -

“I chose you because when I walked into that jewelry store my eyes went straight to you. I could not take my mind off of you for the next week after that. I had to make you mines. I found any stupid excuse to go back there and just speak to you.”

“You have changed my life im so many unexplainable ways Y/N. There’s no other woman that I could ever dream of when I have you right here - all for me. You are the light of my life. I love and adore every single thing about you , you have bewitched me mind and soul.”

“I like to believe you were made just for me because there is no other woman on this earth that can make me go crazy like you. I will continue to show you-”

He leans forward laying gentle kisses on my neck.

“Every single day-”

His hand on my thigh starts slowly finding its way to my clothed center.

All my thoughts from what those girls told me earlier completely vanished , my focus now being on Neymar’s words and his hands making every inch of my body hot with desire.

I can tell he’s doing this to take my mind off things and it’s definitely working.

“That you are -”

I can feel his hard on under me so I decide to move forward - just a bit to tease him.

“The most utterly breathtaking-”

His hand at my neck now making its way to my behind , giving it a tight squeeze , causing me to roll my hips forward onto him again.

“And perfect woman for me.”

His face comes up from my neck before he smashes his lips on mine , i kiss him back immediately with everything in me.

I pull away to look him in the eyes and wrap my hands around his neck.

“I’m tired of us hiding linda. Eu te amo , e você merece ser mostrada como a beleza que você é.” [I love you and you deserve to be shown of like the beauty you are]

“Eu te amo mais.” I say back pecking his lips.

“And okay amor you win. But I’m really going to miss our privacy time together.” I add.

His hand leaves my center and comes up to my behind , giving me a squeeze before picking me up , causing me to squeal.

“We can have privacy time all the time princesa, just give me a heads up , the answer is always yes.” He says smirking before carrying me up the stairs while ripping off all my clothes.

“You’re crazy Ney.”

“Only for you meu amor.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n : okay first off - i had to use the pride and prejudice quote i just had to. i know it’s definitely not something ney would say but this is all fiction so let’s imagine like he would lolll.

also i feel like i drag out these imagines a little too long or i go a lot into detail , that’s how i like my writing but if you guys do feel like their a bit long please let me know and ill make them short or if you guys enjoy them this length or even want them longer please let me know.

finally thank you again for who ever sent in this request i really appreciate you taking interest in my writing and thank you guys so much for 100 followers ♡

[sorceresski]

The Babysitter | Neymar Jr

Inspired by another fic I read by @

This gif is so hot…😵‍💫

Reblogs help push my fics out, thank you!☺️

“Do you want this?”

Pairing: Neymar x young!fem reader (reader in their early to mid 20s)

Summary: Weeks of teasing between Neymar and Davi’s babysitter reach a crescendo as Neymar comes home tipsy after a loss seeking comfort and an outlet.

Tags: sexual contact, teasing, babysitter reader, oral! fem receiving, age gap, there will be sexual intercourse, slow burn, a long read I guess

Minors dni

You expected him to walk in any moment now, already anticipating his sour mood which you had come to observe first hand over the past few weeks working as his babysitter. You had watched PSG’s match curled up with Davi in front of the tv in Neymar’s Parisienne penthouse and calling the team’s performance underwhelming would be an understatement. The match ended 2 nil against psg and Neymar had been given a red and sent off the field.

That was 2 hours ago anyway. Now, Davi had dosed off on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder. You began to plan your course of action for when Neymar returned, wanting to keep as much distance between you and him as much as possible.

These days you didn’t trust yourself around him. Neymar was an attractive man and if you didn’t know better you would say he was flirting with you. It began a week after you started babysitting Davi. You were sitting on the floor of Davi’s room, watching him “paint". The top you wore wasn’t particularly revealing but as you hunched over the low table, the girls were very visible(you didn’t know this at the time). You didn’t notice Neymar at the door till Davi looked up and shouted

“Daddy!" Abandoning his paint brushes.

You looked up in surprise, just in time to catch his eyes leave your chest as he looked at Davi. You decided not to dwell on how long he had been standing there watching you two. But in the weeks that followed, you began to feel his gaze as you walked past, stolen glances, “accidentally” walking in on him in a towel fresh after a shower and winks when he said goodbye to you and Davi.

You realised your mind had wandered when you heard shuffling outside the door. It was a few minutes to 12am when Neymar walked in, eyes slightly glazed over, tossing his duffle to the side. The apartment was dimly lit so you couldn’t read his expression as he stopped in his tracks after noticing you on the couch.

"Welcome!” You said, standing up hurriedly. He blinked at you, swaying slightly. He was tipsy. “I’ll take him in," you gestured to Davi. You heaved the boy up and made a beeline to his bedroom, not waiting for a response from Neymar.

You took your time tucking him in and when you came back, Neymar was by the kitchen sink gulping down a glass of water, his jacket tossed on the couch.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here." His gaze was piercing. "You should’ve gone, I’ll pay you for the extra time"

You looked everywhere but at him.

“It’s fine. I stayed because Davi wanted to stay up to watch the match, so he slept later than usual. I’ll just grab my things and go.”

Neymar nodded, turning to head for his room.

"Let me know when you’re about to leave.”

Five minutes later, you were stood outside his bedroom, with your purse and jacket hanging on your arm. You took a shaky breath and knocked.

“Come in”

The room was dark illuminated only by the city lights flooding in though the big windows facing the street. You froze at the entrance when you saw him. He was in front of a full length mirror in sweatpants, a very defined V disappearing below the band.

“Close the door,” he spoke, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You gulped and stepped in, wondering why you were suddenly so obedient.

He stalked towards you. You didn’t know you had unconsciously stepped back until you felt the door knob dig into your back. You felt the heat radiating off him as he came impossibly close. Neymar touched your chin, dragging your eyes from your feet to his. Your breath hitched in your throat.

He leaned in and slumped on your shoulder with a sigh, wrapping his hands around your waist pulling you even closer. As if programmed, you dropped your purse and jacket and wrapped your hands around his shoulders breathing in his scent.

In the mirror behind him, you saw how defeated he looked and you instantly knew he needed comforting. You caressed his back, not sure what was expected of you.

Luckily, he pulled away but before you could recover, he crashed his lips into yours. You closed your eyes, kissing him back, your mind already racing. Neymar jr was kissing you or was it the other way around. Eventually, he pulled back, you both needed to breath.

This time, you looked into his lust filled eyes unabashed. You reached up pulling him down to your level and kissed him. Slow, deliberate but desperate. His hands fell below you waist, groping your ass through your pants, you felt wetness pool at your core. You bit his lip and he groaned into your mouth picking you up. Your legs latched to him as he walked to the bed, beginning to leave sloppy kisses against your neck.

Neymar gently placed you on the bed, positioned himself between your legs and tugged on your shirt. You rested on your elbows, giving him room to lift the shirt off you. He kissed his way from your mouth down to your chest, stopping just above your lacy bra.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed. "Do you want this?” You nodded desperately, not finding your voice in that moment. That was all he needed. Moments later, your bra was off, tossed somewhere as he sucked on your breasts, giving each nipple equal attention. You moaned, fingers caressing his head and back.

He tugged off your trousers and you watched as he stood to remove his, his bulge very visible through his briefs. You bit your lip as you watched him crawl up to you, a sly smile on his face. Neymar kissed you and ground his hips against yours, the only obstruction being both your undergarments.

His hands explored, as if trying to commit your body to memory.

“I’ve wanted this since the first day I saw you,” he said.

He loved how you responded when he sucked on that spot on your neck which didn’t take him long to find. Neymar kissed his way down to your core and you trembled in anticipation as he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs. Neymar kissed your inner thigh, his beard tickling you.

You sucked your breath in anticipation as you watched him finally dip where you wanted him desperately. You moaned as he ran his tongue along your slit, hands automatically reaching down to grab his head.

“You’re so wet," he rasped against your thigh. He flicked his tongue on your bud and you gasped, grabbing the sheets. He continued his ministrations, loving your moans, glancing up occasionally to see the effect he had on you. You thrashed in his sheets as he introduced a finger, then another into you.

“Oh fuck, daddy,” you cursed beginning to feel that familiar tingling in your stomach, he knew you were close. You came with a loud moan, grinding against his face, chest heaving.

“Daddy?” He asked, teasing you as he came back up with a satisfied smile on his face. You smiled back as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips.

He had taken off his briefs somehow and began to line himself at your entrance. You looked down and gasped at his size, just as he began to push into you.

Neymar groaned as he bottomed out in one thrust. “You’re so tight,” he breathed against your neck giving you time to adjust before he began thrust into you. The pain you felt quickly gave way to pleasure, raising your hips to meet his thrusts. He took one nipple in his mouth, his hands giving attention to the other breast and alternating between the two.

He placed your legs on his shoulders, the new angle giving him access to that spot deep within you. You moaned and scratched at his back, the beginnings of another climax creeping on you. He quickened his movements when he felt you begin to clench around him, your moans driving him crazy. His thrusts became irregular and strained as he chased his pleasure and yours.

You came all over him with a deep moan, rising to wrap your arms around his neck. He pushed into you a few times before pulling out, his seed splashing on your belly as he came with a groan.

“Fuck,” he said as he kissed you again. Neymar rose to go to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel which he used to wipe you down. He laid beside you and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his damp chest, and sighed deeply feeling sated.

You had just fucked your boss, you thought for a brief moment as his hands rubbing your back lulled you to sleep.

A/n: this is my first fic on here, my first time writing again after about 4 years. And it’s my first time writing smut😵‍💫 Please be nice lol.

[thatsdemko]

five minutes - Neymar jr.

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: Neymar jr x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors

a/n: I can’t get these thoughts out of my head for him so I need to put it into action

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

in the other room Neymar is getting ready and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak at him. you carefully watched, from the side of the doorframe, him pulling on the suit jacket and adjusting his tie in the mirror. god he looked handsome. there was always something about a man in a suit that could change a woman’s opinion, but when it was your man? it was fine as hell.

you bit your bottom lip feeling a sensation in between your thighs causing you to squeeze them tighter together in your stance. you promised yourself you’d pull away, but you couldn’t get enough of him dusting the jacket off, adjusting the tie, buttoning the jacket, etc. it was driving you crazy.

“you can come in, amor.” he saw you from the corner of his eye when he turned to grab his tie off the counter. he knew how crazed you went for him in a suit, it’s why he took his time putting it on because he knew you’d be taking it off soon.

you felt the heat spread across your cheeks feeling embarrassed that you were caught watching him, but you followed his words and entered the room revealing more of him to you. his dress pants were tight around his butt and thighs and he hadn’t picked out a pair of shoes yet. there was so little time, and the wait was killing you. you needed to get him out of those clothes or far more, do something to him in those clothes.

“handsome.” you spoke moving in front of him to adjust his tie for him since it wasn’t making any progress. you inhaled his cologne that you so loved, while you carefully positioned the tie in the center. somehow, being so close to him always felt so intimidating, especially when the sexual tension was tight. it felt like any move could change the trajectory of time.

“not so bad yourself.” he eye’d you up and down taking in the black dress that had a high slit exposing your thigh. he could feel the butterflies in his stomach and his breath hitch at the sight of you. you noticed the sudden change in his breathing making you smirk.

“there you go.” you moved out of the way for him to see himself in the mirror. you stood behind him allowing your lips to form into a soft smile and he met eyes with you in the mirror giving you a wink. he knew every thought in that mind of yours. he would be lying if he wasn’t thinking them for you too.

“not yet, we have to leave.” his words were disappointing. you had twenty minutes to spare, and it was enough time to do what you needed.

“we have time.” you spoke quietly behind him, the heat returning to your cheeks causing him to spin around to get a better look at you. he raised an eyebrow wanting to hear more from you, but all you did was push him in the chair next to his line of shoes exposing his thick thigh in the skinny dress pants.

“I swear it won’t take long.” you promised. pushing his legs apart, you sat down on one of his thighs watching his expression shift from confused to a smirk of joy. he pushed your hair out of your face before resting his hands on your hips.

“say no more.” he relaxed his body, but made sure his thigh was still in the same position that had you sat there in the first place. your lower half started to work itself up and down in strokes, feeling the wetness in your panties increase as you moved against the fabric of his pants.

he allowed you to do whatever you needed to do, but man he loved watching you turned on. he loved seeing the way your head tilted back with pleasure and hearing the little grunts coming from your mouth. he wasn’t even doing a single thing and you were beside yourself for him. it made him crazy.

“feel good?” he asked, you felt his grip tighten around your hips. he pressed a couple of kisses to your neck, making sure not to leave marks before an event. it was already going to be suspicious if you two were late, but you had fifteen minutes left, and you were about ready to come.

“you don’t even know what you do to me.” you breathed out, finally slowing down once the high was over and your pussy felt satisfied.

you got off his thigh immediately going to the mirror to check yourself to make sure your makeup was still intact. you looked over to see him putting on a pair of shoes, you could see the bulge in his tight pants that made you smirk. you weren’t surprised it turned him on, if you knew a thing or two about Neymar, it was that he loved watching you get off to your pleasures.

“ready to go?” you asked adjusting your dress turning around to lean against the door frame watching him work his way over to you.

“now my thing, will take much longer than five minutes.” his body hovered over yours as he flicked off the lights in the room, before leaving you standing there to catch up to him.

“I can’t wait.”

[lfc21]

Wedding night

Player: Neymar jr

TW: Fluff, wedding scene

Authors note: This is my first Neymar jr imagine! Please leave feedback, I greatly appreciate it.

You thought love was about red roses and expensive dinners. Truth is, love is giving half of your food even when they say they weren't hungry. Love is waking up at 4am to their snores and refraining from shoving them off the bed. It's talking in accents just to make the laugh and trying to embarrass one another in public. It's going on adventures and making fun of each other. It's stupid fights and memorable makeups. Love isn't pretty and romantic. Love is just stumbling through life with your best friend.

You stood on the balcony of your honeymoon, sweet. The floods of guests stood singing and beaming in the court yard. It was your big day, and it wasn't just a day that you were excited for. It was the rest of your life. Your hands held the metal running across the Juliet balcony. The sun was dancing of the ring in which held the most important thing to you, your love. You inhaled, feeling the most clear breath you had gained all day. It was now stress free. You felt your husbands hands wrap around your small frame. His hands sat on the bodes of your white gown, and his head was resting on your shoulder as he inhaled your comforting scent.

"You look gorgeous bebê" He said in his soft angelic accent. You leaned into his embrace as your eyes watched your family and friends dance and sing as if it was their last day. Your hands fell on top of his as the cold feeling of his new ring laid rest on your palm.

"I think I can say the same to you," you softly said with a smirk as you turned around in his embrace. Your eyes looked up through your lashes as his signature smirk fell so deeper into your vision. You were addicted to him.

"I'm glad where on the same page," He said in a smile as his lips fell lightly onto yours. You let out a giggle at his obvious jokes. His hands were taking up the majority of your back. Neymar had never had a clear obsession with wedding dresses, but in this moment, he was the one most addicted. He could have kept you in this pure look for the rest of your lives.

"Where always on the same page," you remark with a laugh as your hands hold him from behind your back and slowly unwrapped them from your body. His eyes were piercing into you. It was as if he was telling a million stories just by looking at you. "Come on, we have guests," you added, stringing the s on your last word as you wondered past him with a swing of your hips. He quickly ran his body to you as he quickly wondered to your moving back and hunched over to grab your hand. His eyes were resting on the curves in your body. If it was up to him, he would have you in this suite all day. You wouldn't have complained he was sculpted from god in his perfectly fitted suit and his delicately styled hair.

"Do you know what I think we should do for a joint wedding present?" He casually asked as you shut the door and walked hand in hand down the grand hallway. His hand was modelled into yours.

"What?" You asked with a smile as you looked up at his working face. He looked down at you with a smirk and nothing but a giddy laugh.

Hey guys 👋🏻 This is my first Neymar Jr. imagine, so I really hope you enjoy it. 😉 I would greatly appreciate feedback and requests ❤️ Thank you all so much for the support 💌

"I think Davi needs a brother or sister," He explained with a teethy grin. You simply shuck your head with a smile as you tugged him quicker down the hall. Maybe he was right? After all, it was your wedding night.

Main masterlist📃

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[luvneymar]

(2/2) FOREVER AND ALWAYS — NEYMAR JR

SUMMARY: You and your best friend have been in-love with each other since forever, one day you both get drunk and you end up pregnant

PARING: teen!neymar x teen!reader

NOTE: I changed the ages so Davi could be younger & this was posted pretty late so if there’s any spelling errors or anything pls lemme know! 🫶

“You’re almost there baby-girl! Keep pushing.” Your mother sent words of encouragement as you squeezed the life out of her’s & Neymar’s hands, you were pushing out a baby with a head the size of the moon.

“I can’t! He can just stay in my uterus! It’s safer & it’s better for everyone!” You shook your head side to side curling your toes as you were in so much pain & discomfort you were sure you’d explode.

“Also I’m pretty sure I pooped on the midwife’s hand, so sorry.” You shouted out really fast before returning to screaming in pain & squeezing your boyfriend’s hand as hard as you could.

“It’s okay baby, you can do this. I believe in you!” Neymar sent encouraging words your way which just annoyed him, you didn’t have a huge head when you were a baby so this definitely had to be the genetics of none other than Neymar.

“You shut up! Just shut up! Who asked you to develop such a huge head? Now my vagina is going to rip into one huge whole because of you!” As you cursed him out you hadn’t even notice you had been slightly pushing the whole time which finally remove your large headed baby from your vagina.

You suddenly didn’t feel as much pain as you felt a few seconds ago which confused you until you felt pressure on your chest as you heard a crying baby lay on your chest. “Baby you did it.” Neymar whispered as he wiped the excess sweat off your forehead as you cradled your crying son.

“He’s so beautiful.” You cried out as you took in the fact that not only you survived the attack on your vagina but you were now a mother; to a huge headed baby. Neymar kissed you on the cheek as you both obsessed over your newborn son. “Alright mama, we’ve gotta clean him up. You did great.”

As your OB took your son out of the room to do whatever medical stuff they needed to do for him Neymar wrapped his hands around you pulling you in for a hug as you cried taking in what just happened.

—

That was 4 years ago, within those 4 years you became a well respected actress while Neymar continued to chase after his football career & had become a hotshot football player. You both had your ups & downs but you both had made it work.

You had just finished shooting the film “Avengers; Infinity War” & were preparing to attend the premiere, or at-least trying too. Davi kept throwing a tantrum about how he didn’t want to wear this, he was hungry, he was tired all the typical 4 year old problems.

Fortunately the help of your husband who your son practically worshipped you all managed to get dressed without too much of a hitch. “Davi baby are you ready to go?”

“Yes!” Your son smiled up at you as he offered you a soggy warm cracker he had been holding in his palm for the past few minutes. You took the cracker & tucked it into your purse before picking up your son. “Let’s go baby, your daddy is waiting in the car.”

Once you both arrived to where the car was parked & settled in the driver at the front had begun to drive you leaned into your husband giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Don’t thank me baby, I always want to celebrate your success.” Neymar replied as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you in as he kissed your forehead, you smiled at his action as you leaned into his chest.

You closed your eyes as you listening to his heartbeat not aware that you fallen asleep in that exact position until your soon who was sitting beside you had nudged you in your side. “Mommy we’re here.” He whispered in your ear .

“Thank you for waking me up baby.” As you got up you wiped the crumbs that were decorated all across your sons face as well as checking your face for any smudges or marks. “Ney baby we’re ready.”

“Alright.” He answered as he opened the door revealing multiple cameras flashes & screaming people, you picked up your son from his armpit and mad your way out of the car shielding his eyes from the blinding lights.

As you all made your way down the red carpet and onto the photo booth area you were met with multiple reporters waiting to interview different actors & actresses about any topic they could conjure up.

As Neymar was pulled away by other reporters you made your way to the entrance of the building barely making it before being pulled away by a reporter with exceptionally bright teeth. “Hi there (Name)! I can see here you brought your son to the premiere!”

“Yes I did. He’s super excited to be here. He wants to meet Thor.” You answered smiling at your son who was completely oblivious to what was going on as he stared into the camera that was recording his mother.

“Thor?” The moment you mentioned Thor he begun to look around trying to find his favourite superhero thinking he was around him.

“Yes Thor honey.” You smiled at him pulling at his soft cheek as he continued to snack on his crackers getting crumbs on your dress, not that you minded of course.

“Such a cute child, (Name) you played the role of the Scarlet Witch correct?” The reporter smiled at Davi before turning to face you something weird hiding behind her smile.

“Yes I did. Is there a question in there?” You asked not paying any attention to the reporter as you son begun to fuss feeling overwhelmed by all the noises. “Yes, how did the casting for the role go?”

“Actually I didn’t go through a casting process, I was personally asked to play the role.” You answered turning to smile at the reporter quickly before turning back to your son feeding him more snacks to keep him calm.

“Really? So in your opinion—” Just as the reporter was going to say something Neymar had come out of nowhere interrupting them.

“My love, there you are.” Neymar kissed yours & Davi’s cheek as he wrapped his hand around your waist other hand used to wipe crumbs from his sons face.

“Neymar! Would you like to—!” The reporters face perks up seeing Neymar enter your interview. “I am so sorry but we have to get going, the premier is about to start & my son is getting cranky.”

“But I still—”

“Thank you so much for your time.” You thanked the reporter before walking away silently thanking God for Neymar’s timing, it wasn’t a secret that multiple people assumed you only had your success because your husband was a famous footballer.

You never felt the need to correct them simply because you have proven yourself side the beginning of your career & you still continue to by snagging large roles in movies like these ones.

“Thank you I knew she was going to ask the most foolish question on earth.” You kissed your husband on his cheek as you let your son down letting him walk his own. Neymar laughed at your statement before shuffling his son towards his seat in the dark building.

As you all say in your seats waiting for the movie to begin your co-worker; Christ Hemsworth shuffled past you trying to get to his seat which was right beside you. “Hey Chris!” You whisper shouted using Davi’s hand to wave.

“(Name)! Hey! You brought your family!” He whispered back as he exchanged in a manly fist bump with Neymar who sat right beside you, as you both exchanged pleasantries you were interrupted by your son who sat in your lap staring at your co-worker in awe.

“Are you Thor? The superhero?” He asked staring up at him with his big brown eyes as he gripped Chris’s suit jacket getting some crumbs on it. “Why yes I am little man!”

“Really?” Davi squealed out smiling brightly excited to meet his favourite superhero, you laughed at his reaction knowing all the times you had to rematch marvel movies because he wanted to see Thor.

“Really!” Chris replied, as soon as he did Davi begun to fuss trying to leave your lap wanting to spend time with his favourite superhero instead, you complied knowing it would allow you to spend more time with your husband who was snacking on his peanuts.

“Are you okay with this?” You asked him not sure if he felt used or as if you were dumping your child into him for a free night out. “Are you kidding? Me & him are gonna have a blast. Don’t worry about him.”

“Thanks Chris, I owe you one.” Hearing that reassured you as you heard your sons voice fade into the background you turned to your husband. “As for you mister.”

“Finally some attention from my wife, seems like everyone needs her attention.” He peeled his eyes from the screen and onto you placing his peanuts into your purse. “Not anymore, we are all alone.”

Hearing that was like music to his ears, you both loved your son but ever since he was born your guys hadn’t been as intimate as you could’ve been if you had waited to have him.

“Isn’t Davi beside you?” Neymar leaned over checking the seat beside you. “Nope, Chris took him down a row or two to be closer to the screen.” You explained as you pulled your husband in for a quick kiss.

“So do you wanna find a bathroom?” He asked preparing to get up as he loosened his tie looking around to see if anyone or cameras were on them. “No! We’re watching the movie!”

You slapped his shoulder laughing quietly as you realized that the movie had just begun, you both turned to face the screen as you intertwine fingers holding hands.

—

Once the lights turned on the movie had needed you stood up almost stumbling over as your leg had fell asleep, Neymar had shot up to catch you stopping you from falling onto the person in-front of you. “Careful.”

“Thanks baby.” You pulled him in holding his cheek as you kissed both of them before going to find your son Neymar not that far behind you. Once you arrived to Chris’s row you had noticed that he had fell asleep in his arms.

“When he fell asleep you should’ve brought him back to me, thank you so much Chris.” Neymar bent down to pick up Davi from Chris’s arms who stood up to stretch the moment his child duty as relived.“My pleasure, you guys have such a funny kid. Stay safe guys.”

Once Chris begun walking away you shook your son awake slightly as you walked right behind him going to the same exit. “You wanna say bye to Thor sweetie?”

“Bye bye!” Davi yelled out waving his hand back and forth at Chris as he turned around and waved goodbye smiling before pushing the exit door open holding it open for Neymar to take, as Neymar held the door open you conversed with your son. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Yes! Mommy can we watch it again at home?”

“Oh boy.” You sighed chuckling at what was about to go down once again.“It hasn’t come out on TV yet baby.” You replied shortly hoping it’d end his constant train of questioning.

“Aww…”

“But Mommy can act it out for us! Did you see Mommy on the screen?” Neymar interrupted igniting the fire of Davi’s obsession with Marvel, you wanted to twist his lips off knowing every time you watched the marble series as a family he’d fall asleep.

“Yeah, Mommy can you act it out for us?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You said while laughing as you took Davi from Neymar to place him in his car seat, once he was secure in his seat you sat beside him with Neymar going to sit on the other side of the car.

Once you all were settled & the driver had begun to drive Davi was out like a light soon after leaving you and Neymar in comfortable silence.

“Did you like the movie?” You asked breaking the silence as you turned to him reaching your hand out for him to take, he took your hand & caressed you knuckles with his thumb.

“Of course I did, I’m so proud of you my love. You’ve come so far.” Neymar kissed the back of your hand as he rambled on about how proud of you he was, your heart melted at his praises as you smiled brightly unable to mask your happiness.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you, thank you for always supporting me.” Neymar smiled back at you small blush on his face, he turned to face the window not letting go of your hand before continuing, “I love you.”

“I’m not on rewatching duty though, you have to do that.” You reminded turning to look out the window small smirk on your face that didn’t go unnoticed. “Whatever.” He replied letting go of your hand to grab your face kissing you all over before finishing with a quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you too, I guess.” You grumbled happily before pulling him by his chin for another quick kiss.

← prev [ neymarsluv! ]

[boiohboii]

The Tattoo Sleeve (Neymar Jr. Soulmate au)

Chapter 1

Prologue

I am currently sleep deprived, so I am really sorry for any mistakes.

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Warning: curse words

Taglist: @itzz-me-duh

------------------------------------------------------

"I need something to cheer me up that doesn't come from a vending machine," y/n took a seat beside the young children "you got any ideas?"

Three pairs of confused brown eyes looked to their left, seeing a white coat before tilting their heads up to see an unfamiliar face. Anyone passing could feel the peculiar atmosphere; the young lady having a relaxing aura while the three boys looked uncertain of the question itself, much less how to answer.

"Don't worry," reassured y/n "I am a doctor here, my name is y/n."

With a look to each other, the three decided to trust the long piece of clothing along with the card hanging on her neck, and introduced themselves.

"Thiago"

"Davi"

"Mateo"

"You boys have such nice names." Cooed y/n.

"Thank you."

"We are not babies!"

"Don't talk to an adult like that! Papa and Mama told us to be nice."

The two brunet boys reminded her of tom & Jerry in that moment, they were currently arguing about whether to be polite or to not trust strangers. Both rules taught to them by their parents, and both were correct - well, some would argue about always being polite rule, but that's not the current issue.

"A hug." A timid reply came as the blonde boy admired his swinging feet.

"Well, who's the lucky person that you hug?"

"Papa and mama," Lucca smiled. "My grandma too! She gives the best hugs!"

Y/n smiled at the small boy's enthusiasm as he talked about everyone that has hugged him with a wide grin on his face.

"What about me?!" Exclaimed Thiago. "I hug you too!"

"Yeah, but you're shorter than me!"

"Hey! My brother isn't short! He is big and strong!"

A laugh escaped y/n as she watched the three boys argue over the fact that a person is short doesn't mean they aren't strong. Oh they are so cute! I want to squish their cheeks so bad!

Going through her pockets, y/n searched for a few candies to give to the boys as a thank you for cheering her up, she always loved talking to kids they had the most genuine and entertaining conversations, especially with each other. However, as she was digging around she felt a smooth, slightly wet smudge on her fingertips, no no, please god I don't want to stay in a small cubicle for 10 minutes to reapply anything!

Looking at her wrist, the concealer's tone was bright and clear against the white sleeve margins, y/n groaned and rolled her head backwards.

"Miss, are you okay?"

Came a small voice, making y/n realise that the three boys have stopped their back and forth and watched her intently, not sure if they should move away in case she wanted to rest; Davi remembered his mother telling him of how hard doctors work and study to be able to help him, or if she was hurt and they should call someone.

"Ahh yes," y/n smiled reassuringly. "Just my coat got a bit dirty and I have to go change."

She wasn't about to tell them that her connection to her soulmate was writing on skin, and that her soulmate was obsessed so she had to wake up nearly before all and any gathering or meeting or work appointment by 3 hours to cover up tattoos that her soulmate placed on his skin with no consideration of the consequences that will occur to her nor her request at 23 years old asking him to please, stop.

Yes, she was and still is bitter about it, she can hold a grudge. (She, in fact, can not hold a grudge for more than 2 hours.)

"Is that a tattoo?" Mateo frowned with knitted eyebrows as he tried to get a better look at the drawings under her sleeves.

Wide eyes and a stumped smile on her face, y/n nodded, wondering how such a young boy knows what tattoos are. Well, there is internet everywhere. However, unlike her thoughts, the little boy had recently been obsessed with his father's right arm, looking at the black ink with the occasional question.

"Papa has that!" Raved Thiago as he looked at his brother and friend with shinning eyes and a wide smile. He had rarely seen any women with tattoos, only a few and he has no idea why, but it was something new to him and it made him want to sit with the doctor for much longer.

"Yes! Uncle Leo and papa have tattoos!" Gushed the blonde boy with his friends before asking y/n if there was more.

Not seeing any harm in showing three little boys the small uncovered part of her uncontrolled tattoo sleeve, she lifted a bit of her coat, just a layer really. And as soon as she had done so, the only blonde gasped as his eyes widened, freezing in place.

He looked familiar, very oddly familiar, and she knew that, she knew that she saw him before, she saw him nearly everyday in black ink on her forearm. She was desperate for the thought in her head to be wrong, to just be her mind playing tricks on her or for her to just currently be going through a romantic drought that she is making things up.

But, she was so, very wrong.

"That looks like papa's!" Davi exclaimed as soon as y/n showed her arm.

Well, holy shit. I am not insane. I'm right!

Oh. I 'm right.

Chapter 2

[katebishopsbow]

A STUDY BREAK • NEYMAR JR

pairing: neymar jr x reader (18+)

summary: in the middle of studying for your physics exam, neymar decided that you needed a little break, and he’s more than happy to help you de-stress.

tags: explicit sexual content (minors dni), fingering, spit, finger sucking, choking, praise kink, possessive!neymar, dom!neymar, inexperienced!reader, no mentions of y/n, established relationships

word count: 2.8k

(gif is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Meu amor.” You hummed at your boyfriend’s nickname for you, keeping your gaze glued to the physics textbook before you as you flipped through another page. Finals week - every college student’s worst nightmare - was right around the corner, and you originally planned to have a cram study session at home, but Neymar managed to convince you to come over and study at his place - which you only agreed to after making him promise not to bother you while you were studying. 

He tried sticking to his promise and busied himself with video games, heck, he even started cleaning the house out of boredom - but two hours had passed and he was getting real bored, and hard, and he wanted your attention.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and you sighed in contentment when his arms encircled your waist, tugging you closer toward his chest. “Are you done studying yet?” he asked despite already knowing the answer, though a devious plan was beginning to form inside his head that could most definitely convince you to take a break. 

“Still got six chapters left… and the pile of notes over there,” you pouted while nodding your chin towards the papers scattered over the bedroom floor, and the mere sight of the messy notes was enough to worsen the terrible headache pulsating at your temples. A break was very much needed, but time didn’t quite allow you to take one at the moment, and pulling an all-nighter wasn’t exactly your forte.

“Take a break,” Neymar whispered behind your ear before leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your neck, and another, and another, until you were a giggling mess writhing around in his arms. “Ney, stop, I have to study,” you protested jokingly, nudging him away with your elbow as you tried to suppress your laughter. 

Neymar stopped for a second, and just when you thought he was finally going to stop pestering you, he leaned in closer and placed an open-mouthed kiss over your skin. “Let me help you relax, baby,” he exhaled, voice deep and hoarse almost as if he had just woken up while his hot breath fanned over the spot he just kissed. 

Your breath hitched, and you could feel your pulse quicken at the sudden change of mood. He leaned in to kiss you again, right above your collarbone, swiping his tongue swiftly against your skin as he kept a firm grip on your waist.

Slowly and steadily, he let his finger slide down your waist and settled over your thigh, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your exposed skin below the hem of your shorts. His touch led a scorching hot trail along your body, goosebumps forming underneath his fingertips, and each circle he drew sent a flurry of tingles down your spine, clouding your mind with thoughts of him and him only.

You had every intention to stop, to pull away from him and get back to studying for the damned physics final you had the next day, but the truth was that you didn’t want it to stop. Every kiss and every touch was so intoxicating that you wished you could get lost in him forever. 

The exam had somehow become the last thing on your mind, fading into blurry nothingness - pointless and unimportant. Instead, all thoughts were replaced by Neymar and every little thing about him - his touch, his kisses, his scent.

His lips pulled up into a slight smirk when he noticed the way your body stiffened and your breathing sped up, especially when his fingertips inched closer and closer to your core. He didn’t have to look at you to know that you were blushing, that your cheeks were heating up in a faint crimson while becoming so worked up by his gentle yet teasing touch, desperate for him to touch you but was simply too shy to say anything about it. 

He knew everything about you - so innocent and so easy to read - and he knew how to get you exactly where he wanted.

“Let me make you feel good,” he said to you while you leaned backward, and he had to clench his jaw in an attempt to suppress the pleasured groan threatening to spill from his lips when your body brushed against his hardness over his sweatpants. 

“Ney, what’s wrong?” you asked with a hint of genuine worry in your voice, completely oblivious to your effect on him and his aching need for you. “Nothing, love, just relax,” he reassured you as he tightened his arm around your waist, giving your thigh a comforting squeeze with his other hand.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to get any studying done, not when your boyfriend’s hands are all over you, you nodded at his words before allowing yourself to relax and leaned into his embrace, nestling closer to Neymar and settled between his legs. “Just a quick break…” you whispered softly with a defeated look on your face, but the excitement sitting in the pit of your stomach had long betrayed you - you wanted this just as much as him.

Neymar reached for your chin to turn your head towards him, leaning in slowly until his lips were mere millimeters away from your own. He was so close, so close that you could see the golden specs swimming in his eyes, that if you leaned forward the slightest bit you could kiss him. 

But you remained unmoving, holding your breath in anticipation as you waited for him to do something - anything.

There was an unfathomable look in his eyes, a glint of hunger fueled by the desire he had for you. “Be a good girl for me,” he said hushedly, voice firm and authoritative as if he was daring you to misbehave - but you knew better than to do so. You watched as his gaze flickered down to your mouth, and then he leaned forward to connect your lips, stealing your breath away.

You let him take the lead like you always did, surrendering yourself to him in each and every way possible. His taste was intoxicating, each swipe of his tongue and each touch of his skin so addictive that you wondered how you were able to survive all these years before meeting him. 

His hand glided down your face to settle over your neck, and you felt his fingers wrapped themselves loosely around your throat before giving it a light squeeze - gentle enough not to hurt, but hard enough to send a wave of pleasure down your body. 

You never admitted to him how much you liked it whenever he did that, but you didn’t have to, because Neymar always knew every single thought inside of your pretty little head. 

He gave you another squeeze - this time slightly harder, and he certainly hadn’t missed the way your breath hitched against his lips and the soft whine that you let out. “You’re such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” he asked you quietly, and you couldn’t help but nod at his words albeit knowing it was more of a teasing remark rather than a genuine question. 

He let out a small laugh, his breath hot against your lips before he pulled away to stare into your eyes. There was an almost wolfish glint in his gaze, fingers still wrapped around your throat as he breathed out, “Say it, tell me you’re my dirty little girl.” 

Your thighs instinctively clenched together at his words, arousal filling up your chest from the thought of being his - completely and utterly his. “I’m your dirty little girl,” you repeated after him, your words coming out shakier than you thought, weak and breathy almost like a pleading whine. 

Neymar grinned slightly before he continued kissing down your neck, leaving a trail of wet and tender kisses while occasionally nipping at your delicate skin, suckling and nibbling as he pleased. The fingers splayed on your thighs inched higher and higher until they reached the hem of your shorts where he began toying with the flimsy fabric, purposefully avoiding the place where you needed him the most. 

You made a noise of frustration - whiney and desperate - and Neymar would’ve cooed at how adorable you were if it wasn’t for how insanely hard that sound had made him. “What is it, princess?” The simple question only managed to make your frustration grow, because you knew that he knew what you wanted, he just wanted you to say it out loud. 

“Ney…” you let out a shuddering breath, feeling your body grow hot from the raw desire and want coursing through your veins. “What do you want me to do, hmm?” Neymar felt like a sick bastard for doing this, for teasing you and being so mean - and perhaps he was for wanting to hear those sinful words coming out of his sweet, innocent girlfriend. But the second the words spilled from your lips, he realized that he was fine being a sick bastard if it meant that he could keep hearing them.

With your wide eyes, blown pupils, and swollen lips, you inhaled a shaky breath before muttering softly at your boyfriend, “Touch me, please.” Three words, three simple words, but it was enough to send him into overdrive. 

“Fuck, baby…” Neymar liked to think that he was a rather calm person - even on the field when his team was falling behind or when he only had mere seconds left to score a goal, he liked to think that he could stay unfazed and collected in most scenarios - though he swore he almost fainted upon hearing what you said. 

The desperation seeping through your words and the pleading glint in your eyes, so innocent and clueless yet completely consumed by the sinful desire for him. Everything about you drove him to insanity, and he wanted to corrupt you so badly that it hurt. 

The relief that washed over you when he finally slipped his hand inside your shorts was simply indescribable, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan the second his fingertips brushed against your skin. He glanced down at you with a tender gaze, watching you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. “I’ll make you feel real good, meu amor,” he said to you before pressing a kiss on the side of your head, voice sweet and mellow while he rubbed a gentle finger through your soaked folds.

The sensation was electrifying, and you found yourself wanting more from him - so much more. “Keep it wide open for me, hmm?” he instructed after pushing your thighs apart, humming in satisfaction when you nodded compliantly. Your eyes fluttered close as he traced your core with his fingers, gathering your wetness with each delicate stroke while he teased your entrance, swiping against your throbbing hole but not quite entering. 

“Ney, please… I can’t…” you mewled as you gripped onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and as much as he enjoyed hearing you beg, he decided that it was enough teasing for the day. With a deep grunt, he finally slipped his fingers inside you, groaning at the warm sensation enveloping his slick digit. “God, you’re tight,” he huffed when he pulled out his finger, admiring the glistening wetness coating his hand before lifting it to his mouth, lapping feverishly at your sweetness as he smirked, “Sweet too.” 

Pulling his finger out, he lifted his hand to your lips and pushed his spit-slickened digit inside your mouth, groaning at the warm cavern of your lips wrapped around him. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, unsure of what you were supposed to do as he gently pressed his finger on your tongue. 

“Suck,” he ordered while he watched you with an intense gaze, and being obedient as ever, you began sucking lightly on his finger, tasting the slightest tinge of yourself on him. He pushed in even further, urging you to attempt swirling your tongue around him - and although your movement was slow and inexperienced, the lewd sight in front of him was enough to make him let out an obscene grunt.

Neymar wondered if he could possibly get any more turned on than this very moment, with you sucking on his finger as you glanced up at him with those innocent eyes, always so eager to please him. And more than anything, he wished that your lips were wrapped around his growing hardness instead.

He pulled out his finger abruptly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his slick hand, and he watched with intent as it broke off. Then his fingers were inside you again, this time adding a second one while he plunged them in and out of you with quick, deft strokes. 

Wonton moans escaped your lips each time his fingertips dragged along your walls, touching you at just the right spot where you needed him the most. Neymar relished every whine, every mewl, every whimper that came from you, and he wondered how you would sound like when you finally reached your peak.

“F– feels so good…” Your chest heaved up and down, panting from the pleasure building deep within you as he continued speeding up his strokes. “God, you’re such a good girl for me,” he grunted between clenched teeth, keeping a steady pace with his fingers while his other hand traveled to your breast, giving it a tight squeeze. 

The nickname made you feel lightheaded, filling your chest with a euphoric feeling that was difficult to explain. You wanted to be a good girl for him, you wanted to pleasure him the same way he was pleasuring you, you wanted to be his - only his and nobody else.

His fingers continued to move inside you - quick and experienced - stretching you out in the best way possible, and the pleasure that began building within you had slowly become overwhelming. “Ney, I–” you managed to choke out, feeling as if your breath got lodged in your throat. “Shhh, just a little bit more,” he shushed you and placed a kiss on your head, determined to bring you to the sweet release that he knew you so desperately needed.

Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch setting you ablaze while molten heat coursed through you. “I bet you’d feel so good around my cock, baby.” His voice sounded breathless, and the occasional grunts that escaped his lips were clear indicators that he was just as affected by this as you were.

“Ney, please…please,” You weren’t entirely sure what exactly were you begging for, your mind had become far too clouded to form any coherent thoughts. “Does that feel good?” He pressed down even harder, curling two fingers inside you as his thumb rubbed quick circles over your clit, his pace never faltering even when your fingers dug into his arm, nodding your head in a frantic manner.

You could feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge, so dangerously close that all you needed was a little bit more before you could reach your release. Over your fogged-up brain and the deafening heartbeat drumming in your ears, you felt Neymar reach for your hand and laced your fingers together, as if he was telling you to let yourself go.

“Be a good fucking girl and come for me. Show me how good it feels.” 

Utter pleasure washed over you, enveloping every fiber of your being while you could feel yourself tumble over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling your mind go blank from the euphoria you were experiencing.

“There you go, baby.” Your body became limp in Neymar’s embrace, thighs clenching together involuntarily when his fingers continued to pump in and out steadily, working you through your orgasm. 

In your peripheral vision, you could see your boyfriend’s face contorting, crumbling together as if he was using every ounce of willpower and self-constraint within him to hold himself back. “Fuck, you look so fucking good right now,” he grunted against your neck, unclasping your hands to bring your face toward him.

“Shit, that was amazing…” you whispered shakily when he leaned in to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. “Feeling less stressed out?” he asked between kisses, and the two of you broke out in laughter knowing damn well you had wasted your precious studying time. 

When the laughter subsided, your eyes widened slightly as you felt him grind himself against your lower back, hard and stiff and aching with need. 

“You’re gonna let me fuck you now, meu amor ?”

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

[jdbellingham]

new years - jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x best friend reader

summary: as the bellingham brothers’ best friend, you had learned how to get the upper hand over them, and at new years when you are told to bring a game you have just the trick. but the one thing you didn’t expect from your game is what you got in return.

note: sorry I wrote this a while ago but haven’t gotten to posting it :)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, fluff?

Every year since you’d befriended the Bellingham brothers, you’d attended all of their holiday parties–and New Years was no exception. This year, Denise, Jude’s mother, had decided to make the party a bit more interesting. She had asked everyone attending to bring a fun challenge or game, and whoever won the most points that night would get to have one ask that no one could refuse. When you’d first heard your mind went completely blank, you didn’t know what to bring. But later that night you had dinner with Jude and Jobe, going to get Chinese food after Jobe had finished his final practice of the year. When you were eating you realized that the two of them didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and a shit-eating grinning spread across your face.

“Why do you have that devious smirk on your face y/n,” Jude looked up from his plate and began laughing when he saw your expression. Jobe casted a curious glance at you as well, furrowing his brows at your strange smile.

“No reason,” You had replied, snickering to yourself. You knew Jude and Jobe were overly competitive, and when they couldn’t win something they hated it. So what better way to whoop their asses on New Year’s Eve than to play dirty and bring a game with chopsticks?

–

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jude blatantly spat out, his mouth parted in a small semi circle when you pulled out your game.

“Language, Jude!” Denise exclaimed and swatted her son’s arm, gesturing not so inconspicuously to the 6 year old lad that was watching some cartoons on his mother’s phone.

“She’s a cheater!” Jude acknowledged his mom’s words but chose not to respond to her, then threw his hands up, and Jobe nodded in agreement.

“It’s not cheating, you guys just don’t know how to use chopsticks,” You snorted, and Jude gave you a look that made you laugh even harder.

“This is why you wanted your game to go last, so you could make us remember how badly we did,” Jude accused, and you shook your head and ignored him.

“Everyone has got a minute to transfer as many jelly beans as they can from the bowl on the left to the bowl on the right–using chopsticks,” You explained to them, dishing out hefty portions of the sweets to each of the guests, sending Jude a wink at the last part of your instructions.

After setting everything up you took your place next to Jude, sitting snugly into the chair. You felt Jude’s soft gaze on you, and it made the butterflies in your stomach dance joyfully, flitting around as your face began to burn a pinkish-red. You absent-mindedly wondered how Jude hadn’t noticed your shift in behavior around him. Ever since the summer the two of you were 17 your feelings for him had morphed into less platonic and far more romantic ones.

“Okay, the timer starts in 3…2…1…Now!” Denise exclaimed, stirring you out of the stupor that had left you blankly staring at the boy you had tried to convince yourself you could only ever be best friends with in hopes of dwindling your not-so friendly feelings.

You picked up your chopsticks and began picking up jelly bean after jelly bean, all the while watching Jude put one chopstick in each hand and try fruitlessly to move a single sweet into another bowl.

The timer began beeping, and everyone placed their chopsticks down. You took a peek at Jude’s bowl and was surprised to see a single bean sitting in it.

“Well done,” You patted his back, trying to contain a laugh. Ever since the two of you had started becoming best friends you’d loved mocking him. Even when you stopped thinking of him as one-

“Oh shut it,” Jude whined, interrupting your thoughts while reclining into his chair then crossing his arms in frustration.

“Says the person who can’t use chopsticks,” You elbowed him, leaning heavily into his side. Your rib bones chafed against his, even through the layers of cloth that stood between you.

“What does that have to do with the fact I told you to quiet down?!” Jude complained, pushing his shoulder into yours, his chair scooting closer to yours as he did so.

Denise finally made her way down the table to where you and Jude sat, a smile gracing her lips when she caught the two of you shoving each other.

“Well, it’s obvious you didn’t win,” Denise remarked, not even bothering to count what was in Jude’s bowl.

“The two of you are so mean!” Jude exclaimed dramatically, putting his face in his hands.

“You act as if you have zero points,” You scoffed, turning in your seat to face him.

“Still!” Jude argued, and Denise finished counting the beans in your bowl.

“Quiet down,” You hushed the whiny boy beside you, eyes following Denise who was announcing the final points now that the games were over.

“Okay, now that the final game is over I will be announcing the top 5 scorers, from least to most points,” Denise elaborated, then took a look at her clipboard (which funnily enough she had bought just for this occasion).

“In 5th place is John, with 36 points,” And the 6 year old who had been watching what you thought was cocomelon shouted gleefully.

“4th place is Mark, with 39 points,” Denise continued, “3rd place is Jobe with 45 points,”

You glanced over at Jude, who looked heavily invested. He was quite literally at the edge of his seat, wondering if he had gotten first or second place.

“And lastly, 1st place is Jude and Y/n who tied at 61 points,” Denise finished, and you began doubling over in laughter.

“Are you serious?” Jude’s mouth in a large “O” shape.

“Is the pope catholic?” Denise questioned, raising her brows at her eldest son.

“It’s because of your stupid chopsticks game,” Jude groaned, grabbing your hoodie and burying his face into it, then leaving his head to rest on your chest.

“Aw, it’s okay you suck,” You feigned a sympathetic tone as you ran your hand over his hair.

“Fuck off,” He mumbled, and you could barely make out what he said through the muffle of your hoodie.

“What are you guys gonna ask for?” John, the tiny boy, questioned you and Jude. He had approached you with his mother’s phone in his hand, but it was forgotten and at his side by the time he asked his question.

“We’ll have to think about it,” You reply, and Jude lifts his face up, jutting his chin into your left breast. You shove it downwards to a less painful area as he speaks to John.

“I’m probably gonna get her to do something stupid,” Jude whispered, full-well knowing you could hear.

John giggled and ran back towards his mom, who sent an apologetic smile, probably thinking he had bothered you.

“Get off of me Jude,” You sighed, attempting to push him upright and into his own seat. He groaned and used his hands to grab your hips, pulling himself back onto you. At the very feel of his touch your skin burned, sending another bout of butterflies through your body.

“No, I’m so tired Y/n just let me lay here,” He protested, the end of his sentence stretched to a long whine. You looked down at him, his wide brown eyes staring into yours.

“If you're going to use me as a pillow at least let us move to the coach,” You caved after a moment of silence, and Jude obliged with a smile plastered onto his features.

–

You felt yourself being shaken awake, John’s tiny hands pulling at your hair. You stared at him quizzically before he offered an explanation.

“New Years in 5 minutes,”

You thanked him and he trotted away, then you shifted your attention to Jude. The two of you had fallen asleep together on the large L-shaped sofa in the living room. Jude’s large frame laying atop your smaller one, his head rested on your chest whilst your arms encircled him. The position the two of you were in made your brain turn to mush, the proximity was driving you mad. You stared at his soft pinkish lips, wishing you could press them against yours.

It was almost as if Jude could hear you thinking, and he began to stir under your embrace, his head shifting to rest on his left cheek and his eyes fluttering before going shut again.

“Hey Jude,” You said softly, and Jude’s eyes flew open, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey gorgeous,” Jude replied, his voice sleepy. You weren’t sure why he had decided to use that pet name, but you weren’t going to complain.

“Get up, it’s almost new years,” You began to get up, and this time Jude obliged.

The two of you straightened out your clothing and headed out to the backyard where a large projector was casting the countdown onto a large white screen.

You stood by Jobe, Jude on your other side. As you started to make conversation with Jobe you felt Jude’s hand grab at yours. You allowed him to take it, feeling confused at his newly affectionate behavior.

“One minute left!” Someone shouted, and your eyes glanced at the projector screen.

“Y/n I’m going to use my ask on you,” Jude told you, the clock just hitting the 35 second mark.

“Jude there's 30 seconds left, it's really not the time,” You replied dismissively, still staring at the projector as the numbers slowly got smaller and smaller.

“Y/n look at me,” Jude demanded, and you finally turned to face him.

“What? What do you want?” You questioned, eyes holding onto his, even as you felt his hand leave yours.

“10! 9! 8!” The others began shouting a countdown, and Jude looked more panicked than ever.

“Kiss me,” He finally managed to get out, and he grabbed your face in his hands, pressing his supple lips against yours just as the countdown hit one. Your hands reflexively went to his chest, and you felt the unmistakable curve of defined muscle beneath your palms. You barely registered the cheers everyone yelled around you, your mind focused on the sensation of his body against yours.

The two of you finally pulled away, and Jude grinned like an idiot before softly saying “Happy New Year y/n,”

“Can I ask you to do something for me Jude,” You inquired, moving the conversation forward. You noticed how sharp Jude’s features were in the firelight contrasted by the dark night sky.

“Anything,” His eyes twinkled, wondering what exactly you wanted.

“Ask me to be your girlfriend,”

“Be my girlfriend y/n,” Jude immediately replied, and you smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“Thought you’d never ask,” You said, half honest and half sarcastic. Your heart was pounding crazily in your chest, still in shock of the events that had occurred in the last minute.

“Should’ve asked you sooner if I'm being honest,” Jude tilted his head while his eyes remained on your face, studying the features he’d loved for years.

“Can I ask you for one more thing?” You continued, staring back up at him. You figured you might as well ask for what you wanted, even if it was the heat of the moment.

“Anything for you, love,” Jude replied, the nicknames he was calling you tonight absolutely melting your insides.

“Kiss me again,”

note: working on reqs! I’m so sorry for the delay I’ve been swamped with volleyball and finals :(

if your name is below but not tagged I’m removing it from the list because it won’t let me tag you—prob bc u have a private blog—sorry!!

taglist: @raspberii @xaelia-au @mxyzptlkss @nonaism @itsmevalery @neysl0ver @crowdthena @qvirky-y @azvault @britneysbitch @futbol10 @cooloperajudgebear @lomlcherry @slvt4peterparker @saywhatiwants @richarlisonluvr @milkteabish @kyekai @jinjidontucry @wavessmile @angelxxrose-blog @meehhangryfun @fezlvr @wonderharryy @graysondolansmaid @hazalnut @eddiew-k @livinglifethroughfanfic @l0st-exe @superswaggycooch @honkkey47 @cialovessirlewis @capriaura @maeumiluv @alicesolengg @f1lover55 @frenchgirlsblog @bath1lda @luvelyxp @neymarjrsrealwife @notbluees @yooriscousin @neymarjrsrealwife @wehehwwh @landosmilkjug @edgyficuselastica

[hamiltonaf]

| M A S T E R L I S T |

- FOOTBALL & FORMULA 1 -

F O O T B A L L :

Jude Bellingham

Texts | Part 1

Kylian Mbappé

One More Dance | Fluff

Payback | Fluff

Bitter | Fluff

Day Off | Fluff

Tickles | Fluff

Expecting the Unexpected | Angst + Fluff

Tie the Knot | Fluff

Fender Bender | Angst + Fluff

Ferrari Fangirl | Fluff

One Night Stand | Angst + Fluff

Daddy’s Princess | Fluff

Falling for You | Angst + Fluff

Kiss & Makeup | Angst + Fluff

Friends with Benefits | Fluff

Trust Issues | Angst + Fluff

Texts | Part 1

Mason Mount

Party Aftermath | Angst + Fluff

Summer Break(Up) | Fluff

Neymar Jr.

Daddy Duties | Fluff

F O R M U L A 1 :

Lando Norris

Seeking His Attention | Fluff

Veiled Emotions P1 P2 | Fluff

Prank & Payback | Fluff

Lewis Hamilton

Night Owl | Fluff

Confession | Fluff

Wingman | Fluff

Texts | Part 1

Jealousy | Fluff

Fantasize | Smut + Fluff

Icebreaker | SMAU

Daniel Ricciardo

PDA | Fluff