#eric dier drabble

[footballffbarbiex]

Winter: Christmas Décor

player: eric dier words: 386 request: Eric Dier - she / her - 250 - 500 - You and Eric having that usual Christmas decoration argument, he refuses to be interested but is obsessing over how the house looks.

-

“If you could pass me the…” she trails off as she turns, her hand already recoiling despite only being half-stretched out. “Of course you’re not here. Again.” The sigh that comes from her is almost automatic and not out of malice, though it could easily be done like that too.

Eric had so far not wished to participate in any of the decorating. He was happy to go around the stores and pick things out with her to purchase but the decorating side of things was down to her. He’d stand in the doorway, sipping on his hot mulled wine and watching her like a disapproving Grinch.

She’s reaching over the ladder when he reappears, popping half a sugar cookie into his mouth before chewing. “Did you say something?” He asks. The usual tone of his voice disappears quickly when he realises not only how high up she is, but also that she could tumble from it ever so easily. “Hey! Hey, what are you doing?” he almost shouts, cramming the rest of the cookie into his mouth as he rushes forward.

“Well, I did ask for help.” she grumbles as he steadies the ladder.

“What were you trying to do?” he talks through the mouthful of cookie, crumbs dropping onto his shirt which he wipes away quickly, dusting them to the floor.

“What you wouldn’t.” she tells him, looking him directly in the eye and holding it there.

“It’s dangerous for you to be up there wh-”

“You only have yourself to blame, Scrooge. Maybe if you’d helped,” she taps a finger to his chest, “I wouldn’t be up here trying to do it all myself.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted you to hurt yourself.” he tries to reason. “I like the overall look of it. Really, I do. I just hate being part of the process.”

“And yet, you’re always on hand to offer critique.” Her eyebrow raises and he flashes her a grin.

“But am I right with it?”

“I’d still like some help though. Maybe for things like this, the hard to reach places. I’ll do any of the rearranging if you feel that it needs it.”

“You just want me to join in?”

“Always. I’ll not tell anyone you tried your hand at Christmas décor.”

“Then consider me at your service.”

[boreussia-durmmund]

Sundays hum in god’s way for eternity

Ella rubbed her eyes just waking up from the nap she had on the couch. It was autumn, rainy cold autumn in England. London wasn’t treating y’all well at the moment. The night shifts of the last week were still making her tired, so Eric had volunteered to go out with them alone on this Sunday afternoon, giving her some time to rest. Ella loved him for it. The dogs greeted her at first, both of them jumping onto the couch happily. Their tails were wiggling but they were both dirty and wet. “You little dirty buddies. Now I can wash the sheets again.” Ella stated but they both got a kiss on the head and were pet. Then Eric walked in with a big smile on his face, his eyes were shining as bright as the sun in June.  “You look so beautiful, This my idea of happiness.” He told you his smile as bright as his mouth. “It’s only my idea as well if you come and join.”  she replied smiling back at him. Harry seemed just so vital right now. “Let me get into clothes that are not wet, get some of the cookies we baked yesterday and then we’ll cuddle through the rest of the weekend.” Ella nodded. Their love was cuddles, kisses at midnight, dog hair, lots of dog hair actually, their favourite orange juice, the XXL blanket they cuddled under and the light in their eyes.

This one is for Cami @the-place-to-sparkle hope you liked it darling

[penguintransporter]

Daisies (a short “anyone you want it to be” story) Part IV

part I | part II | part III | my masterlist

Hello my dear people of Tumblr and anyone who reads this story. And just heads up, there is one more chapter left, and I promise, it won’t end up like Winning The Game Called Love - which you can read here - and which started as a short story and ended up as being my longest project so far. Anyway, this is fourth part, make sure to read the previous three, and tell me what you think. Anon option exist and if you don’t want me to publish it, just make a note of it, and I won’t. Chapter is dedicated to @avenirdelight​ (I am working on that promise, just letting you know), and @footballerimaginess​ just because I feel like it (obviously, other tags will follow at the bottom, and if you want to be tagged, just let me know)

Love.

Unknown, incomprehensible, undefinable.

Many of us have tried, and many of us have failed to give a unique meaning to it, but no amount of vowels and consonants, no matter how tightly-tied together, cannot describe what is truly hiding behind something that is both pain and relief, suffering and pleasure; poison and remedy. Shy and eccentric, confusing and self-explanatory, love can be a complicated aria or a simple melody, all at once – embodied in four individual tones, intertwined together.

Love—four letters; a word.

He’s leaning against the small area of the wall between the doors and a teak shelf packed with random knick-knacks, plants and old-fashioned figurines – a vintage clock, hanging above his head ticking quietly. Familiar faces are surrounding him, their loud chatter filling the small, unfamiliar kitchen, but oddly enough, he feels like a surplus among them – almost as if he doesn’t belong there.

Just a trespasser with a strange feeling that he is not used to.

Small; insignificant.

Invisible. Locked inside his own tormented mind, guarded by his own thoughts.

He can feel his emotions are getting all over the place – stretching and pulling on his heart as if it was some kind of a rubber band containing his feelings, and not even hours later since they arrived at the place she called her home for the past few months, he doesn’t know what to do or what to say.

If he should say anything at all?

Are there words that would make a difference?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Foolishly, he had hoped that it would be easier – being in the same room with her again, hearing her voice and her laughter; watching her move gracefully around the room, but it is not. If anything, it is more difficult than he ever imagined; more everything.

And what pains him the most is that the whole ordeal feels strained – the way they interacted with one another since they stepped into the small, and oddly decorated house, the way she spoke to him, the way she moved around him – almost like a ghost; afraid to say too much, afraid to make a wrong step.

He looks at his knuckles – dry skin slightly chipped from the wind.

The ring on his index finger is staring back at him, feeling a bit too tight; a bit too heavy, so with a twist, he takes it off and stashes it in the pocket of his jeans before rubbing at the swollen skin that now throbs in pain.

Looking up, he glances back at her – eyes taking in all the tiniest details of her silhouette.

How was he able to miss it when he had it in front of his eyes all this time?

So close, yet so far away.

The look in her eyes is a surprised one as she turns around and gasps at whatever one of their friends had been telling her before she shakes her head in a childish manner. Finally, a simple laughter escapes her lips and she throws her head back in amusement, and he can see the happy tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. A sudden wave of sadness washes over him, and he can feel the knots in his stomach tangling and twisting.

Will he ever be able to hold her, to make her laugh; make her happy?

Will he ever be able to utter the words that float on the tip of his tongue – light as a feather and heavy as the stone at the same time?

I need you.

Suffocating.

With a heavy breath he pushes himself away from the wall and makes his way towards the patio doors that are ajar – small breeze taking the thin curtains out for a dance. No one in the small kitchen, not even her, flinches or says something when he walks out, all of them heavily invested in the conversations about this and that – filling up the blank pages of the colourful storybooks with memories and happenings.

Distant.

Pots and pans; pinch of this and pinch of that – the smell of food filling up the space.

A loud laughter, espresso machine noises; a sound of yet another wine bottle being open – the cork rolling underneath the dining table.

The intense smell of the rain is still in the air, and the breeze that hits his face is crisp and cold, miserable and melancholic at the same time. For a moment, he closes his eyes as he leans over, resting his elbows on top of the wooden railing before letting his mind wander – eyes focusing on a row of cypress trees swaying in the distance.

A passerby walking along the cobbled path – yellow raincoat standing out in a sea of green.

A dog on a leash.

Silence.

He wonders if there is a field of daisies nearby.

He shivers.

Upon arrival, as they stood outside the small airport – drizzle of rain brushing against their faces, she had hugged him; arms wrapping gently around him as if it was a scarf made out of the finest silk. He had missed her so much, that in that exact moment, nothing else mattered and all he could think about was the fact that she was there, in his arms, and for a second, it felt as if everything was okay; as if everything was like before.

As if he deserved her.

He never wanted to let go.

She didn’t flinch as he held her, and instead, she tightened her own hold around him, and let him take a deep inhale of her scent, filling every fibre in his body with it.

‘I am glad you’re here…’

‘I am glad you wanted me here...’

He hears the doors slide open, and without looking, he knows that it’s her because for some reason, he feels it, and when he glances over her shoulder, she’s standing behind him – dressed almost identically as when they first met.

“Rubbish weather, eh?” she jokes lightly as she looks up at the grey sky before stepping beside him. “I thought you might want this.”

He looks down at her dainty hand that hold the familiar dark blue flannel shirt.

The same shirt he borrowed her many, many months ago as they sat outside his house, chatting away their summer evening.

The same shirt she never bothered to return.

Not that he minded or wanted it back anyway.

“Thanks,” he musters up, clearing both his throat and his thoughts before taking the garment from her hands, but instead of putting it on, he looks at her for a short second, meeting her eye. 

She is looking at him – a timid smile on her lips, but he can only see the shadow of sadness glazing over her orbs and it makes his stomach twist in pain, so he turns away and leans against the fence.

She does the same while he nervously wrings the shirt in his hands as they both stare at the ground in front of them.

A watering can and some empty flowering pots scattered around the patio. A chair and a plaid blanket resting on top of it; pair of Birkenstock slippers in the corner.

He had imagined this moment way too many times – but now that they were finally alone, the script that he wrote carefully seemed to be lost, cut into bits; rearranged and scattered around his brain.

He cannot help but wonder why and when did it become so difficult to just be honest with himself; honest with her? 

When did it become so difficult to say what he wants?

“It used to be different, no?” she states, looking at her hands. “And it makes me wonder...Did I say something? Done something wrong? It’s really bothering me.”

His words although unspoken, have a sour taste in his mouth and he feels defeated. He doesn’t want her to think that it was her fault; that it was her who has to carry the cross of his behaviour.

She doesn’t deserve that burden.

“No, it’s just, I—,” he stops himself from speaking because he doesn’t know how to say it. “I know about…” he runs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, “I know how you feel about me? Or at least, how you felt about me.”

His last words are barely above the whisper, but he knows that they were loud enough, and that she has heard them because she’s suddenly quiet; too quiet. 

And it feels like forever, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself, with his aching heart; with the realisation of what he just said.

“I was aiming high when it was quite obvious that I will fall flat on my face, no?”

“I am one to blame,” he manages to utter, but it’s not what he is supposed to say. It is not what he needs to say; what he desires. “and I want to say that I—“

No.

“No one is to blame,” she interrupts reassuringly, looking up at him with a sad smile. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up for not feeling the same for me.”

But I do.

__

Even more than you think.

🌼

Part V

tagging these lovely people: @rosie7703, @emwritesfootball, @alexajanecollins, @afootballimagines, @footballcloud , @englishfairylights @footballerimaginess , @footballxwrites, @just-imagines, @emwritesfootball, @macybeckham7, @hnrfc @nuestraluzdelaluna​

[avenirdelight]

Main Character

Eric Dier

She looked so beautiful in her white wedding dress. Eric could see her bright smile radiating past the thin white veil that was covering her face. Her hand was clinging into her father's arm, while her other hand held a white flowers bouquet. Eric remembered when she told him that she wanted everything in the wedding to be in white. She believed that marriage is a holy and sacred ceremony and celebration, so everything had to be in the purest color. And she had got all her wishes come true.

Guided by her father, she walked to the altar. The piano was echoing beautifully in the room, making the scene look like it came out from a fairy tale. She walked gracefully yet certain with every step she took. Eric couldn't imagine how nervous she was right now, as he was feeling the same thing. He started to feel this lump on his throat, making it harder for him to breathe.

Eric could hear whispers around him about how beautiful she looked. She was breathtaking. He thought that she always glowed in every important moment of her life, but she had never glowed like this. She was shining bright as she should be as the one and only main character today.

She had been dreaming of this magical moment since she was a little girl. She had told Eric everything about her wedding dream. She had told him how she wanted her dress to be simple and elegant, made of satin with a glamorous chapel train. She wanted to wear a bracelet that her late mother wore at her wedding. She wanted white candles to be lit alongside the aisle and the arch in the altar to be covered in white fabrics and flowers.

And Eric hated himself because he was not the one who made her wedding dream come true.

She walked past Eric, towards the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with; her eyes were still locked with her groom's who was standing down the aisle. The groom was shedding his tears, making Eric wonder how amazing it would be to stand in his place right now. Eric had always imagined that he was going to be the one watching her walk to him in that beautiful dress. He had imagined how he would cry so hard because he was going to marry her, his other half. But destiny didn't bring her to him. She had found the love of her life, and it was not Eric.

The regrets were creeping on his mind once again. If only Eric had fought for her, if only Eric had put his ego aside and put her first, he believed he would be the one standing at the altar wearing a white suit, waiting for her. He would vow to be the best husband that would protect and love her forever, and give her the life that he promised. But he was too late to fix everything and get her back. She had fallen in love with another man and he couldn't do anything about it.

Eric felt like his world was crumbling down. The three years that he spent together with her suddenly flashed in his mind like a movie. This wasn't the ending he wanted, but he knew he had to be happy for her, for the path she chose for herself.

She arrived at the altar. The groom took her hand from her father's, and the tears finally rolled down Eric's cheeks. He really was no longer a main character in her story.

—

i don’t know what got into me and made me write this. hurts me more than it should😭💔

My Masterlist🤍

[heartshapedracetrack]

I looooove the stars, so 47 would be really really great😊❤❤

“The stars look beautiful tonight.”  Dele says and Eric looks up into the sky from where he’s lying on the gras.

He feels quite good having Dele in his arms and the night comfortable around them like a big blanket.

“There are no stars above London.” Eric says frowning because all he can see is darkness and the light shimmer of the moon.

“There are always stars. You just have to know where to look for them.” Dele says, cuddling closer and Eric tightens his grip around him.

“Since when do you know so much about astrology? I didn’t think it was something that interests you.” Eric asks surprised. He’s known Dele for a long time and yet he learns something new about him everyday.

“I don’t.” Dele says and Eric draws his eyebrows in confusion. Dele smiles at him.

“Who said I was talking about the stars in the sky? Maybe I was talking about my personal star.”

Eric stares at him before it finally clicks and he starts laughing.

“You’re an idiot.” He says shaking his head but he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice.

“Yeah but I’m your idiot.”

[leclerc-xo]

Sneaky peek at the drabble I am working on...

“Out with it then.”

“Well Dele. We’ve been discussing this whilst waiting for you to finally show up. We know how much joy you derive from handing out forfeits so we think it's about time you got a taste of your own medicine.”

“Ok. Get it over and done with then. What have I got to do? Dance? Sing?”

“Oh no none of that.”

“Well then what is -” he stopped as Winksy looked up, glancing over his shoulder to find that Eric had approached.

“Your forfeit, Dele, is that you are not allowed any contact with Mr Dier here for the whole day.”

“What?”

“You heard. No contact. At all. All day.”

“But - wait and you agreed to this?”

He spun round, bumping his chest against Eric’s shoulder and Eric shrugged. Dele flipped his gaze between the three of them, his mouth open. This was uncalled for. Completely and utterly uncalled for. Normally the forfeits were silly things like singing a song at the next team dinner, attempting a dance or filming a stupid video.

“Yes your lovely boyfriend did agree to it and that’s the last time you will be talking to him today,” Jan said, standing up to clap Dele on the shoulder. Dele looked at Eric who smiled at him, a wide shit eating smile.

“I don’t think he’s going to be able to do it,” Eric commented, lifting the bottom of his shirt up to rub at his face. “Not a chance he’s going to be able to resist me until 6pm.” Dele’s gaze dropped to Eric’s bare stomach and he rolled his eyes as he saw Eric smirk behind his hand. This was going to be hell.

“Just watch me,” he said to Jan and Winks who fell about laughing as he walked back over to his locker.

[iwriteficsandtragedies]

*Please read any warnings and/or author’s notes at the top of fics/chapters. NSFW is marked.*

Series

New - Lifelong friends Sergio Ramos and Emilia are just that - friends. Right? [Completed]

Number 20 - Meeting Marco Asensio one night at the Santiago Bernabéu changed your whole life. [ON HIATUS]

Locked Down - part 1, part 2, part 3

The Break Up (Leon Goretzka) - Before You Go, Relapse, Echoes, Invisible String

Victory - post-match victory drabbles/imagines, multiple players. NSFW marked appropriately.

Kink Bingo

One Shots/Imagines - alphabetically by last name

Sergio Aguero

Isco Alarcon

Rafinha Alcantara

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Ethan Ampadu

Marco Asensio

Gareth Bale

Federido Bernardeschi

Roman Burki

Julian Brandt

Dani Carvajal

Dominic Calvert-Lewin

Casemiro

Ben Chilwell

Rúben Dias

Eric Dier

Paulo Gazzaniga

Leon Goretzka

Jack Grealish

Antoine Griezmann

Eden Hazard

Mats Hummels

Daniel James

Sami Khedira

Simon Kjaer

Aleksandar Kolarov

Toni Kroos

Alex Lacazette

Jesse Lingard

Marcos Llorente

Kylian Mbappe

Luka Modric

Mason Mount

Oscar Mingueza

Keylor Navas

Jan Oblak

Sergio Ramos

Sergio Reguilon

James Rodriguez

Marco Rose

Leroy Sane

Luke Shaw

Andre Silva

Santiago Solari

John Stones

Corentin Tolisso

Virgil Van Dijk

Raphael Varane

Kyle Walker

[ao3feed-football]

Meeting you

read it on AO3 at http://bit.ly/2JFGoAK

by CarmenOnMonday

A collection of drabbles requested on tumblr. ------------- Maybe their differences mean exactly nothing. Maybe they only give them a reason to make an effort to understand each other better. Maybe it’s the differences that make them balance each other out.

Dele’ll take it.

Words: 5459, Chapters: 6/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Men's Football RPF

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dele Alli, Eric Dier, Harry Kane (Football), Jan Vertonghen

Relationships: Dele Alli/Eric Dier

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Conversations, Short & Sweet

read it on AO3 at http://bit.ly/2JFGoAK

[footballerimaginess]

We have won against Tottenham with the best cb in the league. What about a Dier/Tottenham Drabble spree?

What does that even mean? Tottenham won. Sorry to disappoint but Eric isn’t the best centre back against in the league. I won’t be doing any blurbs today.

[footballffbarbiex]

A Dog Draws In A Man.

player: eric dier words: 532 request: Eric Dier    |   250 - 500   |  no pref  |   “Do you want tea or hot chocolate?”  A friendship date where you meet up for a catch up with one another

-

Rain continues to pelt the windows as the café bell rings when the door is pushed open and a flurry of cold makes its way in along with the man that stands at the entrance. Scanning the tables looking for you, his eyes finally come to rest and a smile breaks out over his face once you’re located.

A shiver ripples through you, making your body writhe as the coldness licks over you and you pull your sweater a little more around you out of instinct. Raindrops cling to the fabric of his jacket and more falls from him as he pulls the beanie from his head and ruffles his short hair.

“You could have left the weather out there with you instead of bringing it in here.”

“I could say the same about your attitude,” Eric replies, lifting the hat and sprinkling you with more water as you chuckle. “What do you want, tea or hot chocolate?” he asks when he notes that no drinks are on the table.

“Hot chocolate, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He nods as he shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on the back of the seat next to him to dry off a little. Turning his back to you, he stuffs his phone into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet and heads to the counter to order.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asks after placing the tray with hot drinks and a few snacks down. You watch as he tears the tops of the sachets of sugar and begins to stir it through before taking a cautious sip and nodding happily to himself.

“I’ve been good, work’s keeping me busy.”

“How’s the pup?”

“Ohh, so that’s why you wanted to meet up? Not to spend time with me of course, but to come and see the dog.”

“Then surely by that logic we should be at yours and not out in public.”

“It took me getting a dog for you to make time to see me,” you point out, lips curving in a smile as you take a small drink.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Eric quips, using his spoon to steal some of your whipped cream and a marshmallow. You swipe your own spoon and give the back of his hand a hard pat, ensuring you catch him on the knuckles for good measure. He scowls at you but eats his stolen goods anyway before holding the spoon head in his mouth while he rubs his hand with his other. “We need to do better.” He admits, and, noting your raised eyebrow, “I need to do better.” he corrects and you chuckle.

“No, we both do.” you say, not wanting to allow him to take all of the blame, even if the two of you know that the majority of distance has been on Eric’s side. But he was a friend, not a lover and you didn’t expect him to be living in your pocket.  “So, tell me. How has life been treating you?”

“Well,” Eric replies and leans forward and begins to speak. And for the next couple of hours, the only time either of you move is to get another drink.

[footballffbarbiex]

leaving food out for the hedgehogs with Eric dier please 🥰

from this list.

I've actually missed writing Eric!

-

she runs off ahead of Eric, her little ponytail bouncing as she goes. wrapped up in a thick, warm coat which has mitts attached to the sleeves, black fleece leggings and wellington boots which seem far too big for her little frame, she's well prepared for the cold autumn weather. the days of 20c+ were now a distant memory and in its place is an icy bite.

Eric had discovered that hedgehogs were coming into the garden when one of the dogs had come in foaming at the mouth with a bloody nose, causing Eric to go out and see what had happened. the small creature was still curled up in a tight ball when he'd approached.

"looking for some food, mate?" Eric had asked, more to himself than the hedgehog itself who, of course, could not reply. despite the change in the weather, Eric couldn't believe that it was already weeks before Christmas but seeing the small prickly beings now being out, it was certainly marking the end of the year.

and so today, while she was at nursery, Eric had stopped by the pet store and purchased two shallow bowls, some wet cat food, some dried mealworms and a small bag of specific hedgehog food to mix through it all. her excitement when she'd rummaged through the carrier was contagious, and he'd given himself a little pat on his back for thinking of doing this.

he carries the bag containing everything and follows behind her to where she chooses to set everything up. close enough to watch from the patio, but far enough away to not spook them.

"right here," she declares, waving her arms around with a flourish at her chosen spot.

Eric places everything on the ground and empties out his bag. in one bowl, he empties some of the bottled water into it - because even hedgehogs deserve filtered clean water - and she helped to grab a handful of their food, shake just a little of the dried worms in and help to open up the cat food pouch.

"it smells," she remarks, and he has to agree. cat food was one of the worst smells - other than when it comes out of the other end.

"don't get it on your fingers then," he comments as she scrunches her nose up and carefully squeezes some out with his help. she takes the fork that he offers and gives it a good mix, with some of it coming over the edge of the bowl.

"oops," she whispers, turning to look at him with a grimace.

"it's ok, it just means they don't have to work as hard to get that bit of their dinner," Eric soothes her concerns away, smiling as she looks visibly relieved.

"do you think they'll like it?"

"i think they'll love it. i can't see many others leaving out little snacks for them, but they'll need it."

"why?"

"because they need a nice full belly for when they go for their big sleep before Christmas."

"can't they just ask Santa for a big meal?"

Eric chuckles to himself and reaches forward to ruffle her hair a little. "if only it was that simple bubba."

[footballffbarbiex]

As it stands, the series being completed sooner are:

Antoine Griezmann Blank Space.

Anyone You Want So…Teach Me

Fernando Torres To Be Owned By You.

Rúben Dias  Speakeasy. Patreon until completion.

Trent Alexander Arnold / OC / Dominik Szoboszlai. Compersion.

with "runner up" series as: (in most vote order)

Roman Bürki. HEA.

Oscar Mingueza. Counting Stars. Patreon until completion.

Anyone You Want. Just A Taste. Patreon until completion.

Antoine Griezmann. Always. 

Antoine Griezmann. For Your Entertainment. Mini series. Patreon until completion.

Antoine Griezmann. A Kiss From Death.

Antoine Griezmann. Tear You Apart.

Eric Dier.  Baby, Sugar. Patreon until completion.

Mason Mount. The Heart Never Lies. 

Roman Bürki. Remember Me. Patreon until completion.

Federico Bernardeschi. Behind Enemy Lines. Patreon until completion.

Federico Bernardeschi. Here Without You. Patreon until completion.

Oscar Mingueza Lost In Paradise.  Kink Bingo glory hole series.

Oscar Mingueza. The Vow.

You can still vote here.

[footballffbarbiex]

this is what i'm hoping to come back with

these are on my first to write hit lists but that doesn't mean i won't be writing anything else too.

i know i have some more blurbs on here to write but this cold has knocked me on my ass so i'll get on them ASAP.

anything below you're looking forward to?

Antoine Griezmann

Antoine knows you’re watching at home (and there might be a sex ban bet) and plays up for the camera a little. 

Baby daddy anto and his little girl braiding one another’s hair. 

Watching a scary movie where one is terrified and the other can’t stop laughing

Enjoying some wine after a hectic day

What a better way to brush up on your french than a quick oral lesson?

A clear penalty that wasn’t given leaves a bitter taste in anto’s mouth so you take matters into your own hands and holes.

Baby it’s cold outside so you need warming up in the best way

Tracing his tattoos becomes a form of foreplay…

The only way to ensure you get what you want is to make sure it’s on his mind

Whoever cums first loses

He’s up for a threesome until he realises he doesn’t want to share

He’s thinking about what he wants from you while he’s alone in a hotel (smut)

Anto plans to edge you for as long as possible, even if it takes all day

________

Ben Chilwell

A continuation of the pillow humping drabble

“You’re not the man I married” angst. 

________

Ben White

Ben really wants to show you how much he loves the new lingerie

________

Beth Mead

Celebrating winning the euros with her (leads to smut)

________

Charles Leclerc

Charles is left to handle several children by himself, making him one stressed boy.

Enemies to lovers. Slightly AU - he’s an old money prep boy

Secret dating is about to become public

________

Daniel Ricciardo 

Cooling down on a hot day only leads to more heat

________

Dominic Calvert Lewin

His curls. Playful and dirty pulling of his hair examples

________

Emre Can

Walking in the summertime with his little girl. Playing with the flowers.

________

Eric Dier

Eric and your daughter are putting on a magic show and he’s the assistant

________

Jack Aitken 

Leaving love notes

________

Jack Grealish

Showing Jack just how confident you’re now feeling and dressing up for him 

________

Jadon Sancho

Jadon’s ex is causing trouble and their relationship is on thin ice.

Jadon’s dressing up your son to look like him

________

John Stones

Finally having untprotected sex with John. 

Unwinding at home with John after a long stressful week (fluff)

John likes to get handsy after some sun, sea and sand. 

Over protective baby daddy John

Out and about with the newborn

________

Kepa Arrizabalaga

They split when he was leaving Spain and though things didn’t end bad, it felt like there was little closure. Now they’re back in the same city, are those feelings still there?

________

Kylian Mbappe 

Dating Tuchel’s daughter in secret … until it’s no longer a secret. (smut)

________

Leon Goretzka

That first time sex and trying to be quiet

________

Marco Rose

An unexpected pregnancy leaves Marco unsure of himself 

________

Mason Mount

Mason takes it upon himself to decorate the nursery

Mason being a good egg during labour

________

Paulo Dybala

She’s a belly dancer and practices a new routine for him

Lazy day in after he’s been to training

Celebrating his birthday with a meal and dessert 

Drunken sex headcannon

________

Rodrigo De Paul

Helping her get out of her head (smut)

________

Rúben Dias

1 of 2 - they meet and bond over both being new to Manchester and not having many people around. One thing leads to another and ….

2/2  even though they’re just friends, jealousy gets in the way during a night out and there’s only one way to get rid of that. 

A bad mood of yours leads to cockwarming

Rúben doesn’t like that your ex is sniffing around again

You really shouldn’t have sent those nudes while he was away

A new on the pitch agreement leaves him feeling competitive (smut)

Trying to make a baby

You get a tattoo of his jersey number

Watching porn together

NSFW alphabet

She’s his neighbour and drunkenly locked herself out. He’s there to rescue her

You’re home late from work and he’s doing the baby’s bedtime routine

Spending the first night at his (fluff)

Ruben is all manly out of the bedroom, but you’re in charge between the sheets

Squirting for the first time

She’s not there at the ballon d’or with him but he sees what she’s up to and he’s not impressed (smut)

Being manhandled by Ruben

John’s challenged Ruben to No Nut November but can he last?

________

Sergio Ramos

A birthday present for the birthday boy. 

________

Trent Alexander Arnold

Sexting quickly escalates. 

When a switch meets a switch, who will come out top? (smut)

Your son has only just started walking but Trent’s determined to put a ball at his feet

Trent is trying to be her tour guide in another country but she knows more

________

Threesomes and moresomes

Poch’s daughter has caught the eye of several Liverpool players… ft Joe Gomez / Trent Alexander Arnold /  reader  / reader’s best female friend /  Virgil van Dijk

Thigh riding becomes more -  Kepa Arrizabalaga / reader / Mason Mount 

3 Lions aren’t just on shirts, they’re also inside you. Dominic Calvert Lewin / reader / Mason Mount / John Stones

________

Unnamed

Making you watch yourself cum + aftercare

Needing to make you forget about the shit day you’ve had

You receive texts throughout the day about what he wants to do to you

You’ve begged for him and he’s not giving you attention. But you’ll take what you want and pay the price later

Public teasing only gets you so far

Sub!player being made to watch and beg to touch you

________

Virgil van Dijk

Restraining and blindfolding Virgil and having your way with him

Meeting your family for the first time

[footballffbarbiex]

To Love All Of Me. 18.

Player: Eric Dier Words:1,857 Request and warning: far too long to post the request here (but check at the end for it at the end) but the warnings are: pushing Eric away, being a big girl and having huge insecurities. A lot of frustrated thoughts and self-destroying traits.

It didn't feel right to turn this into a smut, but I hope it's ok despite all of the angst. Insecurities can truly bring out the worst in us.

I don’t think I ended up posting this? I can’t find it but yeah. here we go. 

____

The night you met Eric, you’d been feeling brave, certainly gutsy and with a few glasses of liquid courage in the form of wine, you’d made your way over to the footballer and flashed him your best smile. Somehow, it had worked. Eric had given you one, two, three and more looks and it seemed that was all it was needed for his attention to be gained.

Once the alcohol had worn off and you’d looked at your phone the next day, the confidence you’d had then had disappeared much like the evening itself. Eric had text, asking how your head was and to see if he could take you out for something to soak up any remaining booze. Your nerves had shot up, you’d scrutinised every outfit in your wardrobe until you’d found as close to the perfect one as you could possibly get.

What you’d thought would be one afternoon for him to be polite and soften the blow as to why he didn’t actually want to continue this quickly turned into a long-term relationship. With Eric, you didn’t feel pressured to act a certain way and you didn’t get the feeling that he was faking his interest. If he was acting, then he was damn good at it. His eyes would soften, you’d feel his heart pounding beneath your hands or against your body depending on which part of you was touching his chest.

You’ve never thought you could be this comfortable around someone, let alone with Eric. The idea of being with someone who could choose anyone and yet still choose you to be the one they sleep next to at night and share their life with filled you with happiness and confusion. It’s not that you thought of yourself as a bad person, it was just a mind-blowing concept that someone in the public eye could feel this way about you. But Eric was just Eric with you. He didn’t brag about his somewhat celebrity status, his wealth or what was at his fingertips if he required it and that was part of the reason you loved him.

But as much as you felt comfortable and relaxed with him, being that way was another matter. You’d feel yourself lifting up whenever he pulled you down on his knee, forcing the weight into your feet to try and relieve some from his body and if you did manage to remain on his lap with his arms around you, you’d make an excuse and climb off after only a few minutes to save his thighs.

If the two of you went anywhere for a date, your body was pulled into a pair of Spanx to help try and suck in your belly and hips, smoothing out any lumpy areas, especially as you sat down. It didn’t matter how hungry you may have been, you found yourself ordering the most filling but with the smallest portion available. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t a healthy way of thinking, especially as none of it had been caused by Eric himself but you couldn’t help it.

It felt as though the more you pulled away from him, the more Eric tried to make you feel loved. He tried whatever he could. The pet name “beautiful” rolled from his tongue in a natural way and always had, he bought you flowers for no and all reasons; he didn’t need a special day to do so. Though he’d always left you notes on his empty pillow when he’d leave for away matches, he started to do it just because he could. You liked this, would trace your fingers over his words until you found yourself murmuring them as you read them.

And it’s these letters that you sit reading right now. You’re curled up with a glass of wine, a lamp on a low setting to create a peaceful atmosphere. You look over them as they spill from your lap and over onto the rest of the couch. Words telling you what he loves about you, how happy you make him. Words reiterating what his actions have also shown you.

“Why can’t you just believe these, you silly cow,” you find yourself muttering before taking a sip of your wine. You’d been insecure before Eric, but something was just heightened this time around, despite him going above and beyond.

A sinking feeling begins in your stomach and you hate the taste of sickness that builds. Eric would no doubt be on the flight now to head back out to Portugal on a holiday that you hadn’t brought yourself to go on. The house now felt lonely without him here, even if his dogs were still here.

Groaning, you down the rest of the glass contents and get to your feet, taking a little more time to pull yourself towards the edge of the seat and finally get up. You may end up finishing this bottle, something you haven’t done for a while. Usually, they’ve lasted you several days, but you doubt that will happen tonight.

You’re only just in the hallway when you hear the door, a key trying in the lock. The dogs are in the hallway before panic can truly get a hold of you, their tails wagging crazily as the door is opened and Eric steps back into the house.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, disbelief clear in your voice as you stare at him.

“I decided I wasn’t going to go without you.” He replies. “I sat there in the airport going over everything, trying to figure out why you wouldn’t want to come with me, and I thought rather than wasting even more time, I’d just come back and ask you myself. So, what am I doing that’s making you not want to be with me?”

The straight to the point question, even though it’s expected, still throws you off. It makes your throat feel dry and your stomach to drop.

“Hi to you too.” it’s the only thing you can say right now before you turn on your heels and continue back to the kitchen. You can hear his footsteps following behind, your hands working to pour yourself another glassful. “I both like this approach that you’ve taken but it also terrifies me.”

“Why?” His voice is softer than you expected it to be and that hurts you a little more.

“Because it means I have to speak to you, even if I’m scared to voice everything.”

“Is it me?”

“Not in the way you think, no.” You take a large gulp and put the glass back down as you swallow. “Should I just come out with it? I don’t think there’s an easier way. I might ramble. I’m sorry.” Eric remains quiet, waiting patiently to hear what’s going on. “I realise how big I am. And I also know that I was this size when we met and it didn’t stop you from wanting to take me on several dates, ask me to be your girlfriend and move in with you. I feel it when you say you love me. I feel it everywhere. And yet, I don’t feel like I deserve that from you.”

You pause as he looks as though he wants to speak. “But I haven’t made you feel as though you don’t deserve it?”

“No, you do the opposite and try to show me why I do. But as stupid as this sounds, I can’t seem to accept that from you.”

“But why not?” there’s no malice in his tone, just confusion and hurt.

“I don’t know. Maybe I feel like I shouldn’t be with you because I look like this. Maybe it’s because I feel like you should be with someone better, more beautiful and more...suited to be stood by your side? And because I feel like this, I find myself being difficult. I don’t want to be. I don’t want you to leave me because I’m being like this, but I also know there’s a breaking point and you’ll hit yours.”

“There is only so much trying a person can do before they feel like giving up.”

“Do you?”

“No, I want to work on us, but I need to know if it’s worth doing or if you don’t want to. I can only do so much without getting it back.”

You pause, lapsing into silence for a moment or two before you speak again. “I want to, but I know I need to work on myself a lot too. If you’re happy to work with me, then please, stay. I might look at therapy in some way, someone to speak about the way I’m feeling. My thoughts keep coming back to the way I look, and I know deep down that only I can change that. I can’t keep punishing you for my own thoughts.”

I can’t keep punishing you for my own thoughts.

In this single thought, you summarise everything. “It’s not that I’m not happy with you. I am. I know it doesn’t seem like I am, I’ve just kept waiting for you to leave for someone better.”

“I won’t.”

“Tonight, I re-read those letters that you’ve written for me, and I realised that. But having you say this helps. This was a conversation we needed to have and would have had to once you were back because I don’t want to keep being like this. So set on a path of destruction for the sake of my insecurities.”

“Come here?” Eric encourages, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your back. “I love you. I will stay here as long as you need and want me. I need you to help yourself though baby, because I can’t make you love yourself. I love you, I love your body and I always have. I just wish you’d let your barriers down enough for me to fully show you without you pulling away before I can.”

“I know I’m hard work and a handful in more than one way. But I love that you keep trying and that you’ve called me out on my shit tonight.” You snuggle into him, relief washing over you with every new sentence that the two of you speak. This needed to be said. You needed a wake-up call like this to put things into perspective. “I’m sorry that you’ve missed your flight. You’re still going though, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah, I do. And you might want to sit down for this.” You give him a small smile and watch as he pulls away from you, slowly edging backwards until he sits on the kitchen chair; his eyes fully fixed on your face as he tries to hold back a nervous smile. “I think we should find someone to dog sit. I think it’s time I came with you on holiday. This could be the perfect chance to try an-”

“Yes. I’ll find someone. Just. Yes.” Eric closes the gap between the two of you, your face is between his hands, his lips on yours as he speaks words between kisses.

___

The request:

1- With Eric. You've always been chubby and when you grew, the wide hips became wider, your boobs and your butt became bigger. And you always struggled with your confidence, always trying to cover up, to disguise your shape. Somehow you met Eric at a party, feeling careless and free, obviously drunk, and made your move. He loves you, your laugh, your humor, your body and all he wants is to be with you. You love him too, but you can't be totally comfortable around him. Every time he pulls you 2- to sit on his lap, you always stay still, doing your best to never put all your weight into his legs ( those powerful legs 😏) and get up five minutes later. Whenever you two go out to eat or visit friends, you eat the bare minimum, wearing spanx and staying still, keeping your posture. If you're ever going to have sex, It has to be with the lights off. You always try to hide from fans, and from paparazzi. Everybody thinks you're beautiful but you. Six months together and Eric starts 3- To notice your behavior, he can't understand as much as he tries, he tries to be more a better boyfriends and even starts to buy you flowers, to leave notes in the morning. He wants to show you he appreciates you and he is proud to be with you. And at the same time you compare yourself with the other Wags, to Dele's girlfriend, the supermodel. You can't shake the feeling that he is gonna break up with you to be with someone better.

4. when he calls to spend holidays together she doesn’t, she comes up with excuses until one day he shows up and confronts her. Ends in smut.

[footballffbarbiex]

The Soft Kiss Leading Into A Stronger Kiss

Player: Eric Dier Words: 495 Type: Fluff Warning: happy just married Eric to get ahead with updates for here and read exclusive content for nowhere else, there’s patreon from $1.

Eric has swept you away from your wedding guests, taking your hand and helping carry your dress train up to the wedding suite. You’ve already been in this room; this was where you got ready this morning. The excitement and nausea at 7 am this morning. So much so, you could barely keep your breakfast down. You’d sipped the champagne, not wanting it to go to your head but it gave you something to do to try and control the shaking of your hands and did help to settle your nerves. Something which your make up artist assures you is completely normal, and she’d never met a calm bride or groom on their wedding day.

“I do want to marry him.” You’d said in the steadiest voice you’d had all day.

“I know. And that’s why you’re nervous. It’s a big deal. After today it’s all over, no more wedding prep, no more hoping it goes to plan. You’ll be married. Enjoy it.”

And enjoy it you had. You’d tried not to panic when a few slip-ups had happened, and just embraced the day, evening and everything in between. Once the vows were exchanged, kisses had been had, papers signed and petals had been thrown over the two of you, your nerves had settled tremendously. You’d basked in the love of your friends and family. You’d danced, sang, and ate your way to happiness.

Eric had looked at you in the same way you imagine you’d looked at him. Any opportunity to touch you, he had. He’d kissed you any chance he could. Your hands, fingers, lips, nose, cheeks, forehead, hair. It didn’t matter. He had to kiss you.

And now the two of you are alone in the room, you’re hoping he’ll continue to put those kisses to use.

“Did I mention how stunning you look?”

“Stunning?”

“Beautiful.”

“You flatter me.”

“You’re my wife.” Eric replies before narrowing his eyes, “you make it sound as though I never complimented you before.”

“Maybe you have.” You give him a shrug and throw him a glance over your shoulder.

“You know I have.” The knuckles of his fingers brush down your bare arms and you can feel the exhale of his breath against your shoulder.

The fingers of his other hand graze your cheek, dropping down slightly to your jaw. Your eyes lock with his as you turn. His thumb slips to beneath your chin, the hand that was trailing down your arm leaves your wrist and moves to your waist, fingers opening up and splaying out over the base of your back.

His lips meet yours, soft, welcoming and leave you needing more. Your fingers tug at the short strands of his hair, pressing yourself into his hold, your chest against his as a soft moan leaves your mouth. Eric pulls away breaking the kiss just so. The tip of his nose rubbing gently against the tip of yours, his lips ghosting your own and yet you can feel the smile that’s curving them. “I love you, Mrs Dier,” he whispers, the sound of it doing things to you more than what speaking it louder could have ever done. Tingles cascade down your spine, goosebumps threaten to prickle at your skin and your stomach flips at the sound of Eric’s voice detailing you as his. All you can do is pull him closer, press your lips to your husbands and kiss him with everything you have.

if you’re crossed out means that tumblr can’t link you or you’ve changed your blog name. let me know if you’d like to be added :)

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_______

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