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#marcos llorente fanfic
percervall · 2 years
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if your cascade ocean wave blues come
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Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 1084 Warnings: Detailed description of a panic attack, dealing with mental health struggles, smut (just teeny bit), cockwarming (if you squint) A/N: I had this idea for a while but couldn't figure out where to begin until it hit me one Sunday and I wrote the whole thing pretty much in one sitting
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You know before you even look at the clock that it’s early in the morning. It’s still pitch black, the world outside of your bedroom is very much still asleep. If only you were that lucky.  You can feel the worry gnawing at the edges of you as it takes up more and more space. Sighing, you toss and turn, trying to find the sweet spot on your pillow that will shut your brain up. It had been quiet up until the moment it woke you up, the pre-bedtime activities enough to tire you out, your anxiety riddled brain peacefully going along. Unfortunately for you, your brain wins this fight; thoughts begin running a million miles an hour and you can feel the panic slowly clawing its way into your chest and up your throat. 
You’re trying to fight the unravelling with logic, but it’s to no avail when your head keeps pelting you with what ifs and shouldn’t haves. You try to keep your breathing even, hoping that the war that’s raging in your body won’t wake up your boyfriend, but the feeling of someone squeezing your throat closed does absolutely nothing to help you do so. 
In.. out.. you tell yourself, counting your breaths as hot tears burn at the corners of your eyes and you swallow down a sob. You squeeze your eyes shut, a hand clamped over your mouth as you try every single coping strategy your therapist taught you, but nothing works –the failure only adds to the panic that’s tearing its way through you, paralysing you in the process as the only thought that crosses your mind is I can’t breathe. 
You know it’s too late to take the sleeping tablets she prescribed you with; if you take one now, you’ll be knocked out for the next 9 hours. The weighted blanket you would fall back on is still at your own flat, seeing as you had forgotten to bring it. You hadn’t thought you would need it, things had been going so well ever since you switched meds –too well apparently. Right now you could kick yourself for your optimism. Granted, things had been a lot worse at the beginning of your relationship with Marcos, where the anxiety had felt debilitating at times and you even wondered what he saw in you in the first place. Thankfully he was quick to dispel all your doubts and assure you that if anything, it made him want to love you harder, fiercer. 
Trying the breathing exercise once more, you let out a shaky breath but it’s not working. A frustrated sob escapes as an arm wraps itself around your waist, pulling you closer. 
“‘S wrong?” your boyfriend mutters in your ear, still half asleep. You try to answer him, but the panic has made it impossible to form a coherent thought. Instead you let out the sobs you’d tried to bite back. 
“Hey,” Marcos says, sounding a lot more awake now, “hey, I’ve got you.” 
You allow him to turn you around, to pull you against him. You claw at his chest, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips serving as a small reminder of what lulled you to sleep in the first place. Marcos keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear, keeps running his fingers through your hair. You can feel his heart beating in his chest where your fingertips rest against his skin. The steady thud thud thud provides you with the lifeline you need in order to break through the haze of anxiety, as you slowly, so very slowly, return into your body. You realise how tense your muscles are as you try to relax into him, how you feel an ache whenever you move your legs, serving as another reminder as to what served as a sleeping aid. 
Marcos rubs slow little circles over your shoulder, the touch enough to break through the last of the fog in your brain. Your body feels heavy all of a sudden as the tension drains out of you. Taking a deep breath, you exhale slowly, before opening your eyes. A dull ache is settling behind your eyes and you know that it’ll feel like you’ve been hit by a truck when you wake up tomorrow, but you’ll gladly deal with that over the aftermath of a full blown panic attack that would lead you down the scary spiralling thoughts rabbit hole. 
Marcos looks at you, his eyes swimming with concern and adoration for you. 
“Had an anxiety attack?” he asks and you nod.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” you whisper, “just want to stop thinking.” Marcos smiles sleepily and pulls you even closer. 
“I thought you had fucked me dumb,” you confess, voice small, cheeks burning and core throbbing as more memories flood your head of how he had pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. Marcos’ chuckle reverberates through your chest and you can almost make out his cocky grin at your disguised compliment. 
“Let me try something. Am too tired to fuck you dumb as you so eloquently put it,” he says, pulling your thigh over his hip, “but maybe this’ll do the trick,” he adds and gently, so very gently nudges his semi-hard cock into you. You gasp, the feeling of him stretching you is almost overwhelming. He slides in easily, you’re still dripping from earlier with your own release mingled with his cum. Marcos holds you against him, one hand buried underneath his pillow while the other grips the fleshy part of where thigh meets hip. Your breath comes out panting as you get used to the feeling of him, fighting the urge to roll your hips.
“God, you always feel so good,” Marcos all but groans. You can’t help but moan in agreement, the feeling of being so full enough to make your brain stop whirling. It forces you to remain firmly in your body and out of your head. Marcos allows you to snuggle into him, and you let out a content little sigh as the exhaustion tugs at you. 
“Think you can sleep like this?” Marcos murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You nod, letting out a soft hum in agreement as your eyes struggle to remain open.
“Thank you,” you mumble. 
“Mm, more than welcome mi flor. Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, and it’s all the encouragement you need to fall asleep, feeling so warm and safe wrapped up in the cocoon his body creates for you. 
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ngl, I was nervous to post this one. Having dealt with mental health problems myself (and having suffered from panic attacks), it hit a little close to home. Know that if you recognise yourself in this fic, you are worthy of help and love.
please let me know what you think, your comments are like breadcrumbs for the fanfic goblins in my brain (or maybe they're ducks. who knows?)
Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir
If you want to be added to the tag list click here
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footballerimaginess · 2 years
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Secret Admirer
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credit to @atleticomadriddaily for the gif x  Valentine's Day Prompts 1. "I think you have secret admirer" For the Valentine’s Day prompts: no. 1 with Marcos Llorente? Maybe she works for the club? requested by @percervall  Marcos Llorente  Word Count: 400  As you were sitting in your office, sighing loudly as you saw how much paperwork was in your incomplete tray.  Being the player’s PA, you had to help them all when it was necessary. 
As you heard a knock on the door, you paused as you ushered whoever was the door into your office.  “y/n” you looked up as you saw Marcos standing looking at you with the biggest smile as his glassy blue eyes watched you.  “Hi, can I help you?” you smiled as he nodded and sat down.  “Just hadn’t seen you in a while” you raised your eyebrows, feeling slightly confused.  “Marcos, I saw you about an hour ago when I walked in and you gave me a hug. I am not sure if your memory is going, but that doesn’t sound very good to me” you smirked as he playfully swatted your hand away from him.  “Hey that’s mean, no I just wanted to see that pretty face of yours” you blushed.  “Bet you say that to all the girls don’t you” you teased as someone knocked on the door as Marcos nodded and pulled his hand away from yours quickly.  “Will you be able to sort out these files for us please” you nodded as you were handed a folder full of paperwork.  “Thank you” smiled.  A few hours had passed, yet another knock on the door as you looked up you saw one of the reception staff with a bunch of flowers.  “Hi, these are for you” you grinned as she handed over the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.  “Thank you so much” you smiled as you noticed that there was a note stuck in the middle of the flowers.  The note just had a heart on with no indication on who it was from at all.  “I think you have a secret admirer” you looked up as you heard the voice coming from the door.  “Oh do I?” you smirked as you put the flowers in some water.  “Yes you do, think you’ll have to find out maybe they are closer than you think” he smirked.  “Huh? what are you trying to say? are you the secret admirer?” you laughed as a smile appeared on Marcos’s face.  “Maybe, guess you’ll just have to wait and see” he teased as he left the room, leaving you slightly confused as to what was happening now.  Taglist: @footballffbarbiex @football-and-fanfics @odegaardsreds @mrseriksen @footballxixstars @simpingmyassoff​ @0alanasworld0 @ghwoticz 
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footballffbarbiex · 2 years
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Thinkin’ Of A Few Things
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player: marcos llorente words: 874 request and warnings: Uhhh a smut one when shes congratulating him for the title win is a classic... or maybe using this beach pic? She’s wearing the tiniest bikini she could find, he’s not dealing well with it, maybe some really intense makeout at the sea and they end up rushing to the hotel where she’s thrown on the bed and he only pulls the bikini bottoms aside cause he wants to fuck her with that stupid tiny bikini ON.
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With the sun beating down upon the beachgoers, the smell of heat, sea and sun cream is lingering in the air. Away from the Spanish sun, and tucked away in a secluded spot on a Greek island, their villa was private with its own access to the beach. Partially under a parasol, she stretches out and sighs contently, feeling for Marcos beside her. He looked peaceful, laid with his eyes closed and for a moment, she thought he might have fallen asleep but the small smile that curves his lips as her fingers touch his says otherwise.
“I was thinking of taking a dip, want to join me?” She asks, knowing submerging herself beneath the cool surface would feel amazing right now.
“You really think I’m going to turn down the excuse to have my hands on you?” He chances a peek, keeping one eye closed as he shields his eyes from the sun.
“You could surprise me.” She gives a small one shouldered shrug as she sits up and adjusts her bikini top, fully aware of his lingering stares as she gets to her feet and moves quickly towards the cool, shallow waves.
She’d purposely chosen this one. The tiniest bikini she could find which still contained her. There’d been a few she liked the look of but after trying them on, she decided that one false move would end up with her vagina on show or more than a nip slip to grace anyone’s sight. As much as she loved the ease of access that a bikini brought, she didn’t want the whole world seeing what only Marcos should. This left something to the imagination, but only just, and she knew that Marcos' imagination was going to dirty places.
Wading deeper into the water, it laps against her thighs as she continues, the sound of Marcos hitting the water behind her now audible. His arms are around her in seconds, his chin brushing against her shoulder as they walk closely into deeper water until she bends, dipping her body up to her shoulders beneath the surface. He mirrors her, pulling her body closer to him as she drapes her arms over his broad shoulders.
“Looking a bit cold there, baby,” she grins at him as she notices his lip tremble and the shiver that ripples through him.
“Just slightly,” he grins at her, his hands smoothing over her skin and down her back. Marcos has been in high spirits since Atleti had won the league.
“Mmmm, anything I can do to help with that problem?”
“I can think of a few things, yeah.” Marcos rubs his nose against the tip of hers until she tilts her face up a little more and their lips meet.
The kisses that follow have little time to start off slow before their need takes over. What was slow yet deep kisses pick up the pace when Marcos runs his hands over her thighs and pulls her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. She runs her fingers over his nape with one hand and strokes over his muscular back with her other.
His own hands hold her in place, fingers occasionally tugs at the strings of her bikini top. It’s teasing but it’s all it is, an empty threat. She knows deep down that he wouldn’t undo it, but her body still fully anticipates the feeling of release from them. The water lapping at her skin, cooling where it licks, the feel of his hands, the way his mouth still claims hers and the feeling of his erection begins to nudge against her ass all contribute to the fire in her belly that flickers out to the rest of her. She tries to concentrate on his mouth and only his mouth but when he bucks up to her, the whine that she pours into his mouth escalates everything.
“Not here.”
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When pushed, she lands on the bed with a soft bounce. His hands push open her knees and he’s between her thighs in what feels like seconds. He slaps her hands away when she begins to try to take the bottoms off, the expression on his face tells her not to try it. Two fingers pull her bikini bottoms to the side, the wetness that makes her folds glisten is a different wetness that made her bikini so.
“Don’t worry,” he says as he dips his hand into his shorts and pulls his cock free. “I’m gonna taste this pussy soon enough. But for now,” he runs the tip of his dick up and down her folds, trying to coat as much of the soft dome in as much of her essence as he can.
“Come on baby, no teasing. Mmmm, just fuck me.” She circles her hips, grinding her pussy against him and bites her lip as he finally pushes through her folds and enters her. Marcos keeps his hand that exposes her where it is as he begins to thrust, needing to watch as she takes him. Every so often he’ll look back up at her face before the sound of her taking every inch of him that he wants to give pulls his attention back to between her legs once more.
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lxndonorris · 4 years
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hips don’t lie - Marcos Llorente
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Y/N x Marcos Llorente
Theme: Smut (you’ve been warned)
getting touchy with Marcos, during a training session. x
word count: 870
Marcos is leading you through the tunnels of Wanda Metropolitano, while his squad is taking a break from today’s training session. Quickly, he’s escorting you, sneakily, into the locker room. “Marcos, what are you doing?” You say, trying not to giggle while he closes the door behind you. He turns around, smirking playfully. “I just, need this.” Marcos walks closer and before you can protest, he kisses you wildly.
“Babé.” You say, trying to catch your breath while he places kisses all over your neck. “What if someone sees us.” Suddenly, he stops his face just inches away from yours. “Let them watch.” He hisses, and you raise an eyebrow. “You’re that needy?” You say snarkily, your eyes get stuck at his soft lips. “I always feel like that, when I look at you,” Marcos says, his hands firmly on your waist, as he pulls you even closer, his lips brushing over yours.
“Would you help me?” He breathes against your mouth, making you gasp. “Okay.” You say breathlessly before he kisses you once more. “I promise it will be quick.” He giggles, while his hands find their way between your legs, stroking you through your jeans. But then, you press a finger on his lips. “Let me, take care of that.” You say sassily, as your hands slide under his shirt, stroking his chest gently.
Marcos smirks again, while he softly pushes backward until you reach the lockers. “Naughty.” You hiss, your eyebrows twitching once and your hands still tracing the outlines of his muscles, tensing at your touch. “Says the one, currently under my shirt.” He licks his lips, his eyes still stuck at yours. “Do you want more?” You say quietly, your hands running down his body until they reach his tight sweatpants. 
“Pretty please.” He says, looking down at your hand now tracing the outlines of the swelling already forming in his pants. Leaning back against the cold locker doors, you kiss him one more time, feeling his scruffy beard tickling your skin. “You owe me.” Marcos nods in agreement, still looking at your hand, stroking him harder and harder.
“Say it.” You smirk, lifting his chin to make him look into your face. “I owe you.” He says, his face softens instantly. “Good.” You slip into his pants, feeling him bulging into the palm of your hand through the fabric of his underwear. “Oh yeah.” He growls deeply as he starts to kiss your neck again. “You enjoy it?” You whisper into his ears while you slide inside his underwear, feeling his dick twitching at your touch.
“Fuck.” Marcos breathes down your neck, his whole body stiffening as he presses his body against yours. Wincing at the pressure he’s putting on you, you take his dick into your hand. “Your hands are cold.” He groans angrily, still kissing your neck passionately. “I’ll heat you up.” You smirk again before you begin to move your hand rhythmically, increasing the strength and pace steadily. His whole body reacts to your swift moves, with him moaning softly, breathing down your neck. 
His soft moans and warm breath giving you goosebumps, and you can’t resist to moan yourself. You keep on moving your hand, rougher and rougher, feeling him getting harder with every second. “Don’t stop now.” He growls, grinding his chest against yours. “I won’t.” You say sassily, increasing the pace even more. “Fuuuck.” Marcos groans, leaning his head back slightly.
After keeping the pace up for a little while longer, you can feel his full length tenting in his sweatpants, while you’re watching him moan in pleasure. “So clo-” He tries to finish his sentence, but gets interrupted by a long and deep growl, his voice sounding guttural and husky. “Give it to me, baby.” You say, now your other hand stroking his chest, down to his waist. “Y/N. You’re amazing.” He says, now regaining his composure just for a few seconds before he has to steady himself by pressing his hands against the locker.
Smirking, you can feel him being close to cumming, but he isn’t quite ready yet. With one hand on his cock, your other hand still stroking his chest, you put even more pressure on him once you start to rub your knee against his thighs. Marcos instantly reacts to the waves of pleasure you’re sending through his body, and now, it doesn’t take long for him to release himself, groaning loudly, his husky voice echoing through the whole room.
“This feels good.” He says, now kissing you breathlessly. “Thank you.” You gently rub your nose against his. “My pleasure.” He smirks slightly before he separates from you, taking a few steps to his locker. You watch him take a spare pair of underwear and sweatpants out of his bag, making you raise an eyebrow. “I see, you came prepared.” Walking closer to him, you enjoy the sight of him, changing into clean clothes.
“I am always prepared.” Marcos winks, and puts his clothes back on, just in time for one of the staff members to enter the room. “There you are, we were looking for you.” The two of you exchange a knowing look before you head back to the training session.
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percervall · 1 year
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because I fell in love with your marcos llorente fic
I am begging for one with 💚 or 🤎 or 🤍
Thank you so much ives 🧡
you're half of me
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Pairing: Marcos Llorente x fem!reader Words: 1066 Warnings: none, weddings In which you and Marcos tie the knot
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Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d end up here. Well, that’s not entirely true, you’d just never imagine yourself in this role, be on this side of the story. Your hands feel clammy and your heart is racing as nerves settle in the hollow of your chest. It’s a good kind of nervousness for a change, there’s an excitement there that reminds you of childhood, of jumping off a cliff without knowing whether the water would be cold or warm as you dive in, head first. Taking another steadying breath, you tighten your grip on your bouquet and lift your eyes when the doors open. The string quartet is playing the song the two of you had picked out, a song that meant so much to the both of you. You can hear the ends of conversations die down as the people the two of you love so dearly talk in hushed voices. You can see both your families, recognise all of his teammates and their partners, spot a couple of your closest friends but it all fades to the background when your eyes adjust to the late afternoon sun and your eyes meet his. Marcos. 
He looks good in his suit, the navy blue matching the ocean lapping away just beyond the walls of the finca you had chosen as the backdrop for this day. His hair is styled to perfection, and he gives you this smile that is half mischief, half soft adoration, and it leaves you with butterflies in your stomach similar to that moment you realised you had fallen deeply in love with him. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to see him as tears threaten to spill over your lash line. Marcos holds out a hand, biting his lip now, and you can tell through the haze of unshed tears that he is just as choked up as you are. You pass your bouquet to your best friend and take Marcos’ hand in yours. You watch as he takes in all the little details of your dress, the delicate embroidery all over the soft ivory chiffon fabric and lace trim of the short sleeves, the way the neckline plunges until just below your sternum where the fabric flows all the way down with tiny buttons running down until just below your knees. It’s perhaps sexier than you ever dared to imagine yourself wearing, but from the moment you laid eyes on it, you knew it was meant to be your dress. 
“God, you’re so beautiful mi flor,” he sighs, sounding almost reverent as the setting sun twinkles in his eyes, reminding you of how it would glitter on the surface of the ocean, as it highlights his features in liquid gold.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, either,” you reply softly, almost drowning in the blue of his eyes. He squeezes your hand as you both turn towards the officiant. 
The whole ceremony washes over you in a blur of laughter and barely choked back tears. You manage to keep it together until it’s time to exchange vows. Marcos signals with a squeeze for you to go first. Clearing your throat, you take the paper from the officiant.
“My dearest Marcos, I won’t lie and say that it was easy to write all of this. How do you tell the person you can’t imagine doing life without what they mean to you? And then I found this poem that says exactly how I feel about you,” you start before swallowing around a lump in your throat, “I crave you, /I crave you in the most innocent form / To take long walks with you in the dawn / And watch the day break with your hand in mine / To watch your eyes when they look at me / I crave you, / I crave you to place kisses on my forehead / And to watch you sleep in my arms on stormy nights / To say goodnight to you every day of my life / To hear you say you still adore me even at my worst / Damn… I crave you, / In ways that I just want to be next to you / And that if I had to choose my best day ever / My finest hour.. My wildest dream come true / It would be with you… / over and over / again and again / through and through.” 
You fold the paper in half again, giving it to the officiant before you slide the gold band in place. Marcos gives your fingers another squeeze, brushing away your tears with his thumb. He then pulls a sheet of folded paper from the inside pocket of his blazer.
“I also struggled to find the words to express how absolutely head-over-heels in love I am with you, until I remembered you reading me this poem when we spent a rainy morning in bed,” Marcos says, taking a steadying breath, “I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, / or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: / I love you as one loves certain obscure things, / secretly, between the shadow and the soul. / I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  / I love you directly without problems or pride: / I love you like this because I don’t know any other way / to love, / except in this form in which I am not nor are you, / so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, / so close that your eyes close with my dreams.” 
As soon as Marcos started reading your favourite poem by your favourite poet, you were in floods, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. The fact that he remembered something you had told him during the beginning of your relationship fills you with such warmth; it makes you feel both seen and heard. Marcos puts his vows back in his pocket and takes the other ring, sliding it in place below your engagement ring. It barely registers when the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, but Marcos is quick to pull you closer. He gently rests his hands against your cheeks, fingers curling around your jaw as he kisses you with such a deep undercurrent of love and admiration, it makes your head spin, leaving you breathless. You wrap your hands around his wrists, tethering yourself to him in a similar way to the gold around your fingers will forever symbolise. 
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It's been a while since I wrote a wedding, and while it's always tricky to figure out certain elements/details, I do love it so thank your for giving me the opportunity!
The poems referenced are I Crave You by Esther Haddasah Sendeza and Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda
Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me
Wrote this as part of a kisses challenge I'm taking part in this year. Feel free to send in a request or suggestions!
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percervall · 2 years
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and it sounds just like a song
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Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 738 Warnings: Smut from the first paragraph, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f) A/N: I blame Atleti's admin for this, they're feeding the brain rot about this slut of a man. I wrote this in a couple of hours and barely edited it so please be kind @mercedesjpg hope you enjoy!
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He hears her before he sees her. Marcos can’t help the grin that spreads on his face as he opens the door into the living room to see his girlfriend on the couch, wearing nothing but an old Atleti t-shirt, back arching and body trembling as an orgasm tears through her. 
“What a sight to come home to,” he comments, closing the door behind him. He leans against it, arms crossed as he keeps watching her.
“All your fault,” she all but moans as she comes down, hips still bucking as she keeps the toy pressed against her clit, “oh fuck..” 
A whine leaves her mouth as she throws her head back. The vibrations against her already sensitive clit are enough to send her flying again. He can feel his cock straining against his tracksuit bottoms as he watches her. 
“How is this my fault baby, you’re the one with a vibrator against her dripping pussy,” he coos, moving closer. He takes the toy from her hand and drags it through her folds, down to her opening, collecting her wetness, before moving it back up to her clit.
“It’s your slutty behaviour. You might-.. Fuck… you might as well show up to training in speedos next time,” she manages to say as she pants. Marcos smirks and presses a button to increase the intensity of the vibrations, making her cry out as he drags it over her clit.
“Sun’s out, thighs out. Not my fault the social media team captures it every time,” he comments and keeps the toy pressed against her.
“Oh God.. Marcos.. I’m gonna.. So close…” she mumbles, as the muscles in her thighs tremble. 
“One more, let go, hermosa..” he murmurs, watching as she comes undone for the third time. 
“More.. I need-.. Please.. Marcos..” she whines, not finishing any of her sentences, thoughts inchorrent as she comes down from her high, hips moving in slow circles. 
“What do you need, baby?” he all  but purrs, turning the vibrations down to the lowest setting. 
“Need more.. Need you.. Please, fuck me.. Marcos.. Please..” He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Marcos turns the toy off, dropping it to the floor before stripping. He then helps her undress before turning her over onto her stomach. 
“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” Marcos says, holding onto her hips as he slowly enters her from behind. She can only moan in return, the feeling of him stretching her almost overwhelming. 
“Please..” she whispers, fingers desperately clutching at the couch cushions. Marcos hums and sets an unrelenting pace, filling her so deep she sees stars. 
“Yes…” she moans, eyes fluttering closed as he gives her what she needs. She tilts her hips ever so slightly, making him hit that spot inside her.
“Fuck! Right there.. Don’t-.. Don’t stop…” 
“Feel so good baby. Gonna be a good girl for me and let me fuck you? Just let me use this pretty pussy?” Marcos’ words send a jolt of lust down her and she can only nod. His fingers dig into her as he gives her what she begged for. Marcos keeps murmuring praise and absolutely filthy things, half of which barely even register in her lust-clouded brain. She can feel her orgasm building. She knows it won’t be as gentle as the previous ones, they all helped build up this tidal wave that’s threatening to pull her under. Marcos is about to absolutely ruin her.
“Marcos-.. Can-.. Need.. Please can I cum?” she begs, her voice breaking with a sob of pure need. 
“That’s it baby, let go for me.. Need to feel you cum,” he all but grunts, reaching a hand down to rub tight little circles over her sensitive bud. Her orgasm washes over her, pulling her under as her vision blurs, body trembling with the intensity of it. Marcos is quick to follow, spilling into her with a groan.
As she returns into her body, she can hear the echo of someone screaming bouncing off the walls in the living room. Marcos lets go of her hips, pulling out and picking up his discarded shirt from the floor to help her clean up. She clings to him as she allows him to turn her onto her back. 
“Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes still unfocussed as she looks at him.
“Mm, you’re welcome hermosa. I love you,” he replies softly, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 
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Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir
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percervall · 2 years
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boyfriend material masterlist
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With February right around the corner, here's the masterlist/posting schedule for the boyfriend prompts. I'll update them as I go. They're not all going to be posted in order, it just worked out that way for the first four 😅 The plan is to post them during the weekend at 10:00CET
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amor de mi vida / Rodrigo De Paul
give me love and compassion / Daniel Ricciardo
what if I love you? / Jordan Henderson
want you to be the last one I ever love / Darwin Núñez
Cuddling / Christian Erikson - Marcos Llorente - Antoine Griezmann
I thought I knew what love was (what did I know?) / Marcos Llorente
my mind finds peace (in the shade of you) / Kostas Tsimikas
kindness & gratitude / Virgil van Dijk
Surprising you at work / Andy Robertson
Own idea / Virgil van Dijk - Kostas Tsimikas
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percervall · 2 years
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I thought I knew what love was (what did I know?)
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Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 950 Warnings: Fluff, descriptions of anxiety related to public perception (minor) Request: PDA - PDA with Marcos please, and maybe it annoys people when it happens A/N: tweaked it a little bit, hope you like it!
title from First Aid Kit's The Boys of Summer
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You had never been one for public displays of affection beyond holding hands. It had always made you uncomfortable when you saw others do it, so why subject those around you to the same discomfort? Although your perspective did shift a little the moment you started dating your current boyfriend. There were times where you psychically ached to feel his lips against your skin as his lips curled up in that trademark smirk that always gave you butterflies, where your fingers itched to feel him –any part of him. You had become the thing you had always tried to avoid, and there was a small part of you that hated how needy you had become. Fortunately your boyfriend never seemed to mind; if anything he leaned heavily into it, always whispering encouragements in your ear whenever people looked at you with something you had begun to label as a milder form of disgust. Let them look baby, he’d whisper, they’re just jealous.
And maybe Marcos was right, but it was hard to not let it affect you. Whenever he leaned in to kiss you when you were around others, you’d quickly turn your head so his lips would land on your cheek or hair instead. Your heart broke a tiny bit every time he’d frown at you as his lips landed anywhere that was not your lips. The final straw was when you dropped him off for practice and you had pretty much refused to kiss him when you saw his teammates and members of staff walking towards the building. Marcos’ brows furrowed but he didn’t say a word, instead he pressed a brief kiss to your temple. The shame and hurt you felt on his behalf sat heavy in the pit of your stomach for the rest of the day, making it difficult to focus on your work. You tried your hardest to block it out, burying yourself in financial statements instead.
When you pulled into the parking lot of the Ciudad Deportiva at the end of the afternoon, Marcos was already waiting for you. You killed the engine and rolled the window down when he walked over to you.
“Come with me. Please?” he said, holding out his hand. Confused as to what he needed to show you, you got out of the car and took his hand and let him guide you into the training grounds. Most of the team was still in the dining hall, thermos of hot water littered around the room, as the boys lounged on the couches. Marcos pulled you closer, your chest pressed against his.
“I’m going to kiss you, and you’re not allowed to pull away,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, not knowing how else to respond. Marcos smiled that cheeky smile that always sent your heart racing and titled your face ever so slightly with a forefinger under your chin. His lips brushed against yours and your eyes fluttered closed, fingers curling into fists around the material of his long-sleeved training shirt. He hummed, deepening the kiss. You melted into him, still holding onto his shirt. The room around you faded to nothing, you were solely focussed on the feeling of Marcos’ lips on yours –tongue seeking entrance, of the way his hands squeezed your hips, of how the scent of his cologne enveloped you both. You broke the kiss, needing to come up for air, cheeks heating up. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there for a moment as you gathered your thoughts and tried to get your racing heart back under control. Marcos turned you to look at the room.
“See that?” he murmured in your ear as you looked at his teammates. You tried to figure out if anything had changed, but they were all still engrossed in their own conversations or phones.
“See what?” you asked, confused as to what he meant.
“Exactly,” Marcos said, “Anyone mind if I just stand here and kiss my girlfriend for a while?” he then asked his teammates. You would’ve covered his mouth with your hand if you had been able to, but Marcos had you pinned to his body. All you could do was stand there, horrified at the brashness of your boyfriend. 
“Just don’t block the exit and if you decide to pull a Rodri, please do it somewhere I won’t have to see. Once was bad enough,” Jan commented as he walked past you. 
“Oi, that’s on you for barging in without knocking first!” Rodrigo replied, his voice laced with humour at his friend’s discomfort. 
“You decided to use the physio room for a mid-training session quickie, how was I supposed to know? Those doors come with locks, use ‘em,” Jan retorted, eyebrow raised. 
You stood there, watching them bicker and tease one another as if it was a tennis match. You felt rather than heard Marcos’ chuckle as he pulled you closer again. 
“Please, never turn away from my kisses again? I love you and I want to be able to show you just how much. The people who matter don’t mind, and those that mind don’t matter,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You nodded and hid your face in his chest.
“‘M sorry… I should’ve talked to you about how I was feeling instead of shutting you out. Am just not used to PDA, so it might take me a while. I want to, I want nothing more than to kiss you whenever I feel like it, but just.. Baby steps?” you all but whispered. 
“Baby steps,” Marcos promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.
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Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir
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percervall · 2 years
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Prompts
in bold have already been requested
Decorating the tree
Dancing in the snow
Present shopping
Gift giving
Making a gingerbread house
Snowball fight
Mistletoe
Christmas baking
Christmas market
Making snowmen
Watching Christmas movies
Dancing to Christmas music
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Requested so far
Kostas Tsimikas
Queen Anne/Aramis
Andy Robertson
Virgil van Dijk
Antoine Griezmann
Rodrigo De Paul
Trent Alexander-Arnold
Darwin Nunez
Ruben Dias
Marcos Llorente
Fernando Torres
John Stones
Kostas Tsimikas
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percervall · 2 years
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a holly jolly christmas
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Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 698 Warnings: None, fluff Request: Christmas baking - do it the way you like This might be one of the most domestic fics I've written in a while. Had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you like it anon!
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The scent of cinnamon and ginger greeted him when he walked in the door.
“Babe?” Marcos called out, dropping his training gear by the stairs to be taken up later.
“Kitchen! Did you get my text?” 
“Yeah, found the sugar,” he replied as he walked into the kitchen, placing the sugar on the counter. She threw a smile at him over her shoulder as she placed a rack into the oven.
“I could swear we had more in the pantry,” she commented, turning around and setting the timer.
“Who are you planning on feeding?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I promised to take some to Mrs. Álvarez, the neighbours are getting some instead of a gift as well. Antoine wanted a box, so did Jan and Koke. Oh, and Cholo wanted some as well!” Marcos' heart swelled at her excitement. She worked at the library and was responsible for setting up the reading programmes at the local primary schools, but loved baking and had always joked that if the library had to close down due to budget cuts, she’d start her own bakery. When his teammates realised she was also really good at it, they had been quick to take her up on the offer to buy small batches of holiday treats from her. 
“Of course Anto asked for your gingerbread biscuits,” Marcos commented, wiping away a dusting of flour from her cheek. “Can I help?” She shook her head. 
“No, not right now. How about you go shower and I’ll get the second batch going,” she said. Marcos gave her a quick kiss and went upstairs. 
With his hair still wet, but now dressed in his favourite joggers and threadbare jumper, Marcos rejoined her in the kitchen. She was swaying ever so slightly to the Christmas music playing in the background as she weighed out the flour. Marcos smiled and tied an apron around himself as he came standing next to her.
“Alright, put me to work,” he said and quickly washed his hands.
“Could you roll out the dough that’s in the fridge and then cut out the biscuits? There’s cutters over there. Just choose one you like,” she said, pointing to her right. Marcos nodded and got the dough out of the fridge, grabbing the rolling pin as well. His parents had gifted her one for her birthday with spacing bands to help roll out the dough evenly and to the right thickness. 
“How was training?” she asked, turning on her stand mixer.
“Cold. Like, I know we’re nearing winter, but it always catches me off guard when the temperature drops below 10 degrees,” Marcos said while rolling out the dough. She chuckled, looking up at him. 
“It’s a good thing you don’t play for an English or German club, babe.” Marcos stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh. 
“But other than cold, it was good. Got two more sessions left before the final game of the year.” 
“And the Christmas party! Did you manage to talk to Álvaro about carpooling?”
Marcos nodded and put the rolling pin down. “I did, he said he would ask his wife and let me know either tonight or tomorrow. Snowflake or Christmas tree?” 
“Uhm, the trees I think. They’re easier to decorate for children, so we can put a few of those in the box for Anto,” she replied, turning off the mixer and wrapping the dough in cling film to chill. Wiping her hands on her apron, she joined him and helped move the cut out biscuits to a baking tray. 
They worked in relative quiet for a while until the first three batches of gingerbread biscuits had come out of the oven and were cooling on the counter. 
“Thanks for helping,” she said, leaning against him for a brief moment. Marcos smiled, wrapping his arms around her. He brushed more flour off her forehead and leaned down to kiss her.
“Anytime babe,” he murmured, which got him a smile in return that made his heart flutter. Although he wasn’t much of a baker himself, he’d always make time to help and support her the same way she always did for him and his career. 
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Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass
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percervall · 2 years
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Bonfires
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Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 1104 Requested: No Warnings: None, fluff, friends to lovers A/N: This is my first fic for Llorente, please let me know what you think! 🧡 a big thank you to @theflyingfeeling for being my beta reader
Autumn masterlist
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She loved this time of year. The days were still warm enough where it felt like summer would go on forever, but the evenings had started to get a nip to them as soon as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Most of her friends had gone home already after helping her renovate her new house, so now it was just her and four of her best friends. Jan had decided to build a bonfire in the firepit in her new garden. Two of her friends had offered to quickly run to the store when Jan suggested it to get supplies for s’mores. Which left her and Marcos to clear up after a take away dinner. 
Being alone with him made her nervous. Not because he made her nervous, but because she had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. The only person who knew was her best friend Julia who had –very unhelpfully– joined Antoine, giving her a wink as she walked out the door. She groaned internally, wishing she had never told Julia. 
“So, how’s work been?” Marcos asked her, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Good. Busy, for sure, but good. How about you? Looking forward to the Champions League match?” she replied, scrubbing at a stain on a plate. Marcos leant against the counter, facing away from the sink as he waited for her to pass him the clean dishes.
“I love playing in different countries. It’s exhausting, don’t get me wrong, and I sometimes wish we’d spend more time in each place, but it’s the Champions League. That’s massive,” he mused, drying the plate she handed him. 
“We see an uptick in sales every year when a Spanish club makes it to the group stages, it’s wild how far fans are willing to travel,” she said as she emptied the washing-up tub and rinsed it out. 
“It’s always great to know that the fans are with us, it’s often what makes us work even harder on the pitch,” Marcos said and hung the tea towel to dry. She smiled at his answer and dried her hands. He helped her by carrying out glasses and drinks while she pulled a few throw blankets out of the chest she used as a coffee table. Now the sun was gone, it had gotten chilly outside. Antoine and Julia came busting through the front door in fits of giggles.
“Anto got the biggest marshmallows he could find in the store. Please someone tell him they’re not gonna fit on the graham crackers?” 
“They’re gonna melt, it’ll fit!” Antoine replied, arms full with bags of marshmallows and chocolate bars. Julia rolled her eyes but followed him outside with a few boxes of crackers and metal skewers. She followed them outside with the blankets, shaking her head. The four of them had already picked their seats, leaving her a spot next to Marcos. She glared at Julia who blew her a kiss. She gratefully accepted the wine Jan offered her and took a large sip hoping it would calm her nerves as she sat down next to Marcos on the bench.
 Julia and Antoine were still bickering over the size of the marshmallows as they roasted them over the fire. In that regard Julia and Anto were perfect for each other, and having been together for several years now should be enough evidence that they were. Jan on the other hand was the calm in the storm, the voice of logic if you will. She loved him dearly for it. And then there was Marcos, who was somewhere between Antoine and Jan; he loved to tease, but would drop everything in a heartbeat if you needed him. 
“Here,” Marcos said quietly, offering her one of the s’more he’d made. She gratefully accepted and took a bite of the gooey treat. She moaned softly when the melted chocolate hit her tongue. For a moment she could swear something flashed across Marcos’ face, something that caught her off guard. Was she imaging things or was that a look of want? Surely it was the former; the alcohol was playing tricks on her or the flames dancing over his face cast a shadow. That was the only logical explanation she decided. She shouldn’t have accepted that second glass of wine. 
“You have something-...” she said, not finishing her sentence as her thumb brushed against the corner of his mouth wiping away some of the melted chocolate. She didn’t know what hit her, but she sucked the pad of her finger into her mouth, licking the chocolate off. Marcos’ breath seemed to hitch, his eyes darkening for a second. His throat bobbed as he glanced down at her lips and back up. It made no damn sense. Why would he be looking at me like that, she thought. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Marcos’ face seemed to move closer.
“Just kiss her already! Ow!” Antoine said. She broke the spell Marcos had on her by looking over to her friends. Antoine was rubbing his ribs where Jan had elbowed him. 
“I-.. I don’t understand… You-..?”
“Have the biggest crush on you,” Marcos interrupted, “have done for years. I wasn’t sure whether you felt the same way and I was too scared to lose you as a friend to ask.” 
“Marcos..” she said, not knowing how to respond to his admission. 
“I understand if you don’t-..” She interrupted him this time by kissing him. It was brief, a chaste brush of her lips against his to convey what she couldn’t tell him –that she felt the same about him. Marcos let out a startled noise but was quick to chase her lips after she pulled away. Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her, his hand resting against her cheek. Where hers had been tentative, his was full of conviction. Marcos tilted her face, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Her hands took hold of his hoodie as if to ground herself in reality, to make sure that this was really happening. Marcos rested his forehead against hers after he broke their kiss. 
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Probably as long as I have,” she admitted, still feeling a little breathless. Marcos smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss. He pulled her closer to him on the bench they were sitting on, wrapping an arm around her. She sighed contently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, reminding her that yes, this was really happening. She huffed a laugh, staring into the flames. Who would’ve thought a new house would come with a new boyfriend?
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percervall · 2 years
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Posting schedule
I've decided to change the times and see if it makes a difference. I'm still figuring things out. There are two autumn prompts left: picking Halloween costumes and baking. If you'd like to read something involving your favourite player, let me know! I have an idea for muddy puddles based on something @kostasstsimikass said so babe keep your eyes peeled 👀
This coming week I have two autumn fics planned and I want to share my idea for Christmas
7/11 Christmas prompts - 18:00CET 8/11 Autumn prompts: Blackberry picking (Mats Hummels) 18:00CET 10/11 Autumn prompts: Bonfires (Marcos Llorente) 18:00CET
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percervall · 2 years
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Marcos Llorente masterlist
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Oneshots
Bonfires a holly jolly Christmas I thought I knew what love was (what did I know?) you're half of me
Smut
and it sounds just like a song if your cascade ocean wave blues come
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percervall · 2 years
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The weather is finally getting colder and I don't know about you, but I'm craving cozy autumn fanfics. Feel free to send a prompt and who you'd like me to write about 😊 I usually write for Liverpool players, but I'm open to (almost) everyone
Getting caught in the rain Antoine Griezmann
Going for walks in the woods Kostas Tsimikas
Bonfires Marcos Llorente
Deciding on Halloween costumes
Watching scary films Trent Alexander-Arnold
Cuddling Mats Hummels
Going trick or treating Jordan Henderson or Virgil van Dijk
Cozy nights in Virgil van Dijk
Pumpkin spice lattes Jan Oblak
Muddy puddles
Bookstores & coffees Trent Alexander-Arnold
Decorating the house Kostas Tsimikas
Blackberry picking Mats Hummels
Baking (please add what you’d like them to bake)
Weekend getaway Fernando Torres
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footballerimaginess · 2 years
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As a Liverpool girlie I love reading about them, especially Kostas, Hendo and Robbo. I also love reading about Antoine Griezmann and Marcos Llorente (although there's not much love for him on here atm which is a real shame) and I am dying for some Rodrigo de Paul fanfic
I probably have loads of requests in my asks for some of these I think. I don’t think I’ve ever written for Rodrigo De Paul, maybe I should start too 👀
Tell me what players you love/hate reading fics for
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percervall · 2 years
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2 & 3 for the fanfic ask game pls 🌟
2. What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?
On here, it's Bonfires (about Marcos Llorente), Blackberry picking (Mats Hummels) and Pumpkin spice lattes (Jan Oblak) that I wish got more love, also because there are so very few fics about these players. On AO3 it's la gente que es mi hogar which is a Gerlonso fic I'm really quite proud of
3. What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet?
I have an idea for a James McAvoy/OFC (Eleanor) fic that involves her freaking out about meeting Ewan McGregor. There's a Sernando fic idea based on how Nando bulked up that may or may not see the light of day in about 10 years' time. I also have an idea for a Mats Hummels fic that I'm having trouble with because currently the idea is very much pwp and I don't know how to get from a to b. All I know is that that fic might be the thing that kills me (she says, well aware she said that about every filthy fic she's written this year. I never said I wasn't dramatic)
Thank you babe! 🥰😘
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