#packs real madrid

[9kylian]

Please ship them to the adress below

[faelayouts]

olivia rodrigo + kylian mbappe layouts please 🩷💞🌹

[koobrina]

girls icons + real madrid headers

like or rebelog if u used.

twitter @ hvrtzmount

[winqzr]

users morata?

usernames for alvaro morata.

- alvrwmorata

- mwratta

- admoratta

- ayvaromoratw

- atletimoratw

- i52morata

- wlvaromoratw

- morwtalvaro

- alvarwxmrata

- moratwatleti

[digitaltrendscloud]

Kylian Mbappe's Electrifying Bernabeu Welcome

https://digitaltrends.cloud/   In a moment that evoked memories of football legend Cristiano Ronaldo’s grand welcome, Kylian Mbappe was officially unveiled as Real Madrid’s new No. 9 at a packed Santiago Bernabeu. The France captain, following in the footsteps of his idol, recreated Ronaldo’s iconic gesture, igniting the passion of 80,000 fervent fans. This historic event marks the beginning of a…

[sunrizef1]

big reputation pt 2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: sorry this took so long bbgs

Pt 1 Pt 3

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

alex_albon

Friend???

Yeah, real fucking funny

yourusername

Get out of my DMs

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lilymhe

“Friend”?

Girl that's the love of your life

“Not because he owns me but because he rly knows me” or whatever

yourusername

Ah I love him 😍

lilymhe

Trust me, i know

I've seen more than I want to

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fernandoalo_official

friend?

Querida, ese hombre te ama.

yourusername

You're the third person to comment on the “friend” thing

fernandoalo_official

Porque las únicas personas que no saben que os queréis son ciegas 😂

translation: (Friend? Darling, that man loves you) (you're the third person to comment on the friend thing) (because the only people who don't know you love each other are blind)

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logansargeant

Friend???

yourusername

Oh my god

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

I don't appreciate being cut out of this picture

yourusername

Are you my boyfriend or his teammate

oscarpiastri

I'm his friend 😔

yourusername

you'll get an Insta story the day Im in your garage for race day

oscarpiastri

But you'd never be in my garage

yourusername

Well 🤷‍♀️

oscarpiastri

Damn 😔

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yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

DELETE DELETE DELETE

THEYRE GONNA FIGURE OUT THATS ME AND BURN ME AT THE STAKE

yourusername

LMFAO

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TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by logansargeant taylorswift and 31,998,776 others

yourusername guys!!!! Ive seen the support on reputation and after the year I’ve had, I’m so grateful for every person that’s listened to and supported the album. As a little present for your support, I’m going on tour!!! This is only leg 1, so if there isn’t a show near you, look out for leg 2 after this one, we’ll be visiting several more countries and cities! Tickets go on sale tomorrow at 10 AM, I can’t wait to see you all on the Reputation Stadium Tour!!! 🖤🖤🖤

load comments…

user1 YESSSSSS LETS GO

user2 omg I’m gonna be back in the trenches of Ticketmaster again

user3 I need to hear don’t blame me in a packed stadium plssss

user4 no KC????

yourusername we’ll be in kc on leg 2 100%!!!

user4 LFG!!!! Tysm bae

user5 damn she loves Vegas doesn’t she

user6 the most random schedule ever lmfao

user7 she’s going to Austria!!!! No one ever goes to Austria!!!

user8 this is the first tour I’ve seen that isn’t just entirely American cities lmfao

user9 there’s like actual European cities instead of just London lol

user10 I think I recognize the order of some of these stops…

user11 Baku is so random lmfao

user12 why does she go back and forth to the us like 4 times??? 😭

charles_leclerc can’t wait!!!!

yourusername 🫶

user13 she’s coming to Hungary 😍

logansargeant this schedule looks a bit familiar 🤔

yourusername wonder why that is 🤷🏻‍♀️

user14 these tickets are gonna be so hard to get

landonorris so which show are we all going too then

oscarpiastri from the looks of it, we could go to all of them

landonorris I might not go that far 😅

logansargeant I will 🫡

lewishamilton my votes for London n1

carlossainz I say Madrid

fernandoalo_official how about both

liked by yourusername

user15 I live in France but I will be buying tickets to Madrid and London in hopes of seeing the drivers

user16 OHHHH ITS THE F1 SCHEDULE

liked by yourusername

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yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Toronto, Canada

liked by landonorris logansargeant and 35,998,004 others

yourusername Toronto you were absolutely electric for opening night of the Reputation Tour!!! I’m in awe of how many of you came out to support the show and I hope it lived up to your expectations! It was also nice to see some friends come out to support before their race this weekend 🫶. Thank you so much Toronto, I’ll see you guys again for Night 3!

Tagged: lilymhe alex_albon oscarpiastri landonorris fernandoalo_official georgerussel carmenmundt logansargeant

Load comments…

user17 WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE

user18 the show was so good!!!!!

user19 did yall see all the drivers hanging out in the vip tent 😭

user20 y/n kept pointing at the tent during every love song 😭😭😭

user21 it was so amazing!

landonorris what is that picture of me, I do not remember that

yourusername it’s from when your flight landed at two am and you both showed up to soundcheck at 6 am

landonorris and you decided to post that one???

yourusername it’s the only picture I have where you’re not wearing McLaren merch 🤷‍♀️

user22 wait Oscar and Lando showing up to soundcheck is kind of adorable

fernandoalo_official it was very good chica!!

yourusername thank you Nando!!!

user23 that picture of Alex and Lily is so cute

lilymhe it was so amazing, I’m so glad the schedule happens to line up so I can go to more shows!!! 🫶

yourusername you can have a reserved spot in the vip tent lils ❤️

lilymhe 😭🫶

user24 why is Logan tagged on the microphone slide??? He’s not in the slideshow but he’s tagged???

user25 slide 8 is 100% him but she just didn’t tag him, I know it

lewishamilton this is Lewis Hamilton erasure

yourusername ahhhh I’m sorry lew! I don’t have a good picture of you at the show where you’re not out of focus!

lewishamilton this is what happens when I let Fernando take pictures. Guess I’ll just have to go to more shows until I make the slideshow 🤔

yourusername you’re welcome any time, it was great to have you 🫶

user25 slide 8 is so cute 😭

logansargeant so good 😍

yourusername 🫶

user26 now why did Logan have the least to say out of anyone 🙄

user27 I’m convinced it’s because they’re sitting next to each other right now

alex_albon lilys now obsessed with the show so I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of us during leg 1

yourusername don’t act like you didn’t have fun as well

alex_albon oh I definitely did, I’ll have to start planning new reputation themed outfits to match the crowd

yourusername the bleached hair would match perfectly

charles_leclerc me and Alex had a wonderful time, thank you so much for inviting us!!!

yourusername it was so great to have you both supporting the show!

alexandrasaintmleux it was beautiful, mon chou!

yourusername tysm Alex ❤️

user28 all the drivers in the comments 😭

oscarpiastri Lando cried

landonorris no I didn’t stfu

yourusername there’s pictures lan

landonorris New Year’s Day is just so heartwarming 😔

yourusername dw lan, there’s also pictures of Oscar crying

oscarpiastri you know why I cried 😔 I’m just empathetic for his happiness 🙄

user29 “I’m empathetic for his happiness” okay so that’s about Logan and you can’t tell me otherwise

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yourusername added to their story

lewishamilton

Honored to make it into the slideshow 🫶

yourusername

lol you’re welcome lew

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alex_albon

Why do you have a picture of me asleep

yourusername

guess

alex_albon

Lily?

yourusername

Of course

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georgerussell

I’m going to be completely honest

I was completely black out

yourusername

I could tell

Not offended

georgerussell

Hey I do remember the giant snake though

this just means I’ll have to go to more shows and remember those ones

yourusername

You and Carmen are always welcome

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

landonorris

Thank you?

Not sure to reply to the small-ass text

yourusername

dw the lmfao wasn’t about you

landonorris

Yeah, I assumed lmao

Glad I could avenge you 🫡

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[meowmeowmessi]

extra time.. owari da

[woso-dreamzzz]

Perfect

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're just perfect

"Look at this, mija," Alexia says," This is a shell! It's pretty, just like you!"

You look up at her, the big floppy hat on your head obscuring most of your face.

At just thirteen months old now, you've got used to sitting upright by yourself and amusing yourself with your toys.

You point, little legs kicking out.

"Mami!" You cheer and Alexia grins at you.

"Yes, mija, I'm Mami. But this is a shell."

You don't care about this shell thing at all though as you bum shuffle across the sand to her.

It's your first time at the beach and it's kind of fun but all you really want is to be in Alexia's arms.

You'd been adopted at only a few months old, her injuries giving Alexia the strength to finally make such a big decision.

Adopting had been on and off in her mind for years now, a will she, won't she that really tested her resolve at times. The injury had put things into perspective for her.

Her playing career will be short.

There's no point in delaying things that she really wants.

And what she really wanted was a baby.

She wanted you.

You were her everything. So small and so perfect and just learning about the world.

You could talk now, barely and walking still seems to elude you but that doesn't matter.

Because you're perfect.

(One day, you'll be perfect on the pitch as well, a perfect successor to Alexia's weighty legacy).

You're so happy and so giggly and just adore your Mami.

"Shell," Alexia says," Can you say that? Shell."

"Mami!" You say instead, pointing at her and getting even closer until you can slam your face into her tummy.

"Oh, mija," Alexia laughs," I'm right here. You don't want to look at the pretty shell?"

"Mami!"

"Okay."

You fit perfectly on her hip as Alexia hauls you up onto it.

You poke and prod at her shirt as she packs up the beach things one-handed.

Your first beach trip is a success even if you spent most of your time trying to eat sand and escape via the sea.

"No way, baby Putellas! You're smiling!" Mapi cajoles as Alexia enters the locker room that evening for their match against Real Madrid.

"That joke is getting old," Alexia says.

"Come on," Mapi laughs," It's kind of funny. There's no way that a Putellas kid is this smiley. It's unnatural."

Alexia knows Mapi is teasing but it still annoys her a little bit.

You're just perfect, all happy and excited with your sunny disposition. It doesn't matter that your natural face is a huge smile and Alexia's is an air of complete neutrality.

"Mapi," Ingrid says, tone low in warning and Alexia's glad her friend has a partner like Ingrid to keep her in check.

"Mami!"

Alexia refocuses her attention on you, a smile already splitting your face open when she makes eye contact.

She just can't stop herself from feathering kisses all over you, delighting in the way that you giggle with every one that lands on your skin.

"My mascot is the cutest," Alexia declares," The cutest mascot in the world, yes you are!"

You're wearing one of Alexia's shirts, sized down to fit you but emblazoned with her name and number.

(One day, years later, Alexia will sit at a packed Camp Nou with an eleven on her shirt but your name above it instead of her own).

You giggle at her words, snagging the front of her shirt when she lifts you up again.

Your ear defenders sit snugly on your ears as she leads the team out against Real Madrid.

The camera focuses on her, the stern face she's wearing that contrasts so beautifully against your gummy smile as you rest your head on her shoulder.

"Mami!" You call out as Alexia hurries off to the touchline to pass you off to Pina to babysit.

"I'm sorry, mija but I have to play this match." She strokes over your cheek. "I'll score a goal for you though, okay. How's that? A goal?"

(One day, you'll dedicate a goal in the packed out Camp Nou to Alexia as well).

You've recently learnt to clap as well, something that Alexia can see after her first goal when the camera cuts to the bench as you attempt to make Pina clap too, grabbing her hands in your own small ones.

Alexia manages to whip in another one as well and when the cameras cut to you again, kicking your little legs in glee.

Her hattrick gets secured in the very last minute of extra time, just rubbing more salt in the wound for Real Madrid's crushing defeat.

The team celebrates heavily but Alexia is already turning around.

"Mami!"

You're by the touchline, taking very determined steps all by yourself onto the grass.

One step.

Two step.

Three.

And then a handful more until you finally walk straight into Alexia's outstretched arms.

"Mija! Your first steps!"

You giggle, pressing a big wet kiss to her cheek.

You take your first steps at Camp Nou.

One day, you'll score your first goal here too.

[judespoets]

the alchemy | jude bellingham

summary: “where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

paining: jude bellingham x fem!reader

category: fluff

warnings: not proofread

the day was finally here. the day you have been waiting for your entire life.

you were sitting in the stands together with denise and mark, your parents in law almost and jobe, your little brother, well the one you never had yourself.

all of you were sitting on the edges of your seats in wembley stadium, watching one person and one person only, jude.

it would be selfish of you to say it’s the day you’ve always dreamt of, but it kind of was. since jude and you were kids, the two of you would watch the champions league final together, recreate the best moments and dream of jude playing in it one day.

and now, after all those years of dreaming, the day was here.

you were sure he would win, but dortmund put up such a good fight, during the first half you weren’t sure of that anymore.

but in no time it was the 98th minute and real madrid was currently winning 2:0.

you were so excited, you were only watching jude walking and running around the field, you could see him trying to hide his smile.

it was bittersweet, just a year ago you were packing all your stuff into boxes to move from dortmund to madrid, now he was playing against them in the champions league final, everything was unbelievable at this moment, surreal even.

and then something snapped you out of your thoughts, the final whistle, you were never this excited about hearing that whistle in your entire life.

you stood up, throwing your hands up in the air, immediately making your way down a little bit to stand at the barricade to have a better look at your boyfriend who just won the championship league.

you watched him closely as he fell down to his knees, hiding his face in his hands and his friends approaching as they all tried to lift him up, wanting to throw him up in the air, you couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face.

but jude shook his head, he looked like he needed to do something else before anything else as he suddenly started running, sprinting almost.

and there he was, the man you loved, running towards you before even celebrating the biggest day of his career.

it all went by so fast and the next thing you know is having him in your arms, hugging him tighter than you probably ever did before, hiding your face in his neck.

“i love you so much, thank you for coming, baby” you heard him say in your ear.

“gosh, jude, i’m so happy, look what you just did, i love you so so much.” you answered, completely unaware of all your emotions. you were just so happy and proud.

as jude let go of you he took your head in his hands, kissing all over your face just before planting his lips onto yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“i love you, please come to the pitch after the trophy ceremony, okay?” he said before recognizing the calls of his teammates and returning to the pitch to clap all the other players.

“of course, my love.” you answered as you waited, watching your boyfriend lift the proudest achievement of his career so far.

you had dreamed of this for so long and now it was even more magical than you imagined.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Jude x older!reader where she has a kid and the kid is jude's biggest fan and makes her go to a fan signing where jude meets her and falls in love. Maybe more domestic with him spending time with the kid too 🫠🫠🫠.

Thanks love 💃

Purple

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your son is in love with Jude Bellingham and so are you.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.9k

Warnings! FLUFF, cute kid, domestic fluff, sweetness,

A mother's love knows no bounds.

Which is exactly why you're standing outside the real Madrid stadium in the freezing cold with your energetic toddler practically vibrating from excitement.

You were here to attend a meet and greet that your son had been begging you for weeks to take him to.

And you didn't want to disappoint him, so you made sure to clear your schedule and make time for him.

You were up all night last night working on a project, and then you were up again at 6am so you could make Leo a nice breakfast before taking him to the stadium. You were tired, but seeing Leo so happy made it all worth it.

You look over at your son, who was clutching his soccer ball and jersey to his chest as he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. His eyes were shining with pure joy, and he was practically bouncing. He looked so cute like this. You hope he never grows up.

“Mommy, look!” Leo squealed, running to your side. You smiled as you took a moment to scan the crowd. The stadium was packed with fans all dressed in Real Madrid gear, all there to see Jude.

He was one of the team's most popular players and Leo's absolute favorite. The walls of his room were plastered with Jude posters, and he could recite Jude's entire history with the team from memory. You'd known he would be over the moon to get the chance to actually meet Jude.

“Look where?” You ask, scanning the crowd.

“At Jude,” Leo said, pointing to a man who was standing by a table, signing autographs. He was tall, probably around six two, and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and soft brown eyes. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a men's magazine. And you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a little flutter in your chest.

But you were here for Leo, not to flirt with a soccer player, so you put aside your feelings and followed your son through the crowd.

Jude was wearing the Real Madrid uniform, and he was grinning broadly as he laughed with some of the other fans around him. He looked up then and met your eye for a moment, and you felt a little thrill run through your body. He really was even more handsome up close.

But then, he looked away and focused on the next person in line.

“He’s coming this way,” Leo whispered, eyes glued to Jude. Sure enough, the star was making his way through the crowd, stopping to sign autographs and shake hands along the way.

“Mommy, I don’t know what to do,” Leo said, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Just go up to him, and ask him to sign your jersey,” You said, smoothing out his shirt and running your hand through his hair. “I’ll be right here behind you.”

“Okay,” Leo whimpered. He's always been a shy kid, and you knew he was nervous about meeting Jude. But you also knew that this would mean the world to him. So you grabbed his little hand and started to walk over with him.

Jude was shaking hands and chatting with the fans, so you just stood behind Leo until he was ready. It took him a few minutes, but eventually he worked up the nerve to tug on Jude's shirt.

“Hi,” Leo said quietly. He was still clutching his jersey and soccer ball in one hand, and you could tell he was trembling. Jude turned around and looked down at him, his eyes softening with concern when he saw your son’s nervous face.

“Hey there, buddy,” Jude said, dropping into a crouch beside Leo. He rested a big hand on your son's shoulder, and you noticed that his thumb was brushing against your son's neck in a soothing motion.

“I’m Jude.” He said with a smile.

“I’m Leo,” Leo replied, looking up at Jude in awe.

“What can I do for you?” Jude asked. Leo glanced over at you for a moment, then back at Jude.

“Will you sign this for me?” He asked, holding out his jersey. Jude nodded and took the jersey from your son.

“How about I sign both this and your soccer ball?” He asked. Leo nodded eagerly and Jude grinned. He signed both items, then handed them back to Leo.

“You’re so cool,” Leo said quietly.

“Thanks,” Jude said, ruffling your son's hair. “I think you're pretty cool too.” He said with a grin. Your son beamed at his words, not believing that his favorite football player thought he was cool.

“Thank you,” Leo said, clutching his signed jersey to his chest. You could already tell it was going to be his new favorite thing.

“You’re welcome,” Jude replied. He looked over at you then, and you could feel his eyes on you. You looked back at him, and there was a moment. You both knew it. He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in your features. You could see him drinking you in, and it felt like he could see your soul. You held his gaze for a few seconds, and then Leo was tugging on your hand.

"And who might this be?" Jude asked, turning his attention back to your son. He had a soft, warm voice that sounded like it belonged in a jazz club.

"This is my mommy," Leo said, gesturing to you. You could feel your cheeks heating as Jude's eyes returned to your face.

"Hi," You said, smiling at him.

"Hi," Jude replied, stepping closer. He was even more handsome now that he was closer. His dark skin was flawless, and you could see the definition in his muscles even under his uniform. He was a big guy, easily over six feet tall, and you felt tiny compared to him. You could see the sharp angle of his jawline, and his soft lips looked like they would be perfect for kissing.

"Are you enjoying the signing?" He asked, looking down at you with warm eyes.

"Yeah," You said, smiling back at him. "My son loves you."

You heard Leo giggle then, and you looked down to see him grinning at you.

"Can I have a hug?" Leo asked, looking up at Jude with pleading eyes. Jude's expression softened, and he kneeled back down and held out his arms.

"Of course," He said, opening his arms to your son. Leo squealed with delight, handing you his jersey and soccer ball and wrapping his arms around Jude's neck. Jude hugged him back, picking him up off the ground and swinging him in a circle. You watched them, feeling your heart swell with pride and happiness. Leo had been begging you for weeks to take him to this signing, and you knew he would remember this moment forever. You could already tell he was going to cherish this memory.

"Thank you," You said, smiling at Jude as he set your son back down on his feet.

"No problem," Jude said, smiling back. He glanced down at you, his eyes roving over your body before meeting your eyes again. You felt a little thrill run through your body at his gaze.

"Do you have a jersey?" Jude asked, holding out a pen.

"I'm just here for my son," You replied, gesturing to Leo, who was now lost in his own little world. Your sign that he was ready to go home.

"Here," Jude said, grabbing a jersey from the stack on his table. "Take this one."

"Are you sure?" You asked, feeling giddy at the thought of him giving you something.

"Yeah," Jude said, scribbling on the front of the jersey. You watched as he wrote "For Leo's mommy" in bold letters, then handed the jersey back to you, his hand brushing against yours as you took it from him.

"Thanks," You said, feeling your cheeks heat at his touch.

"You're welcome," Jude replied, smiling at you. He was still holding your gaze, and you could feel the air around you start to thicken. There was something about him that made you want to get closer, and you had to force yourself not to lean towards him.

"I better go," You said, glancing down at Leo. He was still playing with his jersey, and you knew he was ready to go home.

"Yeah," Jude said, nodding. He glanced over at Leo, a soft expression on his face. "It was nice to meet you both."

"You too," You replied, forcing yourself not to meet his gaze. You didn't want to get stuck in those warm brown eyes again, or you knew you would never leave.

"Bye," Jude said, holding out a hand to your son. Leo ran over and gave Jude a quick high five, then took your hand and tugged you towards the exit. You waved at Jude, who was watching you with a warm smile, before you walked out of the stadium.

That was a year ago and so much had changed since then.

Jude had written his phone number on that jersey and the rest was history. At first you had been very scared to be with him. I gnoring his attempts at flirty text messages and calls. You were older than him and you had a son. You weren't sure if he was ready for all of that.

But he had been persistent.

Jude would text you every day, leaving you flirty messages. He would also call you every night before you went to bed. He told you stories about his games and he would listen to you talk about your son.

After a few weeks, you finally agreed to meet up with him for a date. You were nervous, but as soon as Jude arrived at your doorstep, you felt at ease. You talked all night, sharing stories and laughing together. It was one of the best nights of your life.

After that date, there was no going back. You had fallen in love with Jude, and he loved you too. Both of you.

Introducing to Leo that Jude was your boyfriend had been easy. He already thought Jude was the coolest person alive, and he was excited to have him in your life. However, getting him used to you guys dating was tough. Especially with your ex-husband in the picture.

Leo was still stuck on the idea of you guys getting back together , so it took some time for him to fully accept Jude as your new partner. He was used to having you all to himself, and the introduction of a new person, even someone he admired as much as Jude, was a big adjustment.

But eventually everything worked out, and they have become the best of friends.

Now you guys were all living in the same house.

You woke up with a smile on your face.

You could feel a heavy arm slung over your waist, and a big warm body spooned against your back. You felt a warm breath on your neck, and a gentle hand stroking your hip. You could hear the deep hum of your lover's voice singing softly in your ear. It was your favorite song. He only sang it to you.

You rolled over in his arms, burying your face in his chest. He smelled like your body wash and soap, and you could feel his morning wood digging into your thigh. You smiled as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“Good morning, baby,” You murmured, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

“Morning, love,” Jude replied, leaning in to kiss you. His lips were soft and warm, and you felt a little thrill as you kissed him back. He was so sweet to you. He always made sure you were happy and comfortable.

You were just getting into the kiss when you heard your son's voice. You pulled away and looked up to see Leo standing in your doorway, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning,” You said, smiling at him. He smiled back and skipped over to your bed, crawling up to snuggle between you.

“Good morning, buddy,” Jude said, pulling him in for a hug. Leo squealed happily and wrapped his arms around your lover's neck.

“I had the best dream ever!” Leo said, leaning back to look at you and Jude. “I dreamt that you guys were my mommy and daddy!”

You heard Jude suck in a breath, and you looked up at him to see a look of shock on his face. You knew he had been wanting this for a while, so you didn't want him to get too hopeful.

“That's a nice dream,” You said, smiling at your son. He nodded happily and leaned back into Jude's chest.

“Can we play today?” He asked, looking up at Jude with pleading eyes. Oh boy here we go, you think. If there was one thing Jude could never say no to it was Leo. And Leo knew it. And he always used it to his advantage. He was a sneaky little brat and he always got away with it.

“No I have to go to work baby,” You said, sitting up. You were a nurse at the hospital and you were scheduled to work today. Leo frowned at your words, his little lip pouting. He hated it when you left him. But he loved Jude even more. So you knew he wasn't gonna be sad for long.

“Oh,” He said quietly. He looked over at Jude, his eyes lighting up with an idea. "Jude can play with me instead!"

The tall footballer grinned, reaching down to tickle your son's stomach. You watched as Leo giggled, his pout forgotten. "I'd love to," Jude said, smiling at you. "What do you want to do?"

"Hmmm…" Leo said, thinking. "I don't know yet."

"Well, let's eat breakfast first," Jude said, sliding out of bed. You watched as he picked Leo up and carried him out of your bedroom, your son's little legs wrapped around his waist.

You followed behind them, heading into the kitchen. You had half an hour before you had to leave, so you had to hurry. You were sad that you would be missing Leo's soccer game, but you knew Jude would take him.

You stood on your tip-toes, reaching up to grab three bowls from your cabinet. Leo was chattering excitedly as Jude got him a box of cereal and milk. You watched as he poured some into your son's bowl, and then passed you one with a wink. He loved when you cooked, but he also knew you weren't a morning person. So he always got your son's breakfast ready. It was cute.

You smiled at him as you set the bowls down on the table, then bent down to give your son a quick hug. "I'm going to go get ready," You said, pressing a kiss to Leo's head. He nodded, already digging in to his cereal. He waved at you as you walked back to your room, Jude's eyes following you.

You took a quick shower and got dressed. Then you headed back out into the kitchen, where your son and lover were waiting. Leo was bouncing up and down, clearly excited about his day. You smiled at him and leaned in to give him a hug.

"I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He nodded, clinging to your neck.

"I love you, mommy," He said, squeezing you tight.

"I love you too," You replied. You felt a warmth in your chest, and you glanced up at Jude to see him smiling softly at the two of you. He looked so sweet as he watched you and Leo hug, and you felt another little thrill run through your body.

"I'll see you tonight," Jude said, pulling you in for a kiss. You melted against him, his big hands resting on your hips. You felt him pull you closer, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours. You could feel Leo watching the two of you, and you broke away with a laugh. "Let me go to work."

Jude chuckled and pulled away, letting you go. You gave him one more quick peck, then leaned down to give your son another hug. "Be good today."

"I will," He said, smiling up at you. You smiled back, then grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

Now left alone with your son, Jude decided to make something to kill time before his soccer game.

"What do you want to make, kiddo?" He asked, ruffling your son's hair. He was sitting on the counter, watching Jude with bright eyes.

"I don't know…" He said, frowning. He looked thoughtful as he scanned your kitchen. Jude smiled as he watched him. He loved when he did this. He could tell your son was thinking hard, and he loved watching him try to decide what he wanted to do. "Cupcakes!"

"Cupcakes?" Jude asked, looking at your son in surprise. He hadn't expected that one. But then again, it made sense. Cupcakes were one of your son's favorite snacks.

"Yeah," Leo said, nodding. He hopped off the counter, skipping over to the pantry. Jude watched as he pulled out a bag of flour and sugar, then skipped back over to Jude.

"You sure you don't want cookies?" Jude asked, eyeing the ingredients in your son's hands. Leo frowned at his question.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "I want cupcakes. They're better than cookies."

Jude chuckled and took the ingredients from your son. He was a bit confused by your son's logic, but he knew better than to question it. "Well," He said, setting the ingredients down on your counter. "Let's get started then." He grabbed a stool for your son and set it beside him.

Leo grinned and hopped up onto the stool, peering curiously at the ingredients. He watched with rapt attention as Jude got everything out, and then helped him measure out the ingredients. He was excited to be doing this with Jude.

"Cupcakes are my favorite," He repeated, helping Jude pour the batter into the cups. Jude smiled as he watched your son work. He could see that he was trying really hard to pour it perfectly, and he was impressed.

"I know," He said, ruffling your son's hair. "I'm glad we're making them together." Leo smiled and looked up at Jude, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Me too," He said softly. "I love you, Jude."

Jude's heart melted as he heard your son's words. He loved your son so much, and hearing those words come from his mouth made everything worth it. He wrapped his arms around your son and pulled him close.

"I love you too," He said, kissing your son's cheek. He could feel his heart swelling with emotion as he held your son in his arms. He knew he wanted to be his dad. "You're my favorite kid in the world."

Leo giggled and leaned back to look at Jude. He had a happy smile on his face, and Jude could tell he was feeling content. He was happy to be spending the day with him, and he was glad they had decided to make cupcakes.

"You're my favorite too," He said, smiling at Jude.

Jude smiled back at your son and helped him into the oven. They spent the next twenty minutes chatting while the cupcakes cooked, and then they let them cool. Jude made the frosting, and then helped your son frost and decorate the cupcakes. It was really cute watching your son work. He was focused and careful as he put sprinkles onto each cupcake, and Jude could tell he was happy.

When they were done, Jude carefully helped him put the cupcakes into a tupperware container. Leo had decided halfway through making them that he wanted to bring some for his teammates later.

Your son skipped over to the table and grabbed a cupcake, pulling the wrapper off and taking a big bite. Jude watched as his eyes lit up with happiness, and then he grabbed another one for himself.

"These are delicious!" Leo said, taking a bite. Jude smiled as he chewed his own cupcake. It was good. The frosting was a little messy, but he knew Leo would like it.

"We make a good team," He said, nudging your son's shoulder with his hip. Leo grinned and took another bite of his cupcake.

"I know," He said, licking his fingers. Jude chuckled at him. He was a messy little brat sometimes. But he loved him anyway.

"You almost ready to go?" He asked, glancing at the clock. It was almost time for your son's soccer game. Leo nodded and jumped off his stool.

"Yeah!" He said excitedly, skipping over to grab his bag and cleats. He had changed into his jersey to make cupcakes, but he needed his bag and cleats to play. Jude helped him with his shoes, and then grabbed his water bottle and followed him out to the car.

The drive to the field was uneventful. Your son chattered excitedly from the backseat, telling Jude all about his friends and what he wanted to do after the game. Jude listened attentively, nodding along as your son talked. He loved hearing your son's thoughts. He had such a happy outlook on life, and it was infectious.

They made it to the field a few minutes before the game started. Leo hopped out of the car, his eyes lighting up as he spotted his teammates. He waved goodbye to Jude and ran off to join them. Jude watched as he ran over to hug his coach (his uncle), then turned and waved again. Jude waved back at him and hopped out of the car, grabbing a seat on the bleachers.

The game went quickly. Leo's team won 4-2, and he scored one of the goals. Jude must've been the loudest parent on the sidelines, cheering for him and shouting encouragement. When the game finally ended, he jumped down and walked over to where your son was waiting for him. His coach was giving him a high five, and your son looked happy. He was sweaty and dirty, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"I did it, daddy!" Leo said excitedly, running over to hug him. Jude froze at his words, shock filling his chest. He looked down at your son and smiled. He had never heard him call him that before. He like it.

"What did you say?" Jude asked, voice soft. Leo looked up at him, his face serious.

"I called you daddy," He said. Jude could hear the nerves in his voice, and he knew he was worried he would get in trouble. But Jude would never scold your son. Especially not for something like that. He wanted your son to call him that.

"Are you sure?" He asked, pulling your son in for a hug. He wanted to make sure your son was comfortable with it before he said anything else.

"Yeah," Leo said, smiling up at him. "I want you to be my daddy."

Jude's heart swelled with emotion as he heard your son's words. He was so happy to hear that. He wanted to be your son's dad. He wanted to protect him and care for him. He wanted to be there for him and give him everything he wanted.

"Okay," He said, kissing the top of your son's head. Your son's face lit up, and he squeezed Jude in a tight hug. He was so happy. Jude smiled as he held your son in his arms. He felt complete. He wanted your son to be happy, and he was glad he had made him happy.

He would always be there for him.

Always.

-Bianca🌻

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

Your first time with the national team, hoping you’ll find yourself being of importance to the team with your Vidić-reminiscent play style

Barça Femeni x teen!reader

pt. 6 masterlist

Warnings: the rfef ⚠️⚠️, a teeny bit of badly translated spanish and like one sentence of catalan, angst if u squint 🙂‍↕️

A/N: our scrubber is back 🥳🥳! this part is longer than usual, i hope you enjoy 💝

You couldn’t remember anything between landing in Denmark and waking up in your hotel room. You were still in the clothes you had travelled in, and neither Irene or Alexia were in the room… until the door opened and both of them were.

“(Y/N), get up, we’re going to breakfast,” Irene said, yanking the covers off. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the light beginning to peek into your room as Irene pulled up the blinds before her and Alexia left the room and left you to get ready.

It’s like you were on autopilot the whole time as you got into your Spain training kit and took the elevator down to the cafeteria. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened into the hotel’s foyer, it was easy to tell where the cafeteria was because of the voices you could hear.

Tentatively, you stepped into the room. Your eyes scanned every table for any sign of your Barça teammates, the only people you wanted to see right now amongst the abundance of other women that were now your new teammates.

When you saw Aitana and Irene’s heads amidst the crowd, your muscles relaxed with relief, and you made your way over to them swiftly.

“Buenos días,” you mumbled, sitting down beside Aitana, yawning as you cracked your neck. “Buenos días, (Y/N),” the brunette replied, smiling at you.

The room was packed with women, all wearing the same training gear as you. Some of them you recognised from times you versed then with your club; Laia Codina from Arsenal, Alba Redondo from Levante, Laia Aleixandri from Manchester City… and some Madridistas.

One thing about you was, you were passionate about Barça. In your eyes there was no ‘best club in the world’ debate, let alone best club in Spain — that title immediately went to Barça.

You were a Barça fan before you were a player, hence why you have always been well-versed in the club’s history, and therefore the history of the rivalry between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona.

You had bad experiences with Madridistas. El Clásicos were already competitive matches (for one side, at least), so you didn’t really like the way you were almost seemingly targeted by your rivals, due to your age. Irene and Mapi were never pelted by so many balls and forced into so many one-on-one duels.

Even though you were more than capable of crunching them, it exhausted you. You woke up the next morning with bruises you didn’t know had formed and grazes in odd spots that made you wonder what kind of tackles you were performing to get them in such areas.

The wingers gave you the most problems. They constantly cut into the middle, choosing to take you on. Part of you couldn’t blame them because you wouldn’t want to take on Lucy, Ona or Frido either, but what the hell?

The room was definitely not devoid of Madridistas. You could see Misa, their goalie, sitting with Alexandria. There was another face you recognised from those El Clásico matches, but it was a vague remembrance that made you think long and hard to remember the name. You only remembered her nickname within your Barça teammates; la hija de Frido.

Whatever. You’d figure it out later.

“Are you going to eat anything, nenita?” Irene asked from across the table, and you nodded hesitantly.

Leaning over, you whispered, “Can you come with me? Please?”

She nodded with a smile, standing up. “Aita, come with us. We’re going to get some food.”

You were always grateful for your Barça family. They’ve always been your big sisters, people you can trust and find comfort in, your second family.

(Except, they were basically your first family.)

You were more grateful for them than ever today, because this Spain camp was intimidating and scary, you knew nobody except your club teammates and you were pretty much lost.

All you wanted to do was cling onto Irene or Alexia or Aitana the entire day and never leave their side. Even as you were getting food and piling breakfast onto your plate, you stuck to Irene like glue.

With your plate in hand, you walked cautiously to balance all the food and prevent it dropping. You found yourself feeling way hungrier than normal, and you blamed it on the nerves as you placed your food onto the table.

"Irene, watch my food please," you said once she returned to the table with her own breakfast, "I'm going to get a drink."

"That's a lot of food, but I'll look after it anyways," the woman laughed, sitting down and dragging your plate beside hers. You returned to the buffet table and as you were debating on making yourself a cup of tea or just having a glass of ice water, another woman approached you from the side, bumping your shoulder.

Your lip subconsciously curled up, your nose scrunching. Your head snapped sideways to look at whoever it was that just bumped you, and a dirty blonde-brownish ponytail swished in your face.

It was the girl whose name you didn’t know, the Madridista. She was putting a couple slices of toast onto her plate, and it seemed like she hadn’t even realised she bumped you.

But it didn’t make sense. It was a solid shove which definitely wasn’t accidental..

Grabbing a glass from the collection on the table, you walked past her slowly, waiting for the perfect moment. As she placed her plate down and picked up a spoon to load some strawberries onto it, you took an extra step closer to her and shoved her shoulder with yours.

The strawberries she had picked up on the spoon all dropped back into the container upon the impact. You hurried over to the water jug to pour some into your glass, not looking at her for a moment despite being able to feel her cold glare on you.

Your shove was a bit harder than hers had initially been, but that was because you were bigger and probably stronger.

You returned to your table quickly, and Irene pushed your plate back towards you before you had even sat down.

“Who’s that girl, over there?” you asked Aitana and Irene, discreetly gesturing to the table behind you where she sat.

“You mean Misa?” Aitana questioned, and you shook your head. “No, the other one, the one she’s talking to.”

“Ohhh, that’s Athenea,” Aitana replied, and the name was suddenly very familiar to you. You had vivid memories of her getting sat by Frido during multiple Clásicos, and it was apparent that Aitana was reminiscing about the same events due to the laugh she was trying to suppress while talking about Athenea.

“She just bumped me off,” you explained, and Aitana’s eyes widened. “Did she apologise?”

You shook your head, giving her a shrug in return, “No. I couldn’t help myself and shoved her back, but I seriously didn’t mean to do it as hard as I did,” you responded, sighing.

Aitana rubbed your back and smiled, “Don’t worry about it, just eat. You need energy for training.”

As you put a piece of waffle into your mouth, you tried to recount all the interactions you’ve had with Athenea — there was the time you two-footed her out of nowhere when she managed to get past Irene, the time you had an aerial duel with her and she headed your shoulder instead of the ball, the time she lost the ball to you and it resulted in a goal…

You also remembered her unnecessary physicality when you didn’t have the ball, the snarky remarks she’d make to her teammates about you and your own teammates, and other coarse behaviour she displayed throughout each Clásico.

You went to stab another piece of your waffle until you realised you had eaten it all, along with the hash browns, fruits, toast and scrambled eggs.

Irene and Aitana had also finished their breakfast, and while Irene took a sip of her coffee, Aitana did the same with her orange juice.

“Vale,” Irene spoke, placing her coffee down, “Preparémosnos para entrenar.”

You were nervous for training. You weren’t sure if they’d be like Barça in terms of utilising your skills; would they be accepting of your play style or completely discard it, forcing you to play differently?

Your play style was an important part of you as a player, but also you as a person. It was the manifestation of your passion for Barça and the pride you felt whenever you got to wear the blaugrana.

It was also an ode to your idol who demonstrated what it means to give your all for the badge. Without your play style, you’re nothing.

It was the only thing you could think of as you strolled to the training pitch, boots in hand. You deliberately waited for everyone else to leave so you could loom behind them, and you planned to keep it that way until you found someone you properly knew.

Captain Irene was occupied with talking to some other players and Alexia was nowhere to be seen, but luckily Aitana was stretching by herself on the side. There was also Cata, but she was in the goal, getting warmed up by Salma.

You almost sprinted to Aitana, relieved that you didn’t have to spend another second wandering around aimlessly.

“Aita," you said, dropping your boots on the ground before sitting down, shaking your slides off and loosening the laces of your boots.

She got up from her lunge position and smiled, "Hola. Where's Ale?"

You shrugged and returned to trying to get your boot on. "Stupid sock boots..." you grunted, the elastic sock snapping against your ankle, making you wince.

“Why are you on your own?” you asked her, tying the laces of your boots as you watched her extend her leg outwards and reach over to touch her toes.

“I thought you’d want to be without the others for a bit,” Aitana responded simply. She was right — it was a huge relief to find her amongst all the clusters of people.

You missed Frido. You missed Mapi and Patri and Pina. You missed Barcelona.

You wished you could skip straight to playing football without having to introduce yourself to anyone or learn their ways. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.

“I’m scared, Aita. What if they think I’m too physical, or I don’t play– ‘Spanish’ enough?” you ranted, folding your arms across your body.

Aitana sat back up, letting go of her foot to cross her legs as she gazed at you and began to speak.

“Pequeñita, if you’re worried about fitting in, don’t be,” she started, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You were there at the back when we needed you the most as our last-ditch defender, our last hope. If you weren’t so physical and dedicated to defending and not ‘Spanish enough’, we wouldn’t have a Champions League.”

You were born and raised in Spain, you knew Barcelona like the back of your hand and you spoke both languages. You were Spanish through and through, despite living in France for a couple odd years. You were Spanish. It was your idolisation of a non-Spanish, non-La Liga player that set you apart from the others.

You were about to respond, but your words were cut short by a tap on your shoulder. You glanced up, expecting to see Alexia, but it was Irene standing behind you.

“(Y/N), officials of the federation want to meet you,” she said in a low voice. You caught on to the way she glanced around, making sure nobody was around to hear.

Your eyes narrowed while Aitana’s widened, and you looked at Irene with an expression of uncertainty. “Do I have to go?”

You didn’t necessarily want to go, but you knew you weren’t left with much of a choice, and Irene’s nod confirmed that for you. You sighed, getting up from the grass and brushing off your shorts.

“Thank you, Aita,” you said, referring to the talk you two had earlier. She smiled and reached her hand out to squeeze yours gently, and you returned the gesture with a small smile of your own. “I’ll tell you everything!”

You left your gear in the care of Aitana as you and Irene made your way to the head office. You were nervous and a bit scared of what was about to happen, because the personal stories you’ve heard about the federation haven’t been good ones. Nonetheless, you walked beside Irene and waited in front of the mahogany wood door as she knocked on it, and it opened to reveal about three officials sitting around a table.

Your skin felt hot and feverish as you stepped over the threshold. The amount of eyes on you was unsettling, and if Irene wasn’t beside you, the feeling of discomfort blooming in your stomach would be way stronger.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the man at the door asked, and you nodded nervously. Your eyes flickered up to Irene whose jaw was set, her cold glare fixed on the man as he spoke to you, “Please, sit.”

You slowly walked to the nearest seat and sunk into it. Irene did the same, pulling out a seat beside you and crossing her arms across her chest.

A man across the table began to speak once you two had taken your seats, “(Y/N), we’ve been very eager to meet you ever since your debut in Liga F.”

You clenched your jaw, unsure of where this conversation was going. You simply nodded, trying to hold your tongue and refrain from speaking for as long as possible.

“You’re very talented, especially given your age. Barça’s prodigy, the new stargirl…” he continued.

Leaning across the table, he spoke, “I’ve never seen a player that plays like you, especially in Spain. Have you always played for Barça, or wanted to?”

Your answer came without any hesitation. “Barça is my home. I am Barça through and through, forever. I’m just inspired by someone else whose passion aligns with mine.”

“You’re different. I’ve seen your play style, and it goes hand in hand with fearlessness and elegance. That’s why we called you up because after one of our best defenders withdrew from the squad… we haven’t been the same.”

You didn’t need a rocket scientist to figure out who he was referring to. Your hands gripped the armrests of your seat as you responded, “I can’t replace the likes of Mapi.”

You were already sick and tired of this conversation. The mention of Mapi unsettled you all over again, because you knew that something happened between her and these very same officials that led to her withdrawing from representing her nation, and you didn’t want to be in the company of the people that forced her to feel such a way and make that decision.

“We’re working on fostering a healthy environment at our camps–”

Irene stood up, her chair scraping across the floor with an unpleasant noise that grabbed everyone’s attention. “Work harder. I don’t want anyone playing another season under poor leadership,” she snapped. Her arm shot down to yours, tugging you up gently. Her tone was everything but gentle.

“My player needs to get back to training. We’re done here.”

You were eternally grateful for Irene. You got to your feet and quickly exited the room, aware of her storming out and slamming the door behind you two.

“The federation has lacked a ‘healthy environment’ for a while,” Irene frowned, slowing down in pace and breaking into more of a stroll.

“Don’t let their shitty leadership make you feel bad about this opportunity. Just like everyone else, you’re here to play football and win the Olympics. Forget the federation.”

It was easier said than done — both of you knew that — but neither of you said anything about it as you walked back to the pitch.

When you entered into the grassy clearing, Aitana and Alexia were nearby practicing their headers. They stopped when they noticed you and Irene, and they quickly came over to you guys.

“What happened?” Aitana asked, her expression slightly concerned, much like Alexia’s. You told them about everything that happened in the meeting (with some help from Irene), and at the end of your explanation, the two Spaniards didn’t look any less concerned.

“We’re praying the new coach and president do something to change the culture in the federation,” Alexia finally said, and you sighed. “Let’s hope so.”

“La hija de Frido is staring,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from Aitana who glanced in her direction. Indeed, Athenea was looking at your group with a firm glare, her Real Madrid teammate on the side trying to grab her attention.

“What’s wrong with her? Did something happen?” Alexia asked, and you shrugged. “She doesn’t like me that much, I think. Maybe because, y’know, she’s not exactly a challenge for me to defend…” you said with a nervous smile. Aitana’s laughter only increased, and a smile appeared on Alexia’s face.

“Barça es la millor!” she cheered happily, embracing you in a side hug.

[faelayouts]

hi bff! Can you make Gracie abrams Taylor x Real Madrid or arsenal header please??

(For the header could you make it one full photo not the usual 3 pictures if yk what I mean :) )

[koobrina]

taylor swift icons + real madrid headers

like or rebelog if u used.

twitter @ hvrtzmount

[cosmicpearlz]

can you open up the door?

summary: you guys hated each other, so why does your heart feel broken when you see him with another girl?

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: i feel like i'm running out of ideas to write, please request anything! i absolutely love writing for jude and would love to hear what you wanna see/read :) anywho, enjoy my loves!

jude felt like he was on a high. winning the final cup with real madrid had been a dream come true. now, he gets to go home and relax before playing in the euro 2024 competition. although, going home also meant seeing the one person he dislikes. you and jude had a long history of hating/disliking each other. it was hard because of how much time you guys spend together, being that you not only shared the same friend group but the same best friend as well.

"you know jude is coming home, right?" trent says to you, while you rolled your eyes.

"yes yes, i know already. i promise to be on my best behavior," you attempted to give him your best smile. it only made the boy laugh at how you tried to hide your annoyance.

"why don't you guys like each other again? i feel like the two of you would be perfect together. a proper power couple if you ask me."

"never say that again. i wouldn't be caught-" before you could even finish your thought, jude comes through trent's door.

"daddy's home," you groaned at jude's crude language. upon hearing the groan, jude locks eyes with you. have you always been this pretty? somehow prettier than the last time he saw you. jude rids the thought out of his head and turns his attention to trent. they shared a hug before jude takes his seat right across from you on the other couch.

"you didn't tell me that you invited the yapper."

"and he didn't tell that the dickhead was coming. so i guess we're in the same boat," you crossed your arms to your chest and glared at jude.

"guys can we not start?"

"he literally started it first! i was here way before he came in and interrupted things."

"well guess who was in trent's life first? oh right, it was me. you're just some outsider that thinks she fits in but you don't."

you weren't sure why that hurt your feelings as much as it did. maybe because deep down, you felt like he was right. you moved from america to england for college as an exchange student and landed a job working for england's football team as their photographer. it's where you met trent and jude.

"you're such an asshole jude," you tried to ignore the stinging in your chest, as you packed up your stuff and getting ready walk to your apartment.

Jude began to feel guilty for obviously hurting your feelings. he doesn't know why he says what he says. it just comes out but he thinks that this time it was too far. trent had told him about how you felt a bit lonely sometimes being that you weren't from england, and here he had used it against you.

"dude," trent looks to jude with disappointment, as the door slams closed behind you.

"i know, i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it."

"why don't you guys get along?"

"i'm not even sure anymore. we just continue to hurt one another."

-

it's been weeks since you had last spoken to jude or trent. avoiding the both of them like the plague, pretending that you won't be leaving with them to germany in exactly two days. today, jobe had texted you that he was throwing a going away party for the three of you. you tried desperately tried to get out of going but the younger boy wasn't having it.

so you went, unfortunately. dressing in a black mini dress with the black red bottoms you saved up to purchase for graduation. finishing the look off with a red handbag. the loud music from the club greeted you, while you walked in.

"you made it!" jobe yells over the music, after seeing you walk in. you smiled and gave him a hug. it never made sense to you that jude's brother was nicer to you than he was.

"did i actually have a choice?"

"no."

"exactly," the two of you burst out into laughter, which caught jude's ears. he won't admit it to anyone but he knew your laugh like the back of his hand. it was one of things he liked about you.

"are you excited to leave for germany?"

"honestly, yes and no."

"why the no?" jobe leaned in closer to whisper, "anything to do with my brother?"

"no."

"i know when you're lying. it definitely has something to do with jude! why don't you guys just kiss and make up," you gasp at jobe and slapped his shoulder.

"news flash, we don't like each other. plus, i would never kiss him nor date him," you replied, causing the younger boy to roll his eyes.

jude overhead everything. would it really be so bad if you were to date him? he wasn't sure why that left a sour note in body but he was determined to not let it bother him. instead, deciding to occupy his time with the first pretty girl he saw. just to further deny those hidden feelings. to get over someone, might as well get under someone new.

-

"you've been avoiding me," you looked to find trent taking the seat next to you on the couch.

"i've simply been busy."

"doing what? moping?"

"hey, i don't mope."

"so what are you doing right now?"

"people watching." trent followed your line of vision, finding that you were looking at jude engaged in a conversation with a pretty girl. you watched as he moved closer to her, causing her to giggle and place a hand on his arm.

"you have feelings for jude." you quickly shake your head in defense.

"no i don't."

"stop lying to yourself. you guys are both attracted to each other but don't know how to act on it. you guys spent at least two years pretending to hate one another, why?"

"i don't know."

"but you do. just tell me why. i'm your best friend." somehow, your heartbeat felt as if it were louder than the music. you do remember why you originally started to dislike him but you've never said anything.

"it's because i overheard a conversation between the two of you. we were already friends but it was the day you were going to introduce me to jude. i heard him say 'she will never be on my level or in my league'." you felt your eyes water as you brought up the same awful feelings you felt back then.

"y/n that's not what he meant. you didn't hear the rest of conversation."

"whatever, i don't care." you pick up your handbag and stand to leave. the saltiness of the tears falling onto your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. trent stands up with you, trying to offer some sort of comfort that you didn't want. it was embarrassing enough to cry over someone that wouldn't even give you a second thought.

"i think i'm going to go home."

"y/n."

"i'm fine trent. please let me go," you whisper, not being able to look up from your heels. he nods at you and you take that cue to leave. rushing out of the loud atmosphere to the quiet outside air. jude's eyes follow your figure as you rushed out. immediately, he ignores the girl he was flirting with to follow you outside. you notice a tug on your arm, turning around you see the last person you wanna see.

"jude, i'm not in the mood."

"what's wrong?"

"why would i tell you? go flirt with the girl you were just with."

"well something is wrong with you and i want to make sure you're okay."

"why do you even care? i'm just an outsider trying desperately to fit in, right?" you watched as jude's mouth opens and closes, with furrowed brows, you scoffed.

"exactly. goodnight jude," you took one more look at him before getting into your uber that happened to show up at the right time.

jude walks back into the club with an angry expression on his face. he was more mad at himself rather than anyone in specific. he walks to trent, who was sitting in the same spot, nursing the same drink.

"please tell me what happened. i knew she was okay and then i seen her walk out."

"i totally knew it. you guys have feelings for each other!"

"trent."

"she was looking at you with the girl at the bar and finally told me why you guys don't like each other. turns out, it was complete miscommunication. y/n overheard you say 'she'll never be on my level or in my league'. i tried telling her that you didn't mean it like that but she didn't want to hear it."

the realization dawned on Jude as he thought back to that day. trent showed him one picture and he swore that he could have fallen in love right there. you had mixed his words up to rejection rather than realizing he meant that you were too good for him. maybe he could have worded it differently. you guys certainly wouldn't be in this mess now. would you guys be wrapped up in the same bed sheets whispering to each other? would you be at his football matches in madrid? would you visit him and let him show you around? a whole year he's played on the team and a whole year you could have already been his.

-

you were relaxed in your bed, having criminal minds in the background. the only sort of comfort you could find. stupid feelings and stupid jude. you wanted the floor to swallow you whole and then maybe you wouldn't have to deal with this.

a knock on the door draws your attention. who would be knocking at two o'clock in the morning? you get up from your bed, walking into the living room towards the door. you opened the door, finding Jude standing there with a small smile.

"what do you want?"

"to talk."

"no," you closed the door before the boy could say anything else. jude takes this sign to keep knocking, instead of just leaving.

"open the door. please, just hear me out and I'll leave you alone afterwards." you leaned your head on the door debating on letting him in.

"open up the door. i'm not leaving until you do." you finally open the door after two minutes, afraid that the knocking was going to bother your apartment neighbors. you pulled him inside and closed the door once again.

"what do you-"

"you have it all wrong. what you overheard was wrong. i meant that you looked like you were too good for me. that i didn't even deserve to try and win you over. how could you ever think differently? you are the prettiest girl i've ever known-"

"jude."

"i was only rude to you because that's what you did to me when we first met. there are so many things i wish i did differently. i could be the one kissing your tears away and not causing them. you're not an outsider, far from it actually-"

"jude!" you finally got the boys attention, locking eyes with him. you couldn't believe that your feelings were returned. all the time that was wasted. without a second thought, you pulled his shirt collar and kissed him. your lips molded together perfectly. a sudden eagerness that made the kiss more intense. jude's hand slipping under your pajama top, to touch your bare skin trying feel closer to you. you pulled away first, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

"i'm so sorry sweetheart. i didn't mean of it." jude swipes away the tears that fell from your eyes.

"i'm sorry too."

"you have nothing to apologize for. it's my fault."

"it takes two to tango jude. i've said some pretty awful stuff too and i'm sorry."

"where do we go from here? what do you truly want y/n? if you want to pretend this never happened, i'll comply." his eyes trailing your face for some sort of sign.

"i just want you."

"you have me baby. you always have," jude whispers, before connecting your lips together once more.

[cutielando]

can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

just friends? | c.s.

my masterlist

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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how did it end? | arsenal x reader

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm, alcohol abuse, depression

um yeah lol feel grateful for this because i’m going to go ghost mode for the rest of the week! to the anons who have a problem with my writing, don’t fucking read this if it’s such a problem, in fact don’t read any of my stuff at all, my page is a better place without you.

Everything about the day had felt wrong.

Everything about your last month had felt wrong, really the whole year if you thought about it.

It had all started after a blindside move from your home club. Leaving Rsenal had been the worst thing that had ever happened, but you’d known it was coming after they’d signed Russo. There was only so much room for strikers on the team, and your contract happened to be out as the summer started, leaving you as a free agent.

Somehow, you’d ended up at PSG, which you still didn’t understand. There had been offers everwhere, Lyon, Real Madrid, Man City, Chelsea, Bayern, Wolfsburg, yet your manager had fucked you and gone for PSG.

It had been a clusterfuck from the day you’d arrived, the language barrier, your horrible mental state, the different playing structure, the weather, your lonely apartment, the lack of friendships, the lack of support.

It had taken a month before you’d crashed and burned, withdrawing yourself from both club and national team. You’d been lower then low, sadder then sad, completely withdrawn from your own life. You wish you’d stayed, you wish that none of it had of happened, because maybe life wouldn’t have turned out the way it had, maybe you’d be happier.

Your Arsenal teammates had visited as often as the schedule permitted, helped you move your whole life from one country to the other, but at the end of the day you were still hundreds of miles away from them.

You’d stopped answering their calls after a few weeks, too consumed with the completely inebriating struggle that you were going through in Paris, trying to stay true to yourself whilst being so far in the deep end of the pool that you were struggling to keep your head above the water.

After the call to Sarina and the call to your manager it had made more sense for you to return to London, even if it had pained you to do so.

Not a month after you’d packed your whole life away against your will, you were packing it all back up.

You didn’t like what happened in Paris, you weren’t proud of it, all you wanted was to get back to your house in St. Albans, but you were also terrified of what your ‘home’ looked like now. It wasn’t the same place it had been for the last 8 years, you didn’t have your bestfriends as teammates more, you didn’t have any teammates, you were unofficially, self-decidedly, retired. Sarina had begged for you to return, tried to reckon with you, but you were done, your love for the game had died in Paris and you had no desire to re-open the wounds that had been torn into your skin in France.

You didn’t tell anyone, you just hoped that you’d be able to avoid everyone for as long as possible, that you’d just be able to slowly become nonexistent and become forgotten by everyone from the past 20 years of your life, but you were aware that life didn’t work that way.

You were sick of all the pain you were going through, all the suffering that you were being forced to endure for no good reason. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, you didn’t feel like you had anybody to talk to about it, it was just you nowadays.

That was how you spent most of your nights, alone.

Alone with a bottle of your posion of choice sitting on your bathroom floor.

It was the only thing that made it all better nowadays, the feeling of alcohol slipping down your throat, typically with a razor blade in your other hand.

There was something satisfying about it all, something perfect about being perfectly intoxicated with a sliver of metal between your finger tips.

On this particular day, you knew you’d drunk to much, but it had all been wrong. You’d woken up with a headache, in your shower, the tiles of your floor stained with your own blood. It wasn’t a uncommon place for you to wake up anymore, but everything about it felt wrong. Your head was aching in a way it never had, your whole body was hurting and for some reason it all just felt off.

You went about your normal routine, pushing the temperature of your shower to as hot as it would go, finding peace in the blistering water falling down across your skin. Once your skin was bright red you’d climb out, falling into your bed to help to sleep off the rift that the hangover had left inside of you. Around midday you would climb out of your bed, slipping out from the covers to enjoy your few hours of life that your days now gave you. Sometimes it would be spent in your kitchen, trying your hardest to piece together some kind of sustenance, other days making and eating food was too hard. On this particular day, you forgoed your kitchen, instead opting to walk straight past it and out onto your patio, as per the usual london weather, it was pouring down, but you didn’t mind too much.

The rain was nice, it reminded you that not everything in life was pretty, your life certainly wasn’t pretty anymore. Rain was a reminder that everyday could be turned upside down just based off of something that was completely out of anybodys control.

After deciding it was a bit too wet to enjoy the outdoors you tracked your way back indoors, your bare feet creasing and digging into the hard, cold wood floors of your home. You eyed off your uncomfortable couch, the one that your manager had found on facebook marketplace which was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture you thought could be bought. It kind of felt like a metaphor for you, you’d been bought, and it had been the worst decision PSG had made, and you were destined, just like the couch, to be thrown away without anybody really knowing or caring.

You walked straight past the couch and back to your bed, there wasn’t any living for you to do today, it just felt that way, so you pulled the covers back over your body and enjoyed the moment of peace that your bed gave you.

It didn’t last long, your body relaxing into the mattress for a few seconds before the restlessness took over. It was like that nowadays, your body never able to stop. You figured it was probably a result of your body going from pushing its limits everyday, mentally and physically to you doing absolutely nothing. Previously, when you’d been in a depressive episode you would sleep all day, no matter what had been happening, but not anymore. Now, you had to drink yourself into oblivion before your body would force itself to relax, you could be as exhausted and tired as you wanted but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep.

Your brain convinced you that your mattress was the lumpiest mattress made, when you really knew you’d hand picked it for it’s comfort. You brain tricked you into feeling like all of your curtains were wide open on a summers day when really they were drawn closed. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

That’s how you’d ended up on your bathroom floor so early, the overwhelming need for you to fix the pain becoming too much for you. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and your scared silver blade in the other you finally found yourself at peace.

The stomachache and burn of the vodka going down your throat didn’t truly matter, not when you were staring down at the thin criss cross of lines all over your thighs.

Some were healed, some were thick, some were thin, some were sore. They all told a different story. Thighs were the easiest, less arteries, good to hide, disguisable. They didn’t bleed the same way wrists did, they bled slow and painfully, a couple of lines never hurt you.

With the mix of last nights alcohol though and the new vodka mixed with the sight of blood you found yourself feeling woozy.

You hadn’t always been a cutter, self-harm hadn’t always been your vice. It had always been football. From the minute the ball was at your feet it had been football, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. It had been your everything, football had been your life and until it had been taken from you, you hadn’t understood the true magnitude of what that meant. Your life had no purpose, no substance, nothing, without your game. Football had been the only thing you were good at, and you were extremely good at it. You’d given up on school in pursuit of your footballing career and it had been worth it, up until now.

Now your life was nothing but a big mess.

You wished it had worked out in Paris, you wished that you’d been able to farewell London and make a new home in France, but it hadn’t meant to be. All of your talent, all of your love, all of your passion, it was all for nothing now. Everything you’d ever done amounted to nothing, you were nothing without a pair of boots on your feet and a football in front of you.

You were never going to be the same again, it was all different now, and you were man enough to admit that you missed what you’d had. There were things that you lost in life, in the heartbreak and the struggles, you just hadn’t expected that you would lose the meaning of your life in the process. You had a hard time understanding why it had to happen to you, why you’d been the unlucky one. You paid your dues, you’d woken up at 5am every single morning to run drills, you’d worked your ass of and yet here you were, drunk on your bathroom floor wishing that you were gone.

Once upon a time you’d believed that a person would do anything for the thing that they loved most in the world, but you didn’t believe ion that anymore, love was supposed to be the most powerful thing on earth, and yet it had failed you.

It was funny because you could drink all of the alcohol you wanted but it never made you forget about what you’d lost. The hundreds of memories of football over the years, Arsenal, it had all been Arsenal. You’d been the kind of player where you’d always been one club, from academy all the way through to the senior team, you bled arsenal. Nobody even asked you what your dream team was, because it had always been Arsenal, you hadn’t had eyes for anywhere else. Yet you’d been thrown away like nothing.

You’d loved playing for Arsenal, when you put your jersey on at the beginning of every game you felt ten times stronger, qall of your bestest friends had been at Arsenal, your bridesmaids, your for life friends, and yet now it all felt like you were drifting away.

For the longest time you’d chosen the good options, the healthy options, what was right.

Now though, you chose destruction.

You sleep when your blackout drunk.

You drink caffeine late at night.

You stay awake until your eyes burn.

You always say yes to whatever vice your brain can think of.

You drink water instead of food and vodka instead of water,

You’re isolated beyond the point of it being okay, nowadays you spend more time with yourself then anybody else.

Maybe it was the vodka that made you feel particularly adventurous, or the scent of your own blood seeping across your skin, but whatever it was it somehow inclined you to reach for your phone which was rested on the tiles besides you.

You’d turned your notifications off long ago, as soon as the trade had come through.

You’d ignored everyone’s messages for the sake of preserving your own mental state, you couldn’t deal with the constant back and forth of trying to keep friendships which felt like had already gone.

You were more intoxicated than normal, or that was how you rationalized your behaviour, because there really wasn’t any other explanation to it, unless all of the emotions from the last few months had suddenly hit you a lot harder then normal.

But you were sick of being alone, you knew that, you’d been alone for far too long.

Maybe the alcohol had pushed that to the forefront to your mind, or you’d just become inherently desperate.

Your phone rang, the sound vibrating against the tile floor of the bathroom, amplifying it to your ears, the noise ringing out in your ear canal.

It didn’t take long for the ringing to cease, the sound of silence absorbing around you.

“y/n? Is that you?”

You blinked a few times, swallowing down the final remnants of your last swig of vodka.

“Hey.”

Your voice was shaky, from the days of not saying any words at all, you didn;t have any reason to speak if you were all by yourself.

“Hi.”

The silence stayed thick, obviously neither of you unsure about what to say.

“Are you okay, no ones heard anything from you in a few weeks.”

You’d vanished, for the good of yourself.

“I wish I’d stayed, le.”

Their was a deep breath exhaled from the other side of the line.

“I wish you’d stayed too, y/n.”

You couldn’t think of a single positive that had come from you leaving, not a single one.

“I wish I’d stayed now, I wish I’d been given the chance.”

You could fele the tears building up in the corners of your eyes.

“Me too, y/n.”

The tears were falling, the water falling from your cheeks falling onto the blood on your legs, the two liquids mixing together, the blood turning into red as they two mixed, blood did run thicker than water.

“I wish i’d stayed le, I wish none of this had happened.”

You didn’t want to know what the blonde on the other side of the phone was thinking about at this moment, you weren;t thinking about her, just yourself.

“Hold in there kid, for me, it’s all going to work itself out.”

There was no working it out, this was the end for you.

“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t pretend that i wish I hadn’t of stayed, that I don’t spend everyday regretting it, I want it all back.”

You pushed the blade down against your skin again.

Drawing the metal against your skin until the blood had begun to pool at the base of the two or three inch line.

“Where are you kid, are you in Paris? Do you need me to send someone to come and check on you? You shouldn’t be drinking like this by yourself, especially not in season.”

There wasn’t a season for you anymore, you were free, you could do whatever you pleased.

“I’m at home, and I’m fine.”

You pulled the blade up, and onto a new patch of skin, it was all littered with past scars, raised white lines.

“You don’t sound fine kid, I have plenty of friends in France, don’t make me get them to come and hunt you down.”

Her voice was an attempt at threatening, but it sounded more worried then anything.

“I’m not in Paris, I left after my contract was annulled.”

Annulled aka we’re letting you go without any pay but you still technically belong to us until the length of your contract is up.

“Annulled?”

You would have thought Sarina would have told the team, but apparently not.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m retired.”

Retired was not a word that you thought should fall from a twenty four year olds mouth, but here you were.

“Retired? Where are you, y/n?”

You supposed the alcohol might have been making your tongue a little bit looser.

“In my house, in my bathroom.”

Another deep exhale, you could just picture the woman pinching the bridge of her nose, maybe even frowning.

“Your house, where?”

You picked up the bottle of alcohol, taking a break from the razor blade to allow the vodka to ease back down your oesophagus.

“St Albans.”

The line went silent for a few seconds.

“You’re back home, since when?”

Another sip of your vodka.

“Couple of weeks, France wasn’t for me.”

France was the end of you.

“How much have you been drinking? You sound awful.”

You didn’t think you sounded that bad, but you also supposed a sober person would have a different perspective.

“Vodka, feels good le.”

Another deep exhale.

“I’m going to come over.”

Rustling on the other side of the phone.

“I’m fine, I’m good, you don’t need to come over.”

You were lying to both yourself and Leah.

“You aren’t fine, you aren’t good, and even if you want to tell yourself you are, I need to see you in real life because for the last months I’ve thought you were as good as dead. Are you safe, y/n?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question, you hadn’t felt safe with yourself in what felt like forever.

“I’m not unsafe.”

More rustling on the other side of the line.

“Do I need to bring somebody with me? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

You thought about it for a few seconds.

“I’m okay Le.”

The alcohol made you feel more okay then you had been, so you supposed it wasn;t fully a lie.

“You’re drunk at 6pm, I don’t think you are fine. I’m going to go get Viv, she knows how to deal with you when you’re spiralling, I’m going to stay on the phone with you and ask you some questions, okay, I’m walking out to my car now.”

You nodded your head, the realized that Leah wasn’t in front of you.

“Answer me honestly, are you safe right now, do you feel safe?”

You didn’t feel unsafe, you kewn by the looks of things, you were in a unsafe position. Alcohol and self harm wasn’t exactly the safest thing, but you felt at peace, and you knew that you weren’t causing any serious bodily harm to yourself.

“Depends on your perspective.”

You heard the sound of car doors.

“Okay, I’ll break it down, hmm? Are you within arms reach of something that could cause harm to you or others?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

The sound of the phone connecting to bluetooth and keys in a ignition.

“What?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“Bottle of vodka and a blade.”

It wasn’t hard for you to admit, not when this had been how you’d spent all of your nights the last while.

“What kind of blade?”

You wished you’d stayed, you wished you weren’t in this position.

“Razor.”

You could feel the bile rising in your throat, whether it was alcohol related or from the cosntant questions.

“Alright, I want you to push them both as far away from you as possible, don’t look at them, don’t think about them, think about me. Now, have you caused yourself any harm?”

God, if you’d been able to stay none of this would be happening, none of it.

“Some cuts, le I think I’m going to be sick.”

The tears were full throttle, the sound of somebody’s voice that you’d missed so much in your ears and the vomit bottling itself up in your throat.

“Go to the toilet bowl, let it out.”

The taste of bile in your throat was never going to be something you enjoyed, the feeling of the new cuts along your thighs creasing as you crouched over the bowl stinging in a way that reawakened you.

The vomiting didn’t really stop, the continuous gagging being the only sound in your bathroom, beside the sound of Leah’s car.

Eventually, you finished, all of the clearish liquid mixed with your stomach acid sitting at the bottom of the bowl like a disgusting soup.

You laid down against your tiles, enjoying the cold that covered your skin.

Viv must have been picked up, because you could hear her and Beth talking in the background, beth, happy beth, beth who had once been your bestest friend.

“Bubba, you still with us, we’re just around the corner.”

You let out a groan in aggreance.

They continued to talk to you, allowing you to reply with different huffs and noises as they neared closer and closer to your home.

You ignored the hit of endorphins that you felt melt across you at the sound of your front door unlocking, Leah had kept your key, clearly.

It was a few seconds before your bathroom was crowded by the presence of your past teammates, the three sets of eyes all falling on you.

“Beth, go get a wet handwasher, Leah go get her some water.”

Viv’s voice was soft, but commanding, her body immediately gravitating to your own.

She crouched down beside you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you upwards, bringing you eye to eye with her.

“It’s good to have you back.”

You burst into tears, you’d hated being in St Albans out of fear that you’d be rejected, that you’d be told to go back to France, and yet here you were being welcomed back with open arms.

“I wish I’d stayed vivi, I wish I’d stayed, I wish none of this had happened, I want it all back, I want my life back. I can’t do this life anymore.”

Viv brought you into her arms.

“I know liefje, I know, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure it out, but we need to get you safe first, and this isn’t it. You need to be in a better place.”

If Viv had a problem with the way thart you clinged to her clothes, literally holding on for dear life, then she didn’t brign it up.

“You could have called one of us earlier you know, when you were struggling in France. You could have called me, you know I’ve been where you are, I’ve moved and hated every single part of it, we could have helped you before it had gotten this bad.”

You shook your head.

“Nobody could have helped me vivi, nothing could have helped me, I was done, I’m done.”

Viv nodded into you.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, and then you’ll go back to Leah’s house, and then we’ll work on fixing this, okay, Kyra’s going to be so happy to know you’re back, she’s missed you, the bloody kid hasn’t shut up about you and she only knew you for a week. Kim’s been contacting everybody, trying to figure out where you were, her little protege, she’s been hardly functioning, we all have been, you can’t just disappear on us like that, you had us all worried sick.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Really?”

Viv let go of you a bit, to get a proper look at you.

“Just because you’re forced to leave doesn’t make you any less Arsenal. You can take the girl out of arsenal but not arsenal out of the girl. No matter where you go, or what you do, you’re always going to be one of us.”

You could feel more tears beginning to form.

“I don’t know how it could have ended how it did vivi.”

You felt the Dutch take a deep breath.

“I don’t know either, but we’ve got you alright, we’ve got you now, we won’t let you leave, your staying with us forever, you took a year off of my life for everyday that you ghosted us.”

You looked down and around you, at the mostly empty vodka bottle, the blood, the scars, it all, and you didn’t know how it had all ended up like this.

“How did it all end vivi?”

Viv looked at you, just as lost as you felt.

“We’re going to figure it out.”

——————————————————————

just thought i’d end this with a little etiquette lesson for any anons xo

if you feel like dropping hate over this in my inbox… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at me for this fic… don’t.

if you feel like making personally rude arguments about me… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at for me for expressing my struggles with writing and sometimes making mistakes… don’t.

just don’t. go touch some grass, go for a run, buy a new fucking vibrator. i can guarantee you will get more pleasure from a good orgasm then dropping aimless hate in my inbox.