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odinsblog · 6 months

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“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

#politics #dana ballout #the 95 #palestine #israel #war crimes #gaza #committee to protect journalists #🇵🇸#brahim lafi #shereen abou aql #issam abdullah #ayat hadduro #rushdie sarraj #hassouna saleem #sadi mansour

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afterglowsainz · 4 months

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hi sweetheart !!

can you write like the reader not being popular like jude, like nobody knows her, shes in college while hes a footballer:(( so so cutesy jude wouls probably make her famous AF!!!?

end of the world | jude bellingham

summary: no one knows who jude is dating until her college graduation

fc: candela gallo

a/n: the idea for this came to me in a dream so thanks for requesting it <3

—

📍miami, florida

liked by judebellingham, bffusername and others

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liked by vinijr, camavinga and others

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username SIR BELLINGHAM 😮‍💨

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realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was spotted in miami during spring break with a misterious girl, we still don’t know her name or who she is

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📍madrid, spain

liked by judebellingham, vinijr and others

yourusername i also study guys! (and watch my boyfriend kick a ball for 90 minutes)

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frienduser1 obsessed with your aesthetic

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judebellingham 🤨🤨🤨

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🔒yourusername 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 (liked by judebellingham)

liked by judebellingham, bffusername and others

🔒yourusername long story short, i survived

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bffusername FINALLY A GRADUATE 🦅🦅🦅

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frienduser1 congrats my love! 🎉

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frienduser2 taylor knows mate😔

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judebellingham smartest girl i know! congratulations my love❤️

yourusername you’re making me blush🤭

liked by frienduser1, frienduser2 and others

realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was seen at the universidad complutense de madrid graduation ceremony very close to a mysterious girl, we think it might be the same one he went to miami with

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username okay but the way he’s looking at her??

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liked by yourusername, brahim and others

judebellingham in love with this city🤍

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username ohhh the hard launch is hard launching

username that first pic did things to me😶‍🌫️

username finally we know!!!

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username jude i thought we were faithful to each other😔

username okay but she is GORGEOUS😍

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username 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

yourusername in love with you❤️

judebellingham 🥰🥰

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singstaircase · 5 months

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Can we become we?

Summary: Jude wonders, just what horrible sin he committed to deserve a punishment like this– being 'coached' by his teammates on how to become a husband. Not a good one, certainly not a bad one but just a husband.

contains: fluff, crack, implied unwanted marriage, use of the word 'forced marriage', Harry Kane and Ancelotti make an appearance, marriage of convenience or is it?

*Mina is Valverde's partner, Luz is Brahim's girlfriend, Ana/Anastasia is Lunin's partner, Laura is Rudiger's wife and Vanja is Luka's wife.

“Why is she even married to a man like you?”

“She's kind of forced to, Luka.”

Jude finds himself bewildered as his teammates discuss his marriage, a topic that seems to have spread like wildfire among them.

He tries to interject, emphasizing the temporary nature of his marriage but his words seem to fall on deaf ears.

Even more puzzling is how they got the information that he let his wife return to Madrid alone after the last El Clasico.

He didn't, he tries to clarify multiple times but despite his attempts to explain the situation and reassure them, his teammates just don't seem to listen. Now, he finds himself enduring Luka’s lecture on marriage and marital responsibility.

An hour ago, his teammates were oblivious to his relationship status, and now they are judging him for being an ‘awful’ husband.

Jude can't help feeling this sudden annoyance about Brahim and Luz. This is all their fault, probably.

He rubs his eyes as Fede says something to him and though he nods, he only half-heard what was said.

Amidst the chaos, the players fail to notice Ancelotti's arrival until his voice cuts through the chatter.

“Bellingham,” Jude straightens up instantly hearing his coach's voice and everyone falls silent. “Go invite your wife to the bus.”

With a resigned “Yes coach,” Jude's attempt to maintain authority is overshadowed by his teammates' laughter.

“(Name)?” Jude calls out towards the stands, where Luz and (Name) are chatting. She turns to him and he gestures for her to come over.

“Let's,” he starts, his voice faltering for a moment. The idea of leaving immediately crosses his mind, but (Name)'s reassuring smile stops him in his tracks. It's warm and comforting, urging him to stay.

Instead of fleeing, Jude clears his throat and continues. “Let's go home together.”

“On the bus?” She asks and he nods. Her smile grows slightly, and she responds with a soft ‘alright' before darting back to Luz.

Jude watches as (Name) bids farewell to Luz and later Mina before her way back to him. “Let's go,” she says, adjusting her bag and reaching for his hand.

Jude looks down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, feeling a sensation he can't explain, before nodding and walking towards the bus with his wife.

His wife, (Name). It has a nice ring to it.

“Jude move a little closer to (Name), please.”

The second time Arda tells him to do so, Jude sighs.

It was bad enough that he was being ‘coached’ by his older teammates and their partners on how to become a ‘husband’, they didn't need to involve Arda into this too.

As Jude reluctantly inches closer to (Name), he wishes he didn't look over her shoulder.

Jude has no idea why Antonio, of all people, is now involved in his marriage antics. He suspects it has to do something with Laura, Antonio’s wife, taking a liking to (Name).

Jude recalls Laura and Vanja instructions before the photo shoot and he wonders if this is what Antonio is trying to gesture with his eyes.

Reluctantly, Jude obeys, not wanting Antonio or Mina or anyone's warning glances.

He hesitates for a moment before draping his arm around (Name)’s shoulders, feeling her warmth against him. She smiles at him, and Jude can't help but return the smile.

Later, as Jude looks at the photos, he can't deny thinking that they do look cute together.

Only a little bit, he swears.

As Jude wakes from his sleep, he feels the weight of (Name)’s body against his. They had fallen asleep while watching a movie and now, she lies peacefully on top of him.

It had been Luka and Vanja’s idea to organize a movie night. Jude was hesitant about it then but now, as he gazes down at (Name)’s sleeping figure, a warmth blossoms in his chest.

With a soft smile, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, before drifting back into sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, this marriage thing might not be so bad after all.

“Jude Victor William Bellingham, if you don't ask your wife for a dance in 10 minutes, I am kicking you out of this party.”

“It's not even yours, Mina.”

“Shut up.”

Jude wonders just what bad deeds he did to deserve a friend group like this.

He halts in his steps for the fourth time, glancing back over his shoulder, and sure enough, Mina and Luz are still standing there. Mina’s glare doesn't relent, so Jude sighs and continues walking.

As he reaches the entrance of the dining hall, his eyes land on (Name) sitting alone on a table at the end of the room. She looks around from time to time, probably waiting for Luz.

‘What a fantastic friend Luz is,’ Jude thinks to himself sarcastically, ‘leaving her friend all alone after begging her to come here.’

A small smile finds (Name)’s lips as she catches Jude walking over to her.

Jude could run away now, pretending he never saw her. But something about her hopeful smile makes him reconsider.

Taking a deep breath, Jude approaches (Name) and clears his throat. With a shy smile, he extends his hand, remembering Fede’s advice to at least pretend he's interested.

“Would you like to dance?” (Name)’s eyes light up with surprise and delight. "I'd love to."

When they step onto the dance floor, Jude's nerves start to show.

(Name) laughs at his clumsy attempts to follow her steps, but her laughter is infectious and soon, he finds himself laughing along with her.

She guides Jude through the steps with gentle encouragement. “Just relax and let the music guide you,” she says, her voice soft and reassuring.

As they dance, Jude's nerves start to melt away.

With each step, he feels himself getting more confident. Their laughter blends with the music as he twirls (Name) around the dance floor.

She has a nice smile, Jude thinks to himself.

Jude is starting to feel a little proud over his development as a ‘good partner’ and credit for none of it goes to any of his teammates or their partners, he likes to think.

He sits in his car, feeling a sense of accomplishment for being the one to drop (Name) off at work. It was his idea entirely and he totally didn't take the help of the internet for it.

As he parks in front of her workplace, he turns to her. “I'll pick you up at five,” Jude says, trying to sound confident.

(Name) smiles in response and nods at him. Her smile seems to have an effect on him lately, he can't quite explain why.

But then, something unexpected happened. (Name)’s hand freezes on the handle for a moment, before making her next move.

She turns back to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jude is caught off guard, but he instinctively returns the gesture.

Before he can fully process what just happened, (Name) pulls away and waves goodbye, leaving Jude sitting in the car, feeling dazed yet strangely content.

This felt nice.

Jude If you learned that there's something Katie's wanting for a long time but couldn't manage to get, Would you get it her and would it make a good surprise?

Harry I would and it would. Why are you asking?

Jude So, hypothetically if I had a missus and I was you and my missus was Katie in this scenario, I should get it for her cause it would make a good surprise, right? Hypothetically.

Harry Yes, hypothetically.

Jude Thanks.

Harry You have a missus? Jude?

(Name) isn't sure when was the last time Jude looked this nervous. It's a side of him she doesn't see often, not even during the most high stakes of games.

As she approaches him, she can't help but recall the way he had looked at Vanja's birthday. The same nervous energy seems to radiate from him now.

“What is it?” (Name) asks gently, her smile reassuring Jude, who visibly calms down.

Jude closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. He takes (Name)’s hand and in a swift move, places a small box in her palm.

(Name) looks at him curiously, then starts to open the box. As she lifts the lid, her expression turns to one of shock.

“I um,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I heard from Luz that this is something you've been wanting for a while but the tickets weren't available. So, I…” he trails off, waiting for her response.

When she remains silent, Jude calls her name, growing increasingly worried the longer she stays quiet.

When he calls her name again, (Name) suddenly hugs him, taking Jude by surprise.

His heart races and soon, a smile spreads across his face. He wraps his arms around (Name), feeling their heartbeats syncing.

“Thank you so much Jude,” (Name) whispers into the embrace.

They stand there, held in each other's arms. Reluctantly, (Name) eventually pulls back, a shy but content smile playing on her lips. What she does next stuns him once more.

(Name) gently holds Jude's face and plants a tender kiss on his cheek before leaving the room.

Jude touches the spot where her lips met his cheek. A smile graces his lips as the sound of (Name)'s excited voice reaches his ears from the other room.

He won't mind this happening often.

Luka Did you get a ticket for (Name)?

Jude No.

Luka Why

Jude I don't know?

Mina what does ‘I don't know’ mean?

Jude It means I didn't get one for because I don't know if she likes the band.

Ana you don't know what your own wife likes?

Jude you make me sound like an awful husband, Ana.

Vanja No offence but you sound like one Jude.

Jude Unbelievable. I just remembered, (Name) doesn't even like the band.

Brahim He is lying. Luz says (Name) loves them Luka Jude. Vanja Jude. Mina Jude. Ana Jude.

Jude All of you are going to believe Luz over me??

Mina I mean Luz is her best friend and I don't see why she would lie about something like this

Jude ugh. Fine. I got tickets for her. Happy?

Luka Did you?

Luz He did. (Name)’s been telling me for the last few minutes how happy and excited she is.

Jude She is?

Luz yes, very happy and excited. Good job Jode *Jude 👍

The moment Jude turns to the stairs, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

There (Name) stands, at the top of stairs with Mina, her smile lighting up the room in a way that makes everything else seems dim in comparison.

For a moment, Jude is frozen in place. It's as if time stands still, and he can't help but marvel at her beauty.

He feels a warmth spread through him that he can't quite explain.

Fede, Brahim and Luz, who were joking and laughing just moments ago, fall silent as they see of Jude's reaction.

“Jude, are you alright?” Brahim asks with a teasing grin. Jude can only nod, unable to tear his eyes away from his wife.

“Looks like someone's in love," Luz chimes in with a chuckle."

"Yeah, dude, you're making us look bad with all that romance," adds Brahim and nudges him playfully. “And you are supposed to be the awful one at romance!”

“Wow,” is all he can manage, making (Name)’s smile wider.

Jude finally manages to tear his gaze away from (Name) to glance at his friends, who are all watching him with amused expressions.

"She's just...wow," Jude manages to stammer out.

His friends share knowing looks and teasing smiles before Brahim claps him in the back. "Go on, then. Don't keep her waiting.”

(Name)’s lips curl up as Jude finally gathers himself and makes his way towards her. “Hi,” he manages to get out.

“Hey,” (Name) replies.

After a brief pause, Jude musters up courage. “You look…beautiful,” and before he can stop himself, the next words come tumbling out. “So beautiful.”

(Name) continues to smile at him and extends her hand and gestures for Jude to take it.

Jude takes a breath in to calm his racing heart and smiles.

“Let's go.”

Later, when (Name) rests her head on Jude's shoulder at the end of the concert, he doesn't feel the annoyance he would have months ago.

Instead, a smile finds its way to his face as he pulls (Name) closer to him.

Maybe, just maybe, he thinks to himself, he and (Name) can be something special.

One day. Maybe one day.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you #football fanfic #football fic #football imagine #football x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader

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cosmicpearlz · 2 months

Text

fragile hearts

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

pairing: jude bellingham x singer!reader

valentine's day, cryin' in the hotel

i know you didn't mean to hurt me,

so i kept it to myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"on valentines day?"

"yeah."

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

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

"why didn't you ask?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"we'll see."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i can't believe you made it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what?"

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

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

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

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

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

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #singer!reader #jude bellingham imagine

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moviestarmartini · 9 months

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oh this referee SUCKS

#he fucking stinks ass #also PLEASE BRAHIM COME AND SAVE US #real madrid #fb : lb

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jsprnt · 2 months

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it’s difficult to communicate with a cute boy when you don’t speak each other’s language fluently

arda güler x jude’s younger sister

A/N: missed writing so much! based on this request, thank you babes! ❤️ (physical features are not specified!)

W/C: 1.574

"I'm outside, hurry up.."

you scream at your incredibly slow older brother through the phone. squinting as the july sun beams through your windshield, into your eyes.

"you're so impatient, you guys-" your brother huffs, his voice low and hushed.

"I'm not the impatient one! mister jobe over here, just ate an entire bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn in one sitting!"

you turn you head, giving jobe a nasty look, in turn, receiving a jab from your irish twin.

"stop! we got it to share!" you shout, rubbing your arm.

"now he's hitting me, come on, or I'll kick him out of the car!"

You scream, fighting back the urge to open the passenger door and kick your brother out to the curb.

"I'll be there in five, behave.."

"It's never just five minutes with you, and I'm not a dog, so I won't 'behave'-"

before you can end your sentence, your older brother hangs up on you. leaving you speechless as jobe snorts at you.

"fuckin' rude ass.."

you mumble, leaning back into your car seat.

"here, sis.." he suddenly says, nice enough, tipping the bag of popcorn just enough for you to see the contents.

it's not much, but it is something..

"thanks.." you reply, sticking your hand into the bag, and retrieving the sweet-and-salty goodness, popping the crunchy snack into your mouth.

five minutes turn into ten, and before you know it, it's been over half an hour.

"look! finally.."

you look up from your phone when jobe suddenly speaks. sighing in relief when you spot jude walking out of the real madrid training center.

"Is he alone?" you squint, moving your head to see.

"he's with brahim, and arda.."

you perk up at the names, immediately following his gaze to the three guys, all carrying their toiletry bags. indicating they'd just finished training.

the second name uttered by your brother, had your heart stuttering instantly. you try to hide the smile creeping up to your face, and pretend like you're still pissed at your older brother for being- extra late.

though, seeing the boy you've been crushing on for a couple months, next to him- maybe, just maybe you'll forgive jude for being so late.

you clear your throat, trying to act like seeing arda hadn't thrown you off a bit, and roll your window down as jude walks over to you.

"you're late.." you mutter, trying to scold your older brother, very discreetly.

you squeal when his hand comes up your face, his palm stretched over your face to shut you up.

"and I'm paying dinner, again, so shush.." he mutters, pulling his hand back when you slap his arm.

"paying for food is your duty as an older brother. it's not like you earn money to buy things for yourself.." you bite, smiling when jobe chimes in.

"yeah, big bro- she has a point.."

you grin at your big brother's expression, though your face falls when he starts talking to his teammates.

your eyes flicker to arda, noticing he'd gotten his hair cut since the last time you saw him.

you had been crushing on him since the day you two met, when you picked up jude after one of his spanish classes, and drove arda home too. out of the kindness of your licenseless-older-brother's heart.

arda didn't even speak that much english, nor did you speak any turkish.

spanish wasn't totally out of the question for the both of you, since you both were learning the language after moving there.

safe to say, you knew the guys communicated in a strange mix of spanish and mostly english. whatever was understood, went.

"can the guys join us?" jude suddenly says, breaking you out of your trance.

"you're paying, so I won't object.." jobe says, leaning back into his seat, and pulling his seatbelt on.

"sure, why not?"

not even twenty minutes pass, and your already parking your little volkswagen polo into the parking lot of the restaurant.

'a perfect first car for my daughter, especially in a new country..' your dad had beamed at the spanish dealership. shaking the dealer’s hand like he'd just bought a brand-new mercedes.

the ride to the unfamiliar restaurant is less awkward than you'd imagined, with two of your older brother's friends in the backseat. mainly lively due to your, suddenly very talkative brothers.

"we're here.." you speak, killing the engine and collecting your handbag.

your eyes dart to the building, and back to your outfit.

you'd never been before, and could only arrive correctly due to jude screaming a couple of directions in between his gossip session.

you sigh to yourself, your pretty summer dress was definitely better than the basic tee and sweatpants worn by the guys.

turning, you reach over to open your door, gasping when the door is opened by someone else.

you look up, making eye contact with a certain age mate of yours. you smile up at him, like it's on instinct, getting out of the car as he holds the door open for you.

"thank you, arda.." you speak, trying to hide the nervous tremble in your voice.

there was something about that smile that made you want to cheese over him all the time. and his brown hair, which looked golden in the sunlight, or the language barrier that made it extra difficult to get closer to him.

but, if your older brother could do it, you could too..

"have you been here before? to this restaurant?" you ask, eyes expressive as you watch him close your car door once you've stepped out.

"yes, two times.." he answers in his thick turkish accent, making eye contact with you.

"was it good?" you continue, eyes flickering to your brothers and brahim already walking into the restaurant.

noticing, you both speed up your pace, your handbag dangling from your hand, and in between you both.

"very good, delicious.."

you chuckle at the movements he makes to express himself, finding it absolutely adorable to his already sweet personality.

"that's good. I trust your taste.."

your words earn an awkward grin back, and you clear your throat. holding yourself back from completely crossing the line.

"you're insanely slow today.."

you hold back a surprised gasp when jobe grabs onto your hand, unaware of your moment with arda. your brother drags you towards a reserved table, and you sigh in reluctance before plastering a smile on your face and greeting the hostess.

the next couple minutes are filled with laughter and chatter, you glance across the table often. conveniently sitting across from arda. you notice the quick glances he takes, and grin to yourself.

taking a second bite of pasta, you look at your bothers. sneaking a bite of jobe's food when he's not looking.

you freeze when you hear a lone chuckle, looking up with red sauced lips to make eye contact with a smiley arda.

he quirks up a brow, looking down at his pizza, before sliding the plate closer to you.

"share?" he suggests with a smile, making you nod eagerly.

"deal.." you say, sliding your plate closer to him. before snatching a slice of the pizza.

"delicious..." you mutter, covering your mouth when you chew down on the cheesy goodness.

arda nods back excitedly, glancing at you with the most tender look in his eyes.

you gulp your food down with an ice-cold lemonade, watching as arda tries your pasta.

"very good.." he finally says, looking at you with a thumb pointing up. giving you the universal sign for 'good/okay'.

though, your cute food tasting moment is interrupted by jobe pricking his fork into your pasta, ruining the mood.

"can I have a breadstick?" he mutters, mouth full.

"I thought you said that you had a new diet for next season?"

"it's a breadstick. come on, sis.."

"okay- you're making it sound like I'm restricting you. eat all you want, damn.." you mutter, chuckling when you make eye contact with arda.

"you want one?" you ask, holding the breadbasket out.

"no, thank you.." you hear him say, before you're distracted by the rest of your food.

later, when dessert is ordered, and you're staring at your empty plate of food when it's being taken away, your phone pings.

you look up, unlocking your phone quickly before reading a pop up message.

'receive a note from 'arda's iphone'?'

you look up at him, quirking up a brow at the smiling boy.

you accept quickly, eyes scanning the message.

'you me, dinner again? I will study english for you.'

you almost lose your composure at the phone number underneath the sweet message, your face and body heating up.

your eyes lock, and you try to nod as discreetly as possible.

you save the number quickly, sending him a message, and watch his phone screen light up.

you grin to yourself, both of you sneaking glances at each other.

flustered enough, to not notice the look both your brothers and brahim are sending you two.

your older brother is protective as ever, though confused about what he should worry about.

arda was a good kid, and there was no way in hell he could give him the 'older brother talk' in your stead.

"your dessert, miss..”

you tune out the waiter, mind drifting to the message arda sent.

cute, you think.

what should you wear on your first date with him?

#arda güler imagines #arda güler x reader #arda x reader #arda guler #arda güler #real madrid fc #real madrid #jude bellingham #jobe bellingham #football imagines #football blurb #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #football

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madridfangirl · 21 hours

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I'm taking you home NOW!

(Jude Bellingham one-shot)

Summary: Jude sees his girlfriend at a club, tries to control himself as he watches her have the time of her life, but ultimately decides to take the matter in his own hands.

Inspired from an anon request.

Impromptu plans with the team was not a frequent occurrence for Jude. Their schedules just didn’t allow that.

So when the training was cancelled for the next morning and the team was wrapping up from Courtois’ documentary release event, a smaller (younger) group decided to extend the festivities of the night.

That’s how they ended up in the private section of a high-end club in Madrid. It had a separate entrance, separate kitchen and a whole separate floor for the more ‘esteemed’ guests. With a tinted glass wall separating them from the section below. The glass was see-through from their side - they could enjoy the atmosphere outside but still be hidden from outside view, keeping their privacy intact.

They had arrived late and the place was already buzzing. Music at high-decibels, along with the energy and vibe.

As they waited for their large table to be set up, Jude looked through the glass at the upbeat scenes on the dance floor. The place was fairly crowded, yet no one seemed to mind. The DJ was top-notch, pausing the music in the middle to get people to sing along. Rallying them into stadium-like Mexican-waves. Taking their requests. Getting them to dedicate songs to each other. The mood was lit AF.

Just when he was about to turn around to find a seat, his eyes landed on a red dress. A very familiar fitted red dress. On a very familiar body.

The girl had his back to him, leaning over the counter to get the attention of the fit bartender amidst all the noise and crowd.

Once he noticed her, the bartender leaned even closer, trying to make out the drink she was asking for. That went on for a good while, and he finally grinned at her, pulling out the tequila glasses.

Jude was frozen in his spot. He didn’t need her to turn around to know that it was his girlfriend that the bartender was entertaining. That back, those curves, that hair, that ass, those legs - he could pick her out of a line-up in his sleep. And that dress. He had bought that fucking body-hugging dress for her. Something he hadn’t seen her in yet. Until now.

He was too occupied to hear his teammates calling him from behind. Ultimately, Cama had to come over & smack his arm to get his attention. Before he could follow Jude’s line of sight, the boy recovered quickly, an impeccable smile donning his face. Most of the seats were already taken up. Jude had to find one with a clear view of the floor. So he had to manoeuvre (practically manhandle) Fran away from a corner seat, plopping next to Brahim. A confused looking Fran walking away to find another spot.

What the fuck was she still doing at the counter? How long does it take to pour a fucking tequila shot? How was this guy a professional?

Maybe he’s taking it slow on purpose.

The bastard.

He craned his neck to get a better view. The guy was holding out salt & lemon in front of her, as she downed her shot. Smiling widely when she appeared to thank him. Jude nearly puked at the sight.

He felt a smack on his arm again, turning around to see Brahim waving the drinks menu in his face.

‘Whatever you’re having.’

He quickly dismissed the interruption & turned around, but she was gone. And the bartender was gone.

Before his mind could run wild, he thankfully placed her making her way through the crowd to the rest of her group, falling happily into her roommate’s arms as she lost her balance. Roma steadied her, and the girls giggled along like maniacs.

Yeah, she was drunk. Pissed drunk. And Jude knew how silly & carefree she got when she was so out of it. But at least she was with Roma, and a couple of other girls Jude could recognise from her pics. Looked like a fun girls night.

They had missed quite a few because work had been super hectic. Even this morning she was certain it would be a long night in office. But looked like something opened up for them as well.

Good for her. She deserved to let her hair down once in a while. And paint the town red.

If only she could do that with him.

Once his profile shot through the roof since the world cup, and especially since the swashbuckling move to Madrid, Jude had been craving the everyday things he used to be able to do earlier. Like chilling at public places - clubs, cafes, amusement parks - without causing a stampede.

And since she had come into his life, the craving to go out & do regular couple stuff had intensified manifolds. But they had kept their relationship private, wanting to avoid the madness that would come from people getting to know. He couldn’t even take her out for a nice meal - some camera somewhere was always catching him. People constantly filming on their phones, even in the private sections sometimes.

Watching her live freely right now made his heart full - like he was living vicariously through her.

But it also made him ache - wanting to join her & be a normal 20 year old boy. To put his arms around her in a way that leaves no doubt that she was taken. If only he could have that once, just once.

The need to have her dance like that with him, swaying her hips against his body, was physically painful. Not that he was much of a dancer but he knew she’d make it work. Maybe he could throw a small party at his house, invite a few teammates who didn’t have a loose mouth and could keep a secret. And who had girlfriends / partners. Brahim & Fede could be good options. Yeah - he’d try to convince her. They could all dress up & have some fun together. Like regular young couples.

While his mind concocted all these wishful plans, he subconsciously downed every drink Brahim put in front of him. On to his fourth one now. In less than 15 mins.

‘You may wanna slow down, buddy.’

No response.

‘Jude.’

No response.

Jude had not turned his face fully, to not draw attention, but his eyes were still focused on her through his peripheral vision. He had been casually turning around and nodding in the middle to appear interested, but mentally he wasn’t present.

‘Boss might drop you in the next game. For Ceballos.’

Still no response.

Brahim laughed & elbowed him in the ribs.

‘Owww what the fuck?’

‘Who is she & where is she?’

‘What? I don’t understand.’

‘Yeah, cut the crap. Someone has clearly caught your attention. Now who’s the one?’

Brahim rose from his seat to try to look behind Jude’s frame but Jude caught him & pulled him down. Others looked at them curiously but Jude just laughed it off, saying he was drunk. They bought it; they were drunk too.

But not Brahim. He was a tanker.

‘Don’t.’

Jude gritted out slowly.

‘Oh boy - you know her from before don’t you?’

Who the fuck made him this smart in such matters? He wished one of the other boys were there instead - they would have laughed it off with ‘I bet she’s hot’ or something.

But not Brahim. He caught on. He observed as Jude shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to make a decision. It was like watching a golden retriever attempting to do trigonometry.

Brahim laughed. Jude narrowed his eyes at him. The group called for another round of shots, still oblivious.

‘What’s funny?’

‘Your pathetic cover up.’

‘Oh shut up.’

Jude gulped his 5th drink - he wasn’t even sure which mix it was.

‘I…it’s complicated, mate.’

Brahim’s face softened.

‘Hey, it’s fine. Don’t need to say anything. Let’s talk when you are ready.’

Jude wanted to. Talking to someone on the team would really help. They were the only ones who would get it. Maybe he could get some useful advice on how to handle the public aspect of the relationship. Brahim was just the guy for it.

But, not now. His mind was too scattered with her thoughts now to have this deep conversation.

‘Thanks.’

Brahim smiled & nodded softly.

‘Must be a special lady.’

Jude smiled back.

‘But seriously, get a hold of yourself if you don’t want others to notice.’

The boys grinned at each other.

Jude turned to admire his special lady once more, who was waving to the music happily. A big smile on her face. Making her look all the more beautiful. The red looked gorgeous on her - the dress, the heels, the ruby lips.

He couldn’t wait for the night to be over so he could take her home.

With that thought, he let her be. And went back to his mates. For real this time.

Next 30 mins passed peacefully.

And then, the DJ decided to screw with Jude. By playing salsa tracks. A romantic dance. A partner dance.

The floor cleared quickly and only the couples remained, dancing to the fast tunes in a close embrace. And, just as his luck would have it, he saw his girlfriend emerge on the floor with Roma, both giggling uncontrollably.

The girls held each other close, and started dancing like the other couples, taking turns on leading their partner.

Jude could’t take his eyes off Ananya. His breath hitched when he saw her spinning & shimmying & dipping in that atrociously tight dress, which kept inching up her thighs with her highly paced moves. She didn’t even notice. But he did. And he knew other guys around her would notice too.

If only he could build a shield around her. A barrier which no one could see past.

If only he could hold her tight and be the person she was dancing so sensually with. Separating her from the crowd, their wandering eyes and sweaty bodies.

Unaware of how she was torturing her boyfriend, Ananya kept dancing like her life depended on it. Swaying in sync with the beats, drawing attention to her firm round butt.

Jude looked down at his pants, as if willing his body to behave. And counted back from 100 to 1 to not do something stupid. Like walking over to her right now.

She’d probably murder him, but at least this torture would end.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the music moved to lifts. The couples followed the beats, and the men lifted their partners off the ground in a variety of moves.

The girls obviously couldn’t do that. And Jude breathed a sigh of relief. But it was too soon.

An ugly, disgusting asshole approached Ananya, offering his sweaty, small hand to be her partner. She obviously refused, like Jude knew she would. But that split second was enough for Jude to lose his shit.

The longer that pig stayed around her, not getting the clear no, the harder Jude gripped his glass. Brahim covered for his friend, knowing he was out of it right now.

The girls smartly decided to move to their table. Where their bags were. And Jude took the opportunity to dial her immediately.

He saw her pull out her phone and smile adorably when she saw it was him calling. Both moved away from their tables, making excuses, finding a corner in their respective sections. His eyes still firmly following her.

‘Heyy babyy.’

She slurred on the line, while blowing kisses through the phone. Jude was unmoved.

‘A bra would have been nice with this dress.’

It hit her like a bucket of cold water.

‘Erm….what?’

She looked around rapidly, the movement making her head spin.

‘Especially if you intended to dance like that.’

She didn’t know if this was real or if she was hallucinating.

‘How did…where are you?’

‘Look up - straight ahead.’

She did. It looked like plain glass but she could make out enough lights beyond it to figure that it was a section divider.

Ofcourse.

How long was he watching her? What was that tone?

And why was it making her nervous? She was just minding her own business. Having fun. What’s wrong with that?

‘Meet me outside in 2 minutes. Ask for the back door.’

‘What?’

‘We are going home right now, Ananya.’

She was crazy about him. But that boy could be so pigheaded at times.

‘No.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. Not calling it a night yet.’

‘Oh yes you are.’

She loved his domineering attitude in bed, but not so much in day to day life.

‘Jude - I barely get time with my friends.’

‘You work with them. You are with them all day. But your nights are mine.’

Despite being mad, that sent a shiver down her spine. Darn that bastard.

But no - she’ll hold her ground here. She won’t give in. He needed to learn that he can’t always get his way. And he most certainly can’t boss her around.

‘Look - I’m gonna need 2 hours, yeah? How about I come to yours after?’

‘How about I come down, throw you over my shoulder & take you with me?’

She should be mad. She should be raving mad. But her skin started to heat at his words. Her treacherous body refusing to comply with the commands of her brain.

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

She whispered, hating how small her voice sounded.

‘Try me.’

His was cocky and confident, as always. That made her recover quickly.

‘Do that - and you can forget about taking me home. Not tonight. Not any night.’

Heavy breathing at both ends. Jude changed tact, not one to accept defeat.

‘I sat here watching you, wanting you, waiting for you. Paid no heed to my friends. And you’re picking yours OVER ME?’

He made it sound like the worst tragedy in the world. Like she had wronged him in a thousand different ways. She saw right through the attempted manipulative wordplay. It may have worked with his other admirers, not with her.

‘Gosh I’m not picking anyone over you. Just wanna chill here some more with my friends.’

Jude being Jude pushed further, like he always did when he wanted something badly. Giving up was not in his dictionary.

‘Yeah? Chill with that bartender maybe? Have some more shots?.’

Ananya stilled. She did flirt a teeny bit with that guy to get her drink faster, and she could tell the guy reciprocated disproportionately. Giving her extra shots on the house. But she quickly left after, nipping it in the bud. It was all quite harmless, really.

Then why was guilt washing over her in waves? Why couldn’t she come up with any half decent response?

Also, how the fuck did Jude catch that from a distance?

Jude could see he had hit the nail on the head. This was his window to double down.

‘Outside. NOW.’

‘1 hour.’

‘Nope.’

’Ok 50 mins. Take it or leave it.’

’15 mins - and I get a strip tease when we get home.’

‘Please Jude.’

‘Save that for when I pound you into the mattress tonight.’

She had to sit down, unable to handle his onslaught in her drunken state. Feeling hot all over with just his words.

’30 mins. Final.’

She needed some consolation win.

He stayed quiet for a few moments.

’30 mins. And strip tease.’

She evaluated silently, realising that’s the longest window she’d get. Before he actually does something stupid to draw attention to them.

‘Fine. But I’m going for brunch tmrw with my friends.’

They usually spent Saturdays cooped up in his bedroom since he had late training. Not tomorrow though - she’d take pride over pleasure. And she really wanted to take him down a peg.

‘Sure - if you can walk.’

‘Oh you…….you little……..I HATE YOU.’

‘Then why are you getting wet right now?’

She nearly dropped her phone. At his audacity, and the fact that he was fucking right.

Tonight was going to be a long night, and he’d make her make it up to him. Make her be a ‘good girl’ for him.

Somehow, despite crumbling on her will to resist him, it didn’t feel like much of a loss. Because she knew he’d make it worth her while too. Like he always did.

...............................................................................................

I could not stop thinking about this scenario & wrote this in the little time I got this weekend 🥹

Thank you dear anon - this was too good to not be written :)

For those who don't know, the characters are from Star Crossed Lovers.

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic

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hugollorizz · 1 year

Note

this isnt an art request but I am proud to say I am part of the hernandiaz soup

FSKJFKD THE SOUP IS GROWING!! and so we unite

#all members come forward #come hither ye #shitpost #theo hernandez #brahim diaz

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featguler · 2 months

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we don't talk about it ────── you don't have the time — arda tries convincing you to come to his game.

♡ ────── pairing : arda güler x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. situationship!arda guler. reader speaks turkish n is speaking turkish with arda in this. angsty i guess??? i keep asking myself why i keep on giving him these stressful situationship scenarios omfg ♡ ────── wordcount : 715 ♡ ────── notes : more situationship arda i literally dc. also sorry for not posting in a while im tiiiired with work and my intern!! >:(( title is from august by flipturn!! ♡ masterlist.

“So you can’t come?”

Arda breathes into the mic, his eyes immediately fluttering close as he hears shrugging on your end, his phone trapped between his shoulders and his ears.

“Yeah.”

Arda tries imagining you right now. He tries imagining the expression on your face, he tries imagining what you are doing—swaying around, sitting down, biting your nails, rolling your eyes—and he lets his fantasies feed more into his imminent heartbreak.

He is in the changing room. Practice was rough that day, though he thinks that maybe it’s just him. Brahim seems to be having the time of his life, and Federico is somewhere talking to Antonio about the shenanigans that his kids, plural now that the youngest have turned one, have been up to lately.

And the room is far from quiet.

It’s alive—full of Eduardo chanting a Spanish song that Vinícius just taught him, full of Jude giggling as he texts his family group chat, and it’s full of Arda’s ailing heart beating against his ribs.

“Sorry,” you mumble to his speaker. Normally, Arda would find a way to voice his disappointment; he would click his tongue, he would thump his head against the wall, he would hang the call and scream into his mouth. But not right now.

“It’s in a week,” he tries negotiating, “not a week, even. 10 days. It’s in 10 days.”

The background noise increases—maybe he’s hallucinating—and Arda decides that he wouldn’t let anyone notice his distress.

No.

A part of him is embarrassed that he’s mulling so much over someone who he has been pining for for ages. He wonders if his older teammates, like Toni or Luka, know what a situationship is. His mother certainly does not. He asked her.

And sure there’s nuances and context in every relationship, but it somehow feels humiliating to explain to his teammates that he’s sad over someone who he is crushing on, but is technically going out with, but also not dating, yet is in a relationship with.

“I know, Arda,” he hears something shifting on your end. “It’s just that I promised my friend that we would go hang out.”

“You can hang out at the Bernabeu,” he encourages, still, his voice light despite the disappointment anchoring his chest. “I’ll get you the tickets.”

Arda opens one eye and watches the changing room, making sure that nobody is giving him their time of day.

“I asked you a few days ago,” he mutters quietly, rubbing the back of his neck rather harshly at the pent up frustration he’s developed every time he speaks to you. “I mean, I asked you first. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?”

You echo him, and Arda lets out a rather long, extravagant sigh.

“Sorry.”

“We’re not—” you sigh. “Not fair? And whose fault do you think that is?”

Arda bites his lips, thinking over his words.

“Sorry.” He sighs again. “My fault. It’s my fault.”

“Right,” you huff into the speaker.

“Right,” he repeats, before uttering out a weak, “I miss you.”

You didn’t answer him for a moment, and Arda fears that he might have lost his hearing, but he eventually hears a breath.

“I miss you too.”

“I miss you more.”

A stupid smile etched on his lips—an idiotic, hopeful smile.

“Whatever.” He can basically see you roll your eyes. “I’m still not coming. I’m not coming to any of your games, you hear me?”

Until you make it official. He can basically hear you say.

He’s had this conversation a million times, and for some reason, it’s not enough push for him to commit to a relationship. He feels like if it were anyone else, he would not have much of an issue in putting a label on your relationship.

But it’s you.

And he has spent so long wanting you. What if you become his, and then you leave? You break up with him, leave him shattered? There is no breakup if there is no relationship in the first place—the senseless voice in his head keeps on whispering—there is no being left alone if he never decided to stay.

“Tell me if you change your mind.”

You huff to the phone again. “See you, Arda.”

He holds back an I love you, and laughs softly.

“I’ll see you around.”

#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა : 𝑬𝑼𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑨 𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑨 #arda guler #arda #arda x reader #arda guler x reader #real madrid #real madrid x reader #real madrid fic #football fic #football x reader #arda güler #arda güler x reader #one-shot

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lewisvinga · 4 months

Text

the better team | federico valverde x fem! araujo! reader

summary; fede’s wife happens to be the sister of his teammate who also happens to play for his biggest rival

fc;various girls on pinterest

warnings; ?

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

note; requested ! decided to do an smau style + reader as araujo’s sister lolll BUT FEDE IS SOOO UNDERRATED😫he is an insane player omg

masterlist !

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

liked by fedevalverde, ronaldaraujo_4, and others !

yourusername: 😇😇😊😊

tagged; fedevalverde, brahim, ardaguler

fedevalverde: 🤍🤍

fedevalverde: pero mi amor, what the fuck is that?

yourusername: the better team😁

fedevalverde: oooooooookayyyy😂😂😂

fedevalverde: i assisted in a ucl final btw

yourusername: ok 🙄 that just makes you good not your team 🙄

username: man he’s losing it rn😭

fedevalverde: no chanel bag for you !

yourusername: federico valverde.

fedevalverde: … so we go to the mall today with beni???😁

username: THE FIRST PIC IS SOOO CUTEEE😫

username: imagine being pregnant for 9 months only for your child to come out looking like his dad😭😭😭

yourusername: his carbon copy😔

username: nahhh the barca jersey is soo😔😭

brahim: bbq🍗

ardaguler: 😁

ronaldaraujo_4: nice jersey 😉

yourusername: the best of the best😁

fedevalverde: stop corrupting my wife🤬

fedevalverde: also ronald answer my text

ronaldaraujo_4: she’s my sister 🙄

ronaldaraujo_4: on it🫡

username: my nt besties 😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

judebellingham: BENNIIIIIII

yourusername: come over w vini soon he’s been asking for you two😭😭

vinijr: we will be there tmrw #trust

username: i love y/n’s monthly photo dumps 🙈

username: y/n u are an icon

username: her being a culer while dating a man who said you’d have to kill him to leave real madrid is soooo funny to me😭😭

username: she’s so real for that bc i’m a culer but im weak for jude and tchouameni

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

liked by fedevalverde, judebellingham, and others !

yourusername: felicitaciones, mi amor [congratulations, my love] on winning la liga and making it to the champions league final. we are so proud of you! we love you so much!🤍🤍

tagged; fedevalverde

fedevalverde: los quiero mucho🤍 [i love you so much]

fedevalverde: see how you’re wearing the jersey of the better team 😉

yourusername: you’re sleeping on the couch tonight 🫶🫶

fedevalverde: SJE DIDNT DENY IT!!

username: fede valverde is insane man

username: he’s lucky asf, his family is so cute 🥹

ronaldaraujo_4: congratulations, cuñado! [brother in law]

yourusername:🤨🤨

ronaldaraujo_4: this is as a nt teammate and as his brother in law NOT as araujo of barcelona

fedevalverde: gracias 😁😛

username: both her sons being js like fede and getting none of the araujo genes is hilarious 😭

yourusername: the next one will be like me i swear 😖

fedevalverde: so we can try for the next one?🤔

vinijr: YO THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( arda )

ardaguler: 😧😧😧

judebellingham: omg protect him

yourusername: drama queens

username: the jerseys 🥹

username: dad valverde>>

username: adding y/n to my wag vision board 💆‍♀️

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