gothicfied

[gothicfied]

Real Madrid vs Pachuca | FIFA Club World Cup | 22.06.2025

[gothicfied]

Quero algo longo sobre Dean Huijsen 😭

LOOKIN' AT YOU GOT ME THINKIN' NONSENSE

Pairing: Dean Huijsen x fem!reader, friends to lovers

Summary: You've been in love with Dean Huijsen for years. But, him being the team mate of your brother always made it very difficult to approach him in a romantic way. When he flew you out to his last game for Bournemouth, it seems like he had also set his eyes on you and wasn't planning on letting you go again.

Word Count: ~3.9k

Reading Time: ~16 Minutes

Warnings: Reader is implied to be dutch, reader is hopelessly in love at the beginning, reader has an annoying older brother, the interpretation of Dean's career is probably super inaccurate but I had to google a bunch of stuff, swearing, slightly abrupt ending, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: hi! sorry this took so long, but I had to take time iff because I'm still on vacation (and because I didn't feel like writing anything these past couple of days). Anyway, I hope this is enioyable, because I kinda think this got shitty towards the end. I'm already so in love with this man, I'm not kidding. Hopefully our second game will be better tho.

Football was never something you were interested in. The most you watched of it was during the Word Cup and maybe the EURO's. Nontheless, your parents would always drag you to your brother's games, whether you wanted to or not. Obviously, like every boy it seemed like, Max started playing at a very early age and always said he'd go pro at some point.

You couldn't tell if he was good, average or absolutely stupid with the ball, but you liked teasing him about not being good enough. And that was all fun and games until he was called up for the U17 team of your national team, the Netherlands. Sure, maybe you didn't care for normal football, but even this was a big deal for you (even though you weren't all that patriotic).

The one thing you absolutely enjoyed the most about your Max's career was Dean Huijsen. The one team mate you've had a crush on ever since you had laid your eyes on him. You didn't know what it was: Maybe it was because he's so freakishly tall, maybe it's the fact that football is only attractive when he plays it or maybe it's because he's fluent in spanish, as he had demonstrated to you before. Well, those parts definitely had a play in it.

Over the years, you've gotten to know many team mates of your brother and they come and they go, you never pay attention to them. Him, though. Oh, him you could never forget. Max thought it was stupid that you suddenly seemed so interested in the sport and especially his career, since you now showed up to every one of his national games.

Lucky for you, the two boys were really good friends. You'd get mad at your brother when he didn't announce that Dean would be coming over, yelling about how you didn't have time to shower or get ready, to which he'd always meet you with a "Why are you so obsessed with him?".

You wouldn't force hang outs, because being the weird little sister would be worse than not seeing Dean at all, but you'd literally take any chance to talk to him. Causually, of course.

After celebrating another win for the Netherlands with your brother, or at least after congratulating him for it, you stood by the side lines, greeting every familiar face you came across. "Hey," You said in an almost instant when Dean walked by while he gave you a sheepish smile. "You played well today." His eyes scanned your face for maybe a hint of sarcasm or a purpose as to why you specifically were talking to him. "Thanks.. Max's little sister." Oh, he didn't even know your name. Before continuing to walk to his family, he patted your shoulder in an acknowledging way.

Since then many things had changed. Gradually over those one to two years, even you and Dean grew closer together. Not close enough to hang out alone, without other friends or your brother, but now he at least knew your name and always stuck around to talk a little more. You'd walk him to the front door if Max was too lazy (or fell asleep) and, even though you had said your goodbyes like three times by then, he'd gladly stand in the doorframe to talk to you a little more.

Your friendship was even strong enough to withstand a generous amount of distance between the two of you. You obviously wished him all the best when he made the move to Juventus and when he got the chance to play for the second team. Dean was talented, that much you could tell, even if your football knowledge was limited. At least you still got to see your crush for the U18 or U19 Team of the Netherlands, where he'd obviously still play with your brother.

And, well, that didn't last long. Or longer. After Dean's move to Bournemouth he decided to rather play for Spain. His other half. The other half that he always seemed to like more about himself. You loved seeing him thrive, but this decision hit a bit too close to home. You obviously still had school to finish, so you couldn't even drop everything for a game during international break. But, Max was his best friend, so it was natural that he'd invite him over to watch a game or two in the UK.

"Look, I don't know why you're so upset." Max shrugged and looked at you with a weirded out expression while you expressed your disappointed. Your disappointed that Dean didn't invite you, too. "You're not friends with him, or are you?" You huffed at your brothers comment and stormed off to the kitchen. "Ugh, what? Why are you so fucking obsessed? Do you want me to let him know that you also—" He was cut off by you yelling "No!" through the whole house. "No! If you do that I'm seriously—" The words in your mouth died out when Max looked at you in realization. Oh no, it finally clicked. "Oh my god, there's no way. Him?! Seriously? You like.. him? Dean Huijsen? What is wrong with you!" While you chased him through the living room, threatening to break both his legs, your brother just laughed at you.

Max may have had the last laugh back then, but now you do. Apparently, you were missed dearly and because Dean's schedule often clashed with your brother's, he opted to inviting you instead.

...

"So you'll be there?" Dean sounded as excited as ever, while you tried your best not to do the same. You had your phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, trying to multitask while making a hot chocolate for the little girl you were currently babysitting. "Yeah! Of course, it'll be great." Dean had just called to invite you to his last home game for Bournemouth.

Carefully, you handed the kid her drink so she could finally watch Minions 2 in peace, while you cleaned up the kitchen (and talked to Dean, obviously). "Soooo," You started, your thoughts already flooded with ideas on how to convince your parents to let you skip school for this. "Soooo?" He asked with a chuckle, "Are you sad? Like, because this is your last game for Bournemouth?" For a moment, there wasn't a single response from his side. You took your phone from your ear and looked at it confused because you thought he might've actually hung up at that stupid question you just asked him. Yeah, of course, the question must've been stupid! Why else wouldn't he—

"Hard to say. You're the first person to ask me this."

"Oh, well, I just thought.. maybe. Real Madrid is a big deal, I must say. But.. I don't know, it'll be weird not seeing you in red and black anymore."

"Heh," Dean chuckled again. "No, don't look at it like that. I'm sad... a little bit. But, like you said, this is a huge deal, you know?"

"Yeah..."

"Real's kits are superior by the way. I'll give you one when I get mine."

The words died out in your mouth. Dean, despite inviting you to his games more often than not (no matter if you were able to make it or not), had actually never given you one of his jerseys to wear. It maybe be a bit embarrassing, but you had thought about scenarios where that might happen to you some day and now he was just.. offering it! Just like that!

"Oh my god, really?" You were taken aback by how excited you sounded. "I mean... Yes, that would be cool." The boy on the other end of the line laughed and agreed with you, telling you he had to go now in the same breath and hung up. "Fucking hell, why am I so awkward?" You muttered to yourself. Suddenly you felt someone tug on your pants:

"Can you make me pancakes?"

...

"But! But Mom! Are you serious? No this is really important to me, come on.." Max rolled his eyes at your whining. Even if you would've done every chore in advance, even if you had cleaned the whole house, took care of dinner, done the laundry, got straight A's or brought peace on earth, your parents still wouldn't let you go to Dean's game.

"I said no! What is so hard to understand about that? I don't want your grades to suffer, sweetheart. I've already let you skip school three times for that boy!" While you were losing your mind about this once-in-a-life-time miss, even though it really wasn't, Max was amusing himself. "Stop laughing!" You hit him on the back of his head, to which he quickly whipped around and tried to do the same. "Max! Cut it out! Don't hit your sister." Your Dad finally yelled. "But she did it first!"

"So what? Are you ten? You don't have to hit her back?"

"Look, honey, I know that you like him and you think that he's the love of your life—"

"Mom!"

"I know that! But, you can't just always leave the country for two days just to see him. I can't go with you this time and your dad can't either."

"Mom, I'm literally 18, I already already passed my finals! There's no school I'm missing and I can go alone."

Apparently, no one outside yourself really understood what this meant for you. Defeated, you plopped down next to your brother on the couch and tried to somewhat enjoy the movie that was put on. After a few minutes of your Dad looking at you, then back at the TV and then back at you again, he sighed:

"When would it be?"

"What?"

"The game, silly."

Your face lit up, since this was a pretty clear sign that he had given in. Max next to you, on the other hand, just groaned and facepalmed, like this was the stupidest idea he's ever heard in his life. "Nah Dad, come on. This is ridiculous, I don't want her to date one of my friends!" You shot Max a look after he tried to come up with multiple excuses again on why you shouldn't be let go to the UK.

Of course, in a way you understood him. It was probably frustrating to him that he didn't even get invited in the first place and it must be annoying that one's little sister has this massive crush on one of your friends, but it's not like you can control your feelings.

"Alright, all of you need to stop with this whole dating thing." You said in response of your brother's complaining. To your suprise, Max actually stopped to hear you out for a second. "He just.. it's his last game at home for Bournemouth. Nothing will happen, I won't come home married or pregnant—"

"Oh, you better not! Or else I'll kill that kid."

"Dad."

"What? He always looks drugged out of his mind anyway."

Now you were the one that facepalmed and your Mom quickly told your Dad to knock it off. Your cheeks felt hot and your legs like jello as this topic about Dean was dragged on and on. You didn't like talking about your crush, especially not with your parents, that's like a thousand times more embarrassing.

Your mom grabbed the remote and put the movie on pause, grabbed both of your hands and made you look at her properly: "Okay," She started, suddenly seeming so serious about this, "You can go." Before you could even try to celebrate, she immediately cut you off again. "Ah! But! Only because school's almost over and only, only if you do your's and Max' chores for the whole week."

Max looked at you with a twinkle in his eye and laughed when he heard that he'd be free off his duties, but in reality you didn't mind. Frankly, you'd probably do anything to see Dean again. Alone this time. No annoying older brother, no overprotective parents, only him and you.

Later that night, Max decided to pay you a visit in your room. You were just minding your own business and typed something on your laptop, when the door suddenly swung open. "Max!" You yelled out, while said brother shut the door behind him. "Don't you know how to fucking knock?"

"So," Through the tone of his voice you understood that he was only here to tease you again. "You and Dean, huh?" Max took a seat on your bed. "Me and Dean, huh?"

"I just want you to know," When he realized you didn't pay any attention to him, he took the liberty to shut the laptop and take it off your lap. You sighed in annoyance and just gave him a 'what-do-you-want-from-me' kind of look. "...that you have my blessing."

"Your blessing? What are you talking about? I don't need your... blessing or whatever."

"Wait, so you weren't even the slightest bit scared that I wouldn't approve?"

"Believe it or not, you're not Dad. I don't need anything from you."

Max wasn't mad at you, but he still enjoyed seeing you doing all the exhausting things he would normally have to do. And when you asked for help, he refused, saying it was your own choice and you wanted to go see Dean's game. He'd scold you like your Mother if you didn't do the dishes correctly or forgot to do the laundry, basically taking the piss out of you.

What made it all worth it, though, was being able to talk to Dean more often. The footballer would text you, would check up on you and tell you how excited he is that you're coming over. That just fueled your delusions even more: Like, no one could tell you he didn't like you back just a little bit.

Why else would he fly you out and not someone else? Maybe if you manifested it enough, it would come true. When Dean moves to Spain the distance between the two of you will just grow closer, so you basically had to make the first step. If you got rejected, then.. well, sure you'd lose part of your dignity, but at least he's in Spain.

...

With your luggage in hand, you were waiting to be picked up by Dean's father, Donny, like always. Currently, you were listening in on a conversation between a husband and his mistress, on how he doesn't know how to divorce his wife and what would happen to the kids. Bournemouth Airport. It never gets old.

When you were finally in the car, and on your way to Dean's family home, you were really grateful to speak to someone in Dutch again after hours getting by with your, accented, English.

"How did your finals go?" Donny asked you whiem leaning one arm against the edge of the window. This was strange — No matter how often you flew to the UK, you'll never get used to sitting on the left side, in the passenger seat. "Uh, pretty good, I'd say."

The man next to you chuckled, "So you passed?" You've known Dean's family for a long while now, but it still was a bit awkward in that moment. Especially because there wasn't your dad or your mom to make conversation with the other parent.

"Thank you for coming by the way."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me! I.. I really like doing this. It's actually an honor that he invited me for his last game at home."

"He's been really excited. Primarily because you'll be there."

Donny laughed after he just exposed his son like that and you could immediately feel your cheeks burn up again. You took a moment to look outside the window and think about how this may go. Should you pretend like everything was fine and platonic? Or should you just.. tell him? Maybe it works out in your favor and you could cheer on your boyfriend tomorrow. No, that would be too much. You knew you couldn't ever confess to someone like that, you were too shy. But maybe you shouldn't be this time.

"Dean really likes you." It was like Donny could read your mind.

"Hah, really?"

"Yeah, no, no, no... He really, really likes you. I think you were actually the first person he told about his move to Madrid, outside of his family."

You smiled to yourself when you heard that. True, you were actually the bearer of the news to your brother, and if Dean didn't tell your brother first then.. yeah, that checks out. Donny probably already knew that you liked his son back, which you had already suspected. Ever since that one conversation he had with your mother, he can't help but try setting the two of you up.

"Anyway, here we are." The car pulled up into the driveway of this very british looking neighborhood you knew so well.

A happy and, suprisingly, little nervous Dean opened the front door for you and his dad. While the latter hauled your suitcase inside, Dean almost immediately leaned down to give you a hug. The way his eyes lit up when he saw you was probably the cutest thing you've seen all year.

"How are you?" He asked you out if courtesy, his hands coming down to rest on the small of your back when he slightly pulled away. It was like your brain turned into mush when your eyes met his, you didn't know what to say without sounding like an idiot. "Uhm," You chuckled nervously, "I'm good! And you?"

If you hadn't fully pulled out of the hug, you were sure you would've exploded right then and there. Dean shut the door behind you, but still kept his arm around your shoulder when leading you to through the hallway and to the living room. "Good. Great, even!" When you looked up to him you noticed that it was the first time he looked... awake, basically. Dean's droopy eyes are what you loved most about him, but seeing him like this was pretty amazing.

"Ah, oh my god!" Macha, his mother, hollered from the couch. Dean was basically a carbon copy of her and she was just as excited to see you. "Aw, how are you? Oh, it's like I haven't seen you in ages."

The woman gave you a warm hug, asking you about your family and how your brother was doing. "No, no, he's very happy at Ajax." You explained about Max while Macha was fixing you something to drink.

"I knew he'd be. He's a clever boy, your brother!" Donny has had his fair share of time at the club himself. While his parents asked you a million things about your life and your brother, Dean was more than eager to get you away from them. "Sorry, they're so nosy." He whispered to you.

"Don't worry, you'll get her all for yourself in a minute." Macha gave her son the look and handed you thr coffee you had requested.

"Mom.. I'm just—"

"There's still time left until dinner. Why don't you guys go upstairs?"

...

"Here," Dean tossed a shirt out of his closet directly at your face. Confused, you took it into your hands and held it up to see what it read. Huijsen. Oh, his last name. You looked at the boy with a slightly confused expression on your face, turning the jersey around to see the Bournemouth sigil stiched on the left side of it.

"I figured," Dean's voice suddenly didn't sound all that confident anymore. "Uhm, that you need something. For tomorrow." Your fingers delicately traced his number that was printed out on the back of the shirt. "I realized I never gave you one."

"Thank you! That's like, really thoughtful." Dean chuckled at your words and took a seat next to you on his bed. "It'll look good on you." He promptly took the jersey out of your hands and held it up to your body to see if he was right. "Maybe a bit big, but red and black are definitely your colors."

All you could do was nod and hope that Dean wouldn't notice how your cheeks turned almost crimson red the more compliments he gave you. Even if you attempted to talk at this point, only nonsene would come out. You took a deep breath to compose yourself: "You're like.. two meters tall, this will be like a dress."

Dean grinned and just shook his head. Nervously, you fiddled around with the hem of the shirt he had just gifted you, while he stood up again and searched through more clothes in his closet.

"Come here."

"Huh?"

"Come on, I gotta see something."

After a moment, you obeyed and approached him. Dean's room hadn't changed one bit from the last time you saw it — It's exactly what you'd expect a room of a man in his late teens would look like. Not very interesting, filled with individual trophies he won and pretty bare overall.. why are boys like this?

The footballer whipped around and gave you another jersey — Bournemouth's third kit of this season. "Okay, I get that you don't need these anymore, but why give them all to me?" Dean snickered and gave you the piece of clothing anyway. "You're funny."

"I'm just asking."

"I want you to have them. You're important to me so I'm giving them to you, what's there to complain about?"

"I'm important to you?"

Dean slowly realized he might've screwed up with his choice of words. His eyes fell droopy again, boring into yours like he was trying to see your soul through them. "Ehhh," His gaze shifted away from you and onto the ground, "..yes? I mean, I like you, don't I?"

For a long moment there was just silence as Dean stared at you in disbelief (at his own words) and you were just expecting him to speak up. "I fucked up now, right?"

Carefully, you dropped the clothes you had in your hand onto the floor, feeling more confident now that he seemed to be nervous. It was like becoming an extrovert when around other introverts — It came so naturally, you couldn't really tell yourself to stop. Because, this was literally your chance. The one you've been waiting for since forever.

"You didn't.. fuck up, Dean."

The boy took a deep breath.

"Okay, so this won't ruin our friendship?"

"What?"

The moment Dean cuppe your face with his hands was like getting hit over the head with a baseball bat and suffering short term memory loss. You only remembered to kiss him back after he had pressed his lips onto yours several seconds ago.

The kiss was slow, conservative, but still expressed the things he couldn't quite put into words. His lips felt so delicate on yours, as if he was too scared he'd break you if he deepened it too fast. This was making your brain go smooth, that's for sure. When he eventually pulled away and looked you in the eyes, searching for any amount if disapproval, he couldn't find any. Anything, actually. The more you stared at him, the more it felt like your pupils were physically forming into hearts.

"This.."

"Don't— Don't talk, it's okay."

"This doesn't change anything?" Dean looked at you confused.

"Everything. But.."

You were dying to feel his lips on yours again. In that very same moment you heard his mom yell for dinner downstairs.

[gothicfied]

I already love this duo so much

[gothicfied]

it’s genuinely disgusting how some ppl are treating lamine’s situation like it’s just “banter material.” he’s a 17 year old being groomed by a 30 year old woman. this isn’t football discourse. this is a predator and a kid who’s being failed by every adult around him.

[gothicfied]

https://www.tumblr.com/gothicfied/784292304227827712/the-devil-in-your-eyes-wont-deny-the-lies

of course we want a part two omg

I DON'T WANNA GET UNDRESSED FOR A NEW PERSON ALL OVER AGAIN

(read part 1 here)

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader

Summary: After the awful summer you had because of a certain Jude Bellingham, you were more than hesitant to accept the invite to go to the first El Clasico of the season. You were seeing someone and you honestly didn't have the time to spare for Jude, but you felt like you had to go anyways to get things straight.

Word Count: ~4.9k

Reading Time: ~20 Minutes

Warnings: Slight swearing, Reader is still struggling with her feelings most of the time, Jude is thankfully not an asshole anymore, probably an unsatisfying ending, still hopeful ending, much more fluff than angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Tag(s): @jsprien213

A/N: I'm really having fun with this little series and I'm planning on resolving everything in a third part, don't worry. I wrote this in like a day, so don't mind any spelling mistakes and sorry if something doesn't make sense. I'm personally sorry to Jude for writing him this way lolololol Inspiration was this song👇

Love is an intense feeling of deep affection. It is what builds up the world, creates new life and makes life worth living. Or, in your case, it'll completely destroy your emotions and friendships you didn't think you could lose.

That night where Jude absolutely did not want to leave your side and actually did wait for you outside the guest room until almost 3:00 in the morning was when you were sure you'd never want to see that man ever again. Eventually, though, you did open the door for him, because... well, you felt bad. Jude wasn't even asleep or on his phone and it was clear that he had shed a tear or two. He wasn't an overly emotional man and wouldn't let himself cry, even if it meant it would save his life.

You were kind of ready to talk or at least give him the time to explain himself. But, it all got out of hand really fast: You couldn't controll your emotions either and just started screaming at him about nothing and everything all at once. Jude felt overwhelmed with the amount of information leaving your mouth and wasn't able to process everything to give you a good answer. Everything he said sounded wrong to your ears, which just made you more agitated. It was late, you had been crying and you had gotten no sleep the days before, ergo: You were tired. Tired and not in the right headspace.

Jude wouldn't ever yell at you. He did raise his voice a couple of times, but never got closer to you than three or four meters. His head was pounding and frankly, he did not have a good reason why he'd rather go for someone like Amy and not you, who he treated like his girlfriend basically all his life. Since he'd known you.

You threw him out of the room. And that was that. In the morning, you didn't go downstairs for a while, fearing you'd meet Jude there. The next day you left Spain anyway. He helped you get your luggage downstairs, but wouldn't look you in the eyes. Jude wasn't mad, he was more so disappointed in himself and very ashamed of what he did to you or made you feel.

He didn't go to the airport with you.

He didn't say a proper goodbye.

He didn't call you to check up on you after you landed back in England.

And you wouldn't either.

...

Sunmer's almost over and you felt like you've wasted all your time. Back home, you didn't have the energy to get out of the bed most days. It's not like your parents or your sister cared anyway and your brother wouldn't really understand what was going on. He was only six and to him Jude Bellingham was the best football player on earth. He adored him and was always so excited to see his big sister with his idol, hand in hand and what not. Poor kid, you'd have to tell him some time that things aren't like they were before.

Thankfully, your friends were there to occasionally drag you out of bed. Your best friend Alicia was definitely ready to swing at him if he ever dared to enter the UK again. You thought it was funny how protective she was and she was just glad she got you to smile for the first time in days. At home, you didn't quite know what to do with your time. You opted for finally taking school a bit more seriously and the whole preparing for the new semester did help you clear your head from all that's happened back in Spain.

Jude still wouldn't call you. You wouldn't text him or try to say sorry, because you thought you didn't have anything to be sorry for. Sure, you kind of felt bad for yelling at him and not giving him the chance to speak, but he was still the one who messed up and should contact you to straighten it out. You banished all his football jerseys he gave you to the back of your closet. At first, you just wanted to light them on fire and throw all the gifts he gave you right into it, but Alicia thankfully made you overthink your decision.

"I hate him! Who does he think he is, huh? What the fuck—" This went on and on for a few minutes while you paced around your room. This was just two days after you came back from Jude's and your best friend, who sat on your bed, didn't know how to console you in this situation. She watched in disbelief while you picked out every single on of his shirts, didn't matter if it was a Dortmund or England or Real Madrid kit, and threw it on the ground, swearing up and down you'd tear them into shreds and burn them until they were unrecognizable. "Okay, look," Alicia stopped you, "I get what you're going through. Really. He's an asshole and I know how much it must've hurt but... come on, burning this shit won't solve the problem." You stopped dead in your tracks and slowly turned around to her, looking like you're about to cry again. "What do you mean?" Alicia sighed, "Maybe you guys make up. What then? Do you really wanna explain what happened to all of those." She pointed at the pile of shirts on your floor, to which you sighed this time. "I don't know, girl. Maybe you're right."

Your life felt weird without the most important person in it. Jude was out of the picture and that allowed you to finally peruse other people for once. While the first two weeks felt like torture, where summer dragged itself out without reason and you just wanted to go back to your normal life style again, September felt like a fresh new start.

Alicia had made it her objective to set you up with as many people as possible. Drunken nights out have gotten you nowhere the past few years, because you always wanted to stay loyal to the man who has your heart. Well, who gives a shit now? Definitely not Jude.

And, you thought you were over with that chapter for now, until your phone rang: "Hey, can we talk?" You picked up without looking at the phone screen, so hearing a voice so similar to Jude's made you jump. It was Jobe. "Oh my god, hey! Yes of course we can, how are you?" Jobe was always like a little brother to you and truth be told, you had missed him greatly. "Yeah.. yeah no, I'm doing fine. Are you, though?"

"Uhhh..." You paused for a moment, "Yeah. Yes I'm good. School's been okay, not too many assignments yet. Haven't thought about dropping out yet, I think that's the important part." Jobe chuckled at the other end of line. "You know that's not what I'm really asking you, right?" Oh great. Of course he'd tell his brother. Jude and Jobe were each others best friends and their brotherly bond allowed them to to talk about everything, even the most private stuff. "Ugh, okay. What did he tell you?"

"Not much until now. Just that you two had this huge fight. I knew he was an idiot, but I would've never thought he'd throw you away like that."

"He didn't... throw me away, Jobe. Now that I'm thinking about it, he can't control who he likes. If it's not me then.. well, you know."

"Don't lie to me like that. I can hear you lying."

It sometimes bothered you a lot how Jobe was able to read you like a book. You sighed and nodded, even though he wasn't able to see it. For a few minutes, you told Jude's brother what really bothered you and what actually happened. By the sound of his voice, he would've flown down there and strangled his brother, if he had the chance.

"Mom's been asking for you. But Jude kinda told her all that and she's too afraid she'll step over any boundaries if she called you." You sighed again. It was like family drama back home.. back with your family.

"I'll talk to her, I promise." You knew Denise would want things to be straightened out between Jude and you, but you didn't know if you could ever do that. At least not in the next few months.

"Okay. Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too." And Jobe hung up

Now you were able to sit with your thoughts for a moment. After a few minutes, you decided against calling Denise right away and just focused on getting ready for another night out with Alicia and your uni friends.

...

It's October. The end of October and it was the most perfect time of the year. Halloween was in sight and attending a University in England seemed to be the most aesthetic thing one could do. A few days ago, Denise had called you a second time after Jobe had told you about her conflict.

The topic was — sadly for you — the first El Clasico of the season that was right around the corner. You hadn't been into football these past couple of weeks, but you did notice that Real Madrid had an unusually weak start. Gossip pages on both TikTok and Instagram had already touched on the story around Jude: He wasn't meeting with Amy anymore and you were also not seen in a while. Intern sources claim there was a fight and now you wonder which one of those new friends you made in Madrid gave the intel. You weren't mad.

What gossip pages also talked about was you. You, without being linked to a footballer. For a month or so, you've been hanging out with a new guy — Joseph — a lot. He was nice, caring, fit and you did like him a lot. On the Internet, it's already being speculated if he's your new boyfriend.. as if Jude was your last. Amy, of course, also couldn't keep her dirty little fingers out of the situation and had to post 'cryptic' insta stories seemingly making fun of you. You chose your peace and ignored them. She was pathetic, you knew that now and you wouldn't let yourself be bothered by someone like her.

"I just want you to think about it, sweetheart. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay?" Denise voice rang out of your phone while you were slumped over a few books for your mandatory statistics course. She asked you to come down to Spain and be there for the match and well... Jude. More so for her, if she was being really honest, because she had missed you. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." You couldn't just outright say to her that you currently hated her son, right? "I don't know if I wanna see him— Or if he even wants to see me." Denise huffed, but showed herself to be understanding. "Believe me, Jude wants to see you. He doesn't say it directly, but I can tell. A mother can always tell. He's been upset lately because of your new.. who is he?" You froze. "What? You mean Joseph? Oh, he's not my boyfriend if that's what you're asking." Later Denise told you that Jude had no right to be mad at you or Joseph, because of everything he had done with Amy and such. You were grateful that she understood that completely right. Thinking about Jude so often wasn't something you had planned, but emotions kept bubbling up. You missed him. Terribly and you didn't want to admit it. "You know what? Yes, fine, I'll be there."

"Ohhhh my god, why did I agree to this? What is wrong with me?" You were talking to yourself while you packed a small suitcase for the few days you'd be staying in Madrid. Maybe you thought this was an opportunity to patch things up.. but things needed a lot of patching. Were you ready to forgive him yet? No. No, most definitely not.

Alicia also told you it was a bad idea, but you did want to see Denise again, so whatever. If not for her son, then for her. The whole flight over you painted out different scenarios on how this thing would go. Would Jude be happy to see you? Glad even? Or brush it off and still be mad at whatever he thought he had a right to be mad at? How were you supposed to act? Congratulate him if he won? Comfort him if he lost? Celebrate if he scored a goal? Talk to him at all or just be there?

Denise had offered you to stay at their place, but you had politely declined. Not even the devil could make you go back there after the wound was still so fresh. Or maybe you're just exaggerating a lot. You couldn't really tell if you were too paranoid or if you should actually be feeling like this. At least some people were on your side.

"Look, you don't have to worry, you can go." Joseph said in his deep voice, turning the steering wheel left in the direction google maps was telling him to. "Yeah, I just. Man, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I really like you and.. I wanna keep seeing you." He could tell your indecisiveness in your voice. Joseph was, of course, also a huge fan of Jude, if he was being honest. He didn't start going out with you just because you were associated with him, but he didn't mind hearing all the drama first hand. Ultimately, he understood he took on some kind of 'rebound' character, even though he also understood that Jude and you had never been in a relationship. "I like you too," Your date laughed, "But I think, like personally, you should go. Carrying all that weight of unresolved feelings and stuff won't be good for you." He was very mature and you definitely needed someone like that right now. You can't believe you were on your way to a very nice restaurant — a date — and you were still talking about Jude. "I'm sorry that I'm bothering you with all of this." You said after a few minutes of silence. "You're not bothering. I think it's nice that you trust me enough to tell me all of this."

On the other side, Jude, the man himself, was slightly mad at his mom that she even thought about inviting you. And he was mad that you accepted. Truthfully, he wished for nothing more than to see you again, since his feelings for you grew over the months. He kept cursing himself for realizing all of that now and not the years before. At the start of the season, he missed you being there for his first game. He missed seeing you in the crowd, he missed seeing you with his mother, he missed seeing you happy and celebrating when Real won. He missed seeing your absolutely beautiful face. He missed your hugs, your warmth, the smell of your favorite perfume. He missed your voice and talking to you the most.

He realized he wasn't playing his best, regardless of giving his everything on the pitch. It was emotional distress and he brushed it off to his friends and team mates as 'having too much stress'. Jude still woke up everyday excited to play football, but it was still a lot more fun when he knew you were watching — Doesn't matter if that was from home or right there in the stadium.

The feeling he felt deep in his bones had something to do with jealousy, longing and sadness. A mix between every negative thing in his life and he couldn't seem to get rid of it. Jude thought that maybe, if you were there after the El Clasico, it would resolve itself. All he needed is you and for you to forgive him. He also knew that he had to prove himself for it to work.

He hated that he had to prove himself against Barcelona and have you watch him. Judge him. Hate him. At least Jude thought you hated him — Why you accepted to come to his game was a mystery.

While he was busy sorting out his thoughts during the last hour before the game, you've been picked up by Denise, per her request. She gave you a little side hug in the car: "Aww, good to see you, sweetheart!" She exclaimed full with excitement. You actually were excited as well, to see her and be able to watch the game. It's not like you always only attended because of Jude. No, you've become good friends, or at least acquaintances, with most players and slash or their partners. "Good to see you, too. It's been a while, I've missed you."

You gapped about everything in your life, mostly about school and your family. Honestly, you haven't really talked to them in a hot minute since you immediately moved out when you graduated. Mark and Denise were a big help, because your parents wouldn't step up. Sometimes they'd try to call you and most of the times you wouldn't pick up. They had ignored you most of your life, what makes this specific day so special that they'd call? You didn't owe them anything. But, during these times, you wished you had a mom you could actually call and talk about it.

"Look. Jude's been.. down lately. And I know what he did and all that jazz. I just want you to know I'm on your side." Denise whispered to you while you took your seat once you were in the breathtaking stadium the Santiago Bernabéu is. On the big screen you, suprisingly, sae your face. You, who looked up and smiled slightly when noticing the camera on you. You kind of forgot this feeling, but you didn't really miss it.

"I appreciate that." You whispered back to Jude's mom, who started to laugh next to you. "I know what an idiot he can be. Oh, you have no idea how hard his early teenage years were with him."

"I do. I was there." Denise chuckled and nodded. She'd always call you soulmates, two people who couldn't be torn apart. You knew Jude better than anyone, since he'd always run to you with his problems rather than his mom or his dad. Later, Denise would bribe you with sweets or your favorite snack to go tattle on him to her. Of course, you'd never tell her Jude's big secrets or one's that could literally get him grounded for the next ten years, but it was entertaining to watch him get in trouble for small things like a failed test or for missing curfew.

"Different jersey?" You turned your head over your shoulder to check the back, as if you didn't know what kind of jersey you wore. It was blank, didn't have a name on it. "Sorry," You sighed when thinking back at the hassle that was picking out the right one, "didn't think.. I just thought this one was more appropriate."

You knew if fans photgraphed you with this one on, rumors would arise in literal seconds.

"Oh my god! She isn't wearing Jude's jersey!"

"Look, it doesn't say 'Bellingham' on it.."

"They really had a fight!"

Trying to clear your thoughts was hard here, under the eyes of everyone, so you excused yourself to the bathroom for a minute.

...

Well, this really didn't seem like the greatest season for Real Madrid. The game started off okay, with many offside goals and groaning from your side of the stadium. You tried your best not to have your eyes glued to Jude, but rather watch Vini, Kylian, Fede... anyone!

You'd tune out all the cheering and clapping once Barca had scored their third goal of the game. Jude didn't play his best, absolutely not. You wondered why that was, why this specific game? He probably knew you were coming, maybe he was under pressure because of you. Maybe he was scared to mess up in front of you. Maybe—

Wait.

This isn't about you. Is it?

You tried avoiding sounding so selfish and narcissistic in your own head, even though you didn't have to prove it to anyone. No one was there to read your thoughts, why were you so self critical? It probably was because of you. No. Or.. maybe? You definitely wished you were messing with his head right now, as somw kind of revenge. You didn't like losing though... he could've done more!

During Half Time a little before, you had spoken to Joseph over the phone:

"Dude, this is going terribly for you guys." The man quipped on the other end of the line, apparently not all that mad about it. "Ugh, tell me about it." Joseph had told you he wasn't the biggest fan of Real and you accepted that, but these kind of talks were getting really annoying. "I'm hiding in the bathroom. Like.. I don't even want to continue. He probably doesn't even want to talk to me after if they keep going like this." Joseph audibly laughed, not trying to hide his amusement. "Noooo.. come on. You have to try! Even if things don't work out.. I'm right here, baby." Hearing a term of endearment out if anyone's mouth but Jude's was cringe. "Haha.. yeah. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." After you hung up, you stormed out of the bathroom stall, coming to a straight halt when seeing a woman at the sink fixing her makeup. Oh no, she heard all of that? How embarrassing.

To say your mood was ruined is an understatement. This sucks, the game, the opposing team, Jude Bellingham who's still not giving his all... You slumped back in your seat, hearing Denise sigh. Yeah, this was going to be a looooong evening.

...

There were no smiles, no laughing, no nothing. Losing 4-0 against your biggest rivals was also a thing of its own. You were standing at the end of the tunnel with Denise and basically everyone else who was here to see one of the players. You heart was racing, your palms were sweaty — You had sworn to yourself that you wouldn't get so worked up about this but you still did.

When Jude's eyes met you, it was like everything around him froze. He was happy to see you, happy to have you in his arms just a second and—

His last name wasn't on the back of your shirt. So it's true? The guy everyone's been seeing you with is your boyfriend? To be fair, Jude thought, he brought it upon himself. When you finally did lock eyes, you couldn't look away. He looked so sad and disappointed, in the loss of course. The tiny twinkle in his eyes told you that he was actually glad to see you.

It's like you two were connected even in a time like this. Just like you, he couldn't look away. Just like you, he wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. Just like you, his heart was pounding. Jude was confused on what to do and just greeted his mom first, while you stood next to them, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had awkward eye contact with some other people around you, who apparently knew what was going on and just gave you a look of pity. Wow, why is everyone here so invested in your private life? It's not even that exciting, everyone has drama once in a whi—

"Hey," Jude greeted you rather breathlessly and stared down at you. "Hey." You couldn't do it. You couldn't look his way. That was quickly resolved anyway when he took the liberty and hugged you. Jude wrapped his arms around your torso, tightly, like you'd disappear if he let go. Because of muscle memory, you rested your head against his chest, not knowing how to reciprocate this act of affection. "I'm.. I'm," He whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

It sounded like he really needed you. Out of courtesy, and not because you wanted to, you hugged him back. After it lastet a moment to long, you tried to pry yourself from his grip, to which Jude immediately let go. Shit, he obviously overstepped a line.

Jude's eyes lingered on you, on your clothes, your hair, your slightly trembling hands. It was like the world around you two didn't exist anymore, but rather only this moment you two shared. You couldn't wait to get away from here. "Okay, let's drive you back, honey." Denise said after a few moments of pure silence.

...

The car ride back to your hotel was excruciatingly long. You kept biting your nails while Jude was busy, or at least pretending to be busy, with his phone. You saw him swipe around the weather app multiple times. Denise didn't even try to make small talk, mostly because she couldn't even really talk about the match without annoying her son with the outcome.

"We're here," She eventually said, and you thanked god for that. "It was really great seeing you again, Denise!" The woman turned around to see your face one last time and lightly pinch your cheek, before turning to Jude and trying silently urge him to say something.

"I'll take you to your room—"

"Oh! Oh no, that's really not necessary, Jude, I can—"

"Come on." The footballer stepped out of the car.

Denise mouthed a quick and honest "I'm so sorry" after you sighed. Why would he want to prolong this absolutely awkward meeting again. Oh god, if he wants to 'talk it out' you're done with him.

Silently, you followed the young man through the lobby and past the reception, where he pressed the button for the elevator. It's glass doors mirrored the two of you and how you were standing nect to each other quite uncomfortably. Jude had his hands stowed away in his pockets and you were clutching your bag to you as if he'd snatch it any minute. Thankfully, it was really late and there weren't any other guests going in or out of the hotel. The stupid hotel lobby music was the only thing that filled the silence between you two and it was starting to get on your nerves.

Finally, the elevator arrived with a little 'Ding!'. "Ladies first." Jude muttered and let you go in before him. You didn't say thank you.

"So," Oh no, what an uncomfortable start already. "You and.. that guy, huh?" Jude asked while the elevator was going up. "What guy?" You asked back, just as dryly. "You know who I mean." This made you think back to the call you had with Joseph during the game and it made you cringe all over again. "Uh.. no. No, nothing's going on between me and.. that guy."

Jude sniffled. He turned his head to you and mustered you for a good minute, before the elevator doors opened and he let you step outside first. "Are you sure?" Were you? That was a good question. But being in Jude's vicinity made you sure again. "Yes I'm sure."

"You're not.. That's.. The jersey's blank."

"Yes, I know."

"I thought, maybe it was because you're with that guy now."

"No. I just didn't feel like it. You understand, right?"

After a quick stroll through the hallway, you came to a halt at your room's door. Jude sighed, since there were obviously still things he wanted to talk about.

"Why did you come? I thought you.. you wouldn't want to see me for a while?"

"I don't know myself, okay? Jesus, I don't know anything right now! I wish people would just leave me alone with all of this bullshit, okay? It has consumed my whole life for the last weeks. I just need some peace and quiet."

"Was the hug too much?"

You paused, leaning your hand on the door handle. "No, it wasn't." In reality, you had wished Jude would've just swept you up your feet, hugged you, said a proper sorry and kissed you. A kiss would make you fold, that's for sure. You both were so sickly in love and it wss obvious.

"I really want to fix this."

"Oh yeah? And you're doing that by how? By ignoring me? By not texting or calling me?"

"You didn't call either."

"You know damn well why I didn't reach out first, Jude! You fucking hurt my feelings! You made me cry! You said you'd never..."

Jude held his breath at your words, suddenly feeling like an alien standing in front of you. "I'm sorry. I'm a coward. Please let me fix this." He begged one more time and just watched you dig around your bag for the card key to your room.

"I think you should go, Jude Bellingham."

"I don't want to go! Please just, talk to me! Communicate! We can make this work, I'll be better. I promise."

"I'm really sorry for your 4-0 loss today."

Before you were able to completely go through the door, Jude grabbed you by your arm and slightly dragged you back to make you look at him.

"I'm being serious. Because I have serious feelings for you."

"I was serious, too."

"I'll prove myself. I promise."

You removed your arm from his grip, glaring at him through your eyelashes. "You better not fucking break it."

And you were gone. In your room. And he was left all alone again in front of it.

[gothicfied]

Comforting the spanish nt after the nations league final

Pairings: Lamine Yamal x Reader, Pedri x Reader, Gavi x Reader, Pau Cubarsi x Reader, Fermin Lopez x Reader, Dean Huijsen x Reader, Nico Williams x Reader

Warnings: Slight swearing on Gavi's part, other than that it's just fluff/comfort, reader is implied to be spanish in some parts, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

A/N: lolololol I actually couldn't care any less about them losing and Morata basically just got karma for the whole "¿Donde esta Musiala?" thing last year. Where he is? Where's your penalty goal? Anyway, I do kinda feel bad for them because I was lowkey rooting for Spain. No hate to any of the players tho, this is just a sport that no one should take that seriously. Enjoy!

Lamine Yamal

Your mood after Ronaldo's equalizer in the 61' minute was basically already ruined. To see your boyfriend fight so hard for a win and still get fouled left and right, booed by the portuguese fans and very obviously not feeling confident with his own skills was heartbreaking to say the least.

You wanted your nation to win. To feel that euphoria again, like after the EURO's. But most importantly, you wanted to see Lamine win.

The loss hit hard and everyone around you seemed inconsolable. With the rest of Lamine's family, you waited for him at the end of the tunnel, feeling really annoyed with the sound of the Portugal National Team celebrating outside.

Wordlessly, Lamine approached you and hugged you right after his mom and dad. Carefully, you threaded your hands through his — patchily bleached — hair, smiling to yourself when you felt him squeeze you even tighter. He is your starboy, the best player in the word (to you, at least) and seeing him so discouraged and agitated made your heart ache for him.

"You okay?" You asked after a minute or two of just standing there in each others arms. Lamine just shook his head in a more hesitant way — He hated admitting to stuff like this. Whenever he lost, or the team lost, he felt weak and he thought he could've done more. You had to keep reminding him that this was a group effort.

"You did your best," You pulled away from his slowly to face him, "and I'm proud of you. It'll be better next time, I promise you." Your boyfriend gave you a little smile and kissed your forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Pedri

"I'm sorry I couldn't win it for you. Jesus what is wrong with me? I probably missed the open net like.... twenty times!" Pedri whined next to you in the car back to the hotel the team was staying in. He had been complaining ever since he found you in the crowd of relatives, friends and partners of the other players.

And he wasn't complaining because of a selfish reason or anything, no, he was complaining because he disappointed you. Pedri would've loved seeing you with the trophy, or his gold medal around your neck. And after all of that, playing like god was watching, all he had was a second place prize. It simply wasn't good enough.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself." You responded and took his hand into yours. Pedri was the most talented player on the team, you were sure of it. And you loved him no less when he lost or when he didn't play his best — That would be ridiculous!

"I have to be hard on myself! I just.. I could've.." Hearing him sound so defeated almost made you cry. You didn't care that your nation didn't win, you only cared about your boyfriend and the fact that this seemed to really bother him. You reached for Pedris face and turned him towards you, pressing a kiss on his lips.

"There is always a next time. You were great out there. And, I mean, there's many more trophies for you to win! Who actually cares about the nations league anyway?" The footballer smiled against your lips and kissed you back, because it seemed like that was the only thing that would make the pain go away.

Gavi

When Gavi loses, he's angry. Irritated. Frustrated. And it's even worse when he doesn't get a chance to help out his team. You came to Germany in hopes of seeing your boyfriend play his best and win this goddamn trophy. He loves playing for Spain like nothing else, it fills him with the greatest pride on the planet. De la Fuente not giving him any minutes made your blood boil.

Gavi stared into nothingness while you were getting ready for bed. He had his arms crossed over his chest, like the whole night actually, still fuming about the outcome of the game.

When you were finally done, you let yourself fall into the softness of the bed, immediately crawling under the blanket for some warmth. The whole room was filled with a cold atmosphere because of your boyfriend, even though he didn't even want it to. Gavi loved you like nothing else, but he'd always go non-verbal after a bitter loss.

"Gavi?"

No reaction.

"Gaaavi?"

Still no reaction.

"Pablo?"

When hearing his first name, his head snapped to you and his gaze finally softened from his constant frowning. "I'm sorry," He eventually huffed out, "This shit just fucking sucks." You understood him perfectly, even though you don't play any sport comparable to football.

You also had great pride in your country and sometimes it was like Gavi loved Spain more than himself. After a minute of silence, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face between him and the pillow behind him. "I know you would've scored." You mumbled to him. Gavi's hands came to rest on your hips as he reciprocated the warm hug that he really needed right now.

"I'll do it next time. For you."

Pau Cubarsi

Pau isn't one to cry or sulk over a loss. Losing against Portugal and a big player like Ronaldo surely had it's impact on him, though. He didn't play — He didn't get the chance to play. And on one level, he understood the decision: This wasn't just a game with no importance, this was the final and it was obvious his coach would rely on more experienced players.

"I swear I'm not mad. Just a little disappointed, that's all." Your boyfriend said as he examined the silver medal hung around his neck. It felt like you were more upset about the loss than him, but that's kinda what you liked about Pau. He's a sweetheart and wouldn't lose his cool, ever. You wish to be like him more often than not.

And while all this commotion was going around you, Pau only had eyes for you. Sure, he was just as sad as some of his other team mates, but seeing you made it all better.

"Well, I still want you to know that I'm proud of you." Gratefully, you accepted him hugging you as a response to your words. Pau's hugs were warm, comforting and always helped you in the times you needed it most.

You were originally planning on comforting him, but it seems like it was the other way around now. And you didn't complain.

"We'll win it next time. The world cup I mean. And I'll do my best, for you if course."

"You'd win it just for me?"

"Obviously. You need something to brag about to your friends, right? For example, a super great boyfriend who's the champion of the world."

Fermin Lopez

Benched. He was benched both games. Why would you waste his time like this? Oh, he got a free trip to Germany just to lose, how great. Yes, it seemed like you were more frustrated about Fermin not getting a chance to play than the actual loss of Spain itself.

"Like.. what was he thinking? Seriously, with you on the pitch, I'm sure y'all would've won. Like, this is ridiculous. Like, so ridiculous! Like.."

"How often do you wanna say 'like' in a row?" Fermin laughed at your temper.

"I don't know. How come you're so calm about this?"

Your boyfriend shrugged and looked on ahead on the road, the lights on the side of the street mirroring in his oh so beautiful eyes. "It's football. We'll win it next time, my love." Fermin's voice soothed your mood.

"It's not just football, though. It's... well, it's your life, isn't it? Your job, your hobby.." Fermin laughed again, looking at you with a 'are-you-serious-right-now' kind of expression. You couldn't quite read him or what he was thinking right now and maybe that frustrated you a little more.

"There's so much more to my life than football. For example: You. Who cares about some trophy when I have you by my side." Now you had to smile at his cheesy words.

"Oh, I love you, Fermin."

"Oh, I love you too."

Dean Huijsen

The last few weeks have been a huge deal to Dean. The move to Real Madrid, his boyhood club, the nations league final coming closer and closer... he was so excited and kept telling you about it. All that, just to lose. He was beside himself.

Your poor boyfriend was completely shattered after losing in the penalty shootout, immediately trying to find you and his family after the winner's ceremony. With how tall he was, you were able to spot him quite fast and make a beeline to him. You knew Dean, and usually he'd be fine with a loss, but this? This was a different number.

"Ohh, I'm so so sorry, my love." You whispered in his ear while holding him close. The death grip Dean had on you told you everything you needed to know. His whole body hurt from all that running around — Running around and defending for his life, which still didn't win him the trophy he deserved.

"I just... I really wanted to win this time." Dead had burried his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling strings of words you didn't quite make out with all the noise around you.

Eventually, he pulled back and kissed you as a form of gratitude for you being here. It might've not been the trophy today, but he sure as hell won in life by having you with him. He was sure you were the best thing that happened to him in his life.

Nico Williams

Nervously, Nico was tugging at his shorts while waiting on the sidelines for his family, and for you. The silver medal around his neck hung heavy — Heavy with defeat and the tears of the people he disappointed. He surely put his all into this one match, creating chances left and right, but ultimately it wasn't enough.

"Nico?" He heard your voice peep out from behind him. "Nico! Baby, I'm so sorry." Without another word, you had wrapped your arms around his neck and yanked him towards you, obviously thinking that he needed some serious comforting.

His large hands wrapped around your torso, relishing in the warmth your body gave him. "It's okay," Nico started, voice just as confident as before the match. "We gave it our best. It's whatever now."

You pulled back slightly, just to be able to press a kiss to his forehead and gaze into his eyes. "It's not whatever. I swear, that referee was paid, I'm sure of it!" Your boyfriend laughed at your conspiracy theory and just shook his head.

There wasn't much comforting needed when yiu were there — So effortlessly funny and sweet. Sometimes he felt like he didn't deserve you. "I love you, mi amor."

[gothicfied]

hiii just wanna stop by and say that i rlly like ur writings!!

hi back! Thank you for your kind words, I really appreciate that🫶

In general, I gotta thank y'all for all the nice feedback I've been getting for my football stuff. The Squid Game stuff will most definitely be back for S3, tho lol

[gothicfied]

Portugal Vs. Spain | UEFA Nations League 2025 Final | 08.06.2025

[gothicfied]

A/N: I'm currently on vacation and I'm literally spending every minute of the day at the beach. This got me thinking about all types of scenarios with different players, but, in honor of the nations league finale today, I had to write for Pedri.

The feeling of the sun sizzling on your skin and the smell of the ocean kept you grounded in reality, even though you might've already been in heaven. Joggling uni and work, hobbies, friends and family all at once was tiring, so when the semester ended and you finally had some free time, Pedri decided to spoil you with a vacation.

Okay, well, the word 'vacation' is used loosely here. For the longest time now, he wanted you to meet the rest of his family in Tenerife and this just seemed like the most perfect opportunity. Pedri was definitely the love your life — He's caring, sweet, a family man and absolutely mesmerizing. He always says, when you meet his family back in his home town, that it would seal the deal for him. Make him propose, probably. You always brushed it off as a joke, but the way he so lovingly gazes at you when he thinks you're not looking gives you doubt.

Said boyfriend was also sunbathing next to you, typing away at his phone he clumsily held against the sun so that it wouldn't blend him. Eventually, he shut the device off and threw it back into your beach bag, turning to face you.

"Mi amor," He started, pushing your stray strands of hair away from your face. "Yeah?" Slowly, you opened your eyes to him looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing on the planet (and to him, you are). Your sunglasses made it hard for him to recognize how you were staring back, only catching on when an amused grin appeared on your face.

With a huff, he laid back down on his sunbed. "You're enjoying yourself, I see."

"Obviously I am. It's beautiful here, you know. Whenever you retire, we HAVE to move here, okay?" Pedri smiled at your words and took around the beach, taking in the beautiful scenery in front of him aswell.

"I can't grow tired of it either. I swear, I'll marry you here, I promise."

Now you were the one smiling, especially at the thought of marriage. The footballer grabbed your hand gingerly, lacing your fingers together with his.

The only thing that actually bothered Pedri was.. well, everyone else here. Not the women, no, the men. The men who looked at you in a way that made him disgusted with the world: You were obviously taken and yet they still looked at you like you were their prey. It disgusted him beyond comprehension.

Pedri wouldn't call himself possessive or overly jealous, but it still bothered him. In one way or another he understood why these other men looked at you that way — After all, you were breathtaking in that bikini. So, he'd just glare at anyone who'd dare to look at you a little too long.

You understood it through the way he'd grip your thigh. "Baby?" You looked up from your book, giving your boyfriend a questioning look. "What?" He gave you the same look back. "Are you trying to tell me something, or?" You set your book aside to slide over his hand with your own and make him release his grip.

"I'm sorry I just... I don't like the way they're looking at you."

"Who?"

"These people. Like.. man, you're my girlfriend and they're still staring." This made you laugh.

If you knew Pedri would feel this way, you would've taken up on his offer to stay at home and lounge at the pool, but no. You wanted to see the beach so badly. You leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, leaning your forehead against his. "You think I'm interested in any of them?"

The side eye he gave you answered your question enough, but Pedri still shook his head. "I chose you and I love you. Don't forget that."

Pedri's cheeks turned pink — Their signature color after every game he had. And the smile he gave you was more beautiful than any landscape could ever be.

[gothicfied]

I SLIT MY OWN THROAT JUST TO SEE IF YOU'D MOURN ME

Pairing: Héctor Fort x fem!reader, toxic situationship

Summary: While Héctor keeps you on your toes about your relationship, telling you that he loves you, amongst other things, he can't quite seem to commit to you. To him, it's all no-strings-attached, but you want more and you end up hurting your own feelings in the process.

Word Count: ~4.3k (oops, not again)

Reading Time: ~17 Minutes

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, mentions of sex and hooking up, mentions of alcohol and drinking, heavy swearing, Héctor turns into a real asshole at the end, he makes reader cry, reader knows something has to change but doesn't try to change anything, complicated mess of feelings on both sides, no hopeful ending, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

A/N: BOAHHHHH we lowkey gotta execute all of portugal rn. GERMANY WTF????? Wie kann man so eine BESCHISSENE PISS ZWEITE HALBZEIT SPIELEN🫩 I already kinda knew we were losing when I saw 3-4-3 and Waldemar Anton with Robin Koch in the defense. WE LET A GRANDPA SHOOT A GOAL WHAT IS WRONG WITH US (yes, Ronaldo is not my goat)???? This was finished in rage, so excuse any angry spelling mistakes, but we just lost in the most embarrassing way. Word Cup, here we come (we'll still win, of course)! On a diffrent note tho: It was really fun writing for Héctor. He's probably one of the prettiest men I've ever seen in my life. Also, I'm 100% sure he's a very sweet guy who wouldn't do something like in this fic lmao lmk if y'all want a part 2 with a happier ending! Inspiration for this was this song👇

Those beautiful eyes. Big, tantalizing, brown eyes that you seemed to get lost in every time you saw them. And, it didn't matter that you were just looking at a picture of him. You could stare at him for hours and not get bored of it. If he would let you.

You and Héctor met just a couple months ago in the streets of Barcelona. To be honest, you didn't know who he was — And he didn't expect you to. The minute he layed his eyes on you he knew you were perfect: Mostly because your biggest interest wasn't football. You were a fresh breeze in his life, finally someone who wasn't connected to his career. To you, though, it was probably the coolest thing to have a professional football player like you. Héctor is tall, talented, easy to talk to... You like the fact that he works out and surrounds himself with good people. His first impression was perfect, it was natural to fall in love with him.

If things could've stayed that way, you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be beside him, in his bed, looking at the real thing. As the situationship progressed, you realized that Héctor was different deep down. He wasn't this charming young man social media makes him out to be (because, of course, the first thing you did was stalk him on the internet to see what people had to say about him).

Soon enough, you took notice that he treats hou more like a side piece than a girl he's interested in. You're good enough to take out, mostly to parties, and for sex, but that was kind of it. Then, when you were back home, you'd watch tiktoks of fan interactions Héctor had and wondered why he didn't treat you with the same amount of respect.

There's phases of love bombing, meaning he'll send you flowers to your doorstep, invite you over to his house to cook together or buys you expensive things you wouldn't ask for, but those are followed by weeks of silence. Like right now. All you can do is stare at the screen, pictures of you two together and text messages from two days ago:

"You're so beautiful, mi amor."

"I want to take you to training with me."

"I love you."

He loves you. You hold onto those three little words for a long time.

...

"Oh my god, seriously, you need to get a grip girl." Your best friends voice rung out of your phone. "What do you mean?"

You were currently sitting at your vanity, getting ready for... something. You didn't know what it was yet, but something was telling you that Héctor would text you.

"What I mean? Are you crazy?" Calling Mia for advice on this situation always gave you a reality check. She'd never lie to you or coddle you and that's exactly what you needed. You wanted to not care about his attention so much, but it was like your body yearned for it. "That boy has you wrapped around his finger and he didn't even need to do anything." Carefully, you curled your eyelashes while listening to Mia go on and on about your situationship. "And still, he won't respect you."

"How is he not respecting me?"

"Girl..."

"What?"

"All this hanging out and hooking up and he still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend? You know he meets up with other girls too, right?"

Of course you knew. Hearing that out of somebody else's mouth hit a bit too hard, though. You sighed and stared at yourself in the mirror, a weird feeling suddenly settling in your stomach. That was, until you heard a ping from your phone. With a gasp, you quickly grabbed it and heard Mia groan in annoyance on the other end of the line.

"I'll pick you up in 15, be ready."

"See, I told you he'd text!" You continued to do your makeup gingerly and all giggly. Even if your best friend didn't like what Héctor was doing with you and thought that you were a bit too naïve, she let it slide. This time. At no point you thought Mia was jealous of you, though. Other friends always made it sound like she was trying to get in between of your relationship with Héctor, mostly because he's a footballer bla bla bla, but, the truth is, you know. You know that the dynamic between you and the boy isn't ideal, you know that he's probably just toying with your feelings and you know that you should call this thing off. But you can't. And you won't.

Héctor, even if his feelings were bipolar towards you, never made you feel used. Whenever he's take you out to one of his friend's functions he'd introduce you properly and keep his arm around your waist. He made it all seem very normal and that was perhaps what made you so attached.

There's been nights where you cried yourself to sleep over rumors in your friendgroup about a new girl he's seeing or over the fact that he wouldn't text you. You'd never dare to double text, so if he left you on delivered, you were of course being petty. You ask yourself: Am I not good enough? What do other girls have that I don't? Why would he go for her and not me? What you didn't see was, that you were never the problem in the first place.

Teenage love is hard to swallow. Especially when considering that you both were almost 20. Mia thought this was highschool drama, but to you it was very real. Héctor would never deny your feelings whenever you opened up to him (which has happened like two times only), but he'd also never change. He gave you the feeling of being loved unconditionally. And it was addicting admittedly.

...

Like many times before in the last ten minutes, you were checking yourself out in your mirror. Mia had hung up just a few minutes before and your room felt cold and alone. Why were you sulking now? Did her words really hit home that close? You should be happy Héctor's coming over!

You were lying to yourself and you knew that. If only you could—

The sound of your doorbell ripped you out of your thoughts. The heavy feeling on your chest was lifted immediately when you grabbed your bag and ran down the stairs. Luckily, your parents were away for the weekend, which means if anything else would happen at your place...

Carefully, you opened the front door as to not seem so excited at Héctor's presence. Your eyes immediately fell to his hands which held a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He looked rather nonchalant about it, but the second his eyes found your face, they lit up like firework.

"Hey, princesa." He grinned as he called you the nickname, immediately pulling you in for a hug. His arms rested on your waist when he did so. It took you a moment to reciprocate the gesture, your hands resting on his chest. When pulling away, Héctor pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, which left you absolutely breathless... even though nothing had happened yet.

"These.. are your favorites, right?" Holding out the bouquet, you took it from his hands and grinned. "Yes.. yes they are. They're beautiful, thank you!" This wasn't anything new. After a long period of not meeting up, he's always have some sort of gift with him. Either your favorite snack, jewelry you mentioned liking before or, well, flowers. Héctor payed attention to detail, which made it harder for you to believe he didn't love you. There had to be something behind all of this, right?

On the way to your favorite stargazing spot, the footballer couldn't help but compliment you every minute.

"You look really pretty tonight."

"You've said that like five times by now."

"What? I can't compliment my girl no more?"

While you guys laughed about the situation, your brain couldn't help but replay Héctor's words in your mind. His girl. He called you his girl. If this wasn't a clear sign, then what is?

"I'm really sorry I couldn't make more time for you, by the way." Héctor sighed, absentmindedly skipping some songs on the playlist he put on. "Yeah, don't worry about it, I know you're busy." Obviously, you couldn't expect him to make time for you during the busiest time of the season. The last few games were on the horizon and you knew how important the sport was to him. "I shouldn't be too busy for you, tho! Like... ugh." You giggled at his frustration.

For the remainder of time, a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. You just watched him drive, which was really attractive in your mind. Héctor has called you his passenger princess before. Oh, seriously, how could this guy not be in love with you. It was almost impossible, especially with the way you put so much work into your appearance, or the way you behave around him (you know, not to seem so obsessed) and stuff. Unfortunately, you'd do anything for quiet moments like these as long as they're with him.

And a night out stargazing spot with Héctor always meant making out on the hood of his car.

...

Quietness. Warmth. Comfort. Those were all things you felt while laying next to him right now. Nothing happened tonight — Meaning no sex, that is. Héctor said, this wasn't the type of meet up for that. He wanted to savor the time he had with you tonight, that's all. He wanted to talk about everything, god and the world and maybe also why he's mad at the world right now.

It was natural to let him sleep over, especially when that meant he's hold you close while you slept. Héctor's arms around you always made you feel safe, like you didn't need anything else in the universe.

On one hand, it did make you extremely happy that this seemed to be more meaningful to him, on the other hand you didn't know why. You were suspicious... suspicious if he was feeling guilty about something and felt like he needed to make it up to you. Cheating, maybe. But, would it really be cheating if you weren't officially a thing? No, you had no right to call it that.

Héctors breath on your neck grounded you in reality again. Your hand was interlaced with his and all of this felt so domestic. The thing you were looking at on your phone cancelled all of that out in a minute. A mutual friend of yours and Héctor had sent you a screenshot of a snapchat story just 20 minutes ago.

Just as you had suspected, it was from a girl you didn't like anyway. She posted a picture with her on what seemed to be Héctor's lap. Oh, how much you wanted to beat the shit out of him right now. Perfect opportunity even: He's right beside you.

And then it hits you again.

You're not his girlfriend. What are you doing? Why are you so mad? He didn't cheat. He didn't do anything. It was in his right to pursue othrr girls but... wow, the things you'd do to be the only one. You bit down on your cheek to hold yourself back from crying as you just slid your phone under your pillow.

Héctor slightly shifted against you, making his presence apparent again. Your thoughts were half empty as you tried to make sense of the conversation you had earlier this night:

"Are you free on Saturday next week?" You turned your head to him and nodded, curious as to what Héctor had in mind this time. "Great, I want you as my plus one." Satisfied, he propped himself up with one arm and leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. "What do you mean? Plus one to what?" He proceeded to explain how one of his guy friends was throwing this huge house party, but obviously it was still exclusive. Somehow boys in Barcelona seemed to be plugged in everywhere, because you did in fact also recognize the name of that friend. "Uhhh... okay, fine, I'll come." Instead of saying thank you, Héctor pressed another kiss on your lips, leaving you no time to kiss him back. "We'll have a good time, you'll see."

Aha, why didn't he ask one of his other girls then if he loves them so mu—

"Mhm.. princesa, are you okay?" The sudden rumbling of his voice startled you. Confused you turned your head around, to find Héctor, half awake, already staring at you. "Yes? Why? Are you okay?" You whispered back. The boy yawned in response and nodded, looking like he was about to fall asleep again. "Yeah.. you just... squeezed my hand so hard, I thought you wanted me to wake up." Aaaaand he was knocked out again.

With an irritated look on your face, you turned your head back. Did you actually get this frustrated? You must've.

Great, it's like you're digging your own grave here. You thought tonight would be a good night out, but now it seems to settle in your mind that this was in no way healthy. You should talk to him.. no, you needed to talk. It was long overdue and you knew it.

...

The next morning, you didn't really want to be mad at him anymore. Especially not when he woke you up by kissing you down your neck.

On monday, you also didn't have the mental capacity to call Héctor or text him that you needed to talk with him or that you didn't want to go to that party on Saturday.

Same thing on Tuesday, just then he had facetimed you, which seemed to make all your worries go away.

On Wednesday, you just said fuck it, and you went with. Maybe, if you didn't go, you'd ruin an opportunity for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. It definitely felt like an appropriate timing, like afterwards when leaving the party. And, if it didn't happen, you could make new friends, get yourself drunk and pick out a new guy to like. And that wouldn't be cheating, just like how him letting another girl onto his lap isn't cheating either.

After another, for you depressing, phone call with Mia and a few other things to do with studying and worrying about other things for once, Saturday rolls around. Héctor comes by fairly early just to see you get ready. He says it's one of his favorite things, especially because he gets to have a say in what you'll wear. Sometimes he wants it matching, too.

In a slightly uncomfortable way, most likely because of his presence which had never happened before, you pull at the dress you decided to put on — Short, not at all classy and defining all in one. Quickly, you stole a glance at the guy on your bed, watching him tap away at his phone through the mirror. You squinted, trying to make out who he was texting through his mimics. Eventually, Héctor just sighed and put his phone away, his eyes coming to rest on you.

"It's like you're doing it on purpose." Héctor said with a grin and slowly stood up from your bed. You basically felt the way he dragged his eyes over your body, a slight feeling of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. You moved your gaze to your feet as you started feeling shy or some weird emotion you couldn't really register at all. It has never been like this before, so why are you sweating now?

"What am I doing on purpose?"

"Oh come on now."

You felt his hands come to rest on your hips, slowly dragging themselves over your ass and thighs. He was just eagerly watching your reaction in the mirror without a care in the world. "Hm? Ready to go?"

The minute you stepped into that place, you werr reminded why you didn't want to come in the first place. It's loud, filled with people you don't know and frankly don't want to know, and the smell of strong liquor, sweat and maybe other bodily fluids was in the air. Héctor haphazardly held your hand while dragging you through a crowd of people, trying to get to his friend. You felt watched, exposed and most definitely judged, even though most people were probably just doing their own thing. Or were staring at him and not at you.

"Hey, there you are!" You turned your head back to your date and the guy he was apparently invited in. Without so much as a "Hello" or "How are you?", he went in for a full hug to greet you. And when you tried shooting Héctor a look, he was already gone, off to somewhere else. Great. Now you were stuck with the host who doesn't know how to respect other's boundaries and his friends who are looking at you like they've never seen a woman before.

Twenty-or-so minutes later, you had randomly joined a mixed group of guys and girls who had dragged you in with the question "Oh my god, didn't you arrive with Héctor?" The drink in your hand was a badly mixed blend of what seemed to be cheap Vodka and Lemonade. Whoever made this must've been drunk out of their mind, but you started to get used to it the more you sipped to forget all that around you. You had gone completely non-verbal, another guy next to you was trying to flirt with you and one particular girl out of the bunch didn't seem to like this at all.

"And, you know, you're like the prettiest girl here, sooooo..." Matteo, the guy next to you, said waiting on a response from you. Apparently the appreciative nod you gave him was not enough, because he repeated himself again, trying to get just something out of you by placing his hand on your thigh. Quickly, you slapped it away with a serious expression this time: "Hey! None of that. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Matteo, a guy who had probably never gotten rejected in his life, was appalled. You couldn't care less, which he gathered by the way you rolled your eyes at him and continued to scan the area for Hèctor. "The fuck is your problem?" He sounded entitled when asking. "I'm just complimenting you. Don't you wanna have a good time? Jesus, women.."

You tried tuning him out by concentrating on the music rather his stupid voice, but it was hard ignoring this idiot who wouldn't stop speculating why you weren't interested. And then he blames it on women? You should've left the minute Héctor left you alone in this mess.

He was probably off somewhere with another girl, having the time of his life while you're stuck here with people who won't even talk to you. Except for Matteo, of course. Why be his stupid plus one of he was going to leave you anyway? What was the point of brining you here? In the end, you were stupid enough to even agree to this.

"Wait.. Are you his girlfriend?"

"Who's girlfriend?"

"Héctors! That's why you don't want me.. Man, sorry, I didn't know you guys were a thing now."

What and absolute idiot. But, the situation resolved itself. You just nodded and agreed, apologzing even for "not being available" or some bullshit. This, of course, made the others in the group listen up, too. Immediately, the girl next to you grabbed you by your shoulder and slightly shook you. "Holy shit! You're his girlfriend!"

Eventually, while you were getting knotted up in all the lies you tried to come up with to back this thing now, Matteo removed himself from the situation, making his rounds for a new drink and possibly a new girl to harass. This got interrupted, though, when he spotted your alleged boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Héctor."

"Matteo."

The latter got himself some water from the sink and drank it faster than he needed to.

"Dude, so sorry, I just tried hitting on your girlfriend. I wasn't trying to start anything so if she mentions that to you, just know I didn't mean it."

Héctor looked at him like he just said the stupidest thing in the world. He sniffled slightly and squinted his eyes, like that was going to help him understand this situation. "What do you mean my girlfriend?" Matteo seemed oblivious or simply too drunk to notice. "Huh? Yeah, the girl you left there."

"And.. she said she's my girlfriend? Only to you, or?" Héctor evidently got more and more irritated by this interaction and the information he had just attained. "No? She openly said you're her boyfriend. Aren't you? Like, bro, I really didn't mean to hit on her." No. You couldn't. Right? Why on earth would you? He thought you knew this was casual— What is your problem?

After a minute of angry silence, Héctor abandoned his drink by the other empty cups on the counter and made a beeline to you. "Awww, how cute! Can't believe you guys have been going steady now! I didn't even kno—" This... very challenging conversation with the girls in the group was suddenly interrupted by Héctor grabbing your arm. Not in a forceful way, but definitely in a determined one. Yeah, determined to get you out of here. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you," Héctor mumbled out, "but I need her for a moment."

The young footballer took the liberty to drag you all the way outside to his car, the cold wind of the night hitting you in the face pretty ungracefully. "Would you just tell me what's going on? Héctor?" And he wouldn't respond. He had wrapped his hand tightly around your wrist, shaking his head no everytime you asked him something. Eventually, when he reached for his car keys, you ripped your arm away from him: "What's wrong? What the fuck? That hurt, dude!"

"Get in." Héctor looked at you like you had just killed someone. "What?" You weren't going to lie, you were kind of scared of this now. "Get. In. I'm driving you home. This was a bad idea."

...

The whole car ride was quiet and cold. Not only would Héctor not talk to you, but he wouldn't even do anything to make this more bearable. Slowly, you realized that you had probably fucked it all up with this lie you came up with. To your defense: You needed it to get rid of Matteo and all the other guys trying to hit on you. But, Héctor didn't know that and you weren't ready to start this conversation just yet.

Without you realizing, he had pulled into your drive way and put the car in park. "Why are you telling others that you're my girlfriend?" Oh yeah. This was it, wasn't it? "Look, I had to okay? These guys wouldn't leave me alone and I just—"

"No. No! You.. you can't just go around and say stuff like that! Are you actually mental?" Héctor gradually raised his voice at you, which madr you shudder. Slowly, you turned your head in his direction, finding him already staring you down. His eyes were filled with an emotion you had never seen him with before. Especially not directed against you. "You have to be one crazy fucking woman to do that. I am not your boyfriend, okay? You should've just come to me.. god." You bit down on your cheek while he was clearly struggling to find words for this.

"Do you know what others will believe now? Huh? Do you know how fast this shit can spread? Huh? No! No you don't." Yes you did. You kept quiet as Héctor continued to yell at you about how this will effect rumors again, how this will make fan girls bring hell onto you and so on. You didn't care. The only thing you cared about was how he yelled at you. You heard you heart shatter into a million tiny pieces.

After a few minutes, you couldn't hold it in anymore: "Oh my god! Stop! Genuinely stop!" Héctor did stop, looking at you in an offended way. "Why can't you just be my boyfriend? Do you know how long you've been basically playing with me?" You yelling back at him with this sentiment only made him laugh. In frustration, sure, but he could already feel his blood boil at the choice of your words. "Nah, you can't be serious. Playing with you? I thought you knew what kind of thing this was!"

"Not until you said you loved me! Who does that to a person?" Your voice cracked when asking him that question. For months you've been dying to ask Héctor exactly this and now you know he wouldn't take you seriously. "You should've known this was casual! You know I go out with other girls, why can't you just leave things as they are! Now what will they think of me? As some kind of cheater?"

Tears started prickling down your face, quiet sobbing filling the dreaded silence. Héctor looked at you with a more remorseful expression, but still didn't do anything to comfort you. His head was reeling, as was yours.

You just unbuckled your seatbelt and bolted out of his car, slamming the door shut. You didn't look back, you didn't want to and you didn't need to. And Héctor just watched you go inside, back home again without stopping you, even though you really wanted him to.

You wanted him to realize what he did and come running to your front door to stop you, to hug you, to comfort you.

But those are all things you cannot expect from an immature teenager who doesn't even know when to correctly use the words "I love you".

[gothicfied]

there are two of them, TWO, and I can’t even have one, make it make sense 😩

[gothicfied]

Bf!Pablo Gavi Headcanons

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: Implied bullying, Reader breaks their nose, other than that it's just fluff! Not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: Oh man, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have the biggest crush on this kid during the world cup in 2022. He was literally everywhere on tiktok and no one could escape him. Literally. Even though he does get on my nerves at Barca, I'll forever like him unfortunately. Sorry for anything that doesn't make sense in the backstory lol Enjoy!

જ⁀➴ The story between Boyfriend!Gavi and you is the typical enemies to lovers one. Because, back in the early years of highschool, there wasn't a thing you hated more than the sight of him. He was your average teenage boy: loud, annoying, inconsiderate and disrespectful. The only thing he seemed to be good at was football and that's the only thing he'd talk about. He said, the best thing about him was that he's a product of La Masia.

જ⁀➴ You never wanted to give him the time of your day. Gavi was the absolute worst person to have PE with. Always so competitive and ruthless, especially in dodgeball. If it already wasn't enough that he bothered you in every other subject, he loved to aggravate you as much as possible by targeting you. And only you. The other girls called it a crush, you just thought he was annoying.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who always picked fights with you. To him, it was fun. In reality, he was just projecting on you, mostly because he really wasn't the brightest in school and you were so effortlessly smart. He was mesmerized by you and definitely had the hugest crush on you. He'd never admit that, though.

જ⁀➴ One eventful day made it all stop. At some point, it all just really got out of hands: He knew you weren't the best in football and he also knew you had no way of fighting back if he kept shooting the ball at you. What he didn't want though, was it to hit you straight in the face and break you nose. Don't worry, Boyfriend!Gavi got in a lot of trouble after that.

જ⁀➴ Until this day, he'll apologize to you. He actually felt bad and started to treat you differently starting in 10th grade. And by the end of your schook career, he had managed to make you fall in love with him.

જ⁀➴ There's nothing you love more than seeing Boyfriend!Gavi play football. While the sport in general might not be your favorite thing in the world, you could watch him practice every single minute of the day and not get bored of it.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who will absolutely go feral every time he sees you in one of his jerseys. To see his name plastered on your back makes him so insanley proud. You can also see it in the way his face flushes red every single time.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who values the short time you have in the morning the most. Where everything is peaceful and quiet. He often wakes up before his alarm and uses the spare time to admire your sleeping beauty. Sometimes you stirr awake and catch him watch you in your sleep, but no matter how many jokes you make about it, you secretly like it.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who will always facetime you the second he gets to his hotel room when he's away for a game.

"Oh my god, you wouldn't believe how cold it is here! Jesus.." Your boyfriend rants to you while looking out the window at the grey weather. He was in England after all, you couldn't expect much. "Awh, you hate it that much? I like the vibe, actually." Your comment made him snap his head back at the screen and give you a weird look. "You wouldn't like it when you're here. I can already picture you whine about it." Gavi gives you a shit-eating grin to which you just roll your eyes to. He was probably right — He somehow always is.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who will have little self-care-days with you. Days where he can just relax, mostly when he's currently injured or after the season. He'll even let you put a face mask on him, although he really isn't a fan of it. Your gallery is filled with stupid pictures of him looking disgusted, but you always think he's just exaggerating.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Gavi... who will absolutely kiss you breathless after a title win, even though there's millions of people watching. He just doesn't care — It's that simple. After that, it's mostly Lamine and Hector who will call him a simp, or even cringe sometimes. He knows you care to some degree, but he doesn't see a single reason why he should be ashamed to kiss the love of his life.

જ⁀➴ Even though you ask him not to, Boyfriend!Gavi will always give you more and more expensive gifts every birthday or christmas. To him, it's the only other way he can convey his love for you. "Words don't cut it anymore, cariño." He'll always say. Now you just choose to embrace this life style, since nothing will make him stop. You will always be grateful for every gift he gives you, expensive or not.

જ⁀➴ And before every game, either in the evening before or morning of, you will give Boyfriend!Gavi his good-luck-kiss. He swears by it. You mostly just laugh it off, but he'll forever argue that it makes him play better. It might be that way, but you're convinced of his talent and will cheer him on regardless if he plays well or not.

[gothicfied]

thank you for all the positive feedback, I promise part 2 is in the works😝🙏

THE DEVIL IN YOUR EYES WON'T DENY THE LIES

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader, best friends to ???

Summary: Even though it seems like Jude and you were always destined to be with each other, he wouldn't realize it until someone said it directly to his face. After months on plotting on your best friend, who drops hints here and there even if he didn't want to, he is now suddenly rumored to be mingling with another girl. She can't stand your guts and she'll make sure you know that.

Word Count: ~6.5k

Reading Time: ~26 minutes

Warnings: Mentions of drinking alcohol, Jude is kinda an asshole but not really, girl on girl hate, reader is struggling with her feelings for 99% of the time, Jude's stupid and proves himself to be stupid multiple times, mutual pining (if you squint), no happy ending/it's an open ending, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: omg seriously, I don't know what possessed me to do this. This is unnecessarily long and tbh I've never written a fanfic this long before. This took like a week and I think you can notice that in the way my quality of writing deteriorates LMAOOO sorry, the ending fell a bit flat, but I just didn't have the motivation anymore, especially after the literal DEVASTATING news of Lukita leaving the club????This calls for a part 2 tho, but only if it's really wanted this time. Title are lyrics from "back to friends" by sombr lolololol

It wasn't always easy being linked to one of the most popular footballers in the world. Even if the public was hit in the face with the fact that you and Jude were just friends, they wouldn't get it. And, it wasn't even like you guys never clarified it. In every interview, the footballer was asked at least once or twice about you and you couldn't even post an instagram story without people flooding your DM's with questions like:

"are you Jude's girlfriend???"

"can you guys just make it public?"

"you know it's legal, right?"

You and Jude. Well, you go way back. Okay, however far 'way back' goes with only 21 years of age. You had transferred schools in 6th grade and while everyone kind of ignored you on your first day, Jude didn't. He sat next to you in class, did group projects with you when no one else seemed to want to partner up with you, ate lunch with you when the only two friends you had were sick or just not in school... there were a lot of things he did out of pure kindness and platonic love that helped you through middle school. It wasn't like you were bullied or purposefully left out, it just seemed like you were to unnoticeable.

The two of you were inseparable by the time highschool started. Jude was doing the most with his talent in football and you were always right there cheering him on. His family loved you, your family loved him, it was almost like a future together was already carved out for you. You'd comfort him after a horrible loss, Jude would stay up hours just to study with you in your worst subject, and the both of you would sometimes sneak out to the park on random summer nights to stargaze. That's where the heavy stuff was shared.

"You have no idea.. I feel so secondary to my sister." You complained after your parents forgot one of your hockey games again, just because your younger sister had this math exam she so desperately needed to study for, with both mom and dad. Bullshit. She knew she was good enough and yet she still threw a fuss, just to annoy you. That's the kind of person she was: an attention seeker. "Shut up," Jude barked back, but there was no actually bite to his words, "you're not secondary to anyone! I'm being serious, your parents and sister are the problem. Not you." He slowly turned his gaze away from the night sky, stars shining as bright as they could in the light pollution of the city. "I'm just... Thank you for being there. Even if we didn't win." You also turned your head in his direction and met his eyes, ones so pretty you thought you were going to choke on your own spit. "You're always there for me, too. I'd be stupid if I missed your games!"

The first very big change came with Jude's transfer to Borussia Dortmund. Really, Germany?

You cried, and cried.. and cried some more when the day finally came where he had to move, to pursue is dreams. Sure, they were mostly tears of sadness and frustration and maybe you were a little mad at him, but you couldn't deny the proud feeling you had when you saw his debut. Jude in this big stadium with an even bigger fanbase cheering him on felt so right. He deserved it all, because you knew how much sweat, blood and tears were already invested into his football career.

But don't think he had forgotten about you! Anytime you could because of school and stuff, Jude would fly you out to his games. Proudly, you wore the last name 'Bellingham' on the back of your jersey, which always fell quite a bit too big on you. The footballer insisted on giving you his shirts after a game.. That just meant you had to wash the god damn thing four or five times to get all the sweat and the smell of grass out of it. Denise, Jude's mom, thought it was the cutest thing ever, always taking pictures of you whenever you attended a game with her.

Truth be told, Denise was more of a mom to you than your own parents. As the oldest, you felt left out and ignored by your parents because of your sister anyway, but when your baby brother was born, it was like you didn't exist for them anymore. Then, it kind of turned into a tradition for you to spend days like New Years at Jude's house. His father, Mark, helped you with your Uni applications and Jobe, his younger brother, had always treated you like family anyway.

It didn't come to a suprise that they'd take you on vacation, too. One time, there was a mix up with the rooms and, no matter how much Mark and Denise begged Jobe to just share the room with his older brother for a few days until things got sorted out, he flat out refused. "No! He's messy, leaves his clothes everywhere and kicks me in his sleep! I'm not doing that again."

Now that you were sharing the hotel room with Jude, you started to wonder how this shit would mess with your feelings about him. Yeah.. you may or may not have developed a slight crush on your best friend in the last couple of months, fueled by the tiktoks people made about the two of you. Jude was obviously not ashamed to post you in his story whenever you were together, apparently giving people the impression that there was something more going on. Oh, you wished it was like that.

You were sharing a bed. It was very late at night and all you could think about was one Insta gossip page posting about yours and Jude friendship... relationship? It was on your feed, it's not like you intentionally searched for it! You were quickly ripped from your thoughts when you felt a large hand slide over your stomach and pull you closer as soon as the half-awake Jude realized it was you that he grabbed and not a pillow. After that, he went right back to snoring. No shot he'd remeber doing this the morning after, but you were just giggling to yourself now. He likes you... he just has to!

The whole sharing-a-room-on-vacation thing became a tradition, too. You obviously didn't mind it, Jude didn't either. Whenever he thought you were sleeping, which you sometimes even were, he'd carefully put his arms around your neck or waist or anything and hold you close until he fell asleep himself. Then, the next morning, he'd act as if he was just as suprised as you at the way you both were tangled up in bed.

It also became your reality when he transferred to Real Madrid. Wow, Spain. This was it. Hopefully his club forever, since you were a big fan, too. Jude's debut there was nothing short of breathtaking, and skipping Uni to come down to Spain was all worth it — Especially for the hug he gave you after he sought you out in the tunnel. He ran to you like a little child to his mother, picked you up and spun you around while all you could do was squeal and laugh. You couldn't even try to pry yourself from his grip, not that you wanted to anyway. The post match interview was surely interesting.

"And, tell us, who's your biggest supporter outside your family? Probably the girl you've been taking with you everywhere you go, huh?" The interviewer of some sport programm you didn't know asked Jude, to which he just laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, yes! Her, of course.. who else?" He looked nervous when answering that question. And he was, definitely in that moment, because he felt like the whole world was watching him trying to not make it obvious that he had a huge thing for you. "Girlfriend?" The interviewer asked again, to which he shook his head: "Oh, nooo... I love her, you know, but we're best friends. Not.. Not together."

This brings you to now. Laying in the bed of the guestroom in his huge house in Madrid. It's summer and even the nights here have you sweating like no tomorrow. Not only that, but you can't sleep. You stare at your phone with your instagram feed open, a picture of you and Jude plasted right on the screen with the all-too-well-known 'Owkayy' starting the rampage this WAG fan account was always on. It's a picture of the both of you right after Real Madrid won the Champions League just a little over a month ago, with Jude staring down at you like he was dying to kiss you. Next slide was a picture of you comforting him after the loss against Spain in the EUROs just like two weeks ago. You'll never escape the rumors.

Everyone and their mom was convinced you belonged to each other. And, that thought made you so happy, you could even overlook the threats his fan girls sent you in your DMs. Who cares what they think, right? Everybody on the planet thinks you'll be with him!

There was this one other thing, though. Because obviously, you couldn't even have one thing to yourself in your life.

This influencer from the States, Amy or whatever her name was, you didn't really care enough to look, has been linked to Jude more often than you wanted.

Truth is, obviously you cared enough to look. Amy Samuels, 25 years old, beauty influencer, lives in New York, has two brothers and a step-sister, models in her spare time... She was everything you're not.

She was this beautiful blonde girl with the most piercing green eyes you had ever seen, her makeup always looked flawless and worst of all, she seemed down to earth. You thought maybe she was one of those unlikable, snobby instagram models slash influencers slash entrepreneurs, but no. She was a family person, had a cute dog she always posts picrures of and actually did her job pretty well.

You knew better than to let yourself get fooled by the image she puts up on social media, but her smile made it hard to forget that she seemed to be absolutely perfect. How Amy and Jude even got to know each other personally, you don't know. It must've happened over last summer or something, the time where you couldn't come to visit him, but had to stay home because of school stuff. And well, frankly because your life revolves around more than just Jude Bellingham.

There's countless of instagram stories she uploded with the same location tagged at the same time when he was there. One location in particular, you recognized right away: His bathroom. Not the bathroom of the guestroom, or the normal one out on the hallway, no. His. Bathroom. It made your blood boil. But why? In the end, isn't it your own fault for not telling him about your feelings sooner? On the other hand, he's been leading you on. You were so convinced you guys were soulmates, practically made for each other.

The emotional bond between you seemed to never loosen, no matter what you guys were put through. There were times where your friendship was definitely tested: that one toxic ex boyfriend you had in 11th grade, who absolutely refused to let you be friends with any male. When you tried to explain that to Jude, he was ready to go beat that guy up. He'd never tell you how relieved he was when you showed up crying at his doorstep, because you finally gathered the courage to break up with him.

"I feel.. I feel like—" You paused and sniffled hard, tears streaming down your face and there was nothing Jude could do to stop it. "such an idiot." To say he was startled to have you text him so late at night, asking if he was still awake because you really, really, really needed him right now was an understatement. But, thankfully he managed to smuggle you into his room without waking anyone in the house. Now you're just sitting on his bed, pouring your heart out about everything your now-ex had done to you in the last few months. Jude held you close, extremely close that night. After about an hour of violently crying into his chest, you had falled asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. The boy was wide awake, though, and surely didn't get any sleep at all. He cradled your face to his chest, his fingers gently threading through your hair to calm you down whenever you'd slightly stirr awake again. He felt so many emotions in that moment, mostly because he always thought he was the worst at comforting people, but you seemed to feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. That's what counted to Jude.

You were there when Dortmund lost in the UCL final to comfort him when he cried on your shoulder after getting in the car. The whole car ride long, you held his hand, telling him how good he played regardless and that the trophy is going to be his next season. Jude didn't reply. He stared out of the window, but you didn't mind. Back in the hotel room, he hugged you for what felt like an eternity, thanked you and kissed you on your forehead. Yeah, you guys have been through the worst.

Jude took you to any award ceremony as his plus one. For the longest time, a picture of the two of you on the night he won The Golden Boy Award was his lockscreen. And now? He's going to throw that away. His obvious feelings for you. He's not going to stop you whenever you kiss him on the cheek, hold his hand, sleep in the same bed as him. He won't correct himself when other people refer to you as his girlfriend and he'll laugh along whenever his parents call you their 'daughter-in-law'.

Oh, what a fucking asshole he is.

You think back to the time where Jude told you about a 'new acquaintance' he made while on a trip in New York. He'd talk about Amy from time to time, naming her a friend of his and sometimes you'd even see her at functions or parties or when going out with his friends. Somehow, she was always there. You never really thought anything of it, until those Instagram stories started to pop up and new rumors about Jude's dating life started to bubble. Suddenly, everyone around you was asking the same thing: 'Aren't you guys together?'

...

You woke up just as cranky as when you fell asleep with your phone in hand, the clock on the wall ticking being the only sound that filled the room. Denise was out of the country, just to visit Jobe for an exchange and to 'leave the house for you and Jude' wink, wink. God, how was it already this warm outside? August in Spain was no joke. You woke up sweating and you went to bed sweating, no matter how much deodorant you put on or if you showered like three times.

It was already 11am when you stepped out of the shower and brushed through your wet hair to let it air dry. You haven't heard a single peep from Jude yet, but maybe he was just letting you sleep in.

Your suspicions were proven to be true, when you made your way downstairs to find him making breakfast. The sound of your bare feet against the glass steps made Jude cock his head in your direction, smiling sweetly when getting a glimpse of you. "Thought you died up there, not gonna lie." He chuckled, but you were really not in the mood for it right now. Instead, you just groaned in slight annoyance and sat down on the couch, which was right in front of the open kitchen.

"Okay.." Jude came up to you, plate in hand. It was an attempt at making you your favorite bagel, which he's been trying to get right ever since you came back from your vacation in the US, craving it.

"Not funny?"

"No?"

"What's up with you today?"

"I just— Didn't sleep well, that's all."

After you took the plate out of his hand, Jude sat down next to you, stretching like he had just worked a 12-hour-shift just to sneakily put his arm around your shoulders. You were wearing one of his jerseys, but he still 'had' to push your hair to the front to check if it was his last name on your back. "It looks really good on you, you know?" Whatever you might've seen last night, no matter how mad you were at him or how frustrated you were with your feelings, that comment made you smile. You really tried not to, you tried looking away and pretend like the pool outside was more interesting than this conversation, but of course, Jude picked up on that. "I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah..." You rolled your eyes, "Thank you."

While you guys were having breakfast, Jude mentioned some party one of his new friends here in Madrid were throwing, even though he said it was more like a hangout with friends than an occasion to get super drunk. He obviously wanted you to come with, to which you first complained about: Those were his friends, not yours. You already knew you were probably going to be left out and it will just turn boring super quickly. Although Jude's spanish wasn't great, he at least knew some. Also, you were so sure she was going to be there too. Especially when he said there won't be just his spanish friends there.

"Look, they really wanna meet you. All of them." You gave him a weird look, sipping on your water. "You're a liar." What on earth could he have told them about you to make them so interested. There was nothing to you, except the occasional rumors about the relationship between the two of you. You led your own private life and you were happy with it. "Come on, it'll be fun. I swear." You really shouldn't. "If you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave."

"Oh my god, fine."

...

It was just as you had predicted. Your best friend of the night was the host's, Rafael's, dog. The golden retriever was resting his head on your lap while you admired his beautifully soft, golden fur. Every now and then you heard your name in a conversation others were having in spanish, followed by a question stringed out in bad english, about your life and football. The ones who also didn't speak the common language in the house were somehow still incorporated into the conversation. Maybe it was you, maybe it was the fact that you didn't really want to be there and others caught up on that. Or maybe it was because all your attention lied on Jude and Amy, who had been having a conversation for at least 20 minutes in the kitchen now.

You knew you shouldn't sit there and feel sorry for yourself, because it was pathetic and stupid. Why get so worked up because of a boy? You're not his girlfriend, not his situationship, not his talking stage. A right to be jealous of some random girl never existed. Weird feelings brewed in you, like you're going to explode if they don't stop. She's giggling at his jokes, touching his arm in a specific way that made your stomach turn, and he was entertaining all of it.

You were staring for too long, apparently. Long enough for Amy to notice. When her eyes locked onto yours, it's like all the life disappeared out of them. Her expression immediately turned sour, filled with condescension and some type of disgust, you were pretty sure. Quickly, you turned your head away from their direction, rather focusing on the dog laying in your lap. Amy, on the other hand, decided she didn't want you to ever lay your eyes on them together again, taking Jude by the arm and dragging him to god knows where. You didn't notice, you didn't even dare to look back after a few minutes. Your face felt hot, like shame had been written on your forehead with a red sharpie.

"Here, I made this for you. You kind of look like you need it." Said a girl who suddenly popped up next to you on the couch. Most other people have started lounging around outside, so it had quieted down significantly. In her hand was a drink and first you thought about taking it twice, since she was a stranger and all. "Take it. It's not poisoned or anything." So you did.

The girl introduced herself as Mirabell, a friend of a friend of someone here you didn't know. But she knew you.

"You're Judes Girlfriend.. right?" Mirabell asked very carefully, like she was dreading the answer to the question already. "What? Oh, no. We're best friends." Your response made her sigh relief and laugh, lightly hitting your shoulder. "Jesus! Thank god you are. I really didn't want to explain how he had taken off with Amy. Like, you know, as if he was cheating. But he isn't! Because you're not a couple!" At this point you were pretty sure she shouldn't drink any more alcohol.

Mirabell turned out to be very nice and funny, and finally someone who was willing to have a normal conversation with you. She was also the one who dragged you outside, after you got tipsy enough to not be so shy anymore, and properly introduced you to her friends. After literal hours, you felt like you at least had a right to be here.

At some point, it was just you again, leaning over the railing of the balcony and watching the small cars drive by on the streets beneath you. The alcohol flowing through your veins made it feel like you were way higher up than you actually were, making you grip the metal under your fingers like you'd fall if you didn't. You let your eyes sheepishly wander over the scenery in front of you, taking in the cold breeze of the night that came like blessing in the usual warm weather. It was so peaceful and quiet, with no one bothering you. It almost made you forget all your worries. Almost.

You were promptly ripped out of your thoughts when you heard the balcony door slide open and someone step out. "You okay?" A familiar voice rang through your ears, and thankfully you weren't quite drunk enough to not recognize who it was. "Yeah, don't worry about me." You replied to Jude's question, turning around to face him. He had a small smile on his face while eyeing you up and down.

"Come on, let's go."

"Wait, why?"

"I didn't get to spend time with you at all. And, I'm sorry for that. Let's go back home and maybe we can get something to eat on the way?"

Your interest was piqued when you realized he must've actually felt bad leaving you all alone to go with this... girl. After a moment of pondering, you agreed and let him drag you through the apartment by your hand, obviously planning to make an irish exit.

"Jude wait! Where are you going?" Oh great. You could've recognized that voice from anywhere. Embarrasingly so. It was just that you had to watch every one of her Reels to check if there was actually nothing wrong with her. And sadly, maybe sadly, her content was actually quite enjoyable. Amy yanked at his arm, the one with which he was still holding you hand, making him let go of you. You quickly whipped your head around, giving her a look like she had just insulted your mother with that gesture, but Amy didn't seem like she even cared enough to look your way.

"We're going home?" Jude replied in a matter-of-factly way, making Amy giggle nervously. "But why? I thought.. you know, I'd come over later. Why are you taking her with you?" Her eyes first dropped down to your shoes, than your shorts and top and finally your face. That short moment alone made you feel so small in her presence alone, especially when she looked at you like you were an alien. You didn't even know women could hate other women this much. She didn't even know you.

Jude, while being a man, didn't let that go as unnoticed as the blonde probably would've liked, and removed his arm from her grip. "She's literally staying with me. Didn't I explain that to you?" Amy tried playing it off again with a laugh and apologized.

After a bit of small talk, where she interrogated you about your friendship with Jude, while he was getting your jackets, you were finally out of there. Amy's words stung more than you liked to admit. Even if you didn't have a crush on Jude, even if you weren't jealous of her, no one wants to hear that. And even if with the confidence given by the couple of drinks you had, you still couldn't stand up for yourself. Reason number one billion why you felt so pathetic.

...

"Sooo, did you still have fun without me? I know, hard to imagine you can, right?"

You didn't say anything.

"That was a joke."

"I know it was. And I did."

He didn't say anything.

"Yes I did too! Thank you for asking!"

"Sorry."

The whole car ride back to Jude's place felt off and awkward. He wasn't stupid. He knew why. Maybe not to the extend where he could come to the conclusion that you liked him, but he knew it was something about Amy.

Seeing you so slumped in your car seat made him knit his eyebrows together. It was like a war was going on inside of him: Did he like you... or did he like her? He's 21 and can't even figure his love life out. This felt like some highschool bullshit that he really didn't want to to deal with anymore.

In the next couple of days, he tried not to bring Amy up again. He used to, in some conversations at least or he'd even ask you what you think her favorite flowers were, or what kind of jewelry would fit her aesthetic. Jude thought you were just sensitive to the topic because you were jealous she got more attention than you did. Did you really think a man would be smart enough to realize any of his mistakes here?

Two nights later, you were on the phone with your girl best friend back at home, Alicia. You had already cried your heart out to her in the past, complaining about how Jude was giving you such mixed signals and then pretended like nothing happened the next day. "Girl, I'm being serious. You have to set things straight or else it'll tear you apart." She said, sounding tired and concerned. You hated bothering her so much with your stupid problems that actually had an easy fix.

"Oh my fucking god," You mumbled to yourself, half asleep, half still focusing on the chat with Mirabell. It was way too late to function correctly, but when your new friend texted you 20 minutes ago with an invitation to go to the club with her, you woke up a little again. Should you come along? Maybe you'd meet someone to get your mind off if him.

You sighed and texted her back: "Yeah, sounds great!"

...

Carefully, you walked down the stairs in your heels, already regretting your decision to wear them. Jude was waiting for you at the front door, focused on his phone while his fingers tapped away at the screen. He looked good. Too good for your liking. With his shirt buttoned down a bit, shorts hanging low and sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, you could think he was doing it on purpose. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor made him lift his head in your direction and grin.

"Woah," Jude chuckled, feigning shock at how good you looked. "You look.. amazing tonight. Who are you trying to impress?" That line alone proved to you that he was an idiot. A complete idiot you've been wasting you time on. On the other hand, you would be lying if you said his compliments didn't make your heart flutter. It was so odd: Jude looked at you like you were the light of his life, gave you compliments like you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, yet he'll still immediately turn his back on you when he spots Amy at the club. "Thank you."

You tried to pretend like everything was normal, engaging in your usual banter while on the way to the spot y'all had agreed to meet up at. It was hard to ignore your feelings, not only for him but about this situation as a whole. In your mind, you were overreacting or even exaggerating your own problems to justify feeling bad for yourself. These were your last three days in Spain and you also just felt awful treating Jude in a way he didn't deserve, since he didn't really do anything wrong.

The feelings of shame and anger, mixed with a fun group of people, music and alcohol was calling for a disaster. Immediately after getting together with the group, you shifted your focus on Mirabell and other people, just to save yourself from the venomous looks Amy gave you.

You definitely had your fun getting to know new people, drinking and vibing to the music. Rafael, the guy from a few days ago, was very obviously hitting on you and was great at making you feel comfortable around him.

Maybe a little too comfortable.

Seeing Amy basically sit on Jude's lap in the booth next to you made all the feelings you've been bottling up the past week spill over. Right when Rafael took you to the bar to get a new drink, he noticed how your mood had dropped. And after asking if everything's okay, you couldn't hold it in anymore. While you didn't cry, you did complain about the situation quite a bit, very emotionally.

"Yeah, I kinda knew he was an asshole," Rafael said while looking down at you. You were leaning against the wall next to the emergency exit, where things were a little quieter than at your booth. "I know that now, too." You didn't know if the last Lemon Drop you had was making you feel like you were going to throw up or if the situation just upset you this much.

You wished you didn't care for it. You wished you were nonchalant enough to let these last few days pass over and then crash out when you're back home. But you weren't and you won't. Rafael, while only really knowing you for two hours, tried his best to comfort you.

What you didn't see was how Jude eventually approached you guys out of nowhere, seemingly annoyed 'catching' you with one of his good friends. It wasn't for that reason that he came up to you, though: "Hey.." He slightly yelled over the volume of the music. You could feel the bass boost in your whole body. Jude looked at Rafael and then back to you, confused, irritated maybe, but it also seemed like he was in a hurry. "What?" Rafael responded back, doing you a favor of speaking for you when you clearly couldn't. "Is she okay? I just want to talk to her." The Spaniard in front of you gestures Jude to come closer in an annoyed manner, because he couldn't hear him. After repeating himself for like three times, which Rafael was making him do on purpose given his smirk, Jude just gave up and leaned to you.

"I... Me and Amy are gonna leave and walk around in the city for a bit. Do you need me to drive you back?"

"I'll take her back to yours."

Jude shot his friend a glare, but you just agreed with Rafael. The look they gave each other was enough to kill.

"Go. That girl is waiting for you, isn't she?"

Rafael gestured to Amy who was just standing a few meters away. That stupid grin on her face made your blood boil.

...

What was up with you? Jude couldn't make a single thing out. The past week you've been acting so strange and he missed you. Missed the old you. He thought that might be corny, since this is probably something easily fixable, but he couldn't help thinking that way. What had upset you so much? Why did his own friend seem so annoyed with him?

Amy and Jude were strolling alongside a river and she kept pretending she was almost too drunk to walk, purposefully falling over to grip his arm. She was talking about some thing her girl friends did without her — Like a brunch or something. He didn't really care and didn't make the effort to at least look like he was interested. His thoughts lied on you and if Rafael really took you back home. What if he didn't? What if you liked him enough to go back to his place? What would he do if one of his friends would be interested in you? What would he—

"Jude!" Amy snapped her fingers in his face to get him out of his trance. "God, what is up with you? Is your alcohol tolerance that low?" She was clearly joking, but Jude didn't laugh alongside her. He made a comment about how she should never even dare to snap her fingers at him like that again and that he's seen her do it multiple times now. "That's serious not okay." Jude said, "people around you aren't dogs."

Only silence followed that.

Suddenly, after he kind of destroyed the mood, Amy seemed to be able to walk just fine on her own. It made Jude scoff.

"Don't tell me you're seriously thinking about her." Her tone was so foul, it gave Jude goosebumps. "Seriously! Oh my god, you can't be serious!" She raised her voice, "She? Her? That girl? Are you serious?" Up until this point none of the two had even talked about you for one second. That Amy immediately knew what Jude was thinking about made him think.

"Amy," Jude stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her back by her hand as she tries to keep walking. "What the fuck is your problem?" Now his tone was bitter. Ever since the two of them got to know each other, there always seemed to be a certain dislike towards you from Amy and he really didn't understand why. How could anyone hate you? Ever?

"What? In general or with her?" Amy tried making light out of the situation again, laughing like he just made one of his stupid jokes again. Was it insecurity? Did you make her feel insecure? The longer Jude looked at her, the less he understood his own actions. His feelings? his decisions, his past.. they don't lead to her. Nowhere even near her. What the fuck was his problem?

"You are.. you are so selfish. Do you know that? Actually, I think your just mean," Jude took a deep breath, "You're miserable, is that it? I don't have another explanation for your behavior around other women. She's my best friend and you've only ever talked crap about her." Amy's face didn't drop in the slightest. No, it seemed like has been preparing for the conversation.

"What are you yelling at me for? She's the one cockblocking you from every other girl you meet!" The two were lucky no one else was on the same small path as them right now. The river seemed to absorb their yelling with it's sounds. "You take her everywhere you go. I don't get it! She's the definition of mid! Mid tier! Has done nothing successful in her life! Jude, please, she's just using you for fame."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jude looked at Amy like she just said the most outrageous thing in the world. To him, she did. "You know what?" Without raising his voice any more, Jude did a 180 and walked away from her, the frustration visible in his steps.

"Wait! No, Jude! Where are you going?"

...

With how fast Jude arrived back home, you could've thought someone died or something. Treating Madrid like a Mario Kart Track, he raced home in under five minutes and was now fiddling around in his pockets to find his keys. Jude was cursing himself, because he understood now. He finally understood and he felt so stupid.

He sighed with relief when he saw you had parked your heels right at the door when he stepped inside. The TV in the living room was on, but when he called out your name, it didn't seem like you were there.

Jude assumed you were upstairs in your— The guest room, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the lights through the small crack at the bottom of the door. He knocked, gently, and said your name: "I know you're in there.. Please tell me you're in there." Why wouldn't you be? You had no where else to go.

"I'm so sorry."

No reaction.

"Please talk to me".

No reaction.

Jude sighed.

"I'm stupid. And an asshole and a bastard and I know I messed up. Please, yell at me, insult me, do literally anything!"

Inside your room, you were trying to tune him out. You were laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling with your eyebrows knitted together and your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't feel like crying, surprisingly. You thought, when this moment finally comes, you'd fold in a millisecond and pour your heart out to Jude, but no.

After a moment, your feelings did end up betraying you felt the lump in your throat get more painful by the second. You heard a sound from just outside your door — Jude had sat down on the floor, resting his back against the doorframe.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm— That's all I can say."

Why is he making this so damn difficult for you?

"I'll sit here until you want to talk, okay? I'll sit here all night if I have to."

Yeah, safe to say both of you wouldn't be sleeping that night.

[gothicfied]

[gothicfied]

“how do you write again after a long break?” you just start. that’s the horror of it. you just. start. and then the story opens its eyes.

[gothicfied]

THE DEVIL IN YOUR EYES WON'T DENY THE LIES

(read part 2 here)

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader, best friends to ???

Summary: Even though it seems like Jude and you were always destined to be with each other, he wouldn't realize it until someone said it directly to his face. After months on plotting on your best friend, who drops hints here and there even if he didn't want to, he is now suddenly rumored to be mingling with another girl. She can't stand your guts and she'll make sure you know that.

Word Count: ~6.5k

Reading Time: ~26 minutes

Warnings: Mentions of drinking alcohol, Jude is kinda an asshole but not really, girl on girl hate, reader is struggling with her feelings for 99% of the time, Jude's stupid and proves himself to be stupid multiple times, mutual pining (if you squint), no happy ending/it's an open ending, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: omg seriously, I don't know what possessed me to do this. This is unnecessarily long and tbh I've never written a fanfic this long before. This took like a week and I think you can notice that in the way my quality of writing deteriorates LMAOOO sorry, the ending fell a bit flat, but I just didn't have the motivation anymore, especially after the literal DEVASTATING news of Lukita leaving the club????This calls for a part 2 tho, but only if it's really wanted this time. Title are lyrics from "back to friends" by sombr lolololol

It wasn't always easy being linked to one of the most popular footballers in the world. Even if the public was hit in the face with the fact that you and Jude were just friends, they wouldn't get it. And, it wasn't even like you guys never clarified it. In every interview, the footballer was asked at least once or twice about you and you couldn't even post an instagram story without people flooding your DM's with questions like:

"are you Jude's girlfriend???"

"can you guys just make it public?"

"you know it's legal, right?"

You and Jude. Well, you go way back. Okay, however far 'way back' goes with only 21 years of age. You had transferred schools in 6th grade and while everyone kind of ignored you on your first day, Jude didn't. He sat next to you in class, did group projects with you when no one else seemed to want to partner up with you, ate lunch with you when the only two friends you had were sick or just not in school... there were a lot of things he did out of pure kindness and platonic love that helped you through middle school. It wasn't like you were bullied or purposefully left out, it just seemed like you were to unnoticeable.

The two of you were inseparable by the time highschool started. Jude was doing the most with his talent in football and you were always right there cheering him on. His family loved you, your family loved him, it was almost like a future together was already carved out for you. You'd comfort him after a horrible loss, Jude would stay up hours just to study with you in your worst subject, and the both of you would sometimes sneak out to the park on random summer nights to stargaze. That's where the heavy stuff was shared.

"You have no idea.. I feel so secondary to my sister." You complained after your parents forgot one of your hockey games again, just because your younger sister had this math exam she so desperately needed to study for, with both mom and dad. Bullshit. She knew she was good enough and yet she still threw a fuss, just to annoy you. That's the kind of person she was: an attention seeker. "Shut up," Jude barked back, but there was no actually bite to his words, "you're not secondary to anyone! I'm being serious, your parents and sister are the problem. Not you." He slowly turned his gaze away from the night sky, stars shining as bright as they could in the light pollution of the city. "I'm just... Thank you for being there. Even if we didn't win." You also turned your head in his direction and met his eyes, ones so pretty you thought you were going to choke on your own spit. "You're always there for me, too. I'd be stupid if I missed your games!"

The first very big change came with Jude's transfer to Borussia Dortmund. Really, Germany?

You cried, and cried.. and cried some more when the day finally came where he had to move, to pursue is dreams. Sure, they were mostly tears of sadness and frustration and maybe you were a little mad at him, but you couldn't deny the proud feeling you had when you saw his debut. Jude in this big stadium with an even bigger fanbase cheering him on felt so right. He deserved it all, because you knew how much sweat, blood and tears were already invested into his football career.

But don't think he had forgotten about you! Anytime you could because of school and stuff, Jude would fly you out to his games. Proudly, you wore the last name 'Bellingham' on the back of your jersey, which always fell quite a bit too big on you. The footballer insisted on giving you his shirts after a game.. That just meant you had to wash the god damn thing four or five times to get all the sweat and the smell of grass out of it. Denise, Jude's mom, thought it was the cutest thing ever, always taking pictures of you whenever you attended a game with her.

Truth be told, Denise was more of a mom to you than your own parents. As the oldest, you felt left out and ignored by your parents because of your sister anyway, but when your baby brother was born, it was like you didn't exist for them anymore. Then, it kind of turned into a tradition for you to spend days like New Years at Jude's house. His father, Mark, helped you with your Uni applications and Jobe, his younger brother, had always treated you like family anyway.

It didn't come to a suprise that they'd take you on vacation, too. One time, there was a mix up with the rooms and, no matter how much Mark and Denise begged Jobe to just share the room with his older brother for a few days until things got sorted out, he flat out refused. "No! He's messy, leaves his clothes everywhere and kicks me in his sleep! I'm not doing that again."

Now that you were sharing the hotel room with Jude, you started to wonder how this shit would mess with your feelings about him. Yeah.. you may or may not have developed a slight crush on your best friend in the last couple of months, fueled by the tiktoks people made about the two of you. Jude was obviously not ashamed to post you in his story whenever you were together, apparently giving people the impression that there was something more going on. Oh, you wished it was like that.

You were sharing a bed. It was very late at night and all you could think about was one Insta gossip page posting about yours and Jude friendship... relationship? It was on your feed, it's not like you intentionally searched for it! You were quickly ripped from your thoughts when you felt a large hand slide over your stomach and pull you closer as soon as the half-awake Jude realized it was you that he grabbed and not a pillow. After that, he went right back to snoring. No shot he'd remeber doing this the morning after, but you were just giggling to yourself now. He likes you... he just has to!

The whole sharing-a-room-on-vacation thing became a tradition, too. You obviously didn't mind it, Jude didn't either. Whenever he thought you were sleeping, which you sometimes even were, he'd carefully put his arms around your neck or waist or anything and hold you close until he fell asleep himself. Then, the next morning, he'd act as if he was just as suprised as you at the way you both were tangled up in bed.

It also became your reality when he transferred to Real Madrid. Wow, Spain. This was it. Hopefully his club forever, since you were a big fan, too. Jude's debut there was nothing short of breathtaking, and skipping Uni to come down to Spain was all worth it — Especially for the hug he gave you after he sought you out in the tunnel. He ran to you like a little child to his mother, picked you up and spun you around while all you could do was squeal and laugh. You couldn't even try to pry yourself from his grip, not that you wanted to anyway. The post match interview was surely interesting.

"And, tell us, who's your biggest supporter outside your family? Probably the girl you've been taking with you everywhere you go, huh?" The interviewer of some sport programm you didn't know asked Jude, to which he just laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, yes! Her, of course.. who else?" He looked nervous when answering that question. And he was, definitely in that moment, because he felt like the whole world was watching him trying to not make it obvious that he had a huge thing for you. "Girlfriend?" The interviewer asked again, to which he shook his head: "Oh, nooo... I love her, you know, but we're best friends. Not.. Not together."

This brings you to now. Laying in the bed of the guestroom in his huge house in Madrid. It's summer and even the nights here have you sweating like no tomorrow. Not only that, but you can't sleep. You stare at your phone with your instagram feed open, a picture of you and Jude plasted right on the screen with the all-too-well-known 'Owkayy' starting the rampage this WAG fan account was always on. It's a picture of the both of you right after Real Madrid won the Champions League just a little over a month ago, with Jude staring down at you like he was dying to kiss you. Next slide was a picture of you comforting him after the loss against Spain in the EUROs just like two weeks ago. You'll never escape the rumors.

Everyone and their mom was convinced you belonged to each other. And, that thought made you so happy, you could even overlook the threats his fan girls sent you in your DMs. Who cares what they think, right? Everybody on the planet thinks you'll be with him!

There was this one other thing, though. Because obviously, you couldn't even have one thing to yourself in your life.

This influencer from the States, Amy or whatever her name was, you didn't really care enough to look, has been linked to Jude more often than you wanted.

Truth is, obviously you cared enough to look. Amy Samuels, 25 years old, beauty influencer, lives in New York, has two brothers and a step-sister, models in her spare time... She was everything you're not.

She was this beautiful blonde girl with the most piercing green eyes you had ever seen, her makeup always looked flawless and worst of all, she seemed down to earth. You thought maybe she was one of those unlikable, snobby instagram models slash influencers slash entrepreneurs, but no. She was a family person, had a cute dog she always posts picrures of and actually did her job pretty well.

You knew better than to let yourself get fooled by the image she puts up on social media, but her smile made it hard to forget that she seemed to be absolutely perfect. How Amy and Jude even got to know each other personally, you don't know. It must've happened over last summer or something, the time where you couldn't come to visit him, but had to stay home because of school stuff. And well, frankly because your life revolves around more than just Jude Bellingham.

There's countless of instagram stories she uploded with the same location tagged at the same time when he was there. One location in particular, you recognized right away: His bathroom. Not the bathroom of the guestroom, or the normal one out on the hallway, no. His. Bathroom. It made your blood boil. But why? In the end, isn't it your own fault for not telling him about your feelings sooner? On the other hand, he's been leading you on. You were so convinced you guys were soulmates, practically made for each other.

The emotional bond between you seemed to never loosen, no matter what you guys were put through. There were times where your friendship was definitely tested: that one toxic ex boyfriend you had in 11th grade, who absolutely refused to let you be friends with any male. When you tried to explain that to Jude, he was ready to go beat that guy up. He'd never tell you how relieved he was when you showed up crying at his doorstep, because you finally gathered the courage to break up with him.

"I feel.. I feel like—" You paused and sniffled hard, tears streaming down your face and there was nothing Jude could do to stop it. "such an idiot." To say he was startled to have you text him so late at night, asking if he was still awake because you really, really, really needed him right now was an understatement. But, thankfully he managed to smuggle you into his room without waking anyone in the house. Now you're just sitting on his bed, pouring your heart out about everything your now-ex had done to you in the last few months. Jude held you close, extremely close that night. After about an hour of violently crying into his chest, you had falled asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. The boy was wide awake, though, and surely didn't get any sleep at all. He cradled your face to his chest, his fingers gently threading through your hair to calm you down whenever you'd slightly stirr awake again. He felt so many emotions in that moment, mostly because he always thought he was the worst at comforting people, but you seemed to feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. That's what counted to Jude.

You were there when Dortmund lost in the UCL final to comfort him when he cried on your shoulder after getting in the car. The whole car ride long, you held his hand, telling him how good he played regardless and that the trophy is going to be his next season. Jude didn't reply. He stared out of the window, but you didn't mind. Back in the hotel room, he hugged you for what felt like an eternity, thanked you and kissed you on your forehead. Yeah, you guys have been through the worst.

Jude took you to any award ceremony as his plus one. For the longest time, a picture of the two of you on the night he won The Golden Boy Award was his lockscreen. And now? He's going to throw that away. His obvious feelings for you. He's not going to stop you whenever you kiss him on the cheek, hold his hand, sleep in the same bed as him. He won't correct himself when other people refer to you as his girlfriend and he'll laugh along whenever his parents call you their 'daughter-in-law'.

Oh, what a fucking asshole he is.

You think back to the time where Jude told you about a 'new acquaintance' he made while on a trip in New York. He'd talk about Amy from time to time, naming her a friend of his and sometimes you'd even see her at functions or parties or when going out with his friends. Somehow, she was always there. You never really thought anything of it, until those Instagram stories started to pop up and new rumors about Jude's dating life started to bubble. Suddenly, everyone around you was asking the same thing: 'Aren't you guys together?'

...

You woke up just as cranky as when you fell asleep with your phone in hand, the clock on the wall ticking being the only sound that filled the room. Denise was out of the country, just to visit Jobe for an exchange and to 'leave the house for you and Jude' wink, wink. God, how was it already this warm outside? August in Spain was no joke. You woke up sweating and you went to bed sweating, no matter how much deodorant you put on or if you showered like three times.

It was already 11am when you stepped out of the shower and brushed through your wet hair to let it air dry. You haven't heard a single peep from Jude yet, but maybe he was just letting you sleep in.

Your suspicions were proven to be true, when you made your way downstairs to find him making breakfast. The sound of your bare feet against the glass steps made Jude cock his head in your direction, smiling sweetly when getting a glimpse of you. "Thought you died up there, not gonna lie." He chuckled, but you were really not in the mood for it right now. Instead, you just groaned in slight annoyance and sat down on the couch, which was right in front of the open kitchen.

"Okay.." Jude came up to you, plate in hand. It was an attempt at making you your favorite bagel, which he's been trying to get right ever since you came back from your vacation in the US, craving it.

"Not funny?"

"No?"

"What's up with you today?"

"I just— Didn't sleep well, that's all."

After you took the plate out of his hand, Jude sat down next to you, stretching like he had just worked a 12-hour-shift just to sneakily put his arm around your shoulders. You were wearing one of his jerseys, but he still 'had' to push your hair to the front to check if it was his last name on your back. "It looks really good on you, you know?" Whatever you might've seen last night, no matter how mad you were at him or how frustrated you were with your feelings, that comment made you smile. You really tried not to, you tried looking away and pretend like the pool outside was more interesting than this conversation, but of course, Jude picked up on that. "I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah..." You rolled your eyes, "Thank you."

While you guys were having breakfast, Jude mentioned some party one of his new friends here in Madrid were throwing, even though he said it was more like a hangout with friends than an occasion to get super drunk. He obviously wanted you to come with, to which you first complained about: Those were his friends, not yours. You already knew you were probably going to be left out and it will just turn boring super quickly. Although Jude's spanish wasn't great, he at least knew some. Also, you were so sure she was going to be there too. Especially when he said there won't be just his spanish friends there.

"Look, they really wanna meet you. All of them." You gave him a weird look, sipping on your water. "You're a liar." What on earth could he have told them about you to make them so interested. There was nothing to you, except the occasional rumors about the relationship between the two of you. You led your own private life and you were happy with it. "Come on, it'll be fun. I swear." You really shouldn't. "If you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave."

"Oh my god, fine."

...

It was just as you had predicted. Your best friend of the night was the host's, Rafael's, dog. The golden retriever was resting his head on your lap while you admired his beautifully soft, golden fur. Every now and then you heard your name in a conversation others were having in spanish, followed by a question stringed out in bad english, about your life and football. The ones who also didn't speak the common language in the house were somehow still incorporated into the conversation. Maybe it was you, maybe it was the fact that you didn't really want to be there and others caught up on that. Or maybe it was because all your attention lied on Jude and Amy, who had been having a conversation for at least 20 minutes in the kitchen now.

You knew you shouldn't sit there and feel sorry for yourself, because it was pathetic and stupid. Why get so worked up because of a boy? You're not his girlfriend, not his situationship, not his talking stage. A right to be jealous of some random girl never existed. Weird feelings brewed in you, like you're going to explode if they don't stop. She's giggling at his jokes, touching his arm in a specific way that made your stomach turn, and he was entertaining all of it.

You were staring for too long, apparently. Long enough for Amy to notice. When her eyes locked onto yours, it's like all the life disappeared out of them. Her expression immediately turned sour, filled with condescension and some type of disgust, you were pretty sure. Quickly, you turned your head away from their direction, rather focusing on the dog laying in your lap. Amy, on the other hand, decided she didn't want you to ever lay your eyes on them together again, taking Jude by the arm and dragging him to god knows where. You didn't notice, you didn't even dare to look back after a few minutes. Your face felt hot, like shame had been written on your forehead with a red sharpie.

"Here, I made this for you. You kind of look like you need it." Said a girl who suddenly popped up next to you on the couch. Most other people have started lounging around outside, so it had quieted down significantly. In her hand was a drink and first you thought about taking it twice, since she was a stranger and all. "Take it. It's not poisoned or anything." So you did.

The girl introduced herself as Mirabell, a friend of a friend of someone here you didn't know. But she knew you.

"You're Judes Girlfriend.. right?" Mirabell asked very carefully, like she was dreading the answer to the question already. "What? Oh, no. We're best friends." Your response made her sigh relief and laugh, lightly hitting your shoulder. "Jesus! Thank god you are. I really didn't want to explain how he had taken off with Amy. Like, you know, as if he was cheating. But he isn't! Because you're not a couple!" At this point you were pretty sure she shouldn't drink any more alcohol.

Mirabell turned out to be very nice and funny, and finally someone who was willing to have a normal conversation with you. She was also the one who dragged you outside, after you got tipsy enough to not be so shy anymore, and properly introduced you to her friends. After literal hours, you felt like you at least had a right to be here.

At some point, it was just you again, leaning over the railing of the balcony and watching the small cars drive by on the streets beneath you. The alcohol flowing through your veins made it feel like you were way higher up than you actually were, making you grip the metal under your fingers like you'd fall if you didn't. You let your eyes sheepishly wander over the scenery in front of you, taking in the cold breeze of the night that came like blessing in the usual warm weather. It was so peaceful and quiet, with no one bothering you. It almost made you forget all your worries. Almost.

You were promptly ripped out of your thoughts when you heard the balcony door slide open and someone step out. "You okay?" A familiar voice rang through your ears, and thankfully you weren't quite drunk enough to not recognize who it was. "Yeah, don't worry about me." You replied to Jude's question, turning around to face him. He had a small smile on his face while eyeing you up and down.

"Come on, let's go."

"Wait, why?"

"I didn't get to spend time with you at all. And, I'm sorry for that. Let's go back home and maybe we can get something to eat on the way?"

Your interest was piqued when you realized he must've actually felt bad leaving you all alone to go with this... girl. After a moment of pondering, you agreed and let him drag you through the apartment by your hand, obviously planning to make an irish exit.

"Jude wait! Where are you going?" Oh great. You could've recognized that voice from anywhere. Embarrasingly so. It was just that you had to watch every one of her Reels to check if there was actually nothing wrong with her. And sadly, maybe sadly, her content was actually quite enjoyable. Amy yanked at his arm, the one with which he was still holding you hand, making him let go of you. You quickly whipped your head around, giving her a look like she had just insulted your mother with that gesture, but Amy didn't seem like she even cared enough to look your way.

"We're going home?" Jude replied in a matter-of-factly way, making Amy giggle nervously. "But why? I thought.. you know, I'd come over later. Why are you taking her with you?" Her eyes first dropped down to your shoes, than your shorts and top and finally your face. That short moment alone made you feel so small in her presence alone, especially when she looked at you like you were an alien. You didn't even know women could hate other women this much. She didn't even know you.

Jude, while being a man, didn't let that go as unnoticed as the blonde probably would've liked, and removed his arm from her grip. "She's literally staying with me. Didn't I explain that to you?" Amy tried playing it off again with a laugh and apologized.

After a bit of small talk, where she interrogated you about your friendship with Jude, while he was getting your jackets, you were finally out of there. Amy's words stung more than you liked to admit. Even if you didn't have a crush on Jude, even if you weren't jealous of her, no one wants to hear that. And even if with the confidence given by the couple of drinks you had, you still couldn't stand up for yourself. Reason number one billion why you felt so pathetic.

...

"Sooo, did you still have fun without me? I know, hard to imagine you can, right?"

You didn't say anything.

"That was a joke."

"I know it was. And I did."

He didn't say anything.

"Yes I did too! Thank you for asking!"

"Sorry."

The whole car ride back to Jude's place felt off and awkward. He wasn't stupid. He knew why. Maybe not to the extend where he could come to the conclusion that you liked him, but he knew it was something about Amy.

Seeing you so slumped in your car seat made him knit his eyebrows together. It was like a war was going on inside of him: Did he like you... or did he like her? He's 21 and can't even figure his love life out. This felt like some highschool bullshit that he really didn't want to to deal with anymore.

In the next couple of days, he tried not to bring Amy up again. He used to, in some conversations at least or he'd even ask you what you think her favorite flowers were, or what kind of jewelry would fit her aesthetic. Jude thought you were just sensitive to the topic because you were jealous she got more attention than you did. Did you really think a man would be smart enough to realize any of his mistakes here?

Two nights later, you were on the phone with your girl best friend back at home, Alicia. You had already cried your heart out to her in the past, complaining about how Jude was giving you such mixed signals and then pretended like nothing happened the next day. "Girl, I'm being serious. You have to set things straight or else it'll tear you apart." She said, sounding tired and concerned. You hated bothering her so much with your stupid problems that actually had an easy fix.

"Oh my fucking god," You mumbled to yourself, half asleep, half still focusing on the chat with Mirabell. It was way too late to function correctly, but when your new friend texted you 20 minutes ago with an invitation to go to the club with her, you woke up a little again. Should you come along? Maybe you'd meet someone to get your mind off if him.

You sighed and texted her back: "Yeah, sounds great!"

...

Carefully, you walked down the stairs in your heels, already regretting your decision to wear them. Jude was waiting for you at the front door, focused on his phone while his fingers tapped away at the screen. He looked good. Too good for your liking. With his shirt buttoned down a bit, shorts hanging low and sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, you could think he was doing it on purpose. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor made him lift his head in your direction and grin.

"Woah," Jude chuckled, feigning shock at how good you looked. "You look.. amazing tonight. Who are you trying to impress?" That line alone proved to you that he was an idiot. A complete idiot you've been wasting you time on. On the other hand, you would be lying if you said his compliments didn't make your heart flutter. It was so odd: Jude looked at you like you were the light of his life, gave you compliments like you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, yet he'll still immediately turn his back on you when he spots Amy at the club. "Thank you."

You tried to pretend like everything was normal, engaging in your usual banter while on the way to the spot y'all had agreed to meet up at. It was hard to ignore your feelings, not only for him but about this situation as a whole. In your mind, you were overreacting or even exaggerating your own problems to justify feeling bad for yourself. These were your last three days in Spain and you also just felt awful treating Jude in a way he didn't deserve, since he didn't really do anything wrong.

The feelings of shame and anger, mixed with a fun group of people, music and alcohol was calling for a disaster. Immediately after getting together with the group, you shifted your focus on Mirabell and other people, just to save yourself from the venomous looks Amy gave you.

You definitely had your fun getting to know new people, drinking and vibing to the music. Rafael, the guy from a few days ago, was very obviously hitting on you and was great at making you feel comfortable around him.

Maybe a little too comfortable.

Seeing Amy basically sit on Jude's lap in the booth next to you made all the feelings you've been bottling up the past week spill over. Right when Rafael took you to the bar to get a new drink, he noticed how your mood had dropped. And after asking if everything's okay, you couldn't hold it in anymore. While you didn't cry, you did complain about the situation quite a bit, very emotionally.

"Yeah, I kinda knew he was an asshole," Rafael said while looking down at you. You were leaning against the wall next to the emergency exit, where things were a little quieter than at your booth. "I know that now, too." You didn't know if the last Lemon Drop you had was making you feel like you were going to throw up or if the situation just upset you this much.

You wished you didn't care for it. You wished you were nonchalant enough to let these last few days pass over and then crash out when you're back home. But you weren't and you won't. Rafael, while only really knowing you for two hours, tried his best to comfort you.

What you didn't see was how Jude eventually approached you guys out of nowhere, seemingly annoyed 'catching' you with one of his good friends. It wasn't for that reason that he came up to you, though: "Hey.." He slightly yelled over the volume of the music. You could feel the bass boost in your whole body. Jude looked at Rafael and then back to you, confused, irritated maybe, but it also seemed like he was in a hurry. "What?" Rafael responded back, doing you a favor of speaking for you when you clearly couldn't. "Is she okay? I just want to talk to her." The Spaniard in front of you gestures Jude to come closer in an annoyed manner, because he couldn't hear him. After repeating himself for like three times, which Rafael was making him do on purpose given his smirk, Jude just gave up and leaned to you.

"I... Me and Amy are gonna leave and walk around in the city for a bit. Do you need me to drive you back?"

"I'll take her back to yours."

Jude shot his friend a glare, but you just agreed with Rafael. The look they gave each other was enough to kill.

"Go. That girl is waiting for you, isn't she?"

Rafael gestured to Amy who was just standing a few meters away. That stupid grin on her face made your blood boil.

...

What was up with you? Jude couldn't make a single thing out. The past week you've been acting so strange and he missed you. Missed the old you. He thought that might be corny, since this is probably something easily fixable, but he couldn't help thinking that way. What had upset you so much? Why did his own friend seem so annoyed with him?

Amy and Jude were strolling alongside a river and she kept pretending she was almost too drunk to walk, purposefully falling over to grip his arm. She was talking about some thing her girl friends did without her — Like a brunch or something. He didn't really care and didn't make the effort to at least look like he was interested. His thoughts lied on you and if Rafael really took you back home. What if he didn't? What if you liked him enough to go back to his place? What would he do if one of his friends would be interested in you? What would he—

"Jude!" Amy snapped her fingers in his face to get him out of his trance. "God, what is up with you? Is your alcohol tolerance that low?" She was clearly joking, but Jude didn't laugh alongside her. He made a comment about how she should never even dare to snap her fingers at him like that again and that he's seen her do it multiple times now. "That's serious not okay." Jude said, "people around you aren't dogs."

Only silence followed that.

Suddenly, after he kind of destroyed the mood, Amy seemed to be able to walk just fine on her own. It made Jude scoff.

"Don't tell me you're seriously thinking about her." Her tone was so foul, it gave Jude goosebumps. "Seriously! Oh my god, you can't be serious!" She raised her voice, "She? Her? That girl? Are you serious?" Up until this point none of the two had even talked about you for one second. That Amy immediately knew what Jude was thinking about made him think.

"Amy," Jude stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her back by her hand as she tries to keep walking. "What the fuck is your problem?" Now his tone was bitter. Ever since the two of them got to know each other, there always seemed to be a certain dislike towards you from Amy and he really didn't understand why. How could anyone hate you? Ever?

"What? In general or with her?" Amy tried making light out of the situation again, laughing like he just made one of his stupid jokes again. Was it insecurity? Did you make her feel insecure? The longer Jude looked at her, the less he understood his own actions. His feelings? his decisions, his past.. they don't lead to her. Nowhere even near her. What the fuck was his problem?

"You are.. you are so selfish. Do you know that? Actually, I think your just mean," Jude took a deep breath, "You're miserable, is that it? I don't have another explanation for your behavior around other women. She's my best friend and you've only ever talked crap about her." Amy's face didn't drop in the slightest. No, it seemed like has been preparing for the conversation.

"What are you yelling at me for? She's the one cockblocking you from every other girl you meet!" The two were lucky no one else was on the same small path as them right now. The river seemed to absorb their yelling with it's sounds. "You take her everywhere you go. I don't get it! She's the definition of mid! Mid tier! Has done nothing successful in her life! Jude, please, she's just using you for fame."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jude looked at Amy like she just said the most outrageous thing in the world. To him, she did. "You know what?" Without raising his voice any more, Jude did a 180 and walked away from her, the frustration visible in his steps.

"Wait! No, Jude! Where are you going?"

...

With how fast Jude arrived back home, you could've thought someone died or something. Treating Madrid like a Mario Kart Track, he raced home in under five minutes and was now fiddling around in his pockets to find his keys. Jude was cursing himself, because he understood now. He finally understood and he felt so stupid.

He sighed with relief when he saw you had parked your heels right at the door when he stepped inside. The TV in the living room was on, but when he called out your name, it didn't seem like you were there.

Jude assumed you were upstairs in your— The guest room, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the lights through the small crack at the bottom of the door. He knocked, gently, and said your name: "I know you're in there.. Please tell me you're in there." Why wouldn't you be? You had no where else to go.

"I'm so sorry."

No reaction.

"Please talk to me".

No reaction.

Jude sighed.

"I'm stupid. And an asshole and a bastard and I know I messed up. Please, yell at me, insult me, do literally anything!"

Inside your room, you were trying to tune him out. You were laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling with your eyebrows knitted together and your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't feel like crying, surprisingly. You thought, when this moment finally comes, you'd fold in a millisecond and pour your heart out to Jude, but no.

After a moment, your feelings did end up betraying you felt the lump in your throat get more painful by the second. You heard a sound from just outside your door — Jude had sat down on the floor, resting his back against the doorframe.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm— That's all I can say."

Why is he making this so damn difficult for you?

"I'll sit here until you want to talk, okay? I'll sit here all night if I have to."

Yeah, safe to say both of you wouldn't be sleeping that night.

[gothicfied]

this is a direct message to real madrid: you do not get to wear kits this sexy and then serve me another season full of defensive horror and quarterfinal exits. pick a struggle.