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peaky-shelby · 1 year

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NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [8]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

» chapter 8: life is just a classroom

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» writers note: good luck???

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries @superswaggycooch @lunasmindinwriting

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His dark eyes glowed in the dark as they looked up at her. His face half hidden in between her thighs. A dangerous view. Her hand grasping on the sheet. Her scream expressed in a gasp of air because her vocal chords felt broken. His hands glued on her, leaving invisible tattoos anywhere he’d touch her. He head appeared whole , he reached closer to her lips. He dived in her neck. Biting her ear. His heartbeat an echo in the dark room.

Knock.

Getting louder. His lips on hers, her sitting up just to be closer, to taste ever part of his lips she could, her hands all too familiar with the back of his head and his hair in between them.

Knock. Knock.

Was that hers or his heartbeat? Was it both in the same rhythm. Her eyes close.

“Taylor” he whispers and it’s a sound she could get drunk on. She takes in a heavy breath; she took in his smell. It’s so wrong. She opened her eyes. He smirked. Behind him she can see the stands, they’re not in her room.

Knock. Knock.

“Taylor!” His voice come out clearer now. He leans in to kiss her again, but she only focuses on where they are. The field. There’s something incredibly romantic about an empty field.

“Taylor!”

She jumped on the bed, her heart beating faster than the drums on a rock song, reaching for air. A hand pushing her thigh, she flinched, screamed, and fell off the bed.

Knock. Knock.

“Open the goddamn door.” Sayd Trish in a gruff and tired voice, her face half hidden in the pillows. Taylor looked around confused, she rubs her head. Her mind stuck on the dream or memory whatever it was. Like someone had set a curse for her to be controlled by him.

Knock!

She got up, tried to steady herself and looked through the peephole. A suited important looking man, black skinned and tall. She opened the door slightly, peaking her head in between.

“What could you possibly want from me?” she asked, not in the mood for conversation.

“Monsieur Mbappe m'a envoyé chercher sa voiture. Si vous pouviez me donner les clés, s'il vous plaît.”

She would have reacted if she knew what the hell he was talking about. Instead, she remained frozen as she was, a dumbfounded, brain cell burned expression on her face.

“Madame va bien ? J'ai juste besoin des clés.”

“What on earth are you on about?”

“Les Cles pour la voiture!”

Maybe if she hadn’t just woken up from a scary dream she would have understood it faster but all she could hear were noises with an accent. Suddenly she was pushed on the side by Trish. A very angry looking Trish, who started speaking in French to communicate with the guy. Taylor stood watching a little surprised by her friend.

“He wants Kylian’s keys!” she said quickly.

Taylor raised her eyebrows, processing and slowly understanding. She looked at the clock tied around her wrist, than back at the unknown guy “It’s 6am” she spat out. They guy seemed to be saying something else, but she couldn’t follow again. Trish was already looking around the house for the car keys while Taylor was contemplating murder, not of the guy but of Kylian. Her friend found the keys under the desk, Luna sitting next to them. She grabbed them and gave them to the employee, faking a smile. “Bonjour!” she said quickly and closed the door. Taylor kept her hand on the door, her eyes settling on Trish.

“I’m going to murder him.”

“If he wakes me up again at 6am, I’m murdering both of you!” she said and went straight for the coffee machine.

“This is an act of war” mumbled Taylor, already planning her own attack in her mind “What does he even need the car for at 6am in the morning? Why would he be awake at 6am in the morning? This was planned! That’s why he gave me the keys in the first place—”

“TAYLOR! TAYLOR! Please, I just woke up, lower your bloody voice.” She complained, starting the coffee machine. “Why is this so noisy?” she bent her head on the counter groaning.

“Since when do you speak French?” she asked, getting closer to her friend.

“I was paying attention in class, wasn’t kicking balls all the time like you.” She paused, smirking “not in sports at least, you know.”

“Oh my god.” Her disgust was visible on her tone. She went and sat back on the bed, pulling the sheets and the blankets over her head “it’s too early for this.”

“You know...” she dropped sugar on her coffee “if you two started fucking each other on regular basis, I think it would solve a lot of problems—”

Taylor threw the sheets away from her face, looking at her “are you out of your mind?”

Trish picked up her coffee, smiling and sat on the edge of the bed “girl you were whispering his name in your sleep—” Taylor sat up in shock, her eyes widening in fear. She held her mouth with her hand. “I’m just saying. You are not exactly subtle. Neither is he. Ramos knows he has a hate-crush on you.” She took a sip from her cup, her eyes staying and watching at Taylor’s expressions. She was enjoying this, she kept opening her mouth like she was going to say something, but no actual words would leave her mouth. She raised her finger.

“Which reminds me—” she started changing the subject “you and Ramos are a little too close, aren’t you?” she asked. Trish laughed, winking. “You never talk to a guy that hot unless you plan to fuck him or have fucked him already and you are leaving to go back to England tonight so—” her voice trailed off, her eyes getting bigger “Oh my god you already fucked him.” Trish sipped loudly on her coffee, a slight smirk on her face as she left the cup down and got up to go to the bathroom. “You slept with one of my players?”

“So did you.” She reminded her from the other room, the water running on the sink. Taylor didn’t have an answer to that, so she just dropped herself back on the bed, sinking in the pillows, wishing it was an ocean instead. Her palms reached for her face, rubbing it and muffling the loud groan that came out of her throat. Trish came back in the room, looking fresh and less like a half awaken zombie. “Besties that fuck the same team, stay together? Or something like that—”

“Trish please”

Trish laughed, picking up some of her shirt from the floor and leaving them on the bed before getting each one to fold them carefully. “Listen, the only reason we are alive is to eat and have sex—”

“OH MY GOD. It’s not happening!” she got up, pushing her hair out of her face “It was just a moment of weakness! Me and him it can’t happen because I’ve already given up my writing for this team— I’m not risking my job for a fuck. End of discussion.” She took her phone and left for the bathroom, closing the door with a thud that made Trish jump.

But Trish smiled because she knew her friend all too well. The door to the bathroom opened again just a few seconds later. Trish studied her friend who had her face stuck on her phone, looking at something important. “What happened, did he text you?”

“No…” she murmured “it’s official.”

“what’s official? Taylor what’s going on?” Taylor handed the phone over to her friend, showing her a post on Instagram. An article about her joining the team. Trish started reading “PSG hires ex female player and journalist as a coach consult before QATAR TOUR 23” They looked at each other, all sort of emotions appearing in their faces. “why do you look like a ghost? This is good news! Are you ok?”

“No, I am not ok.” She confessed, her eyes saddening, worry reflecting on them as realization hit her harder than it had so far “I slept with one of my players.” She paused, her brows lowering, the blood leaving her face. Her voice coming out weak and broken “and I liked it.”

TRAINING CAMPUS / GYM – DAY

“You’re here early.” Mumbled Hakimi when he saw Kylian coming in, already dressed and ready.

“Don’t want to give her any excuses to blow her whistle on my face again.” He said, jumping on the treadmill next to Hakimi. “What about you?”

“We have the fitting for DIOR in the afternoon, wanted to finish before that—”

Kylian almost tripped as he stopped running for a second. He held on to the treadmill to regain his balance and looked at Hakimi “That’s today?”

“Yeah, why? You had other plans?”

“Meant to meet a friend. What time?”

“I’m planned for 5. I don’t know about you. Leo was scheduled for 3 maybe you’re with him.”

“They are separating us?”

“yes” he said simply and continued running. He heard footsteps coming from the entrance and he looked behind him, taking a quick peak. It was Ramos, looking at his phone.

“You guys saw the announcement?”

“What announcement?”

“I think you’d rather get off the treadmill first.” He smiled. Kylian glanced at him. He hesitated but stepped of the treadmill and snatched his phone from him. Reading the same announcement that Taylor had read, his expression copying hers because the same realization hit him like a car, because there was no more hiding on the sin they had committed.

“Merde…” he whispered.

“You ok Man?” asked Ramos, a smirk on his face. Hakimi got off his treadmill too, moving in between them to read whatever they were reading. His first reaction was to look at his best friend, unlike Ramos, Hakimi wasn’t smiling. He was worried, he knew much more and saw way more than he was letting on. Kylian left without saying anything.

“Holy shit.” Was all Hakimi said.

TRAINING CAMPUS / OUTSIDE AREA – DAY

Fog. Cold. Grey skies and grey feelings. All of those things expressing the emotions of almost everyone in the field.

Taylor saw him when she came, passing by her on the hall. Walking in different directions, their energy touching on another. She kept her eyes on the floor while he moved next to her, and he stared blankly in front of him like he hadn’t even seen her. Still, there was a sense of electricity that charged both of them when they walked passed one another. An electricity that made her close her eyes and him close his fist. No jokes, no side eyes. Nothing.

She was in the middle of the field, watching the players moving in between the obstacles. Sometimes they’d stop, they’d fool around. Marquinhos accidently stepped on Neymar and he smacked him on the back of his neck. That started a little game of chasing each other around. She would have blew her whistle sooner if she didn’t get carried away by seeing Neymar laughing like that. She had missed that dork.

“Wilock!” she turned around, meeting Linda, the secretary. “You’re on the third batch. You have a fitting at 5.” She gave her a little card that had her name and a number on it, number 16. She felt a burden on her soldiers.

“What’s this for?”

“DIOR Fitting. You’re part of the team now, they wanna show off their new girl.”

“Wai—wait” she cleared her throat “Did you just say DIOR, or is that another French word I don’t understand?”

Linda laughed, shaking her head “just be outside at 4:30. They’ll drive you and a few more of the players at the fitting.” She said and left but Taylor had so many questions. She read the card again, narrowing her eyes, like she was trying to read in between the lines. She turned it around, her pupils dilating when she saw the stamp on the back “bitch really said DIOR.” She mouthed an inaudible ‘oh my god’ before someone violently crashed on her back, causing her to misstep and ran a few steps in order to not fall. She looked behind her, Kimpembe standing there with his hands raised claiming his innocence. “Wasn’t me!” he said quickly and looked to his left. Bernat was on the ground there, bent to his knees, breathing heavily. He waved his hand, apologizing quickly.

She put the whistle back in between her lips and blew it. Everyone closing their ears.

“I want her whistle privileges revoked.” Complained Neymar at Marquinhos.

Kylian, standing also next to Neymar, overheard the comment. He pulled his neck warmer up, glaring at her from a distance. She caught it, looked in his direction while players moved in the space between them. She put the whistle back in her mouth and blew it, coldly at him.

TRAINING CAMPUS / ENTRANCE – DAY

Taylor walked out, looking at the card, back and forth, again and again. She kept thinking that the words on it would disappear eventually and all of it would turn out to be a prank. One of the employees, held her arm to lead her on the right van. She followed with no complained, her disbelief showing in her face. The employee opened the door for her and nodded for her to go kin.

“Merci” she mumbled and stepped inside, still looking at the card. She slid on the window seat, until her thigh bumped on someone else’s. She looked up, realizing she wasn’t alone in the car.

Hakimi gave her an awkward smile, waving at her. She cleared her throat and moved a few inches away from him, looking away. A few moment later Sergio came on the van, sliding next to her. Then Neymar, sitting across from her and—

“Oh, for crying out loud—” she murmured when she saw him bending himself to get in the car. He stopped when he saw her. Tension rising in seconds. She looked away but she had no idea where to keep her eyes on. She didn’t want to look at Hakimi and she couldn’t look at Neymar either. Looking at Ramos made her stomach twist because she could see Trish all over him. So, the choices were two, ceiling or the floor. She tried the floor first, but her eyes kept looking at his feet. She bit her tongue and laid her head back, staring at the ceiling instead.

“You alright?” asked Ramos.

“Parfait.” she said.

Kylian’s eyes arose in the sound her voice. Hakimi noticed the look his was giving him, a look mixed with crave and anger. He kicked his ankle, to get him back on reality. Kylian looked at him, his expression softening.

“Exercising your French?” questioned Ramos.

“Only so I can yell at you in both languages.” She said simply, keeping her eyes closed.

“Je veux te voir essayer.” Prompted Kylian. She lowered her head, her eyes meeting his. Being locked in a car with him, in such an enclosed space felt wrong. It felt like she was trapped. Her palms were sweating as she thought about last night’s dreams, her dirty thoughts racing at the corner of her mind. She was feeling naked, the more that he looked at her, having to remind herself that they weren’t alone in the car. The only words she picked out was “je veux” which she knew meant “I want”. She had no idea what the rest of was but still decided to torment him.

“Do you?” she asked. Seeing the fear and surprise when he thought she understood him. He was intrigued.

Now it was Neymar’s turn to notice, the way they glared at each other. Like they were going to attack one another in seconds. He and Hakimi locked their eyes, understanding each other, Neymar slowly picking on the tension.

“Hey chill out. Both of you! Jesus.” He waved his hand between them to ruin their moment, feeling weird just by watching them. “Santo inferno.” He mumbled in Brazilian. Taylor looked back at the ceiling again. His eyes would unwilling always find their way back to her but in his defense, he tried to look away.

“Bonjour, bonjour! Je m’appelle Diego! Je suis heureux de vous rencontrer.” Diego was really energetic, dressed in what looked like an expensive suit. Incredibly tall and pretty. He looked so elegant, she thought. As she followed everyone inside the venue. Elise was waiting for them inside, smiling when she saw everyone.

“bonjour!” she said, shaking everyone’s hand. “Venez avec moi. Les loges sont à l’étage.” She explained and motioned for them to follow. Taylor was walking slowly behind them in the back, studying the venue. It was big, with cameras set around and white sheets. She imagined it’s where the boys would be photographed later. While going upstairs with them she noticed how expensive everything looked. Golden and fashionable. Then they reached the room.

The room was separated in small private spaces, that everyone could go change in respectively. There were mirrors around for them to look at themselves after they were dressed. She stood behind Neymar, gulping.

Elise walked up to her smiling “Ta robe dans un de ceux-là.” She said and pointed at the third fitting box.

“Elle ne parle pas français.” Said Kylian quickly, Taylor looked up at him annoyed.

“Oh um.... Your dress…in there. You…change.” Taylor was looking at Kylian while Elise spoke, with her broken English, twisting her tongue.

“Merci” she said, glancing back at Elise.

Kylian smiled, winked even and walked in his fitting room. Taylor did the same shortly after, closing the curtain behind her as well as she could. When she turned around she found the dress. Blue, the color of the team and magnificent. Hanged up on one side of your fitting room “oh my god” she whispered, getting closer and touching it with her thumb. “This is beautiful.”

He could hear her changing from his fitting room, next to hers. Her clothes falling on the floor, her feet moving around the small space. He buttoned up his white shirt as quickly as he could so he’d stop listening to those sounds because it was doing something to him. He walked out, Diego clapping for him and saying he looked amazing. He led him to one of the mirrors and helped him put on the jacket of the suit.

“it feels a little long”

“That’s cause we haven’t adjusted it yet.” Said Diego. Another woman came next to him, examine the suit while holding a box of needles on her hands the other boys started coming out, following the same process while the tailors adjusted their suits for them.

“Elise!” called Taylor from inside her fitting room. Kylian turned to her direction only by the sound of her voice but she was still inside. Elise rushed in to help her while one of tailors reminded Kylian to keep his body straight and steady. He obeyed looking at himself in the mirror until he saw her reflection, walking out of the curtain dressed in the navy blue dress, tied around her neck by two very thin threads, and a length that got just a little over her knees. He couldn’t notice anything wrong with it, maybe because he was too focused on her bare feet and how good they looked on her new pair of black heels. He knew that heat in his chest, all too well by now, she was the only one that could ignite it. Ramos came out of his curtain a few seconds later, whistling when he saw her. That made him mad. Elise led her on the other side of the room, behind him, that allowed him to still be able to look at her reflection while they tailored her dress, shortening it. He could even see her face by the way the mirrors reflected on each other and she could see him too. Their eyes meeting while everyone else clueless of the way the stared on another through the mirrors. Sometimes he’d let his gaze travel down to her hips and her legs before letting get back to her face. She did the same, he noticed it, a slight smirk on his lips when he realized she was checking him out.

“Good length. You see legs better.” said Elise.

“j’aime…” she thought about it “la?” she questioned herself getting a few side giggles from the boys. All except Hakimi, who sometimes was as bad as her. Elise smiled standing up and stood behind her pulling the dress down to show her chest more. The minute she did that her eyes searched for Kylian’s. Yeah, he was still looking and she felt a sense of happiness when she realized.

“Tu es tres belle.”

“Merci, Elise.” She said, while still looking at Kylian until he abruptly diverted his gaze back to himself.

“Just wait till they see me arriving at the stadium looking like this. One-zero, already!” he bragged. Hakimi laughing from where he was standing next to him. Taylor scoffed, looking away.

“such confidence.” She mumbled. Kylian glanced at her.

He smiled.

When they boys were done, they were taken to the venue downstairs to take some videos and pictures for the official psg account. Taylor’s dress took longer. Elise wanted it to be perfect, show her silhouette and all her curves. Communicating was hard when she could barely speak French and Elise could barely understand English. But they pointed at what they needed, making sense of it in the end. When they agreed on everything, Elise told her to change so she could fix the dress. Taylor got back behind her curtain and tried to get off her dress but the knot was so tight around her neck she couldn’t untie it and she was too scared of ruining it. Plus, the dress was filled with needles.

“Elise!” she called “Je… aide?” her hand reached behind her neck, trying to pull on the threads until she heard the curtain opening, a presence behind her. “Merci” she said.

She felt his thumb on the back of her neck before she heard his voice “De rien.”

She jumped and turned out, Kylian standing in front of her. She smacked his shoulder. “Are you out of your mind? Get out!” she warned.

“Je veux t’aider” he said innocently, grinning.

She went to push him out, when she heard steps, Elise, coming back. She walked back against the wall and pulled him closer to her, their bodies slamming together.

“Ms. Taylor, ca va bien?”

“Oui” she said quickly “Oui!”. Kylian’s eyes seemed to find comfort in her lips while she was trying to save his mess. He leaned a little closer, his hands close to her body, looking at her with hunger. “Could you get me a glass of water?”

“Que?”

Kylian pulled back so she could see his face. He’d mouth every word slowly and she’d repeat them

“Pourrais”

‘Pou-ais”

He held back his laugh “je”

“Je.”

“Avoir”

“Aboir-“ he held his hand in front of his mouth, cracking up. She stepped on his foot and he let out an inaudible gasp, pulling his foot away.

“Damn you!” he mouthed.

“Mademoiselle?” tried Elise.

“Yes sorry, I’m trying—” she stopped when she felt his lips on her ear, as close to her as ever. This time whispering the words in her ear. She repeated them slowly, same way he was telling them or at least that’s what she thought. She couldn’t really focus on her accent when she could smell his cologne like that, when his lips brushed her ear, reminding her of her sins. Each word sounded dirty, it almost felt wrong repeating them.

“Pourrais-je avoir un verre d'eau?” she asked in the end with her messy accent but thankfully clear enough for Elise to understand.

“Oui.” Said Elise and left the room again.

Taylor stayed as she was until Kylian decided to move his face away from hers, allowing her to breathe normally.

“That was a C plus” he said, with a cocky grin.

“Leave” she warned.

“We need to talk.”

“Lost your keys?”

“I’m serious!”

“Not here.”

“After the fitting. come with me.”

“No.” she said as if the answer was obvious.

“Taylor—”

“Get out.” She persisted.

He let out a bitter breath, his hand reaching behind her neck, his fingers playing with the thread that was keeping the dress on her. He played with it a little, intentionally. The skin to skin contact made her weak, made her embarrassed for her thoughts. Then he untied it, the dress loosening around her but not enough to fall off. Still she moved her hand over her chest, holding the dress up. He smiled, examining her whole one last time before his index finger stroked her blushed cheekbone for a second.

Taylor let herself crumble against the cold wall, trying to replace the warmth he had ignited.

“I just wanna go home.” Said Neymar, sitting next to Ramos on the couch. He couldn’t take it with the flash and the cameras anymore. He leaned back, covering his face. Ramos laughed and patted his thigh. “I haven’t even packed for tomorrow.”

“I don’t think anyone has.”

“Mr. Ramos! Your suit is ready!”

Ramos got up. For a moment Neymar was alone, half asleep on the coach when he felt the space next to him deepening. He looked to his right, meeting Taylor. She lifted her leg up, crossing them on the coach, getting comfortable. A sweet silence settling between them. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her.

“Suit looked good on you.” She tried. All she got as a respond was a slight ‘hm’. She sunk deeper on the couch. “This is all very special, isn’t it?” he opened his right eye taking a quick peak at her. She looked at him, smiling. She poked his shoulder “you’re gonna talk to me or what?”

“Where’s your whistle?”

“Left it at the stadium with my devil horns.”

“Ah!” he nodded, letting out a very weak and short laugh before silence came back.

She looked at her fingers, scratching her nails. “you ever gonna forgive me?”

He made a ‘tsk’ sound with his death, shaking his head slowly.

“I know I hurt you. Maybe I was little too harsh in my reviews—”

“Maybe?”

“Fine, very harsh. Definitely. But—” she huffed “it’s the same with Kylian. I see your potential and it stinks that you let personal issues get in the way of it. There is zero chemistry on the field anymore. People can see that, they are not dumb. You’re trying to better when it’s all about working together. He gets mad because he is in denial. You get sad because you know it’s true.”

He avoided her eyes “haven’t seen you writing anything new.”

She hesitated “I gave it up.”

“What?” he looked at her.

“I can’t do both things. I thought I could but… first of all there is no time and…” she smiled “I don’t like dragging my friends online.” His eyes softened, she shrugged her shoulder “I just drag them in their face.” He laughed, nodding. “Whistling in their ear. I have to be honest I’m having a lot of fun torturing you!”

“We can tell!” she smacked him.

The doors behind them opened and laughter was heard. She could recognize both laughs. When she looked behind her, she saw Kylian, next to a much taller familiar man.

“TJ!” Called Bellingham and Taylor jumped up from the couch while Jude came closer to hug her. She hugged him back, feeling a sense of home in his arms.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, stumbling her words. He pulled back to look at her.

“Kylian called, he said you’re going out for drinks.”

“Did he?” She asked in a high pitched voice, giving him the fakest smile she could master.

“Thought you’d like to see a friend from the past.” Said Kylian, his arm hanging around Jude’s shoulder. “he’s leaving tomorrow. It’s be a shame not to.”

She smiled. Unable to do anything else.

ROOFTOP GARDEN BAR – NIGHT

“She got in a fight every other day with the lads.” Joked Jude.

They all sat in a rounded table. Kylian and Taylor across from each other, separated by everyone else. She was in between Neymar and Hakimi, secretly hoping Ramos would have been here as well. Taylor was pretending to laugh through all the embarrassing stories that Jude was telling about her, the same look of annoyance in her face through the whole night.

“It’s because I knew I was better than all of you.” She supported, sipping on her Margarita.

“You were in trouble with the coaches too.”

“Really?” gasped Neymar.

“Don’t get any ideas on your mind Junior. I was just…” she thought of the right word “a little feisty.”

“A little? You were loud.”

“She’s still loud.” Mumbled Kylian. Their eyes met under their dim lights. His comment dirty for anyone that could understand. She looked away.

“She had a little crush on me too, didn’t you?” he laughed. Taylor opened her mouth, laughing.

“That’s fake news. It was you that had a crush on me. Remember?”

“Don’t listen to her, she was at my house every other day.”

“We were kids” she defended, finally starting to enjoy the moment “It was only because your mother made the best carbonara I’ve ever tasted. I was obviously using you!” Jude pretended to be hurt, holding a hand over his chest. “Oh don’t do that—” she chuckled “Remember my dad’s cooking? Your mother was my last hope—plus, you were all over Sandra when I wasn’t there.”

He raised his finger “oh— hold up now, that’s not fair. I might—” motioned his hands “have filled the empty space you were always leaving me with, with Sandra—” Everyone laughed, Taylor hitting her hand on the table. It was a loud belly laugh. Kylian realized he had never made her laugh like that “but you’re the one that left us, moved away to Chelsea—” She chuckled, looked at her cocktail, cocking her head. Her expression saddening. She bit the corner of her mouth, not really wanting to say anything. “Then she met Mason, forgot all about us brummie boys.”

Neymar raised his eyebrows in shock. She shrunk in her place, shaking her head “Mason Mount?” asked Neymar. Everyone except Kylian was shocked. He already knew. “I could have sworn you said something about being immune to footballers ones—so far you’ve dated two—”

“OK!” She raised her hand “Me and Mr. Dracula over there—” Jude laughed at the nickname, obviously an inside joke “We never dated.”

“That breaks my heart, doll.”

“I was Nine!” she protested, still laughing “and you’d buy candy rings for me. Of course I lied about being in love with you.” She explained “and Mason… it was very brief. You know… got immunity right after him.”

It was Kylian’s turn to laugh, maybe a little louder than he should have, everyone looking at him. Taylor must have tried to kick him but she got Jude’s leg instead.

“What the ‘ell?” He yelled.

Taylor tried to wave it off, like she actually meant to kick him but her eyes found Kylian’s. He was sipping on his wine, an infuriating look on his face while he was picking out every single detail he could about her.

A few more stories about how insolent she used to be, a few more jokes of their shared adventures and how dangerous she could get. A few more laughs, allowing Taylor to forget about Kylian on the other side of the table. Kylian noticed how normal she looked, a whole other side of her, childish even. She was a different person, sweeter, less defensive. He wished he could make her feel like that. As always, he realized he was staring when he felt Hakimi’s elbow, hitting his shoulder. His eyes darting away.

They got downstairs on the street, all of them walking to their cars. The boys had called their personal drivers, taylor would get an UBER. She was anxious when she saw Jude in the beginning, anxious of her past but in the end she felt comfort as they walked side to side. It was like she was getting back a part of her she had lost.

“how’s your dad? Haven’t seen him since the wedding” he asked

“He’s happy, finally.” She reassured him, staring at the pavement “He and Beth are as in love as ever and Little Lily is growing” They stopped their pace. The rest of the boys standing a little farther away from them. He looked at her, a very obvious question in his eyes. Taylor could hear it, she looked away, her hands finding solace in her pockets “He’s... taking it one day at a time. Like always. So is Beth…”

“But is he better?”

She shrugged her shoulders “I don’t know. He’s older, so it’s harder but he never talks to me about it. He still blames himself for what happened. Which is dumb but… you know.”

“Next time, I’m in London I’ll go see him.”

“Oh he’d love that. He’d love to see your mother too.” She said, rubbing his arm. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Thank Kylian. He’s the one that invited me.”

She snorted “yeah, he’s intentions weren’t as good. It just backfired on him.”

She he pursed his lips and opened his arms as an invitation to a hug. She accepted it, sinking in his arms and the memories. Jude lowered his head to her ear, smiling while looking at Kylian who was staring at them both “I think he cares a little more than you think by the way he looks at you.” He kissed her cheek “be careful.” He warned and slipped away from her, to get in his car.

Taylor looked behind her, at Kylian, as her uber stopped in front of her. She gave him and the rest of the boys, a quick nod but her eyes lingered on him as she opened the door to her car. And his eyes lingered on her until her car left and he stood in the middle of a sidewalk, in rainy and moody Paris.

PRIVATE PSG AIRPLANE – EARLY MORNING

She wasn’t used to cameras following her around, the social media team seemed to have a great interest in her all of a sudden. All she’d do was wave and smile. When she entered the plane, she met Kylian, who was apparently fooling around with the flight attendants.

“Welcome on board” he said, smiling, not just to her but to everyone.

The plane was huge, separated in cubicles, small spaces for everyone to be comfortable during the 6-hour flight. She chose one seat on the back, next to a window. Her body sinking the minute she sat, ready to fall asleep again. The boys seemed to be in a cheery mood, despite the hour. She was mentally dying, wishing she could be back on her bed but neither the lights or the voices bothered her. She’d fall asleep again in no time.

“Ola!”

She looked sheepishly on her right. Neymar, sitting next to her. She studied him, her expression remaining unimpressed.

“For your own good, I hope you’re not loud during flights.”

Neymar laughed “Maybe I will just to get back at you.”

“Maybe I’ll just throw you off the plane.”

“Little grumpy, coach?”

“Two days now, I’ve waken up before daylight without my will.”

Neymar took his bag of nuts, started throwing them in his mouth “why’d you wake up yesterday?”

She remembered the reason, turned her head towards the window. “long story.”

“sure.” He mumbled.

She fell asleep a while later. He saw her, a few seats away from her. He kept glancing at her, Neymar sometimes was zoning out as well. He needed some sort of master plan to get to her without making it obvious. Hakimi was sleeping next to him, his head on his shoulder. Kylian moved his shoulder to wake him up, repeatedly. Hakimi hummed, sneered but didn’t open his eyes.

“Haki!” he said a little louder.

“It’s your turn.” He mumbled.

Kylian narrowed his eyes “what?”

“I changed the diapers last night”

“Oh my god! Wake up!” Kylian pushed him off his shoulder. Hakimi woke up violently, looking around a little confused. He rubbed his eye, tiredly.

“What’s wrong with you?” he yawned.

“I need you to do something for me.”

Hakimi’s expression fell “I was sleeping!”

“that’s not the point— don’t look at me like that! Come on, I need you to find a reason to speak to Neymar.”

“like plotting your murder?”

“Sure whatever works for you.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer. Hakimi raised his body to find Neymar. He rolled his eyes when he found him next to Taylor. She was sleeping on his shoulder while he was on his phone. He looked back at Kylian “You have to be kidding me.” He lowered his head “I really don’t want to get involved in this.”

“First and last time, I promise.”

“What am I even gonna say to him?”

“You’ll find something- baby diapers, father stuff, you’ll figure it out, I’m sure!” He said and got up. Hakimi tried to snatch his arm but Kylian left before he could. He walked down the thin hallways, standing over Neymar. He told him, Hakimi wanted to speak to him about something. Neymar hesitated at first but moved Taylor carefully away from him, her head falling on the side of the window and getting comfortable again.

Kylian took his seat as soon as he left, looking over her. He wondered how he was supposed to wake her without losing an eye. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. While he moved his leg against hers, pushing her thigh, slowly but repeatedly so he’d wake her. Suddenly she moved her entire body closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, same way she was sleeping with Neymar. It did something to him, her hair on his skin, the smell of lavender. He closed his eyes while she nuzzled closer to his neck. All of a sudden he didn’t want to wake her, he wanted her to stay there until they landed. He slid himself closer, her hair tickling him. Her nose wrinkled, like she was smelling him, waking up. Her eyes opened and she moved away just as quick. He moved his hand to her mouth, so she wouldn’t start yelling and wake everyone up. Her eyes were as wide as he had ever seen them, glaring at him. He put his finger in his mouth telling her to ‘shush’. She slapped his hand away from her mouth, sliding her body as far away from his as possible.

“I told you we need to talk.”

She snapped her head at him “here? Of all places?” she hissed.

“Everyone’s sleeping.”

“So, was I! what happened to Neymar? Did you lock him in the toilet?”

“He’s in deep baby conversation with Haki—”

“You’re using kids to—” Keylor Navas passed by them, both of them looking away, stopping their conversation until he was gone. “—to your advantage now?”

Kylian leaned closer, so he’d be able to whisper in a tone only she could hear. “did you see the announcement?” She reached for one of the magazines, flipping the pages like she was searching for something specific. He took it from her hands, she smacked him “can you focus for a moment?”

“What do you want me to say? yes of course I saw it, it was about me, wasn’t it?”

He waited for her to say something more “That’s it?”

“Kylian is this gonna be a problem?” she asked “I mean besides the fact that you hate me for my website. Is that also gonna be a problem? because I need to know right now.” He didn’t answer “I thought you wanted to talk about this—”

“I do”

“Then talk!” she demanded, looking fearlessly in his eyes. How was it that sometimes he felt like he had all sort of power over her and then the next moment, none at all. “It was my mistake that I didn’t tell you but if you’re gonna pull one of your smart little tricks, tell everyone and ruin this for me—”

“I won’t” he cut her off. She seemed surprise, he sat straight and away from her, letting out anxious breaths. “You really thought I would?”

“I don’t know Kylian.” She mumbled “been realizing lately that I don’t really know you at all.”

He gazed at the ceiling, nodding his head. “So we agree, we pretend like it never happened?”

“Yeah. Sounds good to me.” She stared forward, nibbling on the inside of her mouth.

“good”

“Great.”

Silence.

She looked at the blackness from her window “does Hakimi know?” she asked. And he could almost hear the terror in her voice. He lowered his head.

“He knows something happened. He doesn’t know what.”

“Don’t tell him.” She requested.

He moved his eyes at her, he could only see half her face. “I won’t.” he promised and he realized it was the most sincere, he had ever been with her. Why did his chest felt heavy then?

DOHA

Doha was the first stop. The welcoming was beautiful. Everyone had a smile on their face, shaking everyone’s hands. Some would point at Taylor, whispering something. She’d look away, feeling weird just by the thought that she was being recognized be strangers. She was never that popular as a footballer and she wasn’t used to it either.

When they reached their reception everyone was given their own key and room number. The employees helped them settle in their rooms, Taylor had used most of the boys as a shield while walking around the hotel, hiding in between them so the cameras wouldn’t find her. The members of the team were forced to go on a number of interviews while she could stay in her room, sleep, drink, do whatever she wanted to until the charity event in the hotel, later in the night. She chose sleep.

PLAY MUSIC

Kylian liked getting dressed up, it made him feel good and that outfit certainly looked good on him. He admired himself in the mirror, examining how it fell on him.

He fixed his handkerchiefs and his collar first.

Taylor fixed her make up first, blue eye shadow and maroon lipstick, same color as her favorite wine, puckering her lips in the mirror. She picked half her hair up, while the rest laid curly on her body.

He put on his black suit, dusting off any dirt that might have gathered during the trip.

She slipped in her blue dress, feeling like it was uniform made for her and her only, moving her head side to side, so her hair would fall better on her shoulders.

They stood on the edge of their beds, putting on their shoes. He tied his and she slipped her feet on her black open toe heels, strapping them. Her hands stroking her legs, she smiled, feeling way too sure of herself for the night.

She stood up when she heard a light knock on her door. She snatched her mini bag from the bed and opened the door, smiling.

“Ready?” asked Marquinhos.

She smiled and slid her hand around his elbow.

Kylian was already on the venue across the hotel, a glass of red wine in his hand, taking pictures with his teammates and interacting with fans or people that looked important. His eyes scanning the room, always, like he was expecting a bomb to go off any time. It was hard for him to hold a conversation, mostly because he’d always twist his head, any time he thought he saw a woman in a blue dress. The dim purple lights made it harder for him to spot what he was looking for until he saw her, close to Marquinhos, laughing about something.

He could hear whoever was next to him still talking but it was like a void, a noise in his head that wouldn’t go off. His eyes found a home in her silhouette, like he was seeing her in that dress for the first time. He didn’t know where to focus, her legs? Her heels? Her exposed neck or chest? He had never seen her with make up before, red lips like those, a curse and a gift. Hakimi was nowhere near to remind him he was staring so he was still staring until her eyes locked with his. He noticed she held on Marquinhos hand tighter after she saw him, getting closer like she was seeking protection. Her attention was taken away by a reporter, asking her questions. He watched as her lips moved, curling in a smile or shutting in a straight line while she listened to the questions. Marquinhos helping her through the chaos that he was used to a long time now.

“Kylian!” His companion said, pulling on his arm. He finally looked away from her and back at the man next to him.

“Excuse moi.” He said and motioned for him to continue with whatever he was saying. He very cheekily made a few steps backwards so he’d be able to look at her while also pretending he was part of the conversation, taking slow sips from time to time. Following his prey as it moved around the venue.

So, we both agree, it never happened?

But it did happen, and he wanted it to happen again.

Taylor was feeling exhausted just an hour later, any opportunity she’d find she’d sit on an empty seat, massaging her ankles that were begging to be let free of the heels. She had met more people in an hour then she had met in the entire year and she didn’t even remember her names. Her boys would compliment her, always, without ever making it inappropriate, something that made her feel better but there was one that hadn’t even come near her.

While sitting in one of the empty tables she searched for him, finding him in between the crowd. She couldn’t deny he looked good in a suit; it made him look older and wiser. His presence was louder than most people and yet he didn’t have to make any noise for people to notice him. She studied how even the fabric couldn’t hide his perfectly structured body, the body she had stroked like few woman had, the body that was hers a few nights ago. She caressed her own palm with her thumb, trying to remind herself what touching him felt like.

So, we both agree, it never happened.

Sounds good to me.

But it did and she’d never be able to forget.

A figure came and stood in front of her, hiding the view. She looked up, Ramos, smiling down at her.

“Are you allowed to dance with us?” he asked. She laughed, shaking her head.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Rumors can be terrible.”

He studied her “it’s hard being around us, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes harder than others.” She admitted, her eyes looking for him again. He wasn’t there anymore.

“Fuck the rumors.”

She laughed louder “you hanged out with Trish way too much.”

“She was good company. Knew what she wanted.”

“Yeah…” she hummed “I was always jealous of her for that.”

“Ah…” Ramos knelt in front of her so he’d be on the same level. She let her head fall on the side, narrowing her eyes. “I believe we all know what we want. Pretending we don’t is easier.” He got up and left to go back to the dance floor. She thought about his words. What if she wanted more than one thing and it was one or the other? Which one was the one she should pretend like she didn’t want it at all?

A chair moved next to her; she turned her head. Him, she thought. He kept staring at her while he sat down, as close to her as he could. He gave her a glass of wine while holding his in the other hand. She took it, their hands touching ever so slightly. They took a sip, their eyes not moving. If intoxication was a picture, it would have been this one; them, their eyes locked, sipping on the red liquid, her letting her leg fall against his and moving away when it touched his thigh. Reading their thoughts. No need for conversation. Confessing crimes to devil himself would have less tension than whatever they were doing.

“Stop staring.” She whispered

“You first.”

She swallowed the eternity of her glass in one go and left it on the table. She got up and lost herself in between the crowds until she was outside. Cold air sending a chill all over her body, she walked as far deep in the wide garden of the hotel as she could until she reached the back pool, empty and lonely. It wasn’t as cold as Paris but she was exactly well dressed.

Her body trembling until his jacket and smell covered her shoulders.

PLAY MUSIC

She closed her eyes, taking it in. His hands rubbing on her arms. She leaned her head back to him, weak to keep it or her thoughts straight as she craved to be closer to him.

He slipped his hands under his jacket so he could hold on her body as he moved closer, his breath on her neck. “you’ll freeze.” He whispered. She turned around so she’d be able to face him, her hands placed on his chest, covered by his white shirt. They could still hear the music from the distance, their bodies moving in the rhythm of it while her tachycardia seemed to pick up the closer his face would get. She gripped on his shirt, wrinkling it. Their mouths half open, moving in opposite directions while they brought each other to insanity.

“It never happened.” She reminded him with whatever strength she was left with.

He looked at her lips, his hand reaching behind her neck, his thump stroking her face. “Maybe it should.”

She moved her head to the side, so she’d stay away from his lips just to be safe. She wasn’t sure if she was trembling because of the cold or him. She looked over his shoulder at the pool. She shook her head and walked away from him closer to the pool. He watched her, half wondering what she was doing. He followed her, standing next to her. She took off her heels, returning back to her normal height and testing the temperature of the water with her toe.

“we are sinking.” She whispered “there’s only one way to go when you’re sinking.”

He turned his head away from her. He started unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it on the ground and then his pants. She watched, confused. He took off his shoes, staying in his underwear. “If we are sinking, we might as well swim.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. A minute later and he was diving in the pool, his body lost in the water. She stepped a little closer, before sitting on the edge of the pool. Leaving her phone by her side. Her feet sinking in the water as well. He returned to the surface, smiling. She grinned when she saw him until he started throwing water at her, splashing it on her. She laughed holding her hands over her dress. “This is a DIOR!” she yelled. Begging him to stop. He swam closer, enclosing her in between his arms.

“I’ll buy you an other.”

She snorted “cheeky.”

He moved even closer, her feet against his bare chest, the two of them staring at each other. Sinking, indeed. Dangerous, for sure. His hand moved away from the marble and settled on her leg. She didn’t react, a symbolic gesture for him to continue. He caressed her skin in the water, his hand finding it’s way in between her thighs, always looking her in the eyes. Opening her legs slightly. Enough to be able to leave kisses on her inner thigh, that’s when he got the first reaction, a gasp. He continued, higher, until she shut her thighs together. A momentary lapse in judgement and she jumped in the water in between him and the marble, her lips finding his in seconds. Finally allowing him to taste that lipstick, to suck every little part of her and drink it like it was whiskey. The dress getting stuck in her body as it got wet. His hands still travelling in between her thighs while his mouth got complete access to hers.

Because it did happen and it was going to happen again. And when you’ve already started sinking, there is only one way to go.

“Who’s down there?” yelled the security guard.

Screaming crying perfect storm.... Oh well..... Sinking we go. Down to the bottom we go. Unless of course they were caught. Are they gonna sleep together? Are they not? Qatar trip is gonna be fun from now on. I mean it's getting hot in here. People missing. Where is Ann? Jude's a cutie isn't he🥺 BUT HEY-- STAY CHILL PEOPLE. WE DON'T HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO. 😭😭 Ones again thanks to everyone that is reading, writing this for you is pleasuee and all i need in return is your feedback so i can't wait to see your comments. You're THE BEST!!! See ya next Sunday (maybe) xx

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#kylian mbappe #mbappe imagines #mbappé #mbappe #mbappe x reader #football writing #football imagine #football requests #neymar one shot #neymar x reader #jude bellingham x oc #jude bellingham x reader

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hypnotiiize · 1 year

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨... 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐞

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: this is based on a literal Vybz Kartel song but it’s named after a Kelis song. and if you’re not caribbean or from nyc and know nothing abt Vybz … just know i put u on 🙏🏽 also this is gonna be the first instance of what i like to call After!Jude u gon get me soon enough 🤞🏽 + i wrote jude like a man FR so buckle in ❤️

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: cheating, items thrown, self h*rm ideation, smoking cigs around babies — it was a diff time ya just vibe w me but also DONT smoke around babies

Long ago, she’d grown accustomed to the wooden tobacco scent of cigarettes and the way that they seeped into the necks of her most durable shirts. In her earliest memories, she would be sat between her grandmother’s legs and the older woman would be braiding her hair for school. Her grandmother, a rather young woman considering her title, balanced a lanky cigarette between her lips as she added barrettes to the ends of her hair before moving on to the next braid. Now, the eye-stinging, lung-burning, herby smell of cigarette smoke reminded her of easier times– of the hairs at the nape of her neck being roughly brushed up into a plait, of her face being slathered in Vaseline, of her grandmother’s roughened voice chastising her grandchildren for running in her house.

She smoked her very first cigarette at the age of sixteen. As she placed the cigarette between her lips, she thought of the woman she had lost four years prior whose heavy hands would spoon-feed her gently. Her grandmother. She thought of the woman’s comforting words and sloppy kisses and head pats and Sunday breakfasts for her and all of her cousins. As she’d puffed the cigarette for the very first time, she easily recalled braids and the smell of the hair grease and that one Godforsaken red brush with the roughest bristles she’d ever felt in her life. As she’d exhaled, she’d been slapped with the clearest image of her grandmother she’d seen since the woman was alive. In truth, the woman had begun to slip her mind as the clock ticked by, though as she smoked her very first cigarette she swore she’d felt the warmth of the woman’s aged hands on her back, rubbing soothingly.

At eighteen, she kicked the habit. It was bad for aging and her fear of lung problems stemmed from the matriarch she’d loved so much. She cried for days at the absence of her grandmother’s presence, finding her lost in the haze of the sweet-smelling smoke. Still, she threw out her pack of Newports and grew used to the dull state of living without her first best friend.

The next time she would see her grandmother was when she was twenty, as the cigarette between her lips lit fiery red at its tip and the stingingly familiar scent– something akin to perfume to her– wafted around her head. Where others smelled cigarette smoke, instead she smelled comfort. She smelled hair grease and pancakes and her grandmother’s home, and when she pressed her eyes shut, she could even imagine herself waking up in the mornings in her grandmother’s arms– she could see the dust particles swaying around her, she could even feel the grainy fabric of her grandmother’s orange curtains between her two fingers.

When her eyes opened after two long minutes of her childhood, her boyfriend of three years stood in the doorway with furrowed brows and a bothered look in his deep brown eyes. She had been crying long before then.

“You’re smoking again?” was the first thing Jude said. He shook his head, his lips downturned as if he’d tasted something disgusting. He had been the one that pushed for her to leave cigarettes alone. As an athlete, he had to be well averse to the effects of drugs on the human body– plus, he’d hated feeling as if he was kissing a truck driver.

She did not answer him. The truth was evident. She just closed two fingers around the Newport and flicked her thumb against the butt of it, watching wistfully as its ashes fell out of the window to the grass below. For a moment, she wished she could fall in the same way: no longer feeling the painful burn in her chest. Silent. Graceful. And then, stable.

“Hello?” Jude spoke once more, sounding offended by her brush-off. “You don’t hear me or something?”

She placed the cigarette between her lips and squinted her eyes at the passing cars as she inhaled.

“Hello,” Jude said again, lower this time as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and turned her to him. When she tugged her arm from him, his eyebrows rose to his hairline. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, nose scrunched at the cloud of smoke she expelled from her lips. “Did I do something wrong? Why aren’t you speaking?”

There was a split second– a split, split second– where she pondered laughing in his face, finding irony in the question she, too, had been asking herself since her eyes had cracked open.

Did I do something wrong?

When had she stopped being enough? When had Jude stopped fawning over the sway of her hips? When had he grown tired of the sweetness of her skin on his tongue? When had he decided that her love was expendable?

Why hadn’t he told her?

Having had the whole day to muse, their house still and void of the feelings that had once lived there with the two, she’d decided that he had stopped loving her wildly sometime a year ago. She’d sipped wine and recalled the time she had attempted to type his password into his phone and found herself locked out. She had only wanted to go to his pictures and upon her eyebrows knitting together in the middle of her forehead, Jude wrapped his arms around her and skillfully distracted her with kisses to her chest. The next time she’d gone to open his phone his password had been changed back, and she questioned, briefly, if it had even happened. She’d known it had.

That second time a year ago, when she’d grabbed his phone, she’d found a picture of herself set as his lock screen. It was something he’d snapped on one of their first dates, back when he would buy her bouquets of flowers and invite her with him everywhere he went, unwilling to part from her. She recalled wanting to be flattered at the gesture, wanting to see the change of photos as a declaration of his love. She knew it wasn’t. Eventually, when her uneasiness had become obvious to Jude, he’d even made a show of allowing her face to unlock his phone, “for emergency purposes,” he’d said, though she knew he meant to shut her up. She felt shame, now, at the fact that that had worked, then.

Even if her original estimation had been off, she'd thought that the constant pinging of his cell phone that began four weeks ago was the definite answer to her question. By then, Jude no longer smiled at her quirks the way he once did– instead, there was only the irked expression on his face as she tripped or stumbled over her words. When he kissed her, it was offhandedly, like one would an aunt they saw at every family get-together. He would be too busy to go to restaurants with her, though somehow free enough to party with his teammates and friends every night.

Such had been the case the night before when Jude pressed a chaste kiss to the right of her lips and told her he would be going out with his friends. He had stopped asking her if she wanted to accompany him long before then; she had even been glad for it, she did not think she could sit through another one of his eye rolls when she told him that she couldn’t, as she had important schoolwork to finish. In more recent times, when she had been on top of her coursework, she had wanted to party with him but could not bring herself to beg for the attention of the man she lived with.

Thus, each time, she would be left to observe remnants of his night on the stories of his friends. There were four in total, not including Jude. Jamal, who Jude had played football with since they were children. Whitney, who Jude had gone to school with. Daniel, who Whitney had grown up with. And Amelia, who had started off as a friend that Jude allowed her to invite in the beginning so that she would not feel uncomfortable. Now, they were their own thing– Daniel, Whitney, Jamal, Jude, and Amelia were all one big, partying friend group who truly were not compatible at all.

And so, despite the bitter prickle somewhere in her chest from being left at home, she could not help but be thankful that she would not have to fake laugh with people she was not truly comfortable with. Instead, she watched their stories: Daniel would post himself and Jude with drinks in their hands. Whitney would post pictures of all of them standing shoulder to shoulder, grinning at the camera. Jamal would not post at all. Amelia, the girl she’d grown up with, would post a video of herself and Whitney singing to the blaring music.

Last night, just before he left, Jude’s cell phone vibrated and lit up on the nightstand. She had been standing over a foot away reaching for the pajama shirt she’d laid out on the quilt of their bed. She instinctively glanced at his phone when she straightened, mouth falling open as it promptly unlocked itself upon registering her face. She’d read the message there before she could stop herself, her heart dropping to her stomach and heating up the acid there tenfold.

She’d waited for the slam of the front door before FaceTiming the only one in Jude’s friend group that she’d found herself fond of after all those years.

Jamal picked up on the first ring.

“You going out tonight?” she’d asked quickly, hoping for him to say yes despite the fact that he was in his pajamas.

Jamal had snorted. “No. Why?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I just wanted to know if you could keep an eye on something for me,” she’d struggled to say, still shaken by the conclusion she’d leaped to upon seeing the text on Jude’s lock screen.

“Keep an eye on something for you?” Jamal had repeated after her confusedly. “Are you okay?” When she didn’t answer after a long minute of calculating her next step, he’d said warningly, “Hey, I’m watching American Horror Story and I’m kind of spooked right now, so please don’t be so cryptic.”

Upon her recollection of the events, Jamal had assured her that she was caught up in her own anxieties. Jude, for everything he was, was not as low down as she suspected him to be– and if he was, Jamal would set him straight immediately. Still, as the lines in her forehead deepened, Jamal promised he would remain attentive to every interaction he would witness thereafter. When he hung up after five long minutes of prying about her mental state, she was left with the deafening silence of their bedroom and the frigid vacancy of the left side of their bed.

Now, she watched Jude’s broad shoulders rise and fall with his every breath and wondered if he had ever felt as if someone were pressing talons into his lungs, piercing the organ and suffocating him from the inside out– this, of course, being exactly what she had been feeling since she’d woken up gripping the last remnant of him, his pillow, to her body.

“Jude,” she began slowly, her voice raspy from all the screaming she’d done hours ago, having had no clue when he would find his way home. His eyebrows raised, a sign of his attention. She tilted her head and attempted to keep her voice leveled, eyes filled with sorrow as she asked the question she had long since known the answer to.

“You fucked her?”

Jude looked as if he’d had whiplash. His eyes were wide, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Huh?”

“You fucked her, Jude?” she asked again, voice filled to the brim with desperation.

“No,” he said quickly, and his answer twisted the knife his absence had lodged into her abdomen long ago.

“How do you know who I’m talking about, then?” she whispered these words, and Jude shook his head. She shook hers, too. “If you don’t know who I’m talking about, why are you saying ‘no,’ already?” Her voice was gentle.

Jude swallowed once more. “No, I’m just saying, like– no, I didn’t sleep with anyone. I wouldn’t sleep with anyone ever, baby, you know that. I meant, like, no-no not no-no,” he rushed, his words as disorganized as the room they stood in.

“They saw you, Jude,” she breathed.

“Who?” he asked.

“Kiara and Destiny, Jude,” she told him of her best friends, who had gone out of their way to go to the same club as him the night before.

At this, Jude’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, having never found himself fully in her best friends’ good graces. He went to grab her hand. His fingers merely managed to swipe against hers before she snatched them away. “Baby,” he said at that, frowning deeply, “They’re lying. You know they don’t like me.”

So, Jude hadn’t seen it: the headlines and pictures and tweets. She could tell from the peaceful look in his eyes despite the prominent dark circles there from the sleep he had apparently gone without. As she stared at the man she’d grown up with, the man she’d sworn would see her through both sickness and health, she could only feel the incessant need to tighten her hands around her neck and pierce the skin there, longing for the fruitfulness of physical pain rather than the turmoil of her thoughts. She didn’t. Instead, she spoke past the burn in her throat.

“They’re not lying,” was all she could say, incapable of bringing up the articles that had hurt her to scour through.

“Yeah? They’re not lying? Then tell them to come here and say that in front of me, since you swear they’re not lying,” he called her bluff. It was only then, as she watched him adamantly refuse the facts she’d presented to him, that she realized how many other times he must have lied to her mid-argument. Only this time, she’d had enough proof to make her feel comfortable in simply blinking at him as he denied everything, not having to concern herself with whether or not she believed him.

In his haste to prove himself, he went on, saying, “Go ahead. Call ‘em, tell them to come,” knowing she wouldn’t. And in the past this may have worked– in the past, she may have felt silly for even suggesting such a thing.

In the present, she had one last suitcase to pack.

“You fucked her, Jude,” she exhaled simply, tiredly. She took one last, long drag from her cigarette before tapping it out on the windowsill and maneuvering around the man before her. Her suitcase lay sprawled open on the bed that would soon become solely his, the sheets too tainted for her to even think of bringing with her despite her love for them.

“What are you doing?” Jude asked as she opened the closet and removed her sweaters from the white hangers there. “What are you doing?” he asked once more as she began to fold them and place them in her suitcase. When she laid a sweatshirt down, Jude’s large hand grabbed it and flung it onto her pillow. “Baby, I didn’t fuck her,” he insisted fervently.

“How do you know who I’m talking about, Jude? If you didn’t fuck anyone,” she lilted, her eyes low as she folded another sweatshirt. When she placed that one in the suitcase, Jude threw that one out, too.

“I mean, I didn’t fuck anyone, baby!” he revised.

She folded her third sweatshirt. “You fucked her.”

He threw out the third sweatshirt. “Who? Who did I fuck, then?! Since you swear you know so much!” he shouted, a crease between his eyebrows as he pressed them together.

“Amelia.”

There was a beat in which no one spoke, and she wished, for a moment, that he had denied that name as aggressively as he’d been doing everything else just a minute before. Instead, when she glanced at him, she only found him with his lips sucked into his mouth as his eyes shut. His right hand had even constricted into a fist around her favorite hoodie. When he caught himself, he flung it at his own pillow.

“I didn’t fuck her,” he swore, quieter this time.

“You fucked her, Jude.”

“Oh my fucking God,” he hissed and then rolled his neck. The next he spoke, he was bellowing with his hands pressed together, “I didn’t! Fuck her!”

“Jude! You fucked her!” she spat just as suddenly as he, though ten times louder for the sake of it, finding that her chest had grown hot from his audacity to raise his voice at her.

“I said I didn’t fuck her! Why the fuck won’t you just listen to m– stop putting shit in this stupid suitcase!” He lifted the suitcase easily and tossed it onto the floor, having found himself fed up with the umpteenth sweater she’d neatly folded despite the bubbling tensions.

“Destiny and Kiara saw you, Jude. They saw you,” she sighed, opting to continue to fold the rest of her belongings and lay them on the pristine white quilt the two had once slept on.

“Yeah, well, your friends talk too fucking much, anyway,” was his curt reply. He caught himself when her right eye twitched and her head began to slowly raise to squint at him. He hastily added, “And they’re lying, too.”

She did not dignify him with a response. There was only the quiet sigh that she pressed from her nostrils and the rustling of the clothes in her hands.

Jude’s eyes rolled as she placed another pleated sweater on their comforter. He grabbed that one quickly, too, throwing it onto the headboard before bounding the bed toward her. He stood four inches from her, yet she did not bat an eye– her gaze remained downcast, focused on the fabrics she could feel between her fingers. Jude reached for her hand. “Baby,” he drawled, “I never had sex with Amelia, baby. I would never do that to you. Baby? You hear me?” His words fell on deaf ears.

She shifted away from him and placed her sweatshirt on their bed.

This time, Jude’s hand caught hers. He began to toy with her fingers the way he used to. His voice was soft, tentative as if the revelation had hurt him in the same way it had hurt her. “Call Jamal,” he proposed earnestly. “He was there with us last night, he can tell you.”

She felt as if she were suffocating in the room they’d decorated together all those months ago, as now, the man she loved looked her directly in her eyes and fabricated a story. She wondered, momentarily, why her boyfriend was so confident in his ability to deceive her. How many times had he done it before? How many times had she been made the fool? How long had he slipped lies into an everyday conversation for her to consume, content with poisoning her from the inside out?

She blinked, pulling her hand from his. “Oh. Jamal was with you last night?” she asked deliberately.

Jude nodded. “Yes. We all went out, baby. You know that.”

“That’s so funny,” she hummed, eyeing the way her hands began to tremble. She could hear her voice quivering. She could feel her chest shaking. She faced Jude, then, struggling to square her shoulders before the man who towered over her. “That’s so funny,” she repeated, louder this time. She let her words wash over him for three seconds before continuing. “‘Cause Jamal was actually the one that called me and told me that Amelia called him and told him that you and her had fucked last night! So.”

Jude sucked his lips into his mouth at this.

She chuckled at the turn of events. “Not to mention, when I FaceTimed Jamal last night he was in his pajamas getting ready for bed.” At Jude’s measured silence, she shook her head, a smile splitting on her face. “Look at you, just standing there looking stupid. Thank God for iPhones. You would’ve had me looking real dumb,” she spit this before snatching more hangers from the closet. She stepped around Jude, hurling her clothes into her opened suitcase, hangers be damned.

Jude swiveled in his spot, and when he spoke, his voice was high-pitched. “Baby! I wouldn’t lie to you! I’m not lying to you!” he lied.

She scoffed, finding that her fingers were itching for a cigarette to sit between them, to soothe the nerves he’d shot up before he even stepped foot in what was once their home. After a while, she could only sigh.

“I’m leaving, Jude,” she stated, her conclusion as simple as her words. “You can have this whole house to yourself and Amelia, but I gotta go.”

“Baby,” he began, tone dipped in syrup as he flocked to her side. He placed his hand on her cheek and lifted her face. Her eyes met his, void of their usual warmth. “Hey, listen. I love you, okay? Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

“Get off of me.” She lifted her chin from his palm.

“Baby, she’s lying,” he declared, his fingers gripping at his hair. “I don’t know why she told Jamal that! She’s fucking lying, baby, you can’t believe her!”

She squinted at him severely, slowly asking, “Why would she lie about that, Jude?”

“I don’t know! Maybe she just likes to lie!” he suggested, an octave away from whining.

Her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms and for a split second, she contemplated arson. She harkened back to the conversations she would hear her cousins having as they spoke of their boyfriends, thinking of how abysmal their excuses were when they would get caught in lies. She remembered just how content she had felt, confident of both Jude and the amount of respect Jude had for her– if he would ever lie, he would care enough to make the lie excellent and not be so bad at thinking on his toes for the sake of their relationship. Color her shocked at his less-than-logical, stuttered responses. He had not even thought of her and their courtship enough to lie effectively, and therefore, she did not have any more words for him.

She continued to pack.

Jude placed his head in his hands and groaned loudly, scrubbing a palm down his face. “I hate that girl, bro,” he snarled, shaking his head into his wrists. He straightened and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, inhaling for four long seconds and exhaling for just as long. When he gathered himself, he found her at the head of their bed, tossing the sweatshirts he’d strewn there into her opened luggage. He gulped at the dull look in her pretty eyes.

“Baby,” he started gently, “She’s lying. I’m telling you, she’s lying. She’s lying.”

She stood on her toes and flicked her wrist as she tossed her sweater, thinking of yelling, “Kobe!” in the midst of her attempt to drown out Jude’s words.

“She’s lying. I can prove to you she’s lying. I can prove it,” Jude persisted. He patted his hands against his thighs before pulling out his car keys. He gripped them tight in his palm as he said, “Okay, baby. You stay here, I’m gonna go see her again to sort all this out–”

“Again?”

Jude choked on air. “Huh?”

“Again? You said, ‘again’?” she echoed, her eyebrows raised as she gawked at his slip-up.

His jaw slackened. “Huh?”

“You said you’re gonna go see her ‘again’?” she repeated his words, smiling despite the way her chest had caught fire as she slow-walked to the middle of the room. “When was the first time you saw her, Jude? Since ‘she’s lying.’ Why d’you gotta go see her ‘again’? Hm?”

He blinked dazedly, looking first to his left and then to his right. “Huh?”

“What, you don’t hear me?!” she laughed loudly. “You said you gotta see her ‘again.’ So you saw her already, right?!”

“Huh? What?” was all he could say.

“Yeah, huh,” she mocked, bending at her waist and grabbing the silver zipper on her luggage. She could see Jude standing awkwardly in its reflection, his hands raised slightly in the air as he stumbled to his next response. She rolled her eyes as she closed her bag. She hoisted her suitcase onto its wheels while she stood, rolling past him wordlessly to the front of the house. She opened the closet there, tugging out the suitcases she had placed there hours ago in an effort to gather all of her possessions in one place without Jude’s interference– though she had not known then that he would even be home that early. Had she known, she would have bid the house farewell with some loud music and a slice of cake rather than the piercing screams the four walls had to sit through earlier.

She longed to say goodbye to each nook and cranny that she had seen every day for the past year. She longed to brush her hands against the smooth marble island wistfully, longed to recall the dishes she and Jude had made there– though now, she knows, those memories of the two of them moving around each other easily as they cooked would be forever marred. She longed to rub her fingers along the sofa they’d picked out together, longed to rest her head on its armrest once more before departing. She longed to feel at home in their home.

Jude grabbed her wrist and twisted her to him, finding that the view of her bags by the front door had made his heart palpitate in a nauseating way. “So you’re just gonna leave based on what someone else said?” he spat. “You’re not even giving me a chance to, like, defend myself– you’re just leaving! You’re letting everyone lie to you! So, you don’t care about me? Is that it?” His gaze poured into hers as his voice softened. “You’re just gonna let everyone lie to you and you’re gonna believe them over me?”

She felt as if she was going to be sick. “No one’s lying to me, Jude,” she said, removing her arm from his.

He grabbed her again, his fingers gentle around her flesh in spite of the gravel in his tone.

She could have even pulled away once more if she wanted to. She didn’t.

“So tell me how you know, then,” he rasped, the scent of him overtaking her senses. “Tell me how you know no one’s lying. Tell me why you’re so quick to believe everyone but your boyfriend of three years. Tell me,” demanded Jude.

There was a tug at the back of her throat. She had to raise her gaze to the ceiling to stop the sting in her eyes. Not for the first time, she wished for a cigarette.

“She texted you last night, Jude,” she revealed.

His face fell despite the fact that he had already been frowning, his sharp gaze growing blunt. “You went through my phone?”

“No, I didn’t go through your fucking phone, Jude,” she snapped, yanking her arm from his at this. A small fraction of her found humor in how panicked he looked: his eyes wide, his chest heaving, his rich brown skin slightly paled in pallor. However, the majority of her wanted to bust the windows out of his car, and thus the humor would remain lost on her at that moment. She scoffed. “The stupid shit lit up last night when you were getting ready and I saw her fucking text you.”

He shook his head disbelievingly. “You went through my phone.”

“I didn’t go through your fucking phone!” she said and her labored breath caught in the next moment, a thought occurring to her. “Should I have gone through your phone?!” she asked, peering at him through narrowed eyes, daring him to slip up once more.

“That’s not important,” he dismissed with a casual wave of his hand. Her chest felt as if it were molten lava. “What’d the text say, then? ‘Cause I didn’t see a text, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, unbeknownst to the fact that she had observed quietly in the corner of their bedroom as his lips had tugged into a smirk at the sight of Amelia’s text.

She thought once more of pressing her nails into her throat, the weight of his lies threatening the strength of her resolve. Her shoulders shuddered as she recalled the words that had appeared below the picture of her on his lock screen. You gonna see me again tomorrow? Or today? When she recited this to Jude, he gulped.

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gotta believe me,” he begged. “I’m lost! Just like you are!”

“Sure you are,” she mumbled weakly, grabbing her collection of coats from the closet beside the front door. She laid them over her arm as Jude latched onto the handle of her suitcase and pulled it a yard away from her.

He placed himself in front of the suitcase, next, barring her from leaving both the house and his life. “I didn’t have sex with her!” he swore desperately.

“Jude!” She was shouting now. “Stop fucking lying to me! Stop lying! You look stupid, stop lying! You fucked her! Just shut up already!”

“But you’re not even letting me defend myself!” he boomed, and she felt as if his voice had shaken the walls. “No matter what I say, you won’t believe me!”

“Because you’re fucking lying!” she screeched, her hands balled into fists.

He groaned, his hands on his head once more as he did a three-sixty. “Oh my fucking God, you keep saying that shit!” He leaned forward, his palms facing the sky as he asked, “Who the fuck is saying I’m fucking lying?! ‘Cause they’re the ones that are lying!”

“Destiny and Kiara, Jude! Destiny and Kiara! My best friends saw you!” Then, just before he could say that her friends had an elaborate ploy to get him out of her life, she soldiered on, “And Jamal told me! Jamal told me, Jude! Amelia told Jamal, and he told me! Not to mention the people on Twitter that are tagging me in shit! So, you’re done, Jude! You’re caught! I’m leaving, move on!”

“You’re not going anywhere because I’m not lying!” he hollered his claim.

“Oh yeah?” she challenged.

He nodded cockily. “Yeah.”

“You’re not lying?”

Again, he nodded. “I’m not lying.”

“Mm,” she hummed, nodding once before she pressed the plushy pad of her index finger to the middle of her lips.

She wondered, briefly, how she would go about her next move. Would she scream, in hopes that her voice would penetrate his skin and cause him the pain she felt? Would she cry, in hopes that her sobs would awaken something within him and he would come to, shaken at the sound of her in pain? Would she throw the nearest object at his temple?

In the end, she merely tilted her head at him at a forty-five-degree angle and asked knowingly, “Then what’s that hickey on your neck, Jude?”

In the distance, a pin dropped.

She had, admittedly, caught the maroon-colored bruise just above his collarbone the moment the cigarette smoke had dissipated from the air between them– just after she’d watched the ashes connect themselves to the dew on the vibrant grass. She had been too caught up in the fact that it had been exactly where Jude’s spot was to speak on it, too caught up in the fact that whoever he had been with– and she knew who he had been with, she had known her before she had become a woman– had known him well enough to know his body. She had imagined Amelia sucking at the skin above his collarbone familiarly in the same way that she had once done, back when the sight of Jude did not make her want to rip each strand of hair from her head one by one.

Jude leaned his ear forward, feigning as if he had not heard. “Huh?”

“Yeah, huh. I said, what’s that hickey on your neck?” she reiterated, surprisingly jovial for such a situation.

Jude’s eyebrows knit in the middle of his forehead. “What hickey on my neck?”

She just smiled. “That hickey on your neck,” she said, pointing to the skin on full display. He had not even had the respect to dab some concealer over it or fix his collar. She chuckled.

Jude turned to the mirror beside the front door, craning his neck to see the stretch of skin she was referring to. Russet eyes widened considerably at the sight of the reddened mark, his fingers pressing against it for two long seconds before he gathered himself.

“Oh, that?” he began, smacking his lips together. “That’s not a hickey!”

“That’s not?” she played along.

He smacked his lips together again. “No.”

She tilted her head further, crossing one hand over the other as she squinted at him judgmentally, questioning just how far he would spin the web of lies he rested within. “What is it, then, Jude?” she asked.

His eyes widened and he shrugged as if the answer were glaringly obvious.

“A mosquito bite!”

There was a pregnant pause as she processed his excuse, her jaw hanging slightly ajar while she nodded slowly, realizing only then just how absolutely dumb the man before her was. She had always overlooked it, citing his lack of logic on something that he did solely to make her laugh. Instead, the truth of Jude was less charming than she had chopped it up to be: where she envisioned a well-calculated, suave footballer instead lived a boy still stuck in his teen years, ditzy in treacherous ways.

Reality had punched her smack dab in her mouth, splitting her lip open upon contact. Now, she could taste the iron there, pooling around her teeth with each of Jude’s lies.

Still, against her better judgment, she chuckled. “Jude…”

“What? It’s a mosquito bite!” he maintained.

“Yeah?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. He nodded. “Mm. So, where were you that a mosquito bit you last night, Jude? Where were you in the winter that you got a mosquito bite? And quickly.”

Jude replied, “Babe, you know the club is by water.”

“Oh, it’s the club’s fault now. Which club?” she quizzed.

“Uh, Lavender Lounge.”

“Hm.” She shook her head, her lips twisted up. She made a show of eyeing the ceiling skeptically, tapping her chin for good measure. “That’s definitely not where Destiny and Kiara saw you, but okay.”

Jude squeezed his eyes shut at that. She simpered, well aware that he had forgotten that piece of information having been too caught up in sustaining everything else he had said.

“No, baby, I meant the Realm,” he corrected eventually.

Her smile grew, dazzling now. “Oh, the Realm. You mean the club that’s right by Amelia’s house? That one? That Realm?”

Jude appeared perturbed. “No, I meant–”

“‘Cause I’m thinking it’s that Realm,” she laughed humorlessly. The next time she spoke, her chuckles had progressed into full-blown giggles, her shoulders shaking despite the salty liquid collecting at her waterline. “‘Cause, y’know, I’m thinking you took your cheating ass to that Realm and met up with Amelia so you guys could fuck. That’s what I’m thinking, but I’m really just spit-balling here.”

“Baby, calm down,” was how he chose to respond.

Her reaction was instantaneous: she flinched, his words delivering a swift deck to her mouth in the same way reality had. Her brain vibrated against her skull at the impact of them. The pool of blood there only developed, dribbling from between her lips and falling onto the necklace he had bought her for their first anniversary.

She could only see red.

“Calm down?” she parroted, speaking through clenched teeth. “Calm. Down?! You cheat on me and you’re gonna tell me to ‘calm down’? Are you out of your fucking mind?!” she exploded, rolling up one of the coats in her arms and beaming it straight at his head. It smacked against his temple before thudding to the ground, though by then she had already thrown the next one. Jude was ducking as she shrieked, “And then you’re gonna cheat with Amelia of all people? Are you fucking crazy?!”

“No, baby, she’s lying!” he said as another puffer pelted him. He never imagined that such a fluffy jacket could cause such a sting.

“Amelia of all fucking people?!” she screamed, seizing her house slipper from her foot before flinging it at him with her dominant arm, too upset to risk the fifty-fifty chance of missing him. It smacked him right against the supposed mosquito bite above his collarbone and he let out a short yelp. “Of all fucking people! Fucking Amelia! You must’ve lost your mind!”

“Wait, wait, wait, okay, okay, okay,” Jude rushed, hands outstretched in front of him in an attempt to block the next item she would hurl. She stood barefoot in their foyer, her second slipper waiting patiently in her palm to be launched. Her eyes widened as she raised the slipper, a threat that he quickly took heed of. He caught his breath quickly, his next words cautious. “Okay. Baby. Listen. I-I think I have a solution, okay?” he said.

“Shut up!” The house shoe thwacked against the left side of his chest.

“Geez! Stop throwing slippers at me!”

“You’d rather a Timberland?!”

“Baby! Please! Just listen to me!” he beseeched, and though she felt as if she would sob from the searing pain his infidelity had forced into their home, she thought of the boy she fell in love with and agreed. Jude thanked her graciously. “I think I have a solution. Okay? Just hear me out, please. Please?” He waited for her shoulders to wilt and her hands to unfurl.

Jude’s lips parted and her heart cracked. She could not lie to herself any longer: she desperately wished that the next words that fell from his plump lips would be ones that she could believe in. She wanted, more than anything, to fall into his arms and break against his chest, to cry into his biceps and apologize profusely for jumping to incorrect conclusions, despite the fact that she had seen the pictures and videos from the club. Despite the fact that she had heard the answers fall from Jamal’s mouth when he frantically called out of her sleep. His actions were set in stone. Her fate would rely on the next thing he said.

“I’ll let you get back at me one good time to get it out of your system and then we can all just forget this happened,” Jude posed.

And with this, she swore, something shattered in her chest. She felt the shards of it succumb to gravity and stab at the insides of her feet, the pain stinging and sore and yet still a reminder that she was still alive– that she was still real, not yet ashes collecting on the grass.

He smiled weakly at her, attempting to gauge her reaction despite the hollow expression in her eyes. “Okay? So that you can’t be angry. Not that I’m saying I cheated or anything,” he threw in swiftly, catching his implied admission. “But since you think I did, I’ll let you cheat, too, so that it’s even! It’s like an eye for an eye, right? Even though I didn’t cheat. So, you cheat back–” (he had not realized he’d said ‘back.’ She was left to note this mentally, too drained to point it out) “–and then just,” he shrugged simply, “Don’t leave.”

“Jude, please get away from me,” was all she could say, unsteady on her feet as if she’d been out drinking the night before instead of him. She almost wished she had. Maybe, then, he would be the one praying for something, anything, to end his suffering– to wake him up and assure him that it was all a bad dream. Maybe he would feel the burn in his chest and the shake in his hands and the stabs in his feet. Maybe he would handle it better than her. Maybe, if the roles were reversed, he would not wish to die.

“Baby?” he tried.

“Give me my shit, Jude,” she ordered, extending her hand for the suitcase.

This time, Jude did not fight her. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he rolled the luggage over to her, gaze falling in shame at the way her fingers deftly avoided brushing against his. Just as his mouth fell open, his one last shot at getting her to stay with him– a long shot, he knew, but still a shot after all– seven rhythmic knocks hit the front door and he knew his time was up. Her two best friends streamed in, silent as they gathered her things and carried them to the car they’d parked out front.

He waited until the second to last bag was guided outside before clearing his throat, speaking past the lump that had cultivated there. “Where are you gonna go?” he asked, more for his sake than hers.

“That’s none of your business,” she replied icily.

“But,” his voice quivered, “Baby, I love you.”

“Jude, I don’t care.”

The cool breeze of the afternoon did little to nothing to tame the burning sensation burrowing beneath her brown skin, and just before she reached her best friend’s car, she bent forward and threw her long braids into a high bun, finding that the feel of it all around her was only proving to suffocate her more. She blew a kanekalon end from her vision, taking a moment to study the houses across the street. Husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers– and now, in the house that was once theirs, just Jude.

He called her name and her head whipped to the doorway. Her name on his tongue had always felt foreign. Now, she welcomed it. She had grown sick of the constant babys, nauseous at the insincerity of his tone and the slow way he would push the name past his lips.

“Are you serious about this?” he asked after following her onto the lawn, getting just close enough so that she could see the water in his reddened brown gaze. He sniffled. “Are you really going to leave me? Even though I told you I didn’t do it? A-And even if I did do it, would you really leave me that quickly?” He shook his head. A tear fell to his full lips. “You must’ve never loved me if you can leave this fast. Have you just always hated me? Huh? Do you hate me? Just tell me, please, I can take it.”

This was his latest tactic, she knew: crying and accusing her of hating him so that she could wrap her arms around his neck and fawn over him. She could only nod politely at the sight of his tears, so brand new and yet not nearly adding up to the amount she had shed ever since their home had reverted to the listing they’d found it under.

She just patted his arm. “Keep your head up, man.”

He did not speak as she slinked into the passenger seat. He did not speak as the engine revved. He did not speak as the car took off. There was only his soulless stare as she left his life– and this was when she began to second-guess herself, unable to fathom the man she thought she would marry not having any parting words for her. At the wobble of her bottom lips, her best friend turned up the City Girls song in an effort to cheer her up. As JT rapped about needing a man who would swipe his visas, she placed a cigarette between her lips, sniffling past the sting at the back of her throat and mentally saying one final goodbye to the man she loved. She laughed loudly at her friends’ complaints about the smell, rolling the window all the way down and deciding to savor what she hoped would be the final nicotine pull of her life.

The cigarette smoke trailed out of the passenger seat window, and she watched as the life that she knew grew minuscule in the side-view mirror there. She tasted wooden herbs and felt the burn at the back of her throat, drowning the sting of tears there– and then she felt her grandmother’s hand on her back, soothing her in a way that only the woman could.

She leaned her head back and the next drag was longer. When she opened her eyes, there was only the familiar smoke around her head, and then the baby-blue sky.

#jude bellingham #football imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x oc #x oc #x original character #x reader #x black fem reader #x black fem #angst #cheating #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x black reader

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thatsdemko · 18 days

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the culer- j.bellingham

masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear

It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.

you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.

if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?

you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.

“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.

yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.

why did it have to be him to decide the fate?

as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.

“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.

your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.

Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.

a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.

you.

his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.

—

you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.

you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.

“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.

“I came to see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.

“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”

the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.

“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”

“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.

“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.

“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.

“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.

“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”

“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.

“I did know that actually.”

he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.

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mchlgayser · 1 year

Note

heeey could u write about mason’s family finding out he has a girlfriend because she shows up at his door (when he answers she kisses him and everyone is shocked) thank u

OH MY GOD: : mason mount x female!reader

author's note: this is, by far one of my cutest fiction I think?! but lemme know what you think anon!! luv xx

contents warning: none // not proofread

'You got me a dress? ...In my closet room? ...Mason when did you even get here?!' He chuckles through the phone 'I'll tell you about that later alright? Just get dolled up for me angel!' He hung up the phone and you sigh, exasperatedly.

Mason told you today he wanted to bring you to a dinner date at his house, and you as a person who could't said no, you agreed to. What could possibly go wrong anyway?

Everything

You jog upstairs to your room and the linked closet room to see a black box with gold ribbon laid before you on the accessories drawer. You carefully pull open the box to see a long and elegant pink maxi dress neatly tucked

You present the dress in front of you feeling giddy and bubbly to wear it for today's special occasion.

You did your make up not too long after, putting on the dress and get your 'M' initial necklace and a pair of eggshell white pearl dangling earrings. After that you put your hair on a neat low bun and strands of hair at the front curling it a bit.

Satisfied with the look, you grab a purse along with a few of your necessities and then left the house.

Mason on the other hand started to grow more anxious, his polo-collared shirt is beads with sweats, his hands is shaking, too scared for your reaction and his family but he knows none of it won't be too negative but he'll get nagged from both parties.

His family are still preparing the dishes while his father and his brother in law on the hall talking business, him on the other hand has been quite nonstop looking out the window to see if your car had parked outside his residence.

'Guys, dinner's ready!' His sister, Chloe announced 'Mason come on--'

'I invited--'

The front door bell chiming, the whole family turns up to Mason 'Friends coming over?' He gulps, his mom head shake at the weird behavior of his son and gets up 'Let me get the door!'

'I'll do it, mom,' He rush to the door, his whole family is still eyeing him, he could see it from the corner of his views

He opens the door welcoming you, you squealed giving him a long chaste kiss on the lip and his cheeks. A series of 'What?' and a shrieking 'Oh' comes after that, you peep from his shoulder seeing his whole family looking at you both, well partially you...

You gapped in surprise, eyes going back and forth between Mason and his family. The mother came up to you first 'Gosh dear, you must be Mason's girlfriend,' She laugh immediately easing the tension, you gulp eyes burning holes into Mason as she drags you over the table and strike an immediate convos. His father joined in and soon his sister

'So how long you to've known each other?' She questioned you, you awkwardly chuckle 'It was't long, eight months I think? We met during an award show, I was the host and we had short interview together..' You blurted out, Mason beside you smile along and confirming it.

It was like that for the next past hours, his family opening up to you, especially his mom, she's very supportive, very reliable and caring too, easy for a timid person like you to even talk to her.

The day went by fast, and soon they left, you rolled your eyes at Mason and went back inside the house 'Wait babe--'

'What?! You got me meeting your family while I'm like this..' You pouted at him and he laugh, clasping one hand over your waist 'Like what..? You look decent.'

'Am not, I would've put more effort if I know it would be a dinner date with your family... I know I said that I'm ready to meet them whenever but not surprising me like Mase!' You complained, hand crossing over your chest getting sulky

He crooks a small smile and kiss your hand 'Well it went well innit?'

You suck your teeth and dismissed the topic 'Whatever but next time you gotta tell me first so I can prepare gifts or something...' He hums and followed after you inside the house

'You could say that all my family are fond of you, especially mom..' He admitted with a toothy grin, you mirror his expression and nods 'I think so, not too bad am I? Do you think they'll approve me to be part of the Mount family?' You joked sending a giggle his way, he froze for a second before he wraps both arms around you 'Yeah, they won't mind that, I think mom will definitely say this "the sooner the better" don't you think?' You flush down to your neck as Mason laughs at your unexpected reaction 'So cute!' He cooed scooping you up and bringing you to his bedroom

'Stay for the night, yeah love?'

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lovergiirlsblog · 1 year

Text

Deep end

Summary: Y/N who’s struggling with infertility started to distance herself from Mason. How will the Chelsea boy react ? Will they work It out in the end, or have they already fallen into the deep end ?

Warnings: Mention of infertility, a lot of angst

Note: This made feel so emotional. Hope you like it. Also I might make a part 2 of it.

Please listen to this song while reading

Negative.

Once again, negative.

I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror: red rims around my puffy,bloodshot eyes , rosy nose and cheeks. I’ve been crying for an hour now. I sighed and unlocked the bathroom door after throwing the pregnancy test in the bin. Mason and I have been trying to have a baby for a year now but every single test we did turned negative. And I’d be lying if I say that this whole situation hasn’t affected our relationship . We’re not who we used to be, and I don’t know if we can ever go back to the couple that we used to be.

I grabbed my phone to find a text from Mason.

From Mason:

Stacey is home. I invited her and the whole family :)

To Mason:

Of course. I’ll prepare dinner.

I no longer tell him about the test results. It’s something that I’ve decided because what’s the point of telling someone over and over again that he won’t be a father?That he won’t have a kid to teach how to play football. He always plays tough when he’s around me but I know it’s killing him too. I,once,heard him gasp from crying when he thought he was alone at home. And honestly,I don’t want him to be torn every time. I kept the grief to myself.

When Mason is around I always try to act occupied with work or sleep early just to avoid him. I don’t know why but I often find myself refusing his sex offers,thankfully he was understanding and never forced me to do something that I don’t want to.To me making love isn’t about having fun with the man you love anymore, it’s just a procedure to get pregnant… but will always end with disappointment.

Sometimes I look at him and think: Won’t he be happier with someone else ? Won’t someone else give him what he needs whenever he wants to ?

“Hi” he whispered when he walked in the kitchen.Hi, good morning, good night is all that we say to each other lately. “Hi” i greeted him without making eye contact. I can’t look at him. His eyes remind me of my failure. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. How the hell did we turn into strangers that live together? “ I, um, I’ll be upstairs. They should be here in an hour” he mumbled awkwardly,scratching the back of his head. I nodded and watched him disappear upstairs. I finished dinner and changed minutes before the doorbell rang. When I went back downstairs I found Mason opening the door. Summer,Poppy and Harley jogged towards him and wrapped their tiny arms around his legs. He lifted them one by one to plant a kiss on their cheeks.

“Aren’t you going to greet us Y/N” I didn’t realise that I was staring at Mason and the kids when Lewis joked. I hugged him tightly and explained” I’m sorry. I blacked out. Hello everyone please come in” I squeezed all of them and we all went to the living room. I grabbed some drinks and snacks and sat next to Mason who had Summer on his lap. They were both laughing. Every laugh breaks my heart a little bit more.

“ Since you’re home now,will you come to Stamford bridge and watch me play ?” He addressed to Stacy who was wiping Poppy’a mouth with a napkin. His arm wrapped around my shoulder-just like the old days- and it’s the first physical touch we had in a while. I didn’t push his arm away actually, it was the first time that I feel comfortable with him touching me. Maybe because we weren’t alone?

“Of course I’ll come to watch my baby brother”

An hour later,I,with the help of Lewis and Stacey,set up the dinner table. And we started eating.

“So how are you two,love birds?” Mine and Mason’s gaze landed on Stacey and we both faked a smile “We’re okay” we said at the same time.

“Are you staying in England for a long time ?” I tried to have a conversation with her to break the awkward silence and be a good host.

“I’ll leave right after New Year’s Eve. By the way the food is so delicious.”

“I know right. She makes the best food. Mason is a lucky bastard.” Lewis quipped.

“I know I am“ I glanced at him and frowned my eyebrows.

“Thank you guys.I’m glad you liked it”

The kids finished first and wanted to play with Mason while Debbie insisted that she will clean the table. We watched as Summer covered Mason’s eyes from behind and innocently asked him to guess who’s behind him. “Um.. I’m not sure.Is it Lewis?” He played along making them giggle so hard “ No.Uncle Mase it’s me Summer”.

I found myself smiling so big, but I looked away when my eyes met his.

“He’s so good with kids. I’m sure he’ll make a great father one day.” Stacey rested her head on my shoulder”Are you considering having kids ?” I looked down at her,her gaze was still on Mason and the kids.

“I-I can’t-“ I didn’t know what to say but thankfully Jasmine unintentionally saved me “ Can we go home ? I’m so tired and sleepy”. We said our goodbyes and they immediately went home leaving us alone,again. After closing the door,Mason approached me ,wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close without any warning. “Mason-“ I tried to gently push him away “Mason please”. He stopped and looked in my eyes. His eyes were full of hurt and devastation. “I can’t even hug you now ? Great. That’s great!” He laughed in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell your family ?” I ignored his sentence.

“ tell them what ?” He frowned.

“ That I can’t conceive.. that I can’t give them what they want. That I can’t give YOU what you want” my voice cracked.

“ Why do they need to know ? » he sighed « We’re young Y/N and we can always try again if that’s what you really want.I still have hope.”

“Hope?” I laughed “Hope is the most devastating thing. Hope is cruel.”

Would I be this shattered if I didn’t have hope ?

“ Kids aren’t what I want anymore. You know what I badly want ? I want my wife back. Yes I would be happy if we had a child but I would be happier if i still had the old Y/N.Whoever is standing in front of me right now isn’t the girl that I loved. I feel like I don’t know you anymore Y/N. Are we together just to have kids ? What about love ? What about you and I Y/N ?” He ran a hand through is hair” how did we end up like this ?” His voice was full of hurt. I looked down at my feet and mumbled”The girl that you loved won’t come back. I’m sorry.” I stared off into the distance,trying so hard to hold back my tears.

“That’s all you got huh ? I want to help you Y/N, but you keep pushing me away. Do you think I didn’t notice you crying in the bathroom whenever you think I’m asleep ? I didn’t want to force you into talking about it I wanted you to willingly open up to me so we can work it out together but you never did. And I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sick of you treating me like a stranger.”

He shouted,fist pushing the wall and walked out of the house leaving me sobbing with my head in my hands. Of course he’ll get sick of this. But he’ll never understand how worthless I feel when he slightly touches me. I don’t know why he has never lost hope or why he has never given up on me.

Four hours passed since he left and I was starting to worry. Has something bad happened to him ?

To Declan:

Hi sorry for bothering you but I wonder is Mason at yours ?

From Declan:

No he’s not here. Is everything alright ?

To Declan:

Yes. Don’t worry. Good night Dec !

I put my phone on the sofa when I heard the sound of keys in front of the door and rushed to open it and reveal a very drunk Mason leaning on Ben. His eyes were so tipsy, I’ve never seen him this drunk before. After putting him on the bed and going back downstairs Ben stated” Look Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on between you both but Mason isn’t okay at all. He has been playing like shit lately if you haven’t realised it yet. Also he usually never drinks when we have training the next day but look at him now.. Potter is going to scold him so bad tomorrow” I bit my nails titling my head down and nodding “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry Ben. Thanks for telling me”

I grabbed a glass of water,and walked to the bedroom where he was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling “Here drink this it might help” I handed him the cup.”Y/N?” He called”Why don’t you love me anymore ?” His words hit me like knives,straight in the heart.Did I really cause all this damage? He doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. He deserves so much better. So much better“ I still love you”

He chuckled taking a sip from the cup of water “weird way of showing it” I helped him take off his shoes and change into something more comfortable. “You need to rest Mason. We’ll have this conversation tomorrow when you’re sober enough”

“You don’t even look into my eyes when I’m sober enough” he wiped his eyes” I’m trying to help you heal Y/N. I can’t lose you. If you need space I’ll give it to you, just please don’t leave me” his voice became weaker and weaker as he shut his eyes. His soft snores were heard minutes later. I pulled the blanket to his chest and pushed the hair that fell on his sweaty forehead. “I’m so sorry for burning us down” a tear fell from my eyes and landed on his cheek.

I put my luggage in my car as soon as the sun rose and left a letter on the nightstand next to Mason.

Dear Mason,

I’m sorry I left without telling you. But it’s honesty what I needed. I wanted space so I can figure out our future together. Unfortunately, I couldn’t accept the fact that I am infertile, and it makes me feel less of a woman and I’m deeply sorry for treating you that way, I let my selfishness take the best of me. Every time that you try to get closer, I get flashbacks of how I felt the last time that we tried and had a negative result. You, my dear Mason, are the most important person in my life and I can’t thank you enough for trying to help me but no one can help me except myself in this situation. I promise I’ll be back weather as the old Y/N that you knew or with divorce papers. You don’t deserve to go through this Mason,so if I will still feel the same, I’m afraid I’ll let you go. You can be happy with someone else and start a family. Until then, I love you more than life. Please try to understand and don’t be mad.

PS: I left some painkillers on the nightstand x

Yours sincerely,Y/N.

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sunny44 · 1 year

Text

Accident

Pairing: Mason Mount x mom!reader

Warnings: car accident

Summary: Where y/n has a car accident with their daughter on the way to Mason's game and at halftime he gets the news that they are in the hospital.

I was already very late for the game, I got tied up with work stuff and missed the alarm I set up, so now I was running out of time to get to the game in time.

Only in the middle of the way some idiot came with everything and threw my car far away.

"Oh my God." I unbuckled my seat belt and turned to the back seat watching my daughter cry loudly. "It's okay, baby."

Soon I could hear noises of ambulance and police cars, they came to me and I got out of the car carefully holding my daughter.

"You need to be checked." The paramedic said.

"I'm not letting her go."

"Give her to me so she can also be checked.”

"I already said I am not releasing her, it is my right to accept treatment or not if I am conscious and as I am and I said no. I'll accept being taken to the hospital and in the ambulance you guys can check her but I'm not letting you take her out of me."

"All right, let's go."

I got into the ambulance trying to calm her down, I was nervous and scared, I needed to talk to Mason but my stuff stayed in the car so I couldn't call him. They check us and none of us have a concussion in the way to the hospital.

As soon as we arrived I had to hand Maia over to the nurses so they could run tests on her and me.

After about half an hour I was back in the room and soon they brought her back to me, I started breastfeeding her because she was hungry.

"The police will be coming here in a few minutes to take your statement miss, is there anyone we can call to stay with you?"

"Yes there is my husband Mason but he is busy right now so he’s not going to see the call."

"Anyone else?"

"Actually there is his coach number, you can call him and tell him I had an accident please." She agrees and writes down the number I gave her and leaves the room to make the call.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Mason was playing with pride knowing that his team was winning and that his wife and daughter were somewhere in the stands watching him play.

Little did he know that they were both in a hospital room waiting for him to come to them.

The first half ended and Mason went to get a drink of water, but the worried look on the coach's face made him worry that something bad happens.

"Is everything okay?" He asks.

"I got a call from the hospital, your wife and daughter were involved in a car accident."

"Are they okay?" He asks worriedly.

"They are fine, they took them there for some tests but you should go there."

"Yeah, sure."

I grabbed my things and ran to the car, it was a little difficult since there were some fans there but I managed to dodge them and go to the hospital that the coach had told me about.

The way there was torturous, even though he said they were fine I hadn't seen them with my own eyes yet.

I ran inside the hospital and stopped in front of the reception desk and after she told me the room I ran to where my girls were.

"Thank God." I say entering the room and going to them. "How are you my love?"

"We are fine Mase, it was just a really big scary accident."

"What happened?"

"I was late with work stuff and after I let the babysitter go we were on our way to the game when some crazy person came up fast and hit us." She says tearfully. "But I swear I was paying attention to the road and I wasn't going fast and..."

"Relax, I believe you babe."

"It's just that I don't want you to think that i was going fast with Maia in the car and that I've put her at risk and..."

"Calm down, honey, you're too nervous." She stops and takes a deep breath. "I know you're careful when you're with her and it wasn't your fault, it was the person who hit you."

"It's just that I can't stop thinking that something bad could have happened to her."

"I know, I spent the whole way here thinking the worst had happened to you but it's okay now."

"Can you lie here with me?"

"Of course I can baby." She goes to the side and hands me Maia who smiled when she saw me. "Let's watch the rest of the game."

I turned the TV on the channel and we stood there watching the end of the second half together.

Bonus scene!

Masonmount instagram post

Liked by @yourusername, @benchilwell, @yourmom, @jazbenham and others 818739

Tagged: @yourusername

@masonsount as you may know two days ago on they’re way to the game, my wife and my daughter were involved in a car accident.

I just wanted to let you guys know that they are fine, luckily the accident wasn’t serious just very scary.

Thank you for all the messages of support, my wife and I appreciate and we’re going to take a break from the social media to take care of our little family.

Comments have been disabled

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list of Mason and another footballers I’ll write for

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judeslove · 5 months

Text

injuries

pairing - mbappe x footballer gn!reader summary - you get injured in a game genre - fluff, slight angst warnings - swearing, crying, injuries, a dislocated ankle

You were prepping for your game against Manchester City. It was definitely going to be a tough game. Manchester City were currently the top of the Premier League with your team being second.

You checked that everything was right and then you entered the pitch. You loved the screaming fans. Some might hate it, but you loved it. It gave you more motivation. You fixed your socks as the whistle blew. The green grass was freshly painted, the paint transferring slightly to your boots.

Kylian had promised to come. You scanned the whole crowd while you had the time and eventually saw him. He was standing there with some of his friends from the French team.

You continued focusing on the game. The ball was passed to you. You were a player that many feared, so that meant that you got tackled horribly a bunch of times. Unfortunately for you, it happened today aswell.

The pain hitting your ankle travelled to your other limbs. The tackle sent shivers to your body as your nerves were hit in the process. A horrific scream escaped your mouth as you held your ankle close to your chest. You checked the ankle. It was turned to the right in an unnatural position. You felt like throwing up. Your ankle was dislocated.

A whistle was heard as you saw a glimpse of a red card to the opponent. You felt happy about the red card but upon seeing your ankle, your mood fell. The medics arrived to you and asked to do some breathing exercises.

“Okay now take a breath inhale, hold, exhale. Now, I need you to tell me where it hurts” the medic quietly asked you.

“Fucking hell, everywhere!” you yelled frustratedly. The medic took a glance on your ankle and sighed. They carried you out and your team was gifted a free kick. Thankfully, as revenge they scored.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Kylian, how he was feeling. You once again scanned the crowd and saw his face. It was full of pure shock and worrying. You couldn’t wait to go home, but didn’t wait for the recovery. Being a top scorer in your team and missing games meant no good, especially because Champions League was right around the corner.

💌 judeslove on tumblr

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dumbseee · 4 months

Text

rumours.

in which, fans start to speculate about you dating jude because you wore the same hoodie.

jude bellingham x influencer!reader.

fc: nailea devora.

note: this one is extremely short but maybe i should make a little serie.

liked by yourbestie, monetmcmichael, bretmanrock and 786 081 others.

y/n: madrid looks good on me tho

larray: comeback bitch i miss you

liked by y/n.

fan1: she’s not wearing jude’s sweater this time 🤭

fan2: leave her alone omg

fan3: can y’all stop talking about jude?? she obviously isn’t dating him

fan4: i’m so in love with you

fan5: queen you should mute the name "jude" these fangirls are insane

fan6: Y/N QUICK HIDE, HIS GROUPIES ARE COMING

fan7: y/n is it true that you’re dating jude?

y/n: who the fuck?

fan8: SEE SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHO HE IS

fan9: she wouldn’t be lying about that leave her alone

fan10: stunning omg

fan11: leave jude alone you freak!

view all comments.

insta dms.

y/n:

you better address what’s going on with your fans before i start cussing you out on the internet

judebellingham:

hello to you too, y/n :)

loved your video btw

if you got rid of the hoodie you can borrow mine, green looks good on you.

y/n:

fuck you and that hoodie.

#football x reader #football masterlist #football au #football #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x oc #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #bellingham #real madrid #fluff #socmed au

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damiansgoodgirll · 9 months

Note

hi could you please write thigh riding with Jude something spicy...

i’m not the best making these lol

jude bellingham x reader

tw : smut

thigh riding

“come here baby…” jude said indicating his lap.

he was only wearing a black t-shirt and his boxers, claiming it was too hot to wear something else. you were both sitting on the couch watching a movie but you couldn’t help staring at his big thighs.

jude noticed it immediately but pretended and acted all normal as he kept watching the movie but he couldn’t stop the naughty thoughts filling his mind and he knew he had to do something about it. he knew what you wanted from simply looking at you clenching your thighs everytime his hands came in contact with your skin.

“come here beautiful…” he smiled when he noticed you got all shy and flustered.

once you were fully positioned on his thigh, he thought it was fun teasing you. his hands slowly lifted your t-shirt up and removed your bra, his lips immediately touched your nipples, making them go hard.

you left a soft moan but you wanted, no, needed more.

you started grinding your hips down on his thigh but he stopped you.

“not so fast love…” he whispered in your ear.

his hands helped you lifting your hips up and worked to remove your pants and underwear. red cheeks filled your face when you saw jude noticing the wet spot left on your panties.

“is this for me?” he teased you and you nodded “i thought so…”

his thumb slowly circled your clit and that simple action made you throw back your head and grind your hips harder on his thigh.

“go on baby, make your self cum…” he said biting your nipple and fully taking it in his mouth.

you started moving on his thigh, his lips still attached to your breast and his hands randomly moving over your body, touching your back, your neck and occasionally slapping your ass.

jude wanted to see you completely wrecked and so hands moved to your hips as he started guiding you faster.

his slow movements and his rigid thigh were enough to make you lose your mind and you never felt so embarrassed for coming so fast. you released all over his thigh and you swore you felt jude’s hard dick close to your own thigh.

“oh what a mess baby…” he teased you once again “who’s gonna clean all of this? uh?” he asked you and you were completely speechless “perhaps i have another way…” you didn’t have time to process what he was saying that he threw you on the sofa as his body was over yours.

“jude… i can’t take it” you lied “i’m too sensitive”

“oh no no. you’re taking everything i give you princess…” he said as he lowered his head only a few inches away from your pussy “prepare yourself because you’re not leaving this couch until you’re all wrecked” he said smirking.

you weren’t mentally prepared for what was coming but you knew you wanted this and you couldn’t wait to see what jude had in mind for you.

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bl00dst41ned · 7 months

Text

*.·:·.✦ my little secret (jude bellingham ‘series’ pt.1) ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x female oc (Mariah)

summary: in which Jude chooses the wrong time to break up with Mariah

author's note: saw @mwahuniverse’s post. here it is. might be a three to four-part series so if you want to get tagged for the other ones, comment or drop it in my asks (part 2 is already ready and out Friday or Saturday hehe)

series masterlist

word count: 654

Two lines.

It felt like Mariah’s eyes could not get away from these two lines on the pink stick.

These two lines, as simple as they looked, were about to change the entire course of her life.

Not believing the sole test even after staring at it for minutes, she quickly picked up the other tests:

Two lines

“Pregnant”

“Pregnant, 2-3 weeks”

The young woman’s vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears that she tried to dry with her hands. But the overwhelming feeling took over, tears now strolling down her cheek.

Not tears of sadness, but of happiness. Happiness from growing life in her belly. Happy to start a family with the person she loved, Jude.

Speaking of him, Mariah checked her phone, seeing that her boyfriend should be back. She rushed to hide the tests and order some of their signature meal they only eat together.

Behind the door could be heard keys jiggling before it opens. Jude doesn’t have time to walk in that he is greeted with an overly cheerful Mariah. He gave her a quick kiss on the temple before heading to the living room with his girlfriend on his steps.

“I have something to tell you” Mariah started with a smile as they sat on the sofa.

Weirdly, Jude sat as far as possible for her, something he started to do for a few days now. Mariah had picked on his change of behaviour but decided to ignore it.

“Wait, let me start” Jude interrupted in a stern voice, which caused Mariah’s smile to slowly fade.

“I think we should stop this”

“Stop what?” Confusion laced her voice.

“Us”

His words hit her like a car crash. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. Jude, the man that she loved, just broke up with her for no apparent reason. Broke her heart when she thought their love was sealed by the little seed that was about to grow in her belly.”

Her breathing got heavy and palms became sweaty but she tried to cover it.

“Wh-why ?” She managed to ask in the least shaky voice she could let out.

“I just don’t feel like doing it anymore, I kind of lost interest” He nonchalantly responded, breaking Mariah’s heart even more.

“Yeah, we should end it now, you go your way and I go mine”

The more he spoke the more it felt like he stamped on her heart. As much as she tried to keep face and not show anything, her body decided otherwise since her hands lightly shook from trying not to burst out crying.

As Jude kept on ranting as if he didn’t care how Mariah felt, her phone buzzed repeatedly.

She opened her phone seeing a DM from an unknown girl, named Leslie

missleslie

*sent one attachement*

tell my man I can’t wait to see him again 😘

Mariah opened the attachment seeing a mirror photo of her, Jude laying in the background on his phone. The same phone, set on the coffee table. With the same outfit he wore right in front of her. The same Jude that just broke her heart had spent the day with another girl.

“Who’s that?” She turned her phone around showing the picture to him.

He let a light smirk grow a bit before he just sat back unfazed

“What d’you want me to tell you?”

After all their time together, Jude had always cared for her, making sure nobody, not even him, hurt her feelings. But now it felt like all of it had gone away.

“Just go, bro”

To which he did. He walked out of her apartment without a word or even a look. He just left her.

Once the door closed, Mariah took out the test, looking at each of them intensively. She bursted in tears, not able to control them.

She cried and cried until there were no tears left to cry.

like and repost for support (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

#written by bl00dst41ned #my little secret series #football #football fic #football imagine #football x oc #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x oc #hope you like it

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peaky-shelby · 1 year

Text

Your Mark | Jude Bellingham x Reader

Request: This is a request for Bellingham please. I hope it's okay that I asked for my own line. "We were good together right. It wasn't all in my head."

Writer's note: did i drop everything to just write this because this was my first request for Jude? ABSOLUTELY! I MEAN FINALLY! This guy is freaking adorable. I hope you like this short story 👀

The stadium was empty. Jude was standing in the middle. Ball on his legs, he’d kick it back and forth, sometimes up and knock it with his knee. He looked so small in the wideness of the stadium, the stadium that just a few minutes ago was full of people cheering. He looked tiny and vulnerable in the middle of the green grass, a figure in the distance. I walked down the stairs slowly, hands in the pockets of my hoodie, with each step wishing that he’d walk away or disappear. He knew I was there before I even said anything. He turned his head slightly to catch me from the corner of his eye, a faint smile on his lips.

“Still here?” he asked, catching the ball in his hands. I got closer but kept a respectful distance. I didn’t know why you were here, why I hadn’t left the minute the game ended but it’s like I had to speak to him “He’s not done with his shower yet?” he asked, finally turning to look at me. I looked away, taking in a deep breath. I focused on the grass beneath my feet, stroking it with my shoe.

“You know him. He likes to take his time.” I said, trying to lighten the mood but he didn’t seem to be appreciating the joke. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for jokes at all but he came closer slowly, throwing the ball in between his hands. Suddenly he was closer than I expected, when I looked up from the grass I was met with his chest. I had to raise my eyes in order to see his face, he was that close. But I looked back down quickly, avoiding his eyes. I could already feel myself sinking in his cologne.

“I wasn’t that slow” he said, his breath hitting the top of my head as he spoke. There was a tone in his voice I recognized but I hadn’t heard in a while. It was suggestive and sexy, warm and gentle at the same time. My eyes met his, he was staring right into my soul, I felt like he could read my mind so I stood still, trying to keep my thoughts silent. Now I was the one feeling small in the wide stadium.

“No, you weren’t” I admitted and forced a weak smile on my lips. In another life I wouldn’t be waiting for his teammate to come out of the shower after the game. In another life I would kiss him and he would hold me in the empty field, celebrate his win with me but that life was another. This life was cruel. In this life I broke his heart and he left me because I deserved it. In this life we both committed crimes to each other. Yet my fingers reached for his jersey, slightly touching it as they moved up and down his chest. I didn’t expect him to reach for them and hold them in his hand but he did, interlocking mine with his and bringing my hand up to his mouth to kiss them. My mouth dropped open slowly as our eyes locked, now I could also read his thoughts. The regret of that night that we both decided to commit our crimes, the anger he still had for me even though it had been a year and the love he still felt, same kind of love I felt for him. It wasn’t just bad memories; it was good ones. Me waking him up before training, him waiting outside my university before my exam, sleepless nights talking, laughing, playing. “We were good together, right? It wasn’t all in my head.” I asked before I could stop it. This walk down memory lane had me feeling all sorts of emotions. He kissed my arm, his hand travelling up and pulling up my sleeve, uncovering the mark that he had left on my skin when he accidently pinned me against a tall burning radiator while we were making out- I laughed just by the memory and he did too. He apologized for a month after that happened, for both the burn and the mark that it had left. I kept telling him it was fine; it would always remind me of him.

“Yeah, I think we did” he said smiling. God had I missed that smile, I wanted to kiss it just to keep it for myself. It used to be mine. He used to be mine. His eyes reached mine again, this time softer “does that wanker treat you well?” he asked.

I laughed “He’s a good man Jude.”

“He’s lucky. I’ll give him that. Maybe he won’t fuck up like I did.”

“We both fucked up.” I argued “only blaming you would be wrong.”

“I Wouldn’t care” he admitted and stepped closer. “If he breaks your heart-“

“Yeah, I know, you’ll be right there waiting for me. Thank you Mr. sheeran.” He laughed stepping back, letting go of my arm. I wanted him to hold it again. I wanted to dive right into his arms. You laughed as well, hugging yourself. Then the mood started to slowly fall again, the laughs lowering, our eyes darkening because we both knew what we were doing to each other. “I’m gonna go.” I said quickly but I didn’t move “Maybe he’s done.” I added but I still didn’t move and neither did he. He didn’t move at all. In some weird fantasy of mine he had already wrapped me and kissed me but that was just a fantasy. So, I nodded to myself and I started backing away, replying of what it would be like to kiss him in my head. Of touching his hair and his skin again “oh fuck-“ I mumbled, letting the intrusive thoughts take over me and walked back to him quickly, standing on my tip toes so my lips could reach his, I didn’t even wait for permission before I kissed him and it only took a second for him to realize what was happening and kissing me back, deepening the kiss. Our tongues meeting after a year. His hands travelling up and down my body until they found their place on the small of my back, holding me close to him. I realized I had never kissed him goodbye so maybe that’s what this was. A chance to finally say an actual goodbye. We pulled away to get a breath, staring in each other’s eyes. I pecked his lips one last time “do me a favor and don’t wait too long, I want to see you happy.” I said, my voice breaking by the end of the sentence. He nodded, pecked my lips, the kiss lasting longer until he pulled away and his hand disappeared from my sides. We smiled at each other, despite the tears that we each shared. I turned away and left, this time not looking back because I knew it would just break my heart.

Possible part 2? 👀

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude Bellingham x oc #Bellingham imagines #football writing #football imagine #football requests #neymar imagines #neymar x reader #mbappe x reader

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1-800anklebully · 1 year

Text

That girl Jude Bellingham x black female oc

Summary: You are one of the best female players in woman football. And for some odd a reason a certain Dortmund player had taken a liking into you.

Warnings: Swearing, and use of alcohol, and just Jude being Jude. Also for sake of this imagine Trent plays for Borussia Dortmund. And probably more things I cant think off the top of my head.

Excuse any errors

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

It was a hot day in England to be exact it was about 28 degrees, you could not spot a single cloud in the sky it was as clear as day. The sun was the only thing out today.

Along with the female and male England teams they unfortunately had to train on this beautiful note the sarcasm. They were on separate grounds the men on the other and the woman on the other.

Simply just doing drills and works out as the men had a game approaching this week which meant the ladies had to attend it was mandatory.

“Girls are you mucking around? You’re meant to be working on your kicking skills. Especially you Gretchen.” Coach Martin pointed her out and she went a bright shade of red. He was wrong for that.

But hey that was Coach Martin for you he didn’t care who he offends or humiliates. He was honest and like it or not that’s who he is. The whole team have all came to the conclusion that’s who he is as a person.

He was so nonchalant to everyone including his wife. I think the only time he actually cracked a smile and let himself loose was when the woman had won their World Cup.

“Oh then you come fashionably late l/n. Maybe you can teach these girls how to kick a fucking football!” He seethed throwing his clipboard to ground and he stormed off the field to where the men were gawking in disbelief.

You on the other hand, had just arrived and were beyond perplexed on why he was so grouchy in the morning. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“What did you guys do to piss him off.” You sighed crossing your arms. You were the youngest in the ground yet you felt like the oldest.

“Nothing just practicing our kicking and he just flipped.” Gretchen sighed rubbing her face now recovered from being called out.

You raised a eyebrow.” I get what he means though. You’re lazy Gretchen.” She said making the men gasp and some say ‘oh shít’.

“E-Excuse me.”

“You heard me you kick like a pre-schooler and lack putting in effort when performing. I know we’re better and bigger than that. That goes for all of you we can’t be slacking off just because we won a cup.

It doesn’t mean anything it’s a new which means we have to try harder for another 4 years. Understood. Now let’s started.” You explained and they all nodded in agreement paring up with somebody to pass the ball back and forth.

A speaker was on, Burna boy was playing on the speakers some of the girls were dancing and the others were chatting while actually doing what they were told.

It was not surprising as they had respected their captain you and could never disagree with what she says due to her always knowing what’s best for their team.

“I wonder why Coach M was so mad at them they seem to be kicking efficiently.” Trent analysed joining Jude who was on his break watching the girls train. Not in a creepy way.

“I agree. Who is she.” Jude didn’t tear his eyes off you as you laughed handling the ball with so much skill and it was effortlessly too.

“Who?”

“Number 9.”

Trent furrowed his eyebrows, but once his eyes landed on you he smiled and waved at you and you blew him a kiss jokingly making him laugh.

“That’s Y/n L/n. Their captain. She’s a damn beast on the field you should see her.” Trent ranted amazed by your work.

“What’s so good about her.” Jude shifted uncomfortably not liking how doe eyed Trent looked at you.

“She has won countless medals and not to mention she’s the captain of her team at only 19 like you it’s incredible.”

“Oh yeah well how do you know her?” Jude couldn’t help but question. Trent then began explaining that your sister was dating one of his brothers. Tyler.

And you guys stood together at the wedding of one of his cousin wedding. Ever since then you made it your duty to tease him. Partially because you use to have a crush on Trent, but the crush faded as soon as you saw his dance moves that night.

It shocked you that someone that was mixed with Caribbean had no rhythm at all. Stiff as a board.

“Well she seems cool.” Jude expressed as he kicked down on the grass with his boots. Trent stared at him funny. There was no way…

“Do you fancy her?”

“No?!”

Trend rolled his eyes at how defensive Jude became it obviously meant that he found her some what attractive . Yet he couldn’t blame him. You were a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m just going to put this out there if you choose to pursue her, you’re not going to be 100% successful. She’s a tough one. Wants her eggs cracked.” Trent tried explaining but all Jude could see was love-hearts.

He wanted to get to know her, heck if he had known about her earlier he probably would’ve shot his shot.

You pivoted your right foot so that the ball had hit the inner side of your boot and boom the ball had went into the goal square.

Your team cheered as you run around the field screaming they had jumped on you which made you tumble down. However when down your eyes landed on a familiar pair of brown ones and they twinkled with delight.

You felt like you were in trance with this stranger and for whatever your eyes couldn't seem to drift away only until your teammates had carried you away to the locker-room and you loss sight of him in the crowd.

''Jude.'' Trent spoke a wide shit eating grin on his face he could beyond a doubt see that this youngin was already plotting your whole life together. That's how Jude was.

He falls in love to quick and believes in love at first sight. This is how he always tends to end up broken heart as he dates the first girl he sees.

''BOYS WE'RE RESUMING ARNOLD, BELLINGHAM!''

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

Your point of view

Time had now passed and the girls were done with their practice most were showering and others were chatting getting ready to leave. You stood against the wall typing mindlessly on your phone to your younger brother who was claiming there was no food at home.

Which was a lie because your mother always cooked at home for your father however your brother wasn't interested and only wanted fast food. So being the good old sister you were you would always buy him something when you could.

Lori, your teammate and best friend had came over and bit into you shoulder causing you gasp and flip around while she laughs toppling over.

"Girl you're weird as fuck you can't be doing that shit.'' You berated clutching your shoulder as she smiled goofily. She was always doing strange things to make her presence known.

She simply shrugged ignoring your statement.'' Who are you texting.'' She peers over your shoulder and scrunches up her face, when she sees your brothers name on the screen.

''Not that little brat.'' Her and your brother didn't exactly get along as he had a attitude problem according to her which wasn't exactly false.

''Not too much Lori. How are you beefing with a 16 almost 17 year old and you hanging onto 20.''

''That boy's a menace don't even.'' She waved you off for defending your brother and eyed Emily's arse as she walked by which made you roll your eyes at how she was not being subtle at all.

''Anyways, I saw Mr Bellingham eying you earlier on the pitch what's up with that huh.'' She nudged you knowingly as if you knew what on earth she was going on about.

''Who the hell is that? And piss off would you.'' You scoffed pushing her away to stop her hassle.

Lori's face had dropped there was no way you didn't know who Jude was he was all over tik tok and Instagram you name it. He was everywhere and for you not know who he was astounding.

Most 13-17 year old girls would be shaking their head at your lack of knowledge.

''Are you bloody serious? Number 22 that guy that was gawking at you that's Jude Bellingham.'' She stares at you alarmed at how un phased you were that he even glanced your way.

Quite frankly you weren't interested as the last thing on your mind was a boyfriend you already were one step ahead of Lori. She was probably already jotting down ideas on how to purposely make you two bump into each other.

''oh that's cool.'' You go back to texting your brother laughing at the text he sent you. Unaware of how badly she was glaring you down.

''I hate you sometimes you know that.''

'' I know.'' You chimed and began walking off to shower.

" You know he's feeling you!" She yelled out not caring who heard she just wanted to get her message across.

"NO HE'S NOT NOT!''

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

LATER ON THAT NIGHT

While on your drive back home after spending some time with the girls, the traffic to your house was absolutely bizarre. Especially at this time of the night since it was around 8pm you didn’t expect that much people to be out and about.

Sighing, you knew the best thing that you could was scroll on your phone to by some time. Adjusting your seat, you went on Instagram catching up on everything you had missed due to being a practice. Eh it was same same.

Insta models, DMS being flooded with messages from random people most positive but some could be quite nasty.

For some reason a random cloud had propped over you and it was encouraging to scroll through this Jude Bellinghams page.

So you did. Oh he took some nice photos. Mainly about football not really into posting his social life. That’s great.

Accept why were you stalking his page if you weren’t interested. You mentally scolded yourself and hopped off his profile going to something else.

You will give it to Lori though, he is quite majestic and definitely does have the looks. But of course you would never admit that out loud.

“Finally, you’re here.” Your brother exaggerated dashing up from the living room. He didn’t even greet you, he just finessed the bag of Maccas from you.

Your mother scolded him and he just hummed.

“Tobias.” She tutted him as he just took a bite of the burger and his eyes widened.” OH- thanks Y/n!”

You waved him off with a tired smile and just collapsed on the couch next to your mother who was knitting.

“Hey mama.”

“Hey sweetie. How was practice?” She never tore her eyes off her thread. It still marvelled you at how she threaded so efficiently even though she was approaching her late 40s.

''Practice was the same. Accept the girls were taking it lightly as they won a championship.'' You voiced your frustration making your mother tut her head.

''You're being so hard on them Y/N let then relax its only been 2 weeks. Lay off.'' Your mother insists knowing how uptight you could be fun was not in your vocabulary. Only when you were intoxicated which you'll see what I mean eventually.

''I agree stop being a tight arseeeee Y/NNNNN.'' Tobias sung getting all in your face causing you to shove him away and he falls backwards making your father let out a belly full laugh.

Tobias groans in agony getting from the ground clutching the back of his head, a grimace on his face.'' You're so damn aggressive.''

''Karmas a bitch ain't it huh.''

'' Y/N language.'' Your father reminded you.

''See this is why you don't have a boyfriend.''

The smirk had dropped from you face quicker than a ice cream on a hot day. You stood up from the couch and began tying your hair up. Sure your brother was almost a whole foot taller than you and had longer legs.

But you could take him down any day with your strength. He'll always be little bro, and respectfully he's gonna learn today.

''Y/N IM SORRY-"'

He screamed out and began running like a mad man you followed his lead.

"Whatever you do don't kill our son Y/N!''

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

Authors note: And just like that I have published another imagine this has been sitting here for awhile so I am glad its out there. I hope you all liked it!🤎

#jude bellingham x reader #jude Bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #fluff #football imagines #jude bellingham fluff #black girl reader #black female oc

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