tomsparkyr

[tomsparkyr]

⋆₊˚⊹♡

“Who is this gorgeous blonde in the front here?” Sabrina asks as the camera pans directly to Drew, showing him on the big screen on the stage. To no surprise, the crowd erupts into screams— no doubt the loudest screams heard all night.

“Ohhh,” Sabrina drawls seductively, “hey!”

You watch intently as Drew waves at her and you can’t help but blush watching her twirl the pink, fuzzy handcuffs around her delicate finger. The group of girls seated by you two are squealing and giggling loudly. You’re buzzing with excitement and you’re not sure who you’re more jealous of: your boyfriend or Sabrina.

“Well, this is kind of awkward,” she continues, “I’m not really into kooks…”

You didn’t know it was possible, but the sea of screaming girls gets even louder.

“If only there was a beautiful girl from the cut here,” she jokes with a pout, leaving you in awe; you weren’t even aware she watched the show, let alone knew the lingo. That’s when the camera instantly pans to you and Drew takes a step back, pointing at you enthusiastically.

“No way,” Sabrina begins, “there is!”

“What’s your name?” she asks you.

“Me?” You question, feigning innocence, “y/n!”

“Oh my God, my clothes just fell off, y/n! I was thinking about us,” she giggles into the mic while the intro to “Juno” begins to play.

“Will you be my Juno girl, y/n?” she asks as she passes the handcuffs to be given toyou.

You nod your head with enthusiasm as the crowd cheers and the lights begin to dim. Drew is back behind you again, his full weight pressed against you and his breath hot on your skin.

“Whatever position she chooses at the end, we’re doing it.”

You didn’t even know he knew about that. Tonight was full of surprises.

“Drew—” you giggle as he playfully grabs at your waist.

“I’m serious,” he says as his hand moves down to smack and squeeze the swell of you ass.

Best night ever.

[tomsparkyr]

Harry Potter Headcanon ||18+

Harry James Potter as Your Boyfriend 

(୨୧)  That Stupid Cute Look - He’s the kind of guy who gets flustered over the tiniest things, like you saying “I love you” for the first time, and he’s all wide-eyed like “Wait, you do?” (His face when he’s trying to process his feelings is pure heart-melting adorableness). You could just say “Hi” and he’s already blushing.

(୨୧) Protective, but in the Dumbest Ways He might try to protect you, but it comes out in the dumbest ways possible. Like that time he stepped in front of you to block a hex, even though you could have dodged it just fine. (You: “I’m literally a witch too, Harry.” Him: “I know. But you’re my witch.”)

(୨୧) The Awkward PDA He’s not great at showing affection in public, but when he does, it’s either accidental or he’s so shy about it that it ends up looking like the cutest thing ever. Like grabbing your hand when he’s scared or pulling you in for a hug, then quickly letting go like “Was that okay?” “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”

(୨୧) The Secret Softie Harry has a lot of inner turmoil, but with you, he’s the softest. He’ll pick you up a random book he knows you’ll love, just because he’s seen you reading about a topic once and now he wants to know you. He probably can’t even admit to himself how much he’d love to just curl up next to you and fall asleep. (That’s totally a boyfriend move, right?).

(୨୧) Harry's 'I'm Not Jealous' But Totally Is He’s the type to get all jealous when some dude tries talking to you, but he’s too nice and oblivious to show it properly. He’s probably lowkey eyeing the guy, but pretending to look at something else, hoping you won’t catch on to how possessive he’s being. (Meanwhile, he’s about to hex someone for looking at you too long). The poor guy thought that you would leave him for someone better. (Meanwhile him being the best) 

(୨୧) The Bedroom Eyes Don’t let his dorkiness fool you; when he really gets in the mood, his eyes change—like a stormy night, all intense and full of intent. He’s the kind of guy who whispers your name before he kisses you, just right before he pulls you closer, one hand in your hair. (Okay, but imagine him lowkey whispering some dirty shit in your ear, like “I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast.”)

(୨୧) The Protective Lover Let’s be real: Harry’s dangerous when he’s protective. Like, you’re in trouble? You better believe he’s about to go full rage-mode on anyone who dares harm you. And if he’s feeling super spicy? (Well, let’s just say you’d love to be pinned against a wall by those saviour arms.)

(୨୧) The Sensitive Boyfriend - He’ll listen to your problems like you’re the most important person in the world. You’re ranting about some dumb thing at work, and he’s just sitting there, nodding along, fully invested, even though half the time he doesn’t fully understand what you’re saying. He’s a good listener—and a better lover when it’s time to just show you he’s there for you. (When you feel like absolute shit, he’ll show up with snacks, a blanket, and the softest way of reminding you how much he loves you).

(୨୧) The Choking  - Okay, I’m not saying he’s into choking, but like, he’s the type to tease you just a little bit. He’d never go overboard, but during that heated moment where you’re both struggling for control, he’d totally be that guy to grip your throat just enough to have you gasping, all while looking at you with that smirk like “You like that, don’t you?” (Honestly, he could probably make you lose your mind with that sort of thing). 

(୨୧) The "I'm Not That Into You" Lie - If Harry ever said something like “I’m not that into you,” you’d be laughing and pulling him closer, because you know he’s lying. This man is obsessed with you, he just doesn’t know how to say it without feeling too exposed. (But the way he holds you in bed? No words needed, babe.)

(୨୧) The Honest Kisses - Every kiss feels like he’s giving you his soul. It's slow, tender, like he wants to savor the moment. But the second you start tugging at him, Harry’s turning up the heat—he’s kissing you harder, hands roaming because now that he’s sure you're his, he’s all in.

(୨୧) Clumsy in the Best Way - He’s constantly tripping over his own feet, knocking over glasses, and totally embarrassing himself, but in the best, most adorable way. (You’d just laugh and let him pull you in for a messy kiss, the two of you tangled up, both trying to get the other’s shirt off). So. Cute.

(୨୧) The Sweetness You Don’t Expect - For all his bravado, Harry’s the guy who remembers the little things. Like your favorite candy, the song you hum when you're happy, or that time you mentioned how you love the smell of the rain. And one day, poof, he shows up with it, looking shy but satisfied because he’s made you smile. (All the little things just make you want him even more).

(୨୧) Emotionally constipated but trying. Harry’s feelings hit him like a freight train, and he’s not great at expressing them. He’ll stare at you for an embarrassingly long time before blurting, “You’re...really important to me,” in that awkward, raspy voice. And you’re just like, “Harry, are you malfunctioning again?”

(୨୧) Domestic Harry is a gift from Merlin himself. This boy? In a t-shirt that’s a little too tight across the chest and low-hanging sweatpants while making tea in the morning? Yeah, it’s a religious experience. (Feel free to pray to Harry’s holy forearms; they deserve worship.)

(୨୧) Hot, awkward sex god vibes. Harry doesn’t know how sexy he is, which somehow makes him hotter. His hands? Big and calloused from Quidditch, and the way they grab your hips? Game over. And don’t get me started on his voice—low and raspy when he says, “Come here.” Like, YES, SIR, TAKE ME NOW.

(୨୧) Sweet but dumb declarations of love. “I think I’ve loved you since you laughed at me for falling off my broom that one time.” Like, WHAT?? (You’ll laugh, but it’s also the cutest thing ever because Harry’s love language is sincerity, and it hurts.)

(୨୧) The way he looks at you? WHEW. Those green eyes aren’t just legendary for killing Voldemort; they’re also designed to melt your soul. He’ll glance at you mid-laugh, and you’re left thinking, “Oh, so this is why people write ballads about love.”

(୨୧) That hair. Listen, Harry’s hair is a mess, but the sexy kind of mess. You’d spend hours just tugging on it (and yes, he loves that). Plus, post-Quidditch Harry with sweat-slicked hair and flushed cheeks? Yeah, good luck staying upright.

(୨୧) Harry James Potter is your personal furnace. He runs hot—like, physically. Which means winter nights = you wrapped in his arms, snug as hell. And yes, he’ll mumble sleepy, incoherent things about how perfect you are.

(୨୧) He’s a dork, and we love that man. Tripping over his own feet when you kiss him? Yes. Making bad puns in stressful situations? Also yes. Saying, “I’m not scared,” before screaming when a bug jumps? Oh, Harry. We’ll protect that boy forever.

(୨୧) Your forever hero. At the end of the day, Harry isn’t just The Chosen One—he’s your chosen one. He might be awkward, overprotective, and emotionally clueless, but he’ll love you with everything he has. And that’s more than enough.

Now the next part is gonna be spicy. (Not too much since I am feeling more romantic than horny) 

(୨୧)The Unexpected Confidence - Harry might seem shy and unsure at first, but the second things start to heat up, something shifts. It’s like all that bottled-up Gryffindor bravery comes out, and suddenly, his kisses are rougher, his grip stronger, and he’s growling your name like he’s been dying to claim you.

(୨୧) The Messy, Hungry Kisser - He kisses like he’s starving, messy and desperate, pulling you closer like he can’t stand even an inch of space between you. His hands? Oh, they’re everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, tangling in your hair like he needs to touch all of you at once.

(୨୧) Soft dom Energy - Harry isn’t the full-blown "do as I say" type, but he has this soft dominance that makes you melt. Like when he grabs your chin and tilts your head back to kiss you deeply, or when he murmurs, “Good girl, just like that,” while you’re doing something that’s very not innocent.

(୨୧) Possessive in the Hottest Way - He might not realize it, but Harry’s possessiveness shows when things get intense. He loves leaving marks—bites on your collarbone, bruises on your hips—and the way his name spills out of your mouth? That’s his favorite sound. He’ll whisper, “Say it louder.”

(୨୧) Clothes-Ripping Chaos - He’s not patient when he’s turned on. Buttons go flying, your shirt’s halfway ripped off, and he’s mumbling apologies between kisses because “I just can’t wait anymore.” (Honestly, you’re not complaining because watching him lose control is a whole mood.)

(୨୧) The Way He Uses His Mouth - Let’s talk about Harry going down. He’s the type to spend hours down there, holding your thighs open with a firm grip, moaning like he loves every second of it. He looks so good between your legs, messy hair and flushed cheeks, and he’ll glance up at you with that boyish grin before diving back in like a man on a mission.

(୨୧) The Dirty Talk Surprise - You’d never expect it, but Harry’s got a filthy mouth when he’s turned on. He’ll whisper things like, “You’re so beautiful like this,” or “You’re going to be a good girl for me, right?” And if you beg? Oh, he’s hooked. Hearing you plead for him is the ultimate turn-on.

(୨୧) The Strength You Forget He Has - Harry might not look it, but Quidditch has given him some serious strength. He can pin you to the wall, lift you up like it’s nothing, or press you down into the mattress with a grip that makes you feel completely at his mercy. And that little smirk he gives when he realizes you like it? Deadly.

(୨୧) The Slow Tease - Sometimes he likes to take his time, dragging his hands and mouth over every inch of your body, just to hear you whimper. He’ll kiss your neck, your chest, your stomach, going achingly slow until you’re practically begging him to move faster. (Spoiler: He loves hearing you beg.)

(୨୧) Post-Mission Sex Is Next-Level - After a particularly dangerous mission or a near-death experience, Harry is feral. He’s got this mix of adrenaline and relief that turns into desperate, passionate sex where he’s almost growling your name. He’ll push you against the wall, his hands rough but his kisses soft, and the way he moans, “I thought I’d lost you,” will wreck you.

(୨୧) Whispered Promises in the Heat of It - Harry loves whispering in your ear while he’s deep inside you. Things like, “You’re perfect,” or “You don’t know what you do to me,” as he grips your hips tightly and thrusts just a little harder. It’s not just sex for him—it’s pure devotion, and you feel every ounce of it in the way he moves.

(୨୧) The Aftercare King - After everything’s said and done, Harry turns back into that sweet, caring boyfriend. He’ll clean you up, press soft kisses to your forehead, and wrap you in his arms, murmuring how much he loves you. He’s the type to pull you close, trace circles on your back, and stay up just to make sure you’re okay. (It’s the perfect mix of hot and wholesome.)

(୨୧) That Smirk When He Knows You’re Watching - If you’re watching him undress—or if he catches you biting your lip while he’s shirtless—he’ll flash that cocky smirk and drag it out. 

(୨୧) Choking, But Make It Hot Harry’s hesitant at first, but the second you ask him to choke you, something snaps. His hand fits perfectly around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch, and he leans down to murmur, “You look so pretty like this.” (Goodbye. Dead.)

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

This was requested by @aceattorneyforlife. Thanks for requesting. I hope I matched your expectations and that you are happy with it.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

[tomsparkyr]

Save me? - J. Bellingham x reader

Summary: after the GlobeSoccer awards, you find yourself being chased by Paparazzi, and end up leaving with something you didn’t come with.

Footballer!reader

A/n: visit my masterlist for more!!

——————————————————————————

The Globe soccer awards dwindle in attendance as the night comes to a close, an evening of boredom but occasional awe falls behind you. Literally, while you walk away from the theatre-like award hall, and head in the direction of the Ladies toilets.

You’d come on your own, having been in Dubai for a bit of relaxation away from the hustle and bustle of your home.

You smile politely at people exiting the lavish building as you head in the opposite direction, having to contain a sliver of inner fangirl as some of your favourite footballers walk past you.

It takes you a few minutes to find the bathroom, the signs conveniently covered up by directions to bars dotted around as opposed to their original purpose.

You push the door open to find the most extravagant looking bathroom you’ve ever seen in your life. The expanse of it almost bigger than the whole bottom floor of your house (and you’re quite successful so your house is not small). Large, black, velvet sofas stretch out against the sides with gold detailing in an intricate floral pattern, the mirror stretching the expanse of wall above the sinks had little lights around the side cascading a warm gold hue, complimenting the dimly lit room beautifully. It was magnificent.

You went into one of the stalls and checked your phone, only having notifications from your agent instructing you who to network with. Oops…probably should’ve checked that earlier, you think with a grimace.

Once done, you unlock the door and head over to the sinks, washing your hands and making sure to make good use of the heavily perfumed hand soap and lotion before reaching into your handbag to touch up your lipliner.

Once happy with your appearance, you run your hands over your dress, smoothing it out and checking it in the mirror. Satisfied, you begin to head out and back into the labyrinth of hallways.

Everyone must have been in a hurry to leave, as the once overpopulated building now laid barren and desolate.

This suited you quite nicely, of course, savouring the peace and quiet as your feet scream at you for wearing your heels for too long.

You only get a few metres along the hallway, your heels sinking tenderly into the soft carpeted floor, before you hear someone attempt to talk to you.

It’s a waiter, his pristine suit and a white apron tied from the waist down giving it away. He’s looking at you with slightly panicked eyes and his hands make what looks to be a camera shape. He’s speaking to you, but in a language you don’t understand.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand?” You say, feeling somewhat helpless.

He continues speaking but your cluelessness has no avail.

“Okay. Well, have a good night. Sorry again” you say, awkwardly shuffling away as his attempts to communicate with you slow.

He waves at you with a defeated look on his face, but you can still sense some nerves from his posture.

You head towards the doors that were previously home to attendees flooding out, only to find them closed with the little windows boarded up with pieces of…card?

The two men at the door turn to look at you as they hear you approach.

“Sorry Miss, we can’t let you out this way” one of them says.

Your shoulders slump slightly, knowing the other exit is on the complete other side of the building.

“Please” you sigh “my feet are killing me, and I didn’t even want to be here in the first place, I’m exhausted and this thing lasted hours longer than I was anticipating” you try to keep the begging out of your voice but don’t succeed.

They look at each other, before the other one turns to look at you. “If you’re sure?”

“Why would I not be sure, what’s going on?” You ask.

“Well, there’s-” the same guy starts before the one that spoke to you first interrupts him, sounding entirely uninterested, “just open the doors.”

Your brows furrow at the uncertainty on the other’s face before the doors swing open and your face is assaulted by a flurry of camera flashes.

Your brain doesn’t compute what’s going on as voices shout out:

“That’s not Ronaldo” a deep voice calls from behind a camera.

No way…

The cameras holt their flashing for a moment, allowing you some time to breathe. But not for long.

“Wait, that’s y/n y/l/n!” Another voice calls, and then the cameras begin their second assault.

“bollocks” you mutter under your breath before you’re running down the hallway, attempting to flee the bombardment, ignoring the pain in your feet at every step.

“They lied! Ronaldo must be on the other side” a pap calls out and you sigh in relief as you turn the first corner of the hallway, thinking they must be leaving you alone to go and find him.

But you’re wrong, as whilst the numbers have dwindled, a crowd of paparazzi come barrelling down the hallway you’ve just run through, in pursuit of you.

So much for the door guards…

You waste no time before sprinting again, as fast as you can in your shoes, towards the bathrooms again. They’re all men, they can’t follow you in there.

You manage to put a few metres between you and the photographers, them thankfully not having the stamina of a professional athlete, giving you the upper hand.

Just as you reach the entrance to the award hall, a figure walks out.

You don’t have time to compute before you’re smashing into them, their hard chest taking the breath out of you. But you can’t stop to look, you have to keep running.

“Y/n? What?” You recognise the voice as Jude Bellingham.

You halt in your tracks for a moment before turning round and grabbing his hand before pulling him with you, forcing him to start sprinting too.

You’d met a few times doing some shoots for Adidas campaigns, so whilst your conversations were brief, you were familiar with him and so you felt you owed him the loyalty of saving him from the paparazzi.

“Keep running, trust me” you say as you turn your head to the side to see his face looking entirely confused as he easily matches your pace.

He looks over his shoulder to see the large crowd of paparazzi that he somehow hadn’t noticed as he was leaving the award hall.

“Oh dear” he says before increasing his pace, slightly dragging you behind, your hand still in his.

“I thought you were supposed to be fast” he teases, and you glare at him. How is he joking in these circumstances…

“Wear a pair of heels in your next match, then come find me and tell me if they help your speed” you bite back.

He begins to laugh but immediately stops as you yank him sideways into the women’s bathroom, finally arriving at the place you were silently begging for.

You let go of his hand, allowing him to slightly stumble into the room as you press your back against the door. You press a finger to your lips, gesturing for the man to be quiet as you listen.

“Did y/n just bring Jude Bellingham into the bathroom with her” you hear one voice say as the camera shutters finally cease.

“That will make a headline, I’m happy to go now” you hear another one say before all the shuffling outside the door stops.

You stand in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the two of you catching your breath.

Your face scrunches up as one of your palms rests on your forehead.

“You’re welcome for saving you” you say after what feels like a minute.

“Saving me? You’ve just caused a PR nightmare for me to wake up to tomorrow” he says, his face painting annoyance but his tone lets you know he’s just teasing.

“A notch in Jude Bellinghams belt.” You try out the title, “How everyone woman wishes to be described” you laugh and he does too.

“Could be worse, Modric was right behind me. At least this is age appropriate” he jests as he flops his lean body onto one of the sofas you were admiring earlier.

“Are you assuming I like dating men my own age, Bellingham?” You squint your eyes at him, your voice full of sarcasm.

“Oh no, by all means go for a 39 year old man” the smirk on his face causing your stomach flip, a feeling you’re used to whenever you speak to him at shoots, albeit it only short conversations.

You laugh, a sound his smile widens at as you walk over to the mirror, fixing your hair after the events of the last five minutes have displaced some strands.

“I believe congratulations are in order” you say as you look at him, your gaze meeting his in the mirror, “where are your two awards anyway?”

“My mum took them back to our hotel, she left as she was tired but I stayed for a drink with a mate” he replies, moving to a sitting position, leaning back on the sofa, arms spread over the back and legs apart.

God he’s attractive…for a man-spreader, of course.

“So you didn’t take a 39 year old date with you?” You smirk as you turn to look at him, pushing yourself up onto the counter next to the sinks and crossing a leg over the other.

“Nah, not my type” he shrugs with a smirk mirroring yours.

“But thank you, for your congratulations” he starts before his face turns in confusion, “what are you doing here anyway, these awards are just for male footballers. Are you someone’s date?” He asks with a slight edge to his voice, making you tilt your head to the side.

“Was that jealousy I heard there” you raise a brow.

“Who am I going to talk to during long campaign shoots if your whisked away by a boyfriend on set with you?” He jokes, pouting his bottom lip.

You giggle, “I’m here because I was holidaying here anyway and so my agent thought it would be a good ‘networking’ opportunity. You know, show my face at an award show that’s got big stars like you in attendance.”

“Do you need networking? You’re quite a household name in women’s football, are you not?” He says with a smile.

“Different audience in men’s versus women’s football i guess?” You shrug, tiredness weighing on you.

“Fair enough. Don’t think your agent is going to be happy with the kind of press you’ll come out with after the newspapers are published tomorrow” he sighs.

“You’d be surprised. He actually suggested I fake date this Swedish model just to get my name recognised outside of England” you laugh, a slight edge of bitterness in your voice.

“What?!” Jude barks out a laugh, throwing his head back as a smile grows on your face.

“Yep. Only got out of it by saying I was ill and didn’t want to infect the guy” you admit, not having told anyone that before.

“You need a new agent” he tsks, shaking his head.

“Trust me, I’m working on it” you say, looking around the room. Your eyes light up when you see something to your left.

A gasp leaves your lips causing Jude to look at you.

You push yourself off the counter, and head over to the little table near the entrance of the bathroom.

A metal bucket filled with chilled water, no doubt melted ice, and an unopened bottle of very expensive looking champagne with a few glasses on the side.

You pick up the metal tray the items lay on before taking it over to the sofa where Jude moves to create space for you.

“What on earth is that in here for?” He asks, his voice filled with joy.

“I guess it’s promotional?” You answer, reading the label.

He nods and picks up two glasses, holding them out to you, “we might as well, probably safe to hide in here for a while and let the paps disperse.”

“Are you really going to make me pop the bottle?” You sigh, to which he nods.

You go to take the cork out the top, somewhat succeeding apart from the fact to cork flies out of your hands and into the ceiling, leaving a tiny dent.

“Oh my god” you say, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it.

Jude begins cackling, “and that is why I wanted you to open it”

You shake your head before filling up the glasses, he hands one to you after you put the bottle back into the metal bucket.

“Cheers to your awards” you say, smiling at him as you hold your glass up for him to cheers.

He does so with a nod in thanks, before you both take a sip.

Your gaze snaps to his, the liquid resting in your mouth. His eyes meet yours, before swallowing it with a grimace.

“God that’s awful” he proclaims, his mouth open in disgust.

You swallow as you stare at him, having almost spat yours out at the look on his face.

“Yeah, there was always going to be a reason the bottle was unopened” you say in regret, your expression matching his.

You stare at him for a moment before linking your arm holding your glass, with his.

“Down the hatch?” You ask, and he nods, the both of you emptying the contents of the glass into your mouths, your arms intertwined.

You shake your head as you finish the last drop, “vile, so so vile” you say.

“Agreed. But it’s free alcohol” he proposes with an eyebrow raise.

“As if you need anything to be free” you tease him, and he smirks.

“What can I say?” He teases and you push your tongue into the side of your cheek.

“You can say ‘thanks for saving me’?” You suggest with a laugh and he nods sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, thanks so much for saving me. So glad I ended up stuck in the women’s bathroom drinking champagne that tastes like it’s from the toilet” he mocks with a smile as he pours another glass.

“You’re welcome!” You match his tone before taking his arm and knocking back another glass.

“So, how’ve you been since I last saw you?” He asks, his full attention on you.

“I’ve been good. Christmas was nice, saw all of my family. Scored lots of goals in recent matches, as per” you smirk.

“Yeah? I’ve been watching a few of your matches actually. Only really watched the England matches before but since we met, I’ve watched a few league games too. I get what all the fuss is about now” he says, taking a sip from his freshly filled glass.

“Yeah people tend to overlook women’s football, but it’s actually not bad” you reply.

“Not the fuss about football” he starts, “the fuss about you”

His gaze is intense as he looks for a reaction, “I don’t get awards for nothing, Bellingham. I’m actually very good” you say, drinking out of your own glass.

“Yeah, you are. But don’t tell me you don’t know you’re all over tiktok with teenage boys obsessing over you” he says with a raised brow.

“Ah, you’ve seen the edits” you laugh, and he nods. “Guess that makes two of us with an avid fan base on tiktok.”

“So you’ve seen the edits of me then?” He asks, his voice full of humour.

“Don’t go thinking I searched for them, they just pop up occasionally” you weakly defend yourself.

“On your for you page. Which is made for you. Based on what you’ve liked and viewed in the past?” He teases, the biggest and handsomist smirk you’ve ever seen on his face.

“If you’ve seen mine, then you’ve stitched yourself up too” you poke back at him and he holds his hands up.

“You’ve got me” he sighs.

“But yeah, I’m not blind, maybe I do like the edits I’ve seen” you say, the alcohol loosening your lips.

“Makes two of us” he shoots back just as easily, seeming unphased at the admission.

“Where’s this all coming from?” You ask, not shy at all, feeling perfectly comfortable with the man sat beside you suited up in all his glory.

“Never had the chance to tell you. You’re a busy lady” he quips.

“Well, you could’ve followed me back on Instagram and send me a message” you turn to look at him.

“First, I didn’t know you followed me and I was too shy to follow you first. Second, I’ll do you one better” he says and you gesture for him to continue.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

He taps on the screen for a few moments before holding his phone up to you, “smile.”

You do as he says as you hold your glass of champagne up and pose sweetly.

Your cheeks heat up at the way he’s looking at you through the screen before he passes his phone to you with a contact page open, your name and the picture waiting to have your number added.

You type your number in as you try desperately hard to act like this isn’t what you’ve wanted for months.

“Okay that is better” you say as you hand the phone back to him.

He presses the button, and your phone starts ringing from your handbag.

You raise a brow as if to say ‘really?’.

“What? Just got to make sure you aren’t lying to me” he bites back a smile.

“I’d never lie to you” you tease as you save his contact.

The two of you stay like that for what ends up being an hour, finishing the bottle and having a proper conversation like the both of you have desired since you first met, not the surface level chatter you have during shoots.

You’re both suitably drunk as he holds his hand out for you, helping you out of the taxi that’s now parked in front of the hotel.

“Wait a moment, please mate. Just going to walk her up to her room” he says, leaning back into the car to talk to the taxi driver once you’d gotten out.

Wordlessly, he takes off his suit jacket and wraps it around your shoulders as his hand finds the small of your back to guide you into the hotel.

You lead him to the elevator, where you press your floor number and wait for the door to close.

Once it’s closed, you lean into his chest, resting your head on the hard surface you’d crashed into earlier.

He smiles softly and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

You inhale the smell of his expensive cologne and allow your eyes to flutter shut for a moment.

“Y/n” Jude whispers your name, making you pull away from him and look up at him.

“Hmm?”

“You’re beautiful” he murmurs, his lips against your forehead as he pulls you back to him.

“Thank you, Jude. You’re jaw droppingly gorgeous” you say and a deep laugh rumbles through his chest.

“Okay I was going to say those exact words but I thought I’d better play it cool” he jests and it’s your turn to laugh now, looking up so your faces fall only a few centimetres away from each other.

You can’t hold back any longer, you go to move your lips close to his, but before you can, his soft lips are on yours.

It takes you a moment to process but you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and deepen the kiss, allowing him to explore you in a way he’d been wanting to for months.

You’re in a peaceful bliss, until the elevator door opens, having reached your floor.

You don’t care to pull away, and nor does Jude, until you hear the all too familiar shutter of a camera.

You jump away from him as the both of you turn to look in the direction of the sound, to see a lone photographer looking like he’s just stumbled upon a goldmine.

“oh, for fu-”

——————————————————————————

[tomsparkyr]

When You’re Here

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Summary: Jude, missing you deeply, is overwhelmed with joy and love when you surprise him by showing up at the Bernabéu to watch him play.

Word Count: 3.1K

Author’s note: I had this in my requests for a while, sorry for the delay, hope you love it anon! 🤍

Jude’s typical training day demeanor was straightforward: laser-focused. On any other day, he’d immerse himself fully in the drills and exercises, cracking a joke here and there during breaks but tuning everything else out when it came time to work. Today, though? Today was different. Yesterday was the same. In fact, he hadn’t been himself for weeks — ever since you left for that work trip.

Normally, Jude could handle brief separations. He was no stranger to them, away games you couldn’t attend or your quick business trips that lasted a week, tops. But this time was different. You had been gone for almost a month, and Jude was on the verge of losing it.

Sure, you two FaceTimed every night before bed. You called whenever you had a spare moment. You texted back and forth throughout the day, as much as your schedules allowed. But none of it felt like enough for Jude. He wanted you there with him — not just virtually, but physically. He needed to feel the warmth of your presence, to hold you, to have you by his side. The emptiness of your absence seemed to grow louder with every passing day.

“This is probably the 20th time you’ve checked your phone, bro,” Camavinga teased, breaking Jude out of his spiraling thoughts. Jude wiped the sweat from his face with a towel, phone in hand for what felt like the millionth time today, scanning for a reply that still hadn’t come.

Jude sighed, tossing the towel aside. “I texted her, and she hasn’t responded,” he muttered, his frustration slipping out in his tone.

Camavinga chuckled. “She’s probably busy, man.”

Jude nodded half-heartedly, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, maybe,” he admitted, though the crease in his brow remained.

“How long’s it been since you texted her?” Vini chimed in.

Jude blinked, glancing back at his phone to check. His teammates knew you well. They’d met you often at team dinners and events, where you were always effortlessly charming, seamlessly blending into their lively banter. They also knew how hopelessly smitten Jude was with you — and, admittedly, they’d been enduring his constant moping and wistful sighs for weeks now.

“Fifteen minutes,” Jude declared, as if that was an eternity, his voice tinged with irritation. He tossed his phone onto the bench with a thud.

The boys exchanged amused glances before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

Jude shook his head, his lips twitching in reluctant amusement. “You lot are useless,” he muttered, though a soft chuckle escaped him.

He sat down next to them, stretching his legs and trying, and failing, to shift his focus back to training. He knew logically that you weren’t ignoring him. You had a demanding job that kept you busy, and the rational part of him understood that you’d reply the moment you had a free moment. But logic wasn’t winning against the ache of missing you.

The truth was, Jude wasn’t just annoyed or impatient, he felt incomplete without you. Over time, he’d come to realize how deeply you’d become woven into his life. You weren’t just his partner; you were his peace in the chaos, his constant in the mess of fame and football. You made him laugh when nothing else could, listened when he needed to vent, and brought a light into his life that felt irreplaceable.

And now, without you here, that light felt dimmer. He was counting the hours, the minutes, until he could have you back in his arms.

After working out for a while, Jude decided to take a break. He grabbed his phone again, and this time, relief washed over him as he saw your name lighting up his screen with a new message. His face lit up instantly, the weight of his frustration and sadness dissolving in an instant. A humongous smile spread across his face as he eagerly opened the message and began typing a reply.

For those few minutes, he felt like himself again. Chatting with you, even briefly, was enough to lift his spirits and give him the boost he desperately needed. But all too soon, he had to return to training. Reluctantly, he said goodbye, promising to talk later.

As Jude put his phone back and glanced up, he caught a reflection in the mirror that made him pause. Rodrygo was mimicking him with an exaggerated, love-struck grin, pretending to text on an invisible phone. Vini, standing beside him, was silently cracking up, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

Jude grabbed his towel and tossed it at the pair, hitting Rodrygo square in the chest. “Idiots,” he muttered with a half-smile, shaking his head. Their laughter only grew louder, echoing through the training area.

The rest of the session passed uneventfully, but Jude’s mood was noticeably lighter after talking to you. Once training wrapped up, he showered and headed back to his room at Valdebebas. The exhaustion from the day caught up with him, and he longed to be home in his own bed. But more than that, he wished you were there beside him.

Lying in bed, Jude grabbed his phone to FaceTime you, a nightly ritual whenever the two of you were apart. Truthfully, he missed home more when you weren’t there, mainly because when you weren’t around, he found himself hugging your pillow as he slept. It was a habit he wouldn’t dare admit to anyone, not even you.

When your face appeared on his screen, it was as if the entire world shifted back into focus. “Hi, baby,” you greeted him with your sweet voice, and the stress that had been weighing on his chest dissipated instantly.

“Hey, my love. How was your day?” he asked, propping himself up against the pillows.

You started talking about your day, how busy and tiring it had been, but also how much you missed him. Jude sighed as he listened, nodding along with a soft smile, though the longing in his heart grew with every word.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow’s game?” you asked, noticing the subtle tension in his expression as he rubbed his face, clearly trying to shake off his frustration.

“Fine, I guess,” he replied, his voice low and filled with fatigue. “We should do well. I just wish you were here.”

Your heart ached at the way his voice softened when he said that. “Aww, Jude. I miss you so much. I wish I could be there too,” you admitted, your voice laden with emotion. You missed everything about him — his scent, his warm hugs, the way he’d kiss your forehead, the silly songs he’d hum, even the soft snoring you used to tease him about.

“I always play better when you’re here supporting me,” he said, his words carrying the weight of truth. It was something he’d told you many times before, and he meant every word. When you were in the stands, cheering him on, he felt like he could conquer anything.

“You will be watching, though, right?” he asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. He knew you never missed his games, even when you were busy, and the thought of you not being there, even virtually, dampened his spirits.

You hesitated, biting your lip. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you had to for the sake of the surprise. “I’ll try my best to watch, baby. I have a meeting at the same time as the match, but I’ll do everything I can to catch some of it,” you said apologetically.

Jude’s face fell slightly, and the sight of his disappointment tugged at your heartstrings. “Okay,” he said quietly, trying to mask his sadness.

“I’ll be supporting you from afar, love. You know I love you so much,” you said, hoping to cheer him up.

“I love you too. More than anything,” he replied, his voice firm despite his obvious exhaustion.

“Get some rest now, okay? You need to be ready for tomorrow,” you reminded him gently. You could see the sleepiness in his eyes, but you knew he’d never be the one to end the call first. Jude loved hearing your voice so much that he’d rather fall asleep mid-conversation than hang up.

“Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his eyelids growing heavier.

“Goodnight, Jude. Sweet dreams,” you whispered, watching as he slowly drifted off, still clutching the phone.

Match days for Jude had always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but not in the way most people might think. While he naturally felt a bit of anxiety before stepping onto the pitch, the dominant emotions coursing through him were always motivation and determination. Jude was fiercely dedicated, a player who thrived on focus and precision, never allowing his nerves to get the better of him.

As part of his pre-match ritual, Jude strolled onto the pitch long before the stadium filled with roaring fans. With his headphones on, he stepped onto the pristine grass, taking a slow walk around the grounds. It was his way of grounding himself, visualizing the game ahead, and soaking in the calm before the storm. The music in his ears created a protective bubble, letting him zone in on the task at hand.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the vibration of his phone in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and saw your name flashing with an incoming FaceTime call. A small frown formed on his face as he answered — it wasn’t like you to call so close to your big meeting.

“Hey, gorgeous,” your voice greeted him, warm and teasing, immediately cutting through the hum of pre-match nerves.

“Hey,” he replied, slipping one hand into his pocket as he cradled the phone in the other. “How’s it going halfway across the world?”

You smirked, tilting the camera just enough to give him a better view of your face. “Work’s been good, but I wouldn’t say I’m quite halfway across the world anymore.”

Jude squinted at the screen, his brows furrowing. Something about the background behind you seemed… familiar. He also noticed the collar of the shirt you were wearing, it looked suspiciously like a Real Madrid jersey.

“Wait… where are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“What do you mean?” you replied with an innocent tone, though the twitch of your lips betrayed your amusement.

“That—” He leaned closer to the screen, narrowing his eyes. “That looks like a stadium behind you.”

Feigning confusion, you turned the camera slightly, revealing a glimpse of the unmistakable seats of the Bernabéu. “Oh, this place? Yeah, it’s kinda cool. Thought I’d check it out.”

Jude froze, his jaw going slack as the realization hit him. “No way. Are you—? You’re here?!”

“Surprise!” you exclaimed, flipping the camera to fully reveal yourself standing by the edge of the pitch, already decked out in his jersey.

He ran a hand on his face, his heart skipping a beat. Quickly, he glanced around the stadium, which was still mostly empty since the game was hours away. When his eyes found you, waving at him from the sidelines and blowing him a kiss, his entire face lit up. If it weren’t for the cameras and a few teammates milling around, he might have jumped up and down like an overexcited kid. Instead, he settled for a wide, uncontrollable grin.

“Are you serious? You didn’t tell me? When did you get here?” His gaze flicked back to his phone, needing to see your face up close.

“This morning,” you replied with a playful shrug. “I wanted to see that priceless look on your face.”

Jude shook his head, his grin so wide it almost hurt. His chest felt impossibly full, his heart pounding in a way no pre-match ritual could replicate. “You’re unreal,” he murmured, his voice brimming with disbelief and affection.

“You’re welcome,” you teased, leaning casually against the railing. “Now go out there and show me why I flew all this way.”

He chuckled, shaking his head again. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You scored a few goals, I guess,” you replied with a wink, making him laugh.

“I’ll score ten tonight if it means you’ll keep surprising me like this.” His tone softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through. “Thank you for being here. It means everything.”

“Always,” you said, your voice tender and sincere. “Now go win us that game.”

With one last look, he ended the call, his chest swelling with newfound energy. He felt unstoppable.

The game began with Real Madrid dominating right from the first whistle. The team controlled the pace effortlessly, holding possession, creating chances, and putting pressure on the opposition. Jude was a maestro on the pitch, gliding with the ball as if it were an extension of himself. His mind occasionally flickered to you, sitting somewhere in the stands, watching him. The thought of you there, cheering for him, filled him with an unmatched drive.

The match was electric. Vinícius scored the opening goal with a stunning strike, followed by Rodrygo slotting one in with finesse. Jude orchestrated the midfield, dictating the flow of the game, and his every move seemed to hum with purpose. Victory felt inevitable, and the energy in the stadium was palpable.

In moments of brief stillness on the pitch, Jude would glance toward the stands, knowing you were there, proud and beaming. It pushed him to play harder, better, with every passing minute.

The atmosphere at the Bernabéu was electric, as always. The fans roared with passion, their energy pulsating through the stadium. The game had been going spectacularly well, but Jude had one thing on his mind — a goal. His performance had been stellar, commanding the midfield with his usual elegance and precision. But scoring in front of you after so long felt essential. You hadn’t watched him play in person in what felt like forever, and he wanted this goal to be just for you.

As the minutes ticked down, Jude's focus sharpened. While directing the game from midfield, he kept scanning for spaces to exploit, calculating every opportunity to find the net. And then, as if fate had aligned perfectly, the ball came flying toward him off a cross. He surged forward, meeting it with a powerful header that sailed past the keeper and into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted. The cheers were deafening, a symphony of celebration as his teammates rushed to embrace him. Jude stood there, soaking it all in, arms wide open in his iconic celebration. Yet, despite the roaring applause and the love from tens of thousands of fans, all he could think about was you. He imagined your radiant smile, your eyes shining with pride. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

He kissed the badge on his chest, but as he waved to the crowd, his gaze flickered up toward the VIP section. He knew you were watching, and the thought filled him with an unmatched sense of accomplishment. Taking a deep breath, he let the adrenaline rush through him, knowing the game, and his night, couldn’t have gone any better.

The final whistle blew, sealing the victory. The Bernabéu buzzed with excitement, the fans still chanting his name long after the match ended. But Jude’s thoughts weren’t on the post-match celebrations or the cameras following his every move. His focus was singular: you.

In the tunnel, his teammates teased him mercilessly. “In a rush, mate?” one of them quipped. “Someone special waiting for you?”

Jude only laughed, brushing off the comments as he hurried through his post-match routine. A quick change, a few celebratory high fives with his teammates, and a rapid cleanup later, he was finally free. Emerging near the VIP area, his eyes scanned the space eagerly until they landed on you.

You stood by the railing, his jersey hanging slightly oversized on your frame, a grin lighting up your face as your eyes met his. Jude didn’t think — he moved. Jogging straight toward you, he ignored the curious glances from onlookers, his entire world narrowing down to the sight of you.

“You,” he murmured as he reached you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. His hands slid around your waist, lifting you off the ground slightly as he buried his face in your neck. The familiar scent of your perfume washed over him, and in that moment, it felt like coming home. Holding you after so long filled the emptiness that had grown inside him.

“You were incredible,” you whispered, your arms tightening around his shoulders. “Man of the match, Mr. Bellingham.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his cheeks flushed from the game and the overwhelming joy of having you there. “You don’t know how much it meant to see you up there tonight,” he said, his voice soft. His eyes held that familiar twinkle you adored, a warmth that only appeared when he looked at you.

“Seeing you score was worth every minute of the flight,” you teased, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek. “Not bad for someone who’s been pouting over FaceTime all month.”

He laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” you replied with a grin, your fingers playing with the hem of his jersey.

Jude leaned closer, his voice dropping low so only you could hear. “You know, I was planning to dedicate that goal to you. But I figured kissing the badge was slightly less obvious than blowing a kiss to the VIP box.”

“Smooth,” you quipped, your eyes sparkling. “Guess I’ll take it.”

“Take this too,” he said, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. Though quick, it was impossibly tender, a moment that conveyed everything he felt for you. Jude had a way of making even the simplest gestures feel like declarations of love, and this was no exception.

The world around you blurred. Despite the residual chaos of the stadium, the two of you stood in a little bubble of intimacy, your connection shutting out everything else.

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

“Where else would I go?” you replied, taking his hand in yours.

“Good,” he said, intertwining your fingers with his. “Because after tonight, you’re not allowed to leave again.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though the smile on your lips betrayed your amusement. “We’ll see about that, superstar.”

“Oh, it’s not up for debate,” Jude replied confidently, squeezing your hand as he led you toward the exit.

And with that, the night belonged to the two of you — a perfect ending to a perfect day.

[tomsparkyr]

Interview~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18, smut

The match between Tottenham and Chelsea had just ended, and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The historical rivalry between the two teams had given an incredible show, but of all the players on the field, one had shined more than the others: Levi Colwill. The young Chelsea defender had been a wall, cancelling out any attempts by the opponents to score. He was voted "Man of the Match" and, as a sports journalist, your job was to interview him.

With the microphone in your hand and the earpiece updating you on live time, you positioned yourself in the mixed zone, where players passed for interviews. When Levi approached, his gaze immediately caught yours. Those intense and hungry eyes you felt a warmth inside but ignored the feeling. You had to be professional.

"Levi, an incredible performance today. You literally closed every space. How do you feel after such a strong game?" you asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

He smiled at you, a smile full of energy that is hard to decipher. "It was tough, but these are the games you love to play. Against Tottenham, in a derby so heartfelt... You know you have to give it all. And today we proved that we are a united team."

As he spoke, his gaze did not detach from yours. You felt a strange tension grow, as if there was something unsaid between you. You tried to concentrate. It was just the usual charisma of a top athlete, you said.

"You’ve stopped Son on more than one occasion, which is no small thing. How did you prepare this match knowing that you would have to face such a dangerous striker?"

He nodded, giving you another smile. "Son is one of the best in the world, so I knew I had to be at my best. But I like this kind of challenge. It’s what motivates me to improve, push myself beyond my limits."

As he answered, you noticed how his eyes wandered over your face, lingering slightly longer than necessary. His smile became more and more mischievous, and you felt a shiver down your back. But you were live, and you kept going.

"Last question, Levi. What is the message you want to send to the Chelsea fans after such an important victory?"

He smiled again, a smile that seemed more personal. "Our goal is to win. Always. Today we have made a big step, but the work doesn’t end there. Thanks to the fans for their support. It is also thanks to them that we play with so much passion."

You closed the interview thanking him, trying to ignore that strange feeling that had accompanied you all along. Levi nodded, and took one last look at you before leaving.

---

After a while, as you were trying to relax from the tension of the live show, you decided to go to the bathroom in the stadium to settle down. It was a quiet moment after the frenzy of the game and the interview. But as soon as you walked in, you heard the door open behind you. You turned, and found yourself face to face with Levi.

"I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon," you said, trying to mask the surprise.

He didn’t answer immediately. He came closer, his eyes even more intense now that you were alone. "You are always so professional, huh?" He said with a smile, but his voice was different, lower, almost provocative.

You tried to keep control. "I try to do my job," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "Is there anything that you need?"

"Maybe," he said, getting closer again. Now it was so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. " You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me during the interview."

"How did I look at you?" you asked, trying to seem indifferent, even if your heart was beating fast.

He didn’t answer your question but was smiling and was getting closer to you

"I noticed," he said, with a grin that made you shiver. "And you know what? I like it."

You didn’t have time to answer. Before you knew it, he’d gently pushed you towards the sink, his hands finding their place on your hips. Your breath was blocked when her lips found yours. It was an intense kiss, full of the same passion that she had shown in the field.

For a moment, you forgot everything: your work, professionalism, context. There was only him, and you, and that strange alchemy that seemed to explode every time your eyes met.

His lips broke away from yours, and for a moment your breaths were the only sound in the room. Levi looked at you with a defiance, almost provocative smile, as if he knew exactly what effect it had on you.

"What’s the matter?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, his voice low and almost amused. "You don’t look so professional now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to regain control of the situation. " And you don’t seem so focused on your victory," you replied, but your voice trembled slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions within you.

He smiled, spreading his legs to get in the middle." Maybe it’s because there is something more interesting here," he said, biting your lower lip slightly and you whimpered.

Your heart has skipped a beat. " Levi, you’re not funny," you said, trying to look stern, but your lips were already bending into a half smile.

"Oh, I’m very serious," he replied. This time, his fingers touched your hand, a light touch, almost random, but enough to hold your breath. " You know, I’m not a quitter. Neither in the field nor outside."

"You always have a strategy, don’t you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, as your faces drew closer again.

"That’s right," he said, the tone of his voice now lower, almost intimate. "And I usually win."

You couldn’t resist. With a strong gesture, you grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him more towards you as you began to rub your hips on his cock. He let it happen, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"You’re too sure of yourself,' you said, looking into his eyes as you tried to hide a moan by feeling his hard cock.

"Maybe because I’m right," he replied, his voice a whisper that made you tremble.

You didn’t answer, at least not with words. Your hands slipped behind his back, and you pulled him into a deeper, more urgent kiss. This time, it was as if you had both dropped all claims. His hands grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer, while you kept rubbing and making both of you groan.

"I thought you were trying to stay professional" he murmured against your lips, interrupting the kiss only for a moment.

"You have a special talent for making me change my mind," you replied, before picking it up again, this time with even more passion.

---

And there you were in the stadium bathroom sitting on the sink with your little dress half up while you were letting Levi fuck you.

"So good at taking my cock," Levi muttered as he smiled arrogantly as he merrily bangs his big hard dick in and out of you.

You groaned as you clung to him more feeling so good. You were trying not to scream but his cock that was banging in and out of you seemed impossible.

"Come on baby make others feel you’re a bitch in need for me" he whispered near your ear and then nibbled your lobe making you whine while your pussy was holding his cock and he groaned as he buried himself further inside.

You took Levi’s face softly and kissed him with pure passion, hunger and desire.

He groans in the kiss as he keeps pushing his cock inside you. His tongue enters your mouth, exploring it.

You began to wave your hips against his. You slowly moved away from the kiss and he didn’t waste time attacking your neck by starting to kiss and suck your weak point.

You groaned for bliss as you flapped your hips towards him for more.

"It’s so big" you whimpered and he kept banging his cock inside of you, groaning as you kept moaning out loud not caring about people who could hear you, you were close and he knew.

He started pushing faster as he was holding his hand on your neck making you whine and you came on his cock.

He continued pushing his cock inside you more harshly, you knew that he was also coming to his high, you decided to arch your back as you began to scratch his back feeling how he was piercing you with his dick, Levi lowered his head on your neck nibbling at your skin as he continued to penetrate you. He came with one blow and sighed again in your neck.

He raised his head and kissed you softly, and you kissed back.

"How about I take you on a date, huh?" Levi whispered next to your lips and you smiled.

[tomsparkyr]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎short ‘n sweet ❋

★ face claim: sabrina carpenter

◆ warnings: a little bit of spanish & uses of y/n

♥︎ pairing: joão félix x singer!reader

liked by zendaya, joaofelix79, and 904,256 others

yourusername london!! thank you for all the love and for such a beautiful crowd, see you soon 🩷

user1: can’t believe i saw you in person shjdhsvjsgs

user2: joão liked??‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ➤ user3: he was there my guy‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ user4 replied to user3: wait actually????

zendaya: stunning the whole world ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎➤ yourusername: im literally in love with you ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ➤ user5 replied to yourusername: so real for this

user6: so we’re all gonna ignore that joão literally went to her concert?!?!?!‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎➤ user7: shes gonna steal him from me 😔😔‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎➤ user8 replied to user7: go outside

jennaortega: beautiful girl

user9: i love youuuuuu

user10: come home the kids miss you

debbyryan: so talented 💕

user11: literal perfection

icespice: marry me‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎➤ yourusername: 💍

user12: juno pose tn was sooo 😫

——————

liked by joaofelix79, jennaortega and 427,972 others

yourusername 💙

joaofelix79: 🔥 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ - liked by author

user1: joão’s commenting now?? yeahhh there’s definitely something there

user2: y/n you’re still on tour don’t become a wag noww 😖‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎➤ user3: she doesn’t know you gang

jennaortega: never seen you care about soccer until now 👀‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ yourusername: shhh 🤫

user4: she’s at his games now this is not a drill 🚨‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ user5: imagine they were like “if i go to your game you have to go to my concert” 😭🙏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ - liked by author‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ user6 replied to user5: holy shit y/n liked it you may be onto something ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎➤ user5 replied to user6: oh my god y/n noticed me im so goated

ariana_greenblatt: are we serious

user7: chelsea just gained a BADDIE 🙏

user8: chelsea fan what a green flag

tyla: they’re trying to take you from me 😔‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎➤ yourusername: i would never leave you bbg 🫦

user9: chelsea has y/n while city has ice spice 🤣

user10: WAIT THAT’S WHY JOÃO POINTED AT THE STANDS WHEN HE SCORED A GOAL?!?!?!?!?

——————

liked by yourusername, reece, and 998,062 others

joaofelix79 +3 points 💙

yourusername: 😍😍‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎- liked by author ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ user1: just hard launch atp

user2: i’m heartbroken y/n stole my bf ☹️

user3: you look so gooddd

lamineyamal: @ pablogavi mira mira mira 😭😭😂‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ➤ pablogavi: te estamos viendo joão 😂😂🤣

user4: you you you youuu 🫦

nonzinoo10: 👀🤣

marcguiu9: 🔥

user5: pointin toward y/n i see

user6: bae imy please come home ill be a housewife 4u

user7: que guapo 😫

pedroneto_30: joãooo 🔥🤩

user8: i don’t blame him y/n is so bad omfg 🙇🏻‍♀️

user9: my guy dropped a masterclass when y/n was in the stands 😭🙏

——————

show replies

xuser1: lowkey such a power couple they’re both sooo hot

xuser2: i’m happy for them icl

xuser3: who even is joao felix‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤‎ xuser4: a world famous footballer?? have you lived under a rock the last 2 years?

xuser5: he’s finally over magui 🥳

xuser5: their kids are actually gonna be perfect

xuser6: she stole joão from me 💔

xuser7: i hope this doesn’t end bad for them

xuser8: she was supposed to marry me 😖

xuser9: does he even speak english‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ xuser10: he lives in london use your brain

——————

liked by joaofelix79, zendaya, and 2,047,027 others

yourusername 💘

joaofelix79: 🫀‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎- liked by author

user1: so we’re all gonna ignore that y/n and joão felix just launched their RELATIONSHIP???

lamineyamal: @ pablogavi te dije cabron ahora me debes 20 euros 🤣🤣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ➤ pablogavi: 😭😂😂 no te voy a pagar tío

user2: chat i want them both 😫

jennaortega: what about me 💔‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎➤ yourusername: we’re literally married wym?? 🫦

user3: might be the hottest couple rn

user4: guys i need edits of them ASAP

zendaya: so cutee 💕

user5: they’re so cute i wonder how they met

user6: you can tell joão’s been plotting on y/n 🤣

megdonnelly: bby imy you’re stunning 🤩

user7: i’m in love w this pairing omfgg

user8: they unexpectedly fit sooo well together

tysm for reading! all likes, reposts, and comments are welcome and very appreciated!!

[tomsparkyr]

jealous accident - jonah simms

summary: jonah can’t help his jealousy and accidentally outs his crush to the whole team.

warnings: jonah simms x fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, jokes about vomit, the gc bullying each other, and obviously sandra slander

i finally wrote who cheered?!?! anyways, i’m obsessed with superstore rn, i promise i’ll get back to the criminal minds stuff soon, but as of right now im IN LOVE w jonah simms. pls say yall can relate to this. also my message app thing updated so now i cant add more than 7 people wtff.

anyways! send some cm requests my way!

[tomsparkyr]

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ❞✧∘ ✭・.✫・゜·。.

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a bestfriend!steve harrington roommate au slightly inspired by the tv show “friends” ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

a year in the lives of you and your best friend steve harrington. you never thought that you would be living with this guy you’ve known since you were ten— although it was a hypothetical topic that was discussed at length during the many sleepovers you had over the years. but somehow on a hectic day in august, the stars managed to align, and the next thing you know a lease is being signed and the two of you are moving into a two-bedroom apartment. so far it’s been two months of countless late nights and too many really early mornings where you’re running late to class or steve’s rushing to get to his shift at family video. for the most part, though, it’s a perfect situation. until the lines that felt as if they were clearly drawn in the sand— and had been there from perhaps the moment you and him met— start getting blurrier and blurrier

warnings: bestfriend!steve, roommate!steve, childhood best friends to (eventual) lovers, two idiots in love (but neither wanna admit it), Big Big slow burn, besties being besties, minimal angst, mainly just a lot of fun vibes, eventual smut (minors dni!), many familiar faces (robin, eddie, sometimes the kids), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

important note! this will be a very “low stakes” series (there’s not really a super specific storyline happening in this), and i’m really just gonna post for it whenever i’m in the mood/feel inspired for it. i already have a bunch of random ideas for this universe that i wanna eventually do, but requests are open for anything you wanna see with these roommates/besties<333 (also oneshots/blurbs will be posted non-chronologically but will be listed chronologically, so you can pretty much read in any order you want to!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・��.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

fall 1985

love is a game (the one where you and steve have a “housewarming party”)

let’s forget it (the one where steve sees you naked)

third street (the one at the diner in the middle of the night)

silly promises (the one at dairy queen)

take a picture (the one with batman & robin)

from the dining table (the one with the early thanksgiving dinner)

never talk about it (the one where you see steve naked)

just a feeling (the one with steve’s date)

winter 1985/1986

the first fall of snow (the one where the kids spend the night)

care for you (the one where you’re both sick)

maybe this year (the one with the bet)

closing time (the one at family video)

while you were sleeping (the one with steve’s epiphany)

only for you (the one where you and steve play basketball)

in the middle of the night (the one with the ski trip)

worth waiting for (the one after the ski trip) (18+)

spring 1986

between you and me (the one where you and steve are secretly dating)

tell me a secret (the one where everyone finds out)

take my hand (the one where you and steve are chaperones at a school dance)

stay with me (the one where you come home drunk and steve takes care of you)

much better (the one with the "celebratory dinner")

summer 1986

one more second (the one with the barbecue)

out for the night (the one with the party at the lake)

[tomsparkyr]

having a baby with joao felix!! dad! joao headcanons!)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

summary: a headcanon of what having a baby boy with joao would be like!

thank you for the request love this !! keep those reqs comin' xxx

joao felix x fem!reader

dad!joao felix headcanon

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

starting with how joao got you pregnant!

it was definitely after he scored for barca against atletico madrid

the celebrations went hard ok

after the game he went home to you and kissed you like you were the only person on this world

and this was translated into the bedroom

then a couple weeks after that day you started to feel unwell

and after a handful of times where joao was holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you spilled your guts into the toilet, you two took the responsible route and bought a pregnancy test

you took the test when joao wasn’t home and was on an away game so you were extremely nervous

sitting for 2 minutes in an empty apartment without hearing joao’s loud tiktoks on his phone made your stomach twist

you had facetimed him while you waited for the results and his barca teammates peered over his shoulder and watched you wait in the bathroom, pacing up and down

“name the child fermin!” “shut up!”

when the test came back positive you genuinely screamed

you turned the camera around and showed joao the positive test, you couldn’t see much but from the loud cheers and the sound of the phone being dropped, you assumed him and his teammates were over the moon excited

if you listened careful, you could hear them all chanting joao’s name and his joyful laughter in the background

and now let's fast-forward to when he’s home from the away game

he didn’t even drop his bags before he ran towards you

you jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist as he kissed all over your face

“i love you, i love you, i love you”

he brushed the hair out of your face and stroked his hand over your cheeks, blushing and a wide smile

joao had never felt this happy in his entire life

before the two of you even prepped the house you realised the pair of you would be moving to london for joao’s football career

barca were devastated to lose the mini felix on the way but they compensated for it with tiny barcelona kits with ‘felix’ on the back and teddies covered in the clubs jersey

joao couldn’t stop pacing when the two of you went for a scan, he was nervous understandably

but all his nerves washed away when he saw the little version of you two growing in your stomach

he would lie to his friends and say he didn’t cry but he sobbed out loud the first time he saw his little baby, even in a black and white, fetus form

and when he found out you were carrying his little baby boy…

oh boy, the waterworks got worse

he hugged your little bump and kissed it every night, whispering sweet nothings to you and promising his little boy that he would give him the absolute world

“i know you’ll love your mama, but listen i was here first” “joao, are you kidding me?”

every time he felt his baby kick inside your stomach, he swore he felt his heart get bigger

how lucky could he be to grow a perfect family with you

when the kicks got more frequent he was convinced his baby would be the next starboy at any club ever

“baby, he’s gonna be a striker!” 

“did you feel that? that’s a proper defensive block, babe!”

“that’s an enzo fernandez move, i need to call him! need to get my boy training with him!”

anyways 

the first time he scored after you were pregnant, he dedicated his goal to you

he took the ball and stuffed it underneath his jersey, put his thumb in his mouth and pointed to where you were sitting in the crowd

hear me out but the fan edits went wild for this one

when the pair of you moved to london, you were in your third trimester and begging your baby boy to get out of you

you couldn’t attend any of his games because you were far too pregnant, he missed you but pampered you when he got home

“i’m so sorry baby, i’ll tell the boys i can’t be there next game. gotta look after future-mama” he sighed before kissing you sweetly on the lips

mini felix was born 2 days after he told you this and joao had never stared at a more beautiful sight

you cradling your perfect baby boy after a long labour, eyes soft and sweat stuck to your forehead

when you handed your baby to joao, he felt like the entire world slowed down

mini felix was a spitting image of the two of you, he had his dad’s beautiful nose and his mama’s eyes

“i love his so much, i’m gonna take such good care of you” he whispered, kissing his baby boys head

when you had fallen asleep in the hospital room, joao had taken his shirt off and placed his baby against his bare chest, a smile never washing away from his face as he ran a gentle finger up and down his child’s back

fast-forward to a couple months later and your baby boy was babbling nonsense and laughing innocently as his dad running up and down the training pitch

you put your child into a puffy blue coat and matching trainers, and tiny grey joggers covering his gentle skin

you had taken him to visit joao on an open training day, his thick brunette hair just like his fathers moving with the wind

the chelsea players had waved and gently high-fived your baby as they walked past, enzo fernandez and pedro neto even booping his little nose as he greeted the familiar faces with a toothless smile

joao kept getting in trouble with the gaffer as his concentration was elsewhere towards his beautiful family a few feet away

the gaffer let him leave training early under the condition that he was introduced to the sweet little family that kept drawing soft eyes from all the players he was working with

you took your child to every single chelsea game you could, sitting in the hospitality suite with all the other wags as your child clapped his hands when the announcer called out his fathers name

every time joao scored he would point over to the pair of you, making heart hands and drawing out the initial of your baby boy’s name and winking at the cameras

you couldn’t be more in love with him

dad joao felix who would play aeroplane with his boy, swinging his back and forth as his sweet giggles got louder

the first thing joao bought for your baby would definitely be a chelsea kit, his name and number plasted on it, and matched football boots

“you’re gonna be in the chelsea team in no time”

joao would show off his kid everywhere he went, if a fan spotted him in the streets and he was holding his child, he would talk their ears off about how lucky he is about his little family (all the fan wanted was a photo)

his camera roll would practically become a shrine for his child, and his lockscreen would be you holding his little baby

and at the rate joao keeps scoring in the conference league games, mini felix number two wasn’t too far away…

hope you liked! ps. i might add more as more ideas come to my head xxxx

[tomsparkyr]

heyy!! you can find really good fics on these accs!!🤍

@anadiasmount

@allgoodnamesrgoneee

@judeswhore

thank you my love !! #neededthis their work is SO good in love🤍🤍

check out these accs !! i’ll add accounts on here for anyone else who is interested xxx

[tomsparkyr]

hiii if you don’t mind could you please do a joao felix fic where they do the loyal chris brown dance trend bc i feel like it would be really funny 😭

tiktok trouble

⋆·˚ ༘ * - joao felix

masterlist

summary: João hilariously nails the Loyal TikTok dance, turning a joke into viral gold and leaving you laughing at his over-the-top moves and newfound TikTok fame.

It had started out as a joke.

You were scrolling through TikTok on the couch while João sat beside you, engrossed in a FIFA match on his phone. The Loyal dance trend popped up on your for you page, and you couldn’t help but snort.

“What’s so funny?” João asked, glancing over.

You turned the screen to show him the video. A guy was doing the dramatic, exaggerated moves to Chris Brown’s “Loyal,” complete with the smug smirk and pointed finger.

João squinted at it, his brows knitting together. “What is that?”

“It’s a TikTok trend,” you explained, grinning. “You’re supposed to act all cocky and over-the-top while doing the dance. It’s hilarious.”

João tilted his head, watching the guy on screen. “That’s supposed to be dancing?”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

João smirked, leaning back on the couch. “I don’t need to try it. I already know I’d be better.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

That’s how you found yourself setting up your phone in the living room, the familiar opening beat of “Loyal” echoing off the walls.

João stood across from you, hands on his hips and a playful gleam in his eye. “So, I just... follow you?”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep a straight face. “But you have to sell it. Smirk, point, the whole thing.”

He rolled his eyes but nodded. The music started, and you launched into the moves—puffing out your chest, pointing at the imaginary crowd, and pretending to be the cockiest person alive.

João hesitated at first, mimicking your moves with a sheepish grin. But as the beat dropped, something shifted. He leaned into it, throwing in exaggerated spins and finger guns, his face set in a ridiculous “too cool for this” expression.

You couldn’t hold it together. “Oh my God, João!” you choked out between laughs, doubling over as he pointed at you like a music video star.

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m nailing it!”

“You’re so bad!”

“I thought the point was to be bad,” he shot back, grinning. “It’s called acting.”

By the second take, João was completely in his element. He strutted toward the camera, flipping an invisible jacket and winking at your reflection in the TV screen.

“You’re taking this too seriously!” you cried, clutching your stomach.

“Not seriously enough,” he replied, spinning dramatically.

When you finally uploaded the TikTok, you captioned it: “I created a monster 😭 #LoyalChallenge”.

Within hours, the video blew up.

The comments rolled in:

"João really said main character energy."

"Why is he actually killing it though??"

"This is the most unserious footballer on the planet."

"I need to see this on the pitch. Now."

João couldn’t stop laughing as he read through the comments, his head resting on your shoulder. “See? I told you I’d be better at it than you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

João pressed a kiss to your temple, his laughter softening into a fond grin. “Admit it. You had fun.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But next time, we’re doing one of my trends.”

“Deal,” João said, already pulling up the TikTok app. “But only if I get to be the star again.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew you wouldn’t trade this moment—or João’s ridiculous dancing—for anything.

[tomsparkyr]

heyyyy uh can someone req some stuff pls! i’m thinking footballers / stiles stilinski? need to write some more !! love u all xxx

[tomsparkyr]

congrats on 1k !! can i plz request a hot cocoa for joao felix w show me how (maybe smt like "show me how you care"?) tysm 💗

tell me why your hands are cold ⟡ ݁₊ . - joao felix

w/c: 350 a/n: lovvedd this idea! haven't written for my baby in so longg i hope u like this anon <333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

Joao had never liked London weather - it was gloomy, most days rainy and constantly freezing cold. And it didn't make training any easier.

But he did have one solace, the knowledge that no matter the weather or how bad training went, he would still be able to come home to you - waiting for him in your shared apartment with open arms.

"The minute the season's over, I'm flying back home and taking you with me," he spat out, shuffling in through the door in a huff.

"Welcome home, baby," you laugh softly from your spot on the couch, watching as he sheds his several coats and makes his way over to you. "How was training?"

"Same as always, I seriously don't know how those guys manage to stay so happy when the weather's so miserable."

"They're probably just used to it," you reason as he falls back on the couch next to you.

"Right, right," he hums, reaching over to pull you into a tight hug, but retreating the minute you gasp at the feeling of his freezing cold hands on your bare skin.

"Christ, Joao, your hands are like ice!"

"Sorry, babe," he brings his hands together, rubbing and breathing into them in a desperate attempt to warm them up.

Silently, you take his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Soon enough, they begin to warm up against your touch, and he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Gently, you rub your thumbs against the back of his hand before bringing one of them to your lips to press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"Yours are so warm," he breathes, almost in disbelief.

"Well, I have been at home all day," you laugh, and he does the same.

"Right, you're like my personal heat pack." Before you know it you're being pulled into a tight hug once more, Joao's face burying into the crook of your neck - and even though it might just be a desperate attempt to use you for your warmth, you're more than happy with it.

[tomsparkyr]

can u do one where Joao Felix is really scared of the doctors and he tries to not go but reader makes him because he got a very high fever and somehow he needed to get a shot but he was really scared of it and he was nuzzling his head in readers neck while getting it, and add him being really whiny and also ily and ur writing and sry for the very specific request 💋

You got it, I’m on it! 💋

The Doctors’ and Chick-fil-a - (Joao Felix)

Warnings- (doctor) Shots, whiny Joao, FLUFF

“Baby, it’s gonna be fine, okay.” You assure Joao as you enter the hospital. Joao was getting his flue shots today, and like any other normal human-he was scared to death. “Do I have to do this?” He whines, you chuckle at his childness,“Well do you want to get sick?” He shakes his head as you sit down with him, giving him a form to fill out. He sighs a couple minutes later, “This suck.” You roll your eyes and pat his head, “How about we get Chick-fil-a after?” He grins and nods, going back to filling out the form. “Felix?” A nurse calls out, you both get up and he grasps your hand, dreading the shot.

————————————-

“Just take deep breaths, okay?” The doctor instructs Joao as he prepares the shot. Joao whines and burrows his head in the crook of your neck, you play with his hair while whispering sweet, reassuring words into his ear. The doctor smiles at the sight of the cute couple in front of him as he gets ready to inject Joao with the shot, “On the count of 3. One, two~” The doctor injects it into Joao, he whimpers and squeezes your hand. Once the doctor pulls away he throws away the shot part and puts the needle on his tray. “You’re all set, Mr. Felix.” He smiles and you stand up. “Thank you so much.” You say as you direct Joao out of the office. As you get into the car he holds his shoulder, “That hurt!” He whines, “I think I’m gonna be sick!” You look at him concerned, he shakes his head chuckling, “Not really. Don’t worry, baby.” You chuckle and drive off to Chick-fil-a, he turns the radio up and sings along to a song you don’t know of. You park your car and kiss Joao on the head, “Be right back baby. You want your usual?” He nods and slumps into the seat, clearly exhausted. You go order and it takes about 2 minutes for you to get your food. You thank the worker and head out, going back to your car. “Hi!” You say once in your car, “Hi…” he mumbles back. You give him his food and he devours the food on the way home. “This is actually the best shot day I’ve had.” Your brows furrow and you chuckle, keeping your eyes on the road, “And why’s that?” He shoves a handful of friends into his mouth and says, “Because of you.” Your expression softens and you glance at him. “Aww, your so sweet.” He smiles and kisses your cheek, you ask, “Can I have a fri?” He nods and gives you two, you eat both and smile, “Best boyfriend ever.” Definitely Joao’s best shot day, ever.

A/N- Why is this actually so cute?! Thanks @iluvtylerthecreator111 for the idea.

[tomsparkyr]

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 [𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

summary: when coach tells people the room requirements and the 'no sexual perversions perpetrated' rule by the so-called 'little deviants', it only makes the couple want to break that rule even more.

stiles stilinski x fem!reader (no smut sorry babies)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were nestled into your boyfriend's neck, the soft flannel material brushing against your cheek and the scent you knew all too well, all of the senses could have made your eyes flutter back closed. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, groaning and shrugging off the contact, you decided to ignore Stiles’ silent request for you to lift your head up.

It wasn’t until you felt his warm touch brush the hair that had fallen in front of your face away and the palm of his hand stroke your cheekbone, you pulled away from his contact and looked up at him.

His brown eyes looked into your own and he smiled softly at you. He couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on. He couldn’t believe he was going out with someone like you. You were beautiful in and out, hence his gut-wrenching crush he’s had on you since the 3rd grade. After long years of pining and certain dreams, he couldn’t thank the supernatural world for existing more as he finally got a chance with you; and boy, did he take it.

At the beginning of your relationship, Scott thought Stiles was joking when he said he kissed you, and you actually kissed him back. He just laughed, patted him on the shoulder and moved on with the subject.

“No, Scott! I’m not kidding.” Stiles said, almost offended. But then he sobered his thoughts and kind of understood Scott because it had taken him 3 hours after your kiss to finally process that he had grown the balls to do that, and apparently you liked it too.

Scott paused momentarily, “Neither am I Stiles, we need to focus on--” Stiles sighed dramatically and flailed his arms around in desperation. Scott paused mid-sentence, tilted his head and waited for his best friend to continue.

“Scott, I kissed her. Like, I actually kissed her!” Stiles smiled widely. Scott remained unconvinced, blinking slowly and scrunched his brows. “You know, when you put your lips on someone else's--”

“Yes, Stiles! I know what kissing is!” The werewolf exasperated, he shook his head. “I just don’t believe it was with her. Y/N? Head cheerleader, popular, smart, way out of your league Y/N?”

“You better believe it, Scotty.” Stiles patted his hand rhythmically on Scott’s back as he began to walk away, intending to walk to his beautiful girlfriend's house. 

Scott grabbed onto Stiles’ flannel and yanked him back for more details, “You mean ‘I’ve had a crush on her since 3rd grade, I wish she would look my way and we would get married and have kids’ Y/N?” Scott grew a proud smile the more he said, knowing how down bad his best friend was for this girl.

Stiles nodded frantically and adjusted his flannel, “And she actually kissed you back?” Scott questioned. “Scott, I think 3rd grade me died a little bit when she held my hand, let alone kiss me back.” Stiles jokes.

The two boys looked at each other before high fiving and doing their ‘bro-hug’. Scott congratulated the boy, not hiding his pure excitement for his friend; borderline jumping for joy. The boys gushed over the new relationship for a few more minutes before Stiles snapped out of it and ran out the room, shouting behind him saying he had to get back to his girlfriend who was waiting for him. Scott doing a subtle fist pump as Stiles turned his back.

“Wake up, baby,” He whispered, not wanting to disturb you too much as you wiped the grogginess and sleep off your face. You looked at your surroundings, “We here?”

Stiles looked out the window of the bus, eye twitching at the surroundings. “Not quite…” 

The motel looked uncomfortable, old and just overall, definitely violating hundreds of safety codes. The poor attempt at the neon lights brightened up the place in the darkness outside, but did little to make the atmosphere any more homely. But he knew it would be fine for one night, as long as you were by his side the entire night.

Everyone began piling out of the bus, a couple of your friends passing you and giving you two a wink as they noticed the state you and your boyfriend were in; cuddled up close, hands intertwined and Stiles admiring you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. Even in this messed up supernatural world, Stiles found beauty in the horror; and that was you.

Stiles helped you off the bus, his hands never leaving you. He slung an arm around your waist as you stepped onto the concrete and became aware of your surroundings. 

It was clear you had the same initial thoughts as Stiles as he read your body language. He rubbed his thumb on the skin between your top and the jeans that hugged your figure, leaning in and kissing the top of your forehead.

As you walked towards your friends and addressed Lydia’s discomfort at the Motel, Stiles had sneaked behind you and hugged you from behind. He rested his head on top of yours and you leaned back into his chest; his arms were locked around your front and you rested your hands on top of his, sighing into the contact.

It felt like you were in a dream, you never wanted to leave this comfortability with Stiles, he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

The Coach’s whistle broke you out of your bliss, snapping your attention to him as he turned away from the Motel and faced the angsty teenagers. 

“Listen up. The meet’s been pushed till tomorrow.” You groaned quietly and nestled backwards into Stiles’ chest, he smiled at you. “This is the closest Motel with the most vacancies and least amount of good judgement when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates such as yourselves.”

You would protest Coach’s point, but he was completely correct, actually. Who the hell would want 20 odd, hormonal teenagers who definitely have questionable things packed in their bags to stay in your Motel?

“Now, you’ll be pairing up. Choose wisely.”

You and Stiles look at each other, untangling yourself from his hold and intertwining your hands. You pulled him over to the Coach, not seeing Scott raise his brows at Stiles’ smirking face at the idea of spending a night with you in your own room, no parental interruptions, no supernatural; just a boyfriend and girlfriend in each other's company.

Coach noticed the two of you approaching like a couple on their honeymoon and felt the need to clarify something.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” He shouted, looking directly at you. “Especially you, Stilinski and Y/L/N!”

You two dropped your hands expectantly, reluctantly taking a key for different rooms. The boy sighed at you and leaned in to kiss you before you departed over to Lydia and Alisson.

The sound of the Coach’s whistle made you two jump apart before your lips touched. “What did I just say!” Stiles went to protest, “I don’t wanna hear it! Get out of here!” 

Stiles groaned and turned away to room with Scott, you loitered back for a moment, just in time to hear the Coach say, “How he managed to get you to go out with him… I’ll never know.” You chuckled to yourself and roomed with your friends.

It had been an hour since you got to your room and settled in, kicking back and chatting to the girls for a while until they decided to shower and get themselves ready for bed. You had begun to set up until you got a message from Stiles.

Stiles: come to my room please i miss you

You smiled at his message, missing him too. And typed out a response.

You: i can’t the girls will see i’ve gone somewhere :((((

Stiles: you’ll be back before they’ve noticed you’re gone i promise

Stiles: baby?

Stiles was typing out more questions, and thinking of other ways to convince you to come over as Scott had left the room to explore the Motel more.

He was confused by your silence until he heard a knock at the door. He stood up, expecting it to be Scott but was braced by your beautiful face as he swung the door open.

He smiled, looking you up and down before tugging you into the room. He kicked the door behind him as he twisted your bodies so your back was facing the room. 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you messed with the hair at the nape of his neck, drinking in his appearance and licking your lips. “I missed you, baby.” He groaned in the sexiest voice you think you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “I missed you, too.” You chuckled before connecting your lips.

He leaned into your body as his lips pressed into yours, subtly sneaking his tongue into your mouth. His hands snuck around to your back and held your body against his own, feeling every crevice and worshipping them. His hands explored your back, itching closer as he murmured for you to jump into him.

You obliged and wrapped your legs around his waist, he caught you by planting his hands on your ass. He smiled into his kiss and found himself growing more desperate for you as each second passed.

Your hands tangled in his hair and tugged at it as he walked the pair of you to the rickety bed situated in the middle of the room. He gently placed you on the bed and leaned on top of you, finding himself comfortable in between your legs.

The kiss grew more erratic as it went on, hotter and hands wandering. Stiles slipped his hands underneath your top and began to lift it over your head. 

You stopped him suddenly and he pulled back, his face coated in your lipgloss and his hair a mess; God, he looked good. 

“What? Did I do something wrong?” He panicked. You smiled and placed your hands on his face. “No, baby. Just don’t want Scott to walk in on us.” You confessed.

Stiles shook his head, “He won’t be back for ages…” He whispered and leaned back in to kiss your neck, sucking at your sweet spots that made your back arch. You sighed as his tongue worked wonders.

Stiles noticed you weren’t fully convinced and jumped off the bed, leaving you stranded. You were confused momentarily until he snatched something out of the bedside drawer, and opened the room door, hooking it on the handle and turning back to you.

“Just to be sure.” He winked and situated himself back between your legs and lifted your shirt over your head this time.

The room became hotter with each second, steam practically coating the walls; as the room door held up a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with pride.

Your stay with Stiles was much more prolonged than you had intended, your clothes now back on your body a little misshapen but the thought that was there. 

You skipped back to your Motel room and quietly pushed open the door at this late hour, knowing Lydia and Alisson were probably curled up in bed at this time. 

Kicking off your shoes, you snuck into the room and breathed a sigh of relief that the girls hadn’t had their suspicions about your disappearance, obviously feeling content enough to go to sleep with no nerves.

You turned on the bedside lamp to see where you were going and jumped at the sight of Lydia and Alisson wide awake and leaning on the headboard of their shared bed, staring right at you with raised eyebrows and a subtle smirk.

Alisson tilted her head, “So, where were you?” She questioned.

You stuttered for a moment, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “I was just… at the vending machine. Stupid things sucked up my money.” You fake chuckled.

Lydia hummed, “Yeah, it took you 3 hours…” You could practically feel a bead of sweat dripping down your forehead, “Yeah, I had a lot of trouble with it… Anyway, I’m heading to bed-”

“I didn’t know vending machines give you hickeys.” Alisson said, making you freeze and pale.

You opened your mouth but no words came out, “And it has nothing to do with the fact that Scott tried to get back to his room but the sound of moaning probably stopped him from going into the hot box.” Lydia smirked.

You quite literally had no words, “Shit.” You murmured.

Alisson giggled at you, "You realise Coach is gonna kill you two, especially Stiles." You groaned loudly.

The two girls chuckled at you and invited you into their huddle, only insisting you showered first. You laughed along with them and jumped into them, “At least someone had fun on this God awful trip.” Lydia smiled at you before you whacked her with the pillow you were previously leaning on.

[tomsparkyr]

𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

in which: y/n announces her relationship with joao felix through one of her songs on tour…

social media fic!

joao felix x fem!reader

joao felix x singer!reader

instagram!

bonus!

[tomsparkyr]

So I’m a cheerleader.. and I was thinking Stiles being with a cheerleader reader and he gets all hot and bothered seeing her walk around the school in uniform because it hugs her figure perfectly, so he pulls her into an empty classroom and you know 😉😉 and he tells her how short her skirt is and how it’s “easy access”

Stiles Stilinski is not subtle.

Especially when it comes to his staring, which was made very clear to you the day you first joined the team, before later showing up at his house in your new cheerleading uniform.

And his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head.

And he drooled.

Literally drooled.

All down his chin.

And it's for this very reason that you've decided to wear the dangerous outfit to school today, just to make sure he gets a really good look.

Technically, practice isn’t until after school, and most of the other girls prefer to change in the locker room just before.

And that’s normally how you prefer it, too. After all, this skirt leaves little to the imagination but even more so…it lets in a draft.

And it’s February. And very cold, and very brisk, and your legs are very bare.

But it’ll be worth it to watch the line of drool dribble from Stiles’ mouth as you swing your hips by his desk.

And you’re rewarded with exactly that as you saunter your way from one side of the classroom to the other, pretending to be oblivious to your charm, and to his presence, as you call a greeting to your friend.

You keep your back to him because you know if you catch a glimpse of his face, you’ll smirk. And if he knows you know what you’re doing, then he’ll make sure to make you regret it.

…which, you suppose wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Still, you keep him behind you and begin a conversation with one of the other girls on the team. You exchange stories about how your weekend was and what you’re looking forward to during practice.

But you don’t miss the sound of his throat clearing. You don’t miss the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, or the sound of his footsteps parading after you. 

And you smile.

“What, no hello for me?” comes the familiar, soft taunt, slipping just over your shoulder.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and glance to the side. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Hey, Stiles.”

He swallows a scoff. “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”

Your eyes roll as he steps in front of you and leans back against your desk, forcing your attention on him.

Then, he grins. “So…do better.”

Still, you keep your playfully annoyed expression firm on your face as you shrug and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Hello, Stiles. Is that good enough for you?”

“Mm-mm.” His head shakes. “Try again.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest. “Well, it’s just gonna have to be, because class is about to start, and I don’t have time for this.”

With that, you reach out to lightly shove him to the side and out of your way so you can slip by and take your seat.

But you hadn’t anticipated the contact to be so…electrifying. You suppose it makes sense. After all, you and Stiles haven’t really had a lot of…quality time together recently. Both so busy with extracurriculars, homework, and friends. 

You hadn’t meant to go two weeks without, and truthfully, you thought you’d been doing fine. Sure, once in a while, you’d find yourself lying in bed with your fingers between your thighs. But Stiles was always on the other side of that phone call, talking you through it, telling you how much he missed it, and how pleased he was to hear you fuck yourself to the sound of his voice.

Now, as you wrestle him out of your way, you feel his fingers brush the outside of your thigh as you pass by, and your breath catches in your throat as your mind suddenly goes fuzzy.

You both seem to still, now abundently aware of how badly you need each other.

You look up at him.

He looks back.

You swallow.

He smiles.

“Uh…Mr. Clark?” he’s suddenly calling, turning toward the man now taking his place near the front of the classroom.

Mr. Clark looks up. “Yes?”

“I’m…I’m not feeling so hot,” Stiles says, voice labored and thick as if in great pain. “I need to go see the nurse.”

Mr. Clark sighs as he waves his hand through the air dismissively. “Fine but be quick about it, please. We have a lot to cover.”

“Yes, Sir,” Stiles replies, taking a step back before stumbling rather dramatically as his hands reach out to grasp onto you. “Oh. Oh, gosh. I…I don’t think I can make it there on my own, I feel…I feel so weak and dizzy.”

Mr. Clark’s expression drops into an unamused frown. “Is that so?”

Stiles nods, blinking innocently. “Yeah, I…I sure hope I don’t pass out on the way there. That would just be…so bad. I could seriously get hurt. But…no. No, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll…I’ll just hold onto the wall and hope I remember how to walk—”

“My god, just take him,” Mr. Clark interrupts, now nodding his chin at you. “It’s fine. Just take him, and hurry back.”

Doing your best not to laugh, you chew on the inside of your cheek and loop your arm under Stiles’ shoulder to help guide him toward the door.

He pretends to be faint, swaying from side to side as you do your best to keep him walking in a straight line.

And because this is Stiles, he makes this as difficult as possible, resting almost all of his weight on you as work to keep yourself upright.

Once you’re in the hall, you expect him to drop the act, but he doesn’t. Not until you’ve passed the few straggling students and teachers.

You also expect that he wants to actually head to the nurse’s office. His favorite place to have you because it's quiet, secluded, and it has a bed.

But this theory of yours is also proven wrong when he suddenly skids to a stop in the middle of the hallway, grabs onto your wrist, and yanks you through what seems to be a random door.

Once you’re both safely inside, you peer around the dark space, and piece together that he’s brought you into one of the empty study rooms. 

However, you aren’t afforded an opportunity to discover much more than that because just as you’re starting to get comfortable, you feel his hands.

One is on your hip, and the other is nudging between your thighs to pry you open. And as he does, he guides you back toward one of the desks and places you on top before placing himself between your legs.

Your palms meet the cold, hard surface behind you as you brace yourself and stumble over a gasp. “What…what—”

“This?” he murmurs under his breath, fisting at the fabric of your cheerleading skirt with contempt. “This is fucking cruel.”

Your lashes flutter but you can’t deny the flush of your cheeks at his approval. “What do you mean?”

He makes a noise deep in the back of his throat as he guides the fabric up your lap, eying it—and you—closely. “You know exactly what I mean, sugar. Know you do. Know you wore this just to hurt me. Know you wanted me to see just how easy it would be to have you. Right then. Right there. In front of everybody.”

You stay silent because he’s right, and you just hope he plans to do something about it. 

“It does, you know,” he continues softly, long fingers caressing the soft, tender skin of your inner thigh. “It does hurt me. Every inch of you hurts me. Not having you hurts me. Not being with you hurts me—”

He stops, and your heart just about drops to your ass as he ghosts his lips above yours and hooks his thumb under the lace of your underwear.

You both still.

“—do you wanna hurt me, sugar?” he asks, and you immediately shake your head. “Good. S’good. So…what do you want?”

He won’t go further than this until you say the words, and while you appreciate the sentiment, your tongue doesn’t seem to want to work right now.

“You,” you breathe. “Always you, Stiles, please.”

You watch his entire face light up as he finally concedes and kisses you. God, he kisses you with so much love and lust and adoration that your head spins and your lungs just about give out.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

You nod.

“Good. Then let’s do something about it.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs