para

introduction ~~

hii everyone! i’m para <3

im basically sort of a new writer. in 2024 i used to write one shots on wattpad..

i’m a part of many fandoms! way to many to state however.. i can though, give a few examples of who i’ll write for!

- dc , f1 , soccer , or any anime

(there’s a whole bunch like games and stuff but all you gotta do is request! if your unsure give me another option aswell!) theres no harm in trying !

links to my masterlists (coming soon!)

football / soccer ⚽️

f1 🏎️

req here

worth it

jobe bellingham x childhoofbsf!reader

jude catches you and jobe being close to intimate, when he tells mark and denise you expect suprise but they all expected it including your family!

taglist (tw) : a bit suggestive, caught, childhood bsfs, established relationship, private relationship

jobe had always been there for you.

when you were six, he was the boy who insisted worms deserved names before they were put back in the garden.

when you were ten, he was the one who pushed you on the swings higher than anyone else dared, promising he wouldn’t let you fall.

when you were fifteen, he was somehow still the first person you called whenever something good or horribly embarrassing happened.

somewhere between those scraped knees, movie nights, and borrowing each other’s hoodies without asking.. being best friends quietly turned into something else.

though neither of you knew exactly when. you just knew that one afternoon, while sitting shoulder-to-shoulder watching some awful rom-com, jobe had reached for popcorn at the same time you did causing your hands to bump into eachother.

he looked at you.

“…what?” you laughed.

“…nothing.”

“…you’re staring.”

“am i?”

“yes.”

“…i think you’re pretty.”

“…”

“…”

“oh.”

that had been almost eight months ago and now, the two of you were somehow dating. secretly though, not because anyone would necessarily care…

okay, maybe because they definitely would. your parents couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives and his family teased him over literally everything. so you both agreed to keep it between yourselves for a while which had worked surprisingly well.

until today.

“they’re all out,” jobe said, dropping onto his bed. “mum said they won’t be back for hours.”

“hours?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hours.”

you smiled. “that’s dangerous information.”

he grinned right back. “i know.”

you sat beside him, knees brushing together. “so…”

“so?”

“what do you want to do?”

he shrugged dramatically. “well, i was thinking we could revise-“

you burst out laughing. “you’re a terrible liar.”

“worth a try.”

you lightly shoved his shoulder but he caught your hand before you could pull it away, pining you down onto the couch in his room.

“…hi,” he said quietly, hovering above you.

“hi.”

“you’re really pretty.”

“you already used that line.”

“still true.”

your cheeks warmed. “you’re so cheesy.”

“and yet you’re smiling.”

“…shut up.”

instead of listening, he leaned closer “make me.”

“jobe-”

he kissed you before you could finish. it was the kind that made both of you smile halfway through because neither of you could take yourselves seriously.

you pulled away just enough to poke his cheek. “you’re insufferable.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he stole another kiss and when he realised youd given in he starting peppering them all over your face. eventually you were both laughing more than kissing, foreheads resting together.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “can i tell you something?”

“depends.”

“i think i’ve liked you since we were twelve.”

“twelve?”

“you beat up that kid who stole my football.”

“i did not beat him up.”

“you threatened him.”

“…”

“…”

“okay, maybe i did.”

“it was very attractive.”

you snorted. “that’s concerning.”

he leaned in again, wrapping an arm around your waist before dipping once again to kiss you. you let out a content sigh before your fingers tugged at his shirt, urging for him to remove it.

he pulled back, discarding the annoying piece of clothing and you took this as your opportunity to straddle his lap.

he let out a soft groan in response, his hand resting gently against your cheek while yours found the back of his neck. the kiss between you two only deepened, the soft moans from you being swallowed by his mouth.

neither of you noticed the bedroom door slowly opening in the heat of the moment.

“well.”

both of you froze. you immediately pulled away from jobe, who only whined in protest. you turned your head so fast your neck nearly cracked and standing in the doorway was his older brother. jude.

his arms were folded. it was obvious he was trying and failing not to laugh. “am i interrupting…?”

you immediately buried your face in jobe’s shoulder.

“i’m moving countries,” you mumbled.

“fair.”

jobe sighed dramatically. “can i help you?”

“actually,” his brother replied, “i came to ask if you’d seen my charger.”

he looked between the two of you. “…i see you’ve both been…busy.”

“leave.” jobe groaned.

“i mean, i found something way more interesting.”

“please.”

“you know,” he continued, completely ignoring him, “mum’s going to find this hilarious.”

your head shot up. “don’t you dare.”

he gasped dramatically, his hands going up. “oh, she’s speaking.”

you pointed accusingly. “if you tell anyone, i’ll-“

“you’ll what?”

“…hide every charger in this house.”

he blinked. “…that’s actually terrifying.”

jobe groaned. “can you please just go?”

his brother grinned. “absolutely. you can have as much smoochy you want” he reached for the doorknob. “after i tell everyone.”

“NO.”

he was already halfway down the hallway.“mum!”

jobe launched himself off the bed, gently pushing you off. “get back here!”

you followed, trying not to laugh despite the embarrassment. “don’t you dare!”

within seconds the entire house was chaos.

“what’s going on?” mark called from downstairs.

“nothing!” you and jobe shouted in perfect unison.

“they’re kissing!” his brother yelled.

there was a brief silence and then:

“…finally!” mark laughed.

denise’s voice chimed in. “i’ve been waiting YEARS.”

“i literally owe your dad twenty pounds,” mark admitted.

“wait you were BETTING? with my dad?!!” you exclaimed.

“of course we were.”

you slowly looked at jobe. “they all knew?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “…apparently.”

jude walked back into view, smug as ever. “for the record,” he said, “i guessed you two would start dating before christmas.”

“how much did you win?” jobe asked flatly.

“a decent amount.”

you sighed. “this is the worst day of my life.”

jude shrugged. “i don’t know.” he looked between the two of you with the biggest grin imaginable. “looked like it was going pretty well before i walked in.”

you covered your face. “shut up!!!”

jobe groaned so loudly the whole house heard it. “…i’m never recovering from this.”

“we never are..,” you admitted.

he reached over and quietly laced his fingers with yours anyway. “…worth it?”

you smiled despite everything. “yeah.”

“even with him?”

“especially because now he has embarrassing material for the next ten years.”

jude pointed. “correct…i’m making a wedding slideshow.”

“WE’RE EIGHTEEN!”

“never too early to prepare.”

~~

Can you do a short little oneshot of Jobe Bellingham x reader, where they both are childhood friends but soon gain feelings for each other throughout their friendship.

So basically like one of those cheesy rom com things, except they keep the relationship private from everyone basically.

Until one day, where Jobe and reader think they are home alone in his bedroom, and one thing leads to two before they are all over each other smothering one another in kisses, before big brother Jude comes in and catches them…

Basically a bunch of fluff, maybe suggestive comments, and whole lot of drama between the family (mainly jokes about reader and Jobe and what they were doing)

Sorry if this is explained so POORLY 🫣 but thank you if you ever do this one 💗

pics are from pinterest and aren’t mine!

worth it

jobe bellingham x childhoodbsf!reader

jude catches you and jobe being close to intimate, when he tells mark and denise you expect suprise but they all expected it including your family!

taglist (tw) : a bit suggestive, caught, childhood bsfs, established relationship, private relationship

no need to worry

jude bellingham x reader

you are super nervous to meet jude’s family properly for the first time, jude thinks it’s quite cute of you and can’t help but tease you for it

taglist (tw) : has smut, fluff, established relationship, unprotected sex

a.n: i fell asleep with my inbox open i’m pretty sure i deleted a few requests by mistake. i’m so sorry.

jude had been completely calm all week but you, however, had been anything but calm

“i don’t have anything to wear.” you stood in the middle of your bedroom surrounded by what looked like every item of clothing you owned. dresses were draped over your bed, jeans hung off your desk chair, three different jumpers had somehow ended up on the floor, and you were currently holding two tops in front of yourself with a look of complete despair.

jude leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded, watching the chaos with a smile that only made you groan louder.

“don’t laugh.”

“i’m not.”

“you are literally smiling.”

“because you’re cute.”

you threw one of the tops at him in which he caught it effortlessly. “this isn’t funny.”

“baby,” he laughed softly, walking over to you. “you’re acting like you’re about to sit an exam.”

“this is worse than an exam.”

“how?”

“because your family actually has to like me.”

he stopped smiling, not because he found it funny anymore, but because he could hear how genuine your worry was. “come here.” he took your hands before you could protest. “my mum already loves you.”

you blinked. “she’s never met me. only briefly at matches..”

“she’s heard me talk about you.”

“…that’s somehow worse.”

he laughed. “every time i call home, somehow you come up.”

your cheeks warmed. “jude…”

“i’m serious.” he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “my dad’s excited to finally meet the girl who keeps stealing my hoodies.”

you gasped dramatically. “you’re telling them that?”

“they asked why i suddenly needed new ones.”

you buried your face against his chest. “i’m never going.”

he wrapped his arms around you immediately. “hey.” his voice was softer now. “listen to me.”

you looked up.

“they don’t have to like you.”

“…they don’t?”

“because they already will.” he smiled “they trust me.” his thumb brushed across your cheek. “and i love you.”

his words caused your heart to skip a beat.

“if i love you this much…” he shrugged “how could they not?”

you let out the tiniest breathy laugh. “you’re very convincing.”

“i know.”

“…i’m still terrified.”

“that’s okay.” he kissed your forehead. “you can be terrified.” then another kiss to your lips. “just let me here with you.”

you pulled back slightly. “help me find what to wear?”

jude grinned. “model them for me.”

——

the flat settled into that quiet kind of chaos that always came with trying to get out the door. jude stood by the mirror fixing the collar of his shirt while you gave yourself one last nervous glance, smoothing invisible creases from your outfit for what had to be the tenth time.

he caught your reflection in the mirror and smiled before walking over, gently taking your hands to stop you from fidgeting. “you look beautiful,” he murmured, straightening a strand of your hair that didn’t even need fixing. “and if you keep checking, you’re going to convince yourself otherwise.”

you let out a small, anxious laugh, taking a steadying breath as he intertwined your fingers with his. “ready?” he asked.

you weren’t, not really, but with the reassuring squeeze of his hand and the warmth of his smile, you nodded anyway. “ready.”

——

the drive there was mostly filled with jude singing badly to whatever came on the radio while you silently picked at your nails.

without saying anything, he reached across the centre console and laced your fingers with his.

and he didn’t let go for the rest of the drive.

⸻

the second the front door opened, you were pulled into the warmest hug.

“finally!” denise beamed. “it’s so lovely to meet you.”

all the words you’d practised disappeared.“…thank you.”

great. one whole sentence. amazing.

jude looked over at you with the smallest grin causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

he looked far too entertained for ypur good.

dinner somehow became even more intimidating. everyone was talking so naturally while you quietly answered questions between nervous smiles.

you were trying so hard not to say the wrong thing.

“so…” mark smiled. “jude says you’re the only person who can convince him to watch romantic films.”

you glanced at jude. he looked completely innocent. “he said that?”

“he also said you cry during them.”

your eyes widened. “jude!”

“i absolutely did not.”

you finally smiled. “then how else would they know.”

his family laughed.

he pointed his fork at you. “traitor.”

“you left me to defend myself.”

“but it’s adorable when you do cry.”

your face warmed immediately. normally you would’ve teased him back. instead you looked down at your plate.

you were too flustered. too nervous.

and too aware that everyone was sitting around the table.

jude frowned slightly. he knew you. you always had something witty to say.

underneath the table, he gently bumped his knee against yours. you looked up and he smiled.

just enough to reassure you that:

you’re okay.

you smiled back, small but genuine.

⸻

by dessert, things had become easier and more comfortable.

you laughed more, joined conversations and told embarrassing stories about jude that had everyone laughing.

“she’s definitely staying,” mark joked.

“finally someone who’ll humble him.” jobe smirked

“oi,” jude protested.

you giggled.

——

the car hummed to a stop in the driveway and the engine clicked off into silence. home. finally. the porch light glowed soft against the dark.

you glanced at him. jude watched you with that quiet half smile he saved for moments like this. the one that said he saw every worry you tried to hide.

the second the front door of your flat closed behind you later that night, you let out the biggest sigh imaginable. “…i survived.”

jude laughed. “you absolutely did.”

you kicked your heels off dramatically. “i was convinced your mum secretly hated me.”

he stared. “..what?”

“i don’t know!”

“she hugged you three different times.”

“she was just being polite.”

he blinked once and then burst into laughter. “baby…” he walked over until you were trapped between him and the kitchen counter. “my mum asked me twice if you’d come over again next week.”

“she did..?”

“yes.”

“she was just being nice.”

he groaned dramatically. “she literally packed leftovers for you.”

“…”

“she told you to text her when you got home.”

“…”

“and she said-”

“okay!” you covered your face. “maybe she doesn’t hate me.”

he gently pulled your hands away from your face and laced his fingers through yours.

"she liked you," he said low. "more than liked. you know that now."

your shoulders eased a little. the fear that had sat heavy in your chest all afternoon loosened its grip. denise had been warm, laughing at your jokes, slipping you larger portions like you were already family. the leftovers sat in the backseat, proof.

"maybe," you whispered.

he leaned across the console and kissed you slow. the kind of kiss that started gentle and turned hungry fast. his hand slid to the back of your neck, thumb stroking the skin there until you sighed into his mouth.

"and do you know how much i love you?," he murmured against your lips. jude pressed close, hips pinning yours, mouth on your throat. heat flooded low in your belly. his hands roamed under your sweater, palms warm on your bare skin, pushing fabric up and off.

you nodded before tugging at his shirt. the buttons popped open under your impatient fingers. he shrugged it away and lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist like they belonged there. he carried you to the bedroom without breaking the kiss, dropping you onto the bed and following right after.

the rest off your clothes came off in a rush. his mouth traced every inch he uncovered, teeth scraping lightly over your collarbone while his tongue soothed the marks he left. you arched when his fingers found you slick and ready, circling slow then faster until your breath came short and your hips chased his hand.

"jude," you gasped.

he groaned at the sound of his name and replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding in deep on one smooth thrust. the stretch pulled a moan from both of you. he set a steady rhythm, hips rolling, one hand braced by your head while the other gripped your thigh and held you open for him.

sweat slicked both of your skin. the room filled with the wet sound of bodies meeting and the soft broken noises you couldn't hold back. he kissed you through every thrust, swallowing your whimpers, whispering how good you felt, how perfect you were, how proud he was of you tonight.

you came first, clenching around him with your nails digging into his shoulders. jude followed seconds later with a low curse, burying himself deep and pulsing inside you. he stayed there, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard while the aftershocks faded.

later, tangled in the sheets with his arm heavy around your waist, you traced idle patterns on his chest.

"wanna eat the leftovers she packed?," you asked softly, almost laughing.

jude huffed a quiet chuckle and kissed your temple. "ofcourse baby, she packed them with love."

you smiled into his shoulder and let the last of the worry drift away.

~~

pics are from pinterest and aren’t mine!

inlove with you

jude bellingham x streamer!reader

during an interview with all the players, the interviewer cant help but notice jude isn’t paying a lot of attention so he asks what jude is up to and jude happily tells he’s watching his girlfriends stream that he missed during his match. a few clips from the video show how smitten he is for you

a.n. genuinely am not okay with england losing.

the interview had been going on for nearly twenty minutes. all the players sat in a row, answering questions about the match they’d just won. there were laughs, little jokes thrown between teammates and the usual teasing whenever someone gave a boring answer.

jude answered the first few questions politely enough, after a bit pulled out his phone and slowly drifted away.

he’d still nod every now and then. smile when someone else was speaking but every few seconds, his eyes dropped back down to the phone resting in his lap. when his thumb would tap the screen, he would let out a small smile or shake his head with a grin.

the interviewer (capturing everything on camera) caught it almost immediately. “…jude?”

he looked up. “huh?”

the room laughed due to this cluelessness.

“i’ve got to ask,” the interviewer grinned “what’s more interesting than this interview?”

the rest of the squad immediately leaned over jude’s shoulder.

“he’s probably texting.”

“nah, he’s shopping.”

kane added dramatically, “he’s watching our highlights.”

jude laughed. “nah.” and then lifted his phone slightly. “my girlfriend’s stream.”

the room erupted in chaos:

“you serious? right after our match?”

“bro!”

“we’re literally sat here.”

the interviewer blinked before a wide toothy grin appeared on their face. “you’re watching her stream…during our interview?”

jude looked completely unashamed. “well…” he glanced back at his phone. “i missed it because of the match.” then he shrugged again. “so i’m catching up.”

everyone burst out laughing.

“look at this guy.”

“head’s gone.”

“finished.”

spence leaned over his shoulder, trying to peek. “is she even doing anything interesting?”

jude smiled without taking his eyes off the screen. “yeah.”

“…she’s just talking.” spence stated.

“that’s it?” gordon questioned

“yeah.”

“…and you’re watching that over us?”

“yeah.”

the interviewer had to stop speaking for a second, finding quite amusement in this fact. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone admit that so casually.”

jude just smiled. “she likes telling stories.”

another laugh spread across the room.“that’s adorable.”

“or concerning.”

“probably both.”

the interviewer looked at the camera “right. we need proof. camera, zoom in.”

jude instinctively tilted his phone away.“nah.”

“come on!”

“absolutely not.”

everyone started chanting:

“show us.”

“show us.”

“show us.”

finally, after enough teasing, jude sighed dramatically. “fine.” and he turned the phone just enough for everyone to see. you were sat in your streaming room wearing an oversized hoodie, headset slightly crooked after hours online.

“…and then,” your voice came through the speakers, “i accidentally spent forty minutes trying to solve a puzzle that chat had already solved.”

jude couldn’t stop smiling.

one player looked at him. “…that’s the bit you’re smiling at?”

he nodded. “yeah. she’s funny.”

“mate.” another teammate leaned closer.“you’re smiling like you’ve just watched someone score a bicycle kick.”

without thinking, jude answered quietly “she does that to me.”

the room immediately went silent then again a loud chatter erupted.

“OOOOOOH.”

“HE’S GONE.”

“IT’S OVER FOR HIM.”

someone actually clapped while another pretended to wipe away tears.

the interviewer laughed. “i think we’ve discovered the biggest fan of your girlfriend.”

jude didn’t even argue and simply nodded “probably.”

———

the clip spread across social media:

“jude bellingham admits he’s watching his girlfriend’s stream instead of paying attention to interviews.”

everyone loved it but what really sent the internet into complete chaos were the clips fans pulled from your stream.

⸻

clip one.

you were in the middle of explaining a game mechanic. “…wait.”

you suddenly smiled. “jude just texted me.”

your chat immediately exploded.

superawesomegirl: READ IT.

kiwiynsfavfan: WHAT DID HE SAY??

judebellinghamsleftshoe: SHOW US.

“no.” you laughed. “…it’s just him reminding me to drink water.”

⸻

clip two.

someone in chat asked, “does jude actually watch your streams?”

you smiled. “yep! every single one. even if he can’t watch live. he’ll go back later.he says he likes hearing me talk.”

the chat collectively spammed crying emojis.

———

clip three.

you had been telling a story that apparently wasn’t even that funny.

and halfway through you laughed at your own joke, covered your face and then quietly mumbled “jude’s gonna laugh at this.”

cut to the interview footage cause at that exact moment.

jude was watching and smiling exactly the way you predicted.

⸻

the edits became endless of you too.

your stream on one side and jude watching on the other with the most wholesome audio ever.

every time he instinctively looked softer whenever you appeared on screen, comments flooded every platform.

“the way he looks at his phone 😭”

“he wasn’t even embarrassed.”

“bro said ‘she likes telling stories’ like it explained everything.”

“the smile when she laughed???”

“he watches every stream???”

“this man is DOWN BAD.”

“he looked prouder watching her play games than when he won man of the match.”

“he literally lights up every time she speaks.”

⸻

later that evening, you were scrolling through tiktok and there were over a hundred notifications. most of them were people tagging you in interview clips.

you were confused so you clicked one and within seconds you were watching jude smiling at his phone while an entire room teased him mercilessly.

“my girlfriend’s stream.”

“i missed it because of the match.”

“she likes telling stories.”

“she does that to me.”

your cheeks burned red in embarrassment and fondness and before you could even process it, your phone buzzed.

🤍 jude

did you see it

you replied almost instantly.

i did. you’re unbelievable 😭

his response came a second later.

what? i just missed my favourite streamer. ❤️

~~

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

proud of you

jo. bellingham x reader

jobes may not understand physics but he can definitely see how hard you work. so why would he not support his partner when they present?

taglist (tw) : some random bs about physics, established relationship, jobe bellingham x reader, a rather embarrassing moment for reader, fem reader implied but you could read as gn!!

when jobe walked into your room while you were studying, he genuinely thought you were trying to decode an alien language.

your desk was covered in papers with equations filled almost every page. there were diagrams of waves, little sketches of atoms, pages of calculations, and your laptop had at least twelve tabs open.

he picked up one notebook, stared at it for a few seconds, then frowned. “babe.”

you hummed without looking up.

“is this… english?”

you laughed quietly. “technically.”

he looked at another page. “why are there so many squiggly symbols?”

“that’s greek.”

“…why?”

“physics.”

he slowly put the notebook back down. “…right.”

you finally looked over at him, smiling “confused?”

“a little?”

“a little?” you raise your eyebrows

“a lot.”

he wandered around your room before dropping onto your bed, watching you scribble another equation. “you’re actually enjoying this.”

you looked up. “yeah.”

“you’re terrifying.”

you threw an eraser at him.

and when he caught it he grinned. “my scary little genius.”

—

sometimes he’d find you buried in one of the study spaces, headphones on, surrounded by books. he never interrupted. he’d jusy quietly place your favourite coffee beside you before sitting across from you.

soon you’d eventually notice him. “how long have you been here?”

“twenty minutes.”

“…why didn’t you say anything?”

“you looked focused”

“i kind of am.”

“and i love looking at your pretty face.” he’d smile.

what surprised you most was how genuinely interested he was. even though he didn’t understand much but only because you loved it he would genuinely stop and listen you ramble all the way home.

“so if you ignore air resistance-”

“okay.”

“the acceleration stays constant because gravity is acting equally.”

“right.”

“and that’s why”

“wait.”

you stopped walking. “…you’ve understood absolutely none of that.”

he smiled sheepishly. “not a clue.”

you burst out laughing. “jobe!”

“i’m trying!”

“then why are you nodding?”

“because you’re cute when you’re excited.”

you rolled your eyes dramatically. “you’ve been pretending this whole time?”

“baby, after the words ‘ignore air resistance,’ i was fighting for my life.”

you couldn’t even be annoyed at him.

he reached for your hand. “i still like hearing you talk.”

“…even if you don’t understand?”

“especially then.”

—

during presentation week, ypu felt as if he was more nervous than you.

“it’s only ten minutes,” you told him.

“exactly.”

“…what?”

“that’s ten whole minutes where people are judging my girlfriend.”

you laughed. “they’re literally marking my presentation.”

“same thing.”

you sighed fondly. “you don’t have to come.”

he looked horrified. “of course i’m coming.”

“jobe. seriously.”

“i’ve already moved things around.”

“…you did?”

“i wouldn’t miss it.”

everyone was quickly finding seats inside of the lecture hall. a faint chatter only breaking the silence. you were setting up your slides when you spotted him walking in.

he wore a black hoodie and he was trying but failing to be subtle.

when he spotted you (which was the moment he entered through the door), he gave you two thumbs up from the back row which resulted in ypu smiling.

you spoke with a gentle yet informative voice, confidently speaking ypur data and research to the lecturers infront of you. you maintained eye contact with everyone through the presentation and whenever your eyes catched jobes you could see the slightly puzzled look on his face. it was kinda funny. he understood maybe three words maximum yet he was still watching you like you were the most incredible person in the room.

every time another student nodded along, he found himself thinking, yeah. that’s my girlfriend.

when your lecturer asked a difficult question at the end and you answered it without hesitation, jobe couldn’t help but grin and go shes so fucking smart.

“thank you.” you smiled politely before stepping away from the podium.

the room was silent for about half a second and then people started clapping.

jobe was already on his feet, clapping like you’d just won a nobel prize.

a full-on, proud-boyfriend applause.

“woo!”

someone in the room laughed and another student turned around to look at him.

he kept clapping. “that’s my girl!”

you immediately hid your face in your hands. “oh my god…”

your lecturer chuckled. “i assume that’s your partner?”

without looking up, you nodded. “unfortunately in these circumstances, yes”

jobe finally sat back down with the biggest grin imaginable as you approached him. he looked completely unashamed.

—

outside afterwards, you lightly smacked his arm. “you embarrassed me.”

“did i?”

“everyone was looking at you.”

“good.”

“jobe.”

“they should know how impressive you are.”

you tried not to smile. “you literally don’t know what my presentation was about.”

“correct.”

“you couldn’t even pronounce the title.”

“…also correct.”

“you asked me yesterday if what i was learning was about fixing clocks.”

“in my defence…” he scratched the back of his neck. “the word ‘mechanics’ threw me off.” he looked at you for a second before smiling softly. “i’m serious though.”

his voice became quieter. “i don’t understand physics.”

he reached for your hand. “but i do understand how hard you work.”

“don’t.”

“why?”

“‘cause i’ll cry.”

“that’s alright.”

you stepped into his arms without another word and he hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head.

“one day,” he murmured, “i’ll be sitting at your graduation.”

you smiled against his chest. “and clapping too loud?”

he laughed. “without a doubt.”

“everyone’s going to stare.”

“good.” he kissed your forehead. “they should know they’re watching the smartest girl in the room.”

~~

would you maybe be willing to write a kimi x reader fic where they’re childhood best friends who eventually fall in love? since they’ve known each other forever, they’re incredibly affectionate with each other and are basically each other’s safe place. like, reader is always able to calm kimi down whenever things get overwhelming after a race or something goes wrong, and they both care so much about how the other is feeling 😭

But… since I’m a very emotional person, I was wondering if you could include a part where Reader develops a serious health issue (like maybe pneumonia?? i’m not sure, but if you have a better idea i’d love that too 🫰🏼🫰🏼). she keeps it from kimi for a while because she doesn’t want to worry him or distract him, but her hospital visits become more and more frequent until she eventually has to be admitted because she’s really unwell, and kimi is just absolutely beside himself with worry. 💔💔

then she recovers, and they get lots of really sweet, comforting moments together 🤗

thank youu!!!

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

safe place

ki. antonelli x reader

you will always be each others safe place. no matter what happens.

taglist (tw) : kimi antonelli x reader, childhood bsfs to lovers, hospital, reader develops an illness, happy ending, emotional themes, lots of comfort

a.n : i like this idea! it took so long for me to write it tho

kimi always said the first person he ever loved was you. not in the romantic sense (not at first). you were just his person.

you were the girl who was there before the trophies, before the interviews, before the cameras started following him everywhere.

you were there when he was just andrea.

the boy who was always running late because he couldn’t find his shoes, who got too competitive over the smallest things, who would sulk for five minutes after losing a board game before secretly asking if you wanted to play again.

you were the girl who raced him down the streets on tiny scooters, who climbed trees even though you were both definitely too high up, who scraped your knees and laughed because you refused to admit you were scared.

you were the girl who stole fries from his plate without asking because “sharing is caring,” even though kimi always complained.

“you have your own.”

“yours taste better.”

“they’re the same fries.”

“no they’re not!!”

he would always end up giving you more anyway.

your families joked that you came as a pair. like peas in a pod. if kimi was invited somewhere, everyone asked if you were coming too. if someone asked where you were, kimi usually answered before anyone else.

“probably near the snacks area.”

“i’m literally standing right here.”

“see? i was right.”

you had always known kimi. you knew the difference between his happy silence and his worried silence. you knew when he needed advice and when he just needed someone beside him. and you also knew when he wanted to talk and when he just wanted to sit with his head on your shoulder and forget about everything for a while.

kimi knew you just as well. he knew when you were pretending you weren’t upset. he knew when your smile was real and when you were forcing it. and he also knew that when you said “i’m fine,” you usually meant the complete opposite.

you were each other’s safe place.

—

you were sixteen when hugging him started feeling different.

he had just finished a karting race that hadn’t gone his way. kimi had always been hard on himself. way too hard. he could win and still find something he could’ve done better.

he climbed out of the kart with his jaw tight, helmet hitting the ground harder than necessary. everyone around him offered advice with things he could fix or things he could improve.

but you knew him better than that, you didn’t tell him what he did wrong but instead you simply opened your arms. “come here.”

he looked at you. “i’m fine.”

you raised an eyebrow. “liar.”

his lips twitched. “…maybe.”

you smiled. “come here, andrea.”

and that was all it took for him to walk over and immediately melt into you. his forehead rested against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around you like he had been holding himself together all day just waiting for this moment.

your hand moved slowly across his back.

“i hate disappointing people.”

your heart hurt hearing him say it because kimi was always trying to be enough for everyone.

you squeezed him gently. “you’ve never disappointed me.”

“…ever?”

“ever.”

he stayed quiet for a moment then he smiled softly against your hoodie. “..okay.”

when you said something, kimi believed you. always.

—

years passed.

karting became formula racing.

formula racing became formula one.

and suddenly the world knew kimi antonelli.

but they didn’t know about you. the girl sitting quietly in the mercedes garage. the girl who carried extra snacks because kimi always forgot to eat when he was nervous. the girl who kept spare phone chargers because somehow he was always at one percent battery. the girl who fixed his collar before interviews because “you look like you got dressed in the dark.”

“i did not.”

“kimi.”

“okay, maybe.”

the girl who squeezed his hand before qualifying. the girl who waited outside his driver room after difficult races.

the cameras noticed eventually but they assumed you were family and they weren’t completely wrong.

—

the first time kimi kissed you happened after years of pretending.

it was late at night, sitting on the roof of his apartment after another exhausting race weekend. the city lights surrounded you both and you were wrapped in his jacket because despite him always complaining about being cold he somehow always gave you his clothes.

“you’re thinking too loud,” you whispered.

he looked over. “am i?”

“mhm.”

he smiled. “that’s impossible.”

“not with you.”

he laughed quietly then he became serious. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

you smiled. “good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

something about that sentence stayed with him. he realised that he wasn’t looking at his best friend. he was looking at the person who had been there through every version of him. the person he searched for in every crowd.

“…can i do something?”

you looked at him. “depends.”

“i’ve wanted to for years.”

your heart skipped. “kimi…”

he leaned closer slowly, giving you every chance to move away but you didn’ and instead, you met him halfway.

the kiss was soft and a little awkward but perfect. your lips tasted like vanilla from the vanilla chapstick you used, a flavour that kimi would soon grow familiar with.

when you pulled away due to yourself being out of breath, you both just stared.

“finally.”

his eyebrows lifted. “finally?”

“i was starting to think i’d have to kiss you first.”

he covered his face. “please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“how long?”

“four years.”

“four years?”

you laughed. “yep”

“you’re joking.”

“i spent four years panicking.”

“you’re dramatic.”

“i’m a formula one driver.”

“that explains everything.”

he laughed, pulling you closer. “guess i’m your boyfriend now?”

“you’ve guessed correctly andrea”

—

dating barely changed anything between you and kimi because now you didn’t have to pretend.

you could hold his hand whenever you wanted, kiss his cheek before he left, curl into his side during movie nights and steal his hoodies without him pretending to be annoyed.

kimi became even more protective in a way that made you feel loved.

after difficult races, he always found you first. before the interviews or messages, he would walk straight past everyone until he found you and then he would quietly pull you into his arms. “five minutes.”

you would smile. “take ten.”

and he always took his time because with you, he didn’t have to be kimi antonelli, formula one driver.

he could just be andrea.

—

it started as a cough, nothing too bad, just enough that your chest hurt a little when you breathed too deeply.

you brushed it off at first because everyone got sick sometimes.

you’d had bad colds before, sleepless nights before, stressful weeks where your body simply felt exhausted so you assumed that it was normal and that you just needed rest.

so you slept earlier and drank a little more water. it didn’t work. so maybe a day away from everything?

but then came the fevers.

the kind that left you waking up in the middle of the night feeling drained, your body aching and your mind foggy.

and then came the exhaustion.

it was the kind where even small things felt harder than they should. things you used to do without thinking suddenly took effort. like walking upstairs became something you had to prepare yourself for. you would stop halfway, hand resting against the wall, quietly waiting for your breathing to settle before continuing. you assumed it was just a bad, stubborn cold. ypu couldnt dwell on it for too long however you had races to attend.

you had a boyfriend who was already carrying so much pressure.

you had a life that couldn’t just stop but you had this feeling. a gut feeling, that it was important to get this checked so you finally went to the doctor.

you expected them to tell you that you had a stubborn infection as you dressed up slowly. it was probably something that would go away with the right medicine and that you didn’t even need to come here at all.

you definetly weren’t expecting the change in their expression and the way their voice softened. they looked at your results before looking back at you. “…your lungs aren’t in good shape.”

your eyesbrows furrowed. “what does that mean?”

“we need more tests’ is all that they could say.

there more tests that followed, more scans and more appointments. more waiting rooms where you sat alone, staring at your phone and wondering how you were going to explain any of this. the excuses you had been giving kimi were starting to waver. he was getting worried.

all you knew was that the infection wasn’t behaving how it should. it had developed into pneumonia that wasn’t responding properly to the first rounds of treatment.

you needed close monitoring and care. you needed to tell someone, especially kimi. but when you thought about him, you remembered everything he already carried. the pressure, expectations he carried were way too high.

you remembered how he worried when you had a simple headache and how he stayed awake if you weren’t feeling well.

he was able to notice the smallest changes in your mood and suddenly the idea of telling him felt impossible.

because kimi loved deeply. and you knew exactly how much this would hurt him and strain him, affecting his performance.

you made a decision to not tell him, especially not now.

maybe you would when you got better so that you could look him in the eyes and tell him everything was okay.

you continued with the excuses to kimi

“just seeing a friend.”

“running errands.”

“family stuff.”

kimi believed you, mostly because he trusted you and because you had never given him a reason not to.

but he noticed things like when your texts became shorter because you were too tired to type or when you stopped stealing food from his plate because you didn’t have much of an appetite.

“you’re not stealing my fries.”

you looked up from your phone. “i’m tired.”

kimi frowned. “you?”

you smiled. “don’t sound so offended.”

“i’m concerned.”

you rolled your eyes. “your being dramatic.”

“i’m not dramatic.”

you raised an eyebrow. “kimi i’m okay.”

he noticed you also cancelling dinner because you were “tired.” and how your hugs changed. kimi knew your hugs by heart. lately they felt weaker and shorter like you were running out of energy.

one evening, after you had fallen quiet beside him, he gently reached for your hand.

“are you okay?”

you looked at him. you almost spilt everything but then you saw the worry already forming in his eyes. “of course.”

he didn’t look convinced. “…promise?”

you squeezed his hand and nodded.

something in his chest told him that you weren’t telling him everything.

—

one morning, he called, wanting to go to your favourite gelato place to cheer you up.

ring… nothing.

ring again.. nothing.

you never ignored him even when you were busy or sick or half asleep

no matter what you always answered.

so he tried again and it. straight to voicemail.

maybe you were asleep still? but it was 4pm, surely you weren’t. as. he spiralled into his thoughts his phone rang. it was your mum.

he answered. “hello?”

but the second he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“andrea…”

his stomach dropped. “…what happened?”

there was a pause before your mum shakily exhaled. “she’s in hospital.”

he barely remembered driving there. all he remembered was needing to find you because he should have known. he should have noticed. he could have been there. he rushed through hospital corridors, asking anyone who would listen where your room was.

his heart broke when he saw you because you looked nothing like the person who always took care of him. you looked so exhausted and fragile with oxygen tubing beneath your nose and an iv line in your hand.

the machines quietly beeping beside you. you knew he was there, you felt too ashamed look. your first instinct was still to comfort him. “hey.”

his eyes immediately filled. “don’t.”

you frowned softly. “don’t what?”

“don’t say ‘hey’ like this is okay.” he walked closer, sitting beside you so quickly the chair almost moved backwards and took your hand carefully.

“…how long?”

you looked away. “…a while.”

his voice softened. “how many?”

you swallowed. “a month.”

he closed his eyes. a month where you had been facing this alone

“…i’m sorry.”

his face broke. “you’re sorry?”

your eyes filled. “i didn’t want you to worry.”

“you think formula one matters more than you?”

you looked away. “kimi…”

“no.” his voice cracked. “look at me.”

“you are the one person i would stop everything for.”

your tears finally fell. “i didn’t want to distract you.”

he shook his head. “you could never distract me.”

he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. “please don’t ever do this alone again.”

you cried quietly. “okay.”

“promise.”

“…i promise.”

—

kimi barely left ypur side.

your mum had to practically force him to go back to the hotel and sleep but even then, he always came back early. sometimes you would wake up and he would already be sitting beside you.

“did you sleep?” you’d ask.

he’d shrug. “a little.”

“kimi.”

“okay, maybe not.”

you’d sigh. “you need to take care of yourself”

“but you first.”

he read books out loud when you were too tired to concentrate and he brushed your hair when you didn’t have the energy. he also rmembered to bring you little things from home so the room felt less unfamiliar. he made sure he held your hand through every appointment.

every time you woukd say sorry for being such a bother he would remind with a kiss. “stop saying sorry.”

“but”

“no.”

—

weeks later…

the doctors finally had some good news. for the first time in what felt like forever, kimi smiled too. the infection was clearing.

soon your oxygen came off and your appetite returned. the pink rosey colour slowly came back into your cheeks.

and then… you were allowed home.

obviously , recovery wasn’t quick. however kimi was there whenever he could to hype you up. he treated every small improvement like a victory.

“i can carry my own shopping.”

“i know.”

“…then why are you carrying it?”

he shrugged. “because i love you.”

you stared at him before chuckling “that’s not a valid argument.”

“works every time.”

—

one rainy afternoon, you both sat curled up on the sofa. your head rested against his chest beneath a huge blanket and his fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm.

you stared at him quietly.

“what?” he asked.

“nothing.”

“liar.”

you smiled. “i’m just thinking.”

“what?”

you laughed softly. “…i’m really lucky.”

kimi immediately looked down at you. “no.”

you frowned. “no?”

“i’m the lucky one.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

your eyes softened.

he kissed your forehead. “next time you’re hurting, let me carry some of it.”

you reached up and cupped his face. “only if you promise to let me carry yours too.”

“deal.”

you smiled. “deal.”

~~

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

only thought in his head

osc. piastri (81) x reader

after a long tiring day, oscar may not look like it but the only thing he wants is you

taglist (tw) : oscar piastri x reader, fem reader, smut, nipple play and marking (that’s it), oscar grabs ur ass

oscar comes through the paddock gates with his shoulders slumped and his eyes half lidded the way they get when the race has taken everything out of him. you see it in the slow drag of his feet and the way he barely manages a smile for the cameras. the mclaren jacket you wore to support your lover hangs loose in your arms now that the morning fog and cold has disappeared and your legs feel stiff from the long day but you keep yourself as close as you can to him until he finishes media.

it’s finally 5pm and you both are waiting outside until the car finally pulls up at the hotel. he’s obviously not in a mood, although his placing wasn’t bad.

he’s just tired and you know that so you look out the window the whole drive occasionally looking back to see his left leg bouncing up and down.

he’s anxious and tired. guess you’ll need to take care for him extra, not that you didn’t want to ofcourse. he just always seemed to unconsciously push everyone away and refuse to accept help.

—

he leans against the elevator wall with a quiet sigh and you gain the courage to reach for his hand. once the door to your room clicks shut you turn to him “you need a shower baby.”

he shakes his head once like the thought of moving is too much but his fingers tighten around yours anyway. you tug the mclaren jacket off your own shoulders and let it drop then step out of your jeans before you reach for the hem of his shirt. he watches you with tired eyes that still darken when your hands brush his skin.

you strip him slowly piece by piece until both of you stand bare under the soft hotel lights. you stare at him lovingly as the water warms.

his chest is a beautiful work of art, one you wish you could spend all day looking at it. his hair is a slight mess from the amount of times he’s run his hands through it and his helmet. his eyes are tired and drained yet the soft faint smile uou catch while he stares at you tell you that he simply just wants your comfort.

the shower runs hot and steamy when you pull him in with you. water slides over his chest and he lets out the first low groan when your palms press flat against him. his mouth finds yours in a slow needy kiss that tastes like exhaustion and want all at once. he likes the taste of the remaining lipgloss on you, tastes like chocolate. his tongue slides lazy and deep while his hands settle at your waist and pull you closer under the spray.

he breaks the kiss only to trail his lips along your jaw then lower until his mouth closes over one of your nipples. his tongue circles and flicks while his fingers mirror the motion on the other side rolling and pinching just enough to make you arch. you answer by sinking your teeth into the curve of his shoulder then sucking hard enough to leave a mark that will show tomorrow. another groan rumbles out of him deep and rough and it vibrates against your skin. “y/n…”

you mark him again just above his collarbone biting and soothing with your tongue while his hands keep working your nipples slow and deliberate. the water pours over both of you but neither of you rushes. the kisses turn open mouthed and messy between every new bite or touch. his hips press forward needy but he keeps the pace unhurried letting every groan spill out when you suck another bruise into his chest. your fingers trace the marks you have made and he shudders pressing his forehead to yours while the steam curls around you both and the world outside the shower stays far away.

oscar's hands stay on your nipples rolling them between his fingers with that slow pressure that makes your breath catch every time. he switches sides with his mouth sucking one into warmth while his thumb circles the other drawing out soft sounds from you that mix with the water hitting the tiles. your teeth find his chest again biting down just above his heart and sucking until the skin blooms red under your lips as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

he groans low and long the sound vibrating through his body into yours

his hips rock forward pressing his hardness against your thigh in a needy grind that never speeds up.

you mark him again on the other side biting and licking the spot until he tilts his head back against the shower wall another groan spilling out thick and rough. his fingers keep working your nipples pinching just enough to send sparks down your spine while you kiss up his neck and take his mouth again. the kiss turns deeper tongues sliding slow and wet exploring like you have all the time in the world. the warm water runs between your bodies but you stay pressed close his chest against yours as he lets you bite another mark into his shoulder, sucking hard enough to make him shudder.

oscar's groans come steady now every time your teeth graze his skin or your tongue soothes the bruise. he pulls you tighter one hand still teasing your nipple while the other slides down to cup your ass holding you steady as he rocks against you. you answer by leaving another bite on his collarbone then another lower on his chest marking him in places only you will see later when you both head to bed.

the kisses keep coming between each mark open and hungry your lips parting for his tongue again and again. neither of you pushes for more than this slow needy rhythm his tired body waking up under your mouth and hands while the steam wraps around you both and the race feels far away in oscar’s mind.

the only thought in his head is you.

~~

I really love your fanfics! Thank you for your work!

It's totally fine if you’re not comfortable with it, sorry for bothering you!

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

your anchor

ki. antonelli x reader

you never expected that your tennis friend, kimi, was actually an f1 driver let alone become your supportive and loving boyfriend.

taglist (tw) : tennis, pda, friends to lovers troupe, kimi antonelli x fem!reader, reader can speak italian,

the first time kimi saw you, you were yelling at yourself in italian.

“no, no, no,” you groaned, bouncing the tennis ball against the clay court before catching it again. “again.”

you hadn’t noticed the teenage boy waiting patiently by the gate, tennis racquet hanging loosely in one hand. he was supposed to have the court after you, but instead of interrupting, he simply watched as you practised the same serve over and over.

the next one landed perfectly.

“finally,” you muttered, pumping a fist.

a quiet clap echoed behind you.

you turned, cheeks warming slightly.

“sorry,” he smiled sheepishly. “i’ve been waiting for my booking… but that serve was really good.”

you laughed, slinging your racquet bag over your shoulder. “how long have you been standing there?”

“…long enough.”

“you could’ve told me.”

“you looked focus.”

there was something awkwardly charming about him. you took a good look at him, his curls were messy from the italian heat, an oversized hoodie despite the weather, and the kindest smile you’d ever seen.

“i’m y/n.” you let out

“kimi.”

he glanced towards the court before looking back at you. “…do you maybe… want to hit for a bit? only if you’re not busy.”

you blinked. “you want to play with me?”

he shrugged. “i mean… i’ve always wanted to see if i could return a professional’s serve.”

you laughed. “you’re going to regret saying that.”

—

he regretted it after the fourth ace flew past him.

“that’s unfair,” kimi complained dramatically, resting his racquet against his shoulder.

“you asked.”

“i thought i’d at least touch the ball.”

“you did.”

“once.”

“twice.”

“that second one doesn’t count.”

you couldn’t stop smiling. he wasn’t anywhere near professional level, but he was surprisingly good. he was quick on his feet, competitive enough to make every point entertaining, and somehow managed to make losing look funny.

by the time the sun began to set over the courts, you’d completely forgotten you’d only just met him.

“same time next week?” he asked casually, trying very hard to sound like he didn’t care about the answer.

you pretended to think. “…depends.”

his face fell.

“on whether you give me your number.”

he dropped his racket, took out his phone and let you dial yours in.

“i’ll be here.” you smiled.

—

what were to be a week turned into once a week. once a week soon became became twice.

sometimes you’d play or sometimes you’d simply sit on the benches with cold bottles of water, talking about everything except your careers.

he told you he raced cars.

you assumed it was karting.

you told him tennis had been your entire life since you were five.

he listened intently to every story about every injury, every loss and every comeback.

he somehow remembered all of it.

—

it wasn’t until months later that you walked into the club café and nearly dropped your coffee.

the television above the counter showed a formula 2 podium. standing on the top step was.. “…kimi?”

your coach looked over. “you know antonelli?”

“that’s… that’s the kimi i play tennis with.”

your coach nearly choked on his espresso. “the kimi antonelli?”

“…there’s another one?”

—

when you confronted him the following weekend, he looked impossibly guilty.

“you race formula 1?”

“…yeah.”

“you couldn’t have mentioned that?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “i mentioned i did racing and i liked that you didn’t know.”

you stared at him for a few seconds before exhaling. “…that’s actually fair.”

he smiled. “you’re not mad?”

“i’m slightly offended i found out from a television. i’m suprised that i never noticed.. perhaps i’ll start watching f1.”

“you’ll support me right?.” he grinned

“depends.”

—

the friendship between you and kimi began to grow. he’d send you messages before every tournament.

good luck. don’t overthink.

you would heart his message and keep his words in mind the entire match.

and before every race you’d text him.

don’t crash. wouldnt want my favourite mercedes driver hurt xx

his reply were always immediate.

i’ll try.

—

the first grand prix you attended felt surreal. kimi had personally invited you to watch him, how sweet!

standing in the mercedes garage, headphones resting around your neck, you watched mechanics rush around while cameras pointed everywhere. you were sorta clueless as you had just began watching f1.

kimi spotted you almost instantly and his entire face lit up. forgetting there were photographers everywhere, he jogged straight over and wrapped you in the biggest hug. “you’re actually here.”

“how could i say no to you?”

he pulled away just enough to grin at you. “now i’m definitely getting points.”

“don’t blame me if you don’t.”

“too late.” he’d say and youd nudge him slightly in response.

—

a month later, he flew across europe just to watch one of your matches. he arrived wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his curls, hoping nobody would notice him.

it lasted approximately seven minutes.

the cameras found him almost immediately.

the broadcast kept cutting back to him clapping after every point you won while he would just turn away, desperately trying to hide his face. he made sure he celebrated all of them like he’d just won a race himself.

after you won the match, exhausted and still catching your breath, your eyes searched the stands automatically.

and there he was already standing, smiling so proudly it made your chest ache while he joined the crowd in applause.

—

the media figured it out eventually. i mean, they always did.

the headlines appeared overnight. “formula one’s rising star dating tennis’ golden girl.”

instead your camera rolls were full of blurry photos of kimi asleep on flights, you asleep in airport lounges, terrible selfies after a match together and a video of him insisting he could beat you at tennis one day.

VIDEO CLIP :

“i got two points today.”

“because i let you.”

“that still counts.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“absolutely not.”

“you’re a sore winner.”

“you’re just sore.”

“emotionally.”

—

however being together wasn’t always easy. there were weeks where your schedules meant facetime became your only date. there were times where he’d call from a hotel balcony overlooking a race circuit and other times you’d answer from the players’ lounge at a tournament.

“how was practice?”

“good.”

“nah ah your lying.”

“…my shoulder hurts.”

he frowned immediately. “did you tell your physio?”

“…”

“y/n.”

“…maybe.”

he sighed. “please look after yourself.”

you smiled softly. “only if you promise the same.”

“…that’s harder.”

“kimi.”

“…okay.”

—

you both understood eachother in a way that nobody else really could. you both experienced pressure, bad matches/races and constant travelling and the feeling that you both were never good enough.

after difficult races, you’d remind him that one result didn’t erase his talent and after difficult matches, he’d remind you exactly the same thing.

you had became each other’s safe place.

—

years after meeting on that little clay court in italy, you found yourselves back there during the off-season.

the club hadn’t changed much.

ofcourse, the benches were older and nets had been replaced but it still felt exactly the same.

kimi bounced a tennis ball before serving and it landed nowhere near the service box.

you burst into laughter. “i thought you would beat me one day.”

he pointed his racquet at you. “just you wait.”

“it’s been 2 years already. i can wait.”

“best of three?”

“you’re way too confident.”

“i’ve been practising.”

you raised an eyebrow. “without me?”

“…maybe.”

“ah the pain!” you joke

he laughed, walking over until he was standing right in front of you. “does this mean you’re refusing to play because you are afraid of me?”

“…i didn’t say that.”

“good.” he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “because i’m definitely winning today.”

you smiled up at him. “you’ve been saying that since the day we met.”

“…one day it’ll be true.”

“keep dreaming, andrea.”

he grinned. “i don’t have to.”

he gently took your hand, intertwining your fingers before leading you back onto the court where everything had started.

you stared at the italian boy infront of you: his curls were slightly messy, he somehow was beating the italian heat with a hoodie on and a toothy grin was visible on his face. it was just like how you had first met him except you had no idea this boy would become your safe place.

~~

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

part of routine

jo. bellingham x reader

after another tiring day of work, all you want to do is be with jobe.

taglist (tw) : nsfw (pretty mild), jobe bellingham x reader, fem reader

the ache behind your eyes had settled in hours ago. work had dragged on far longer than it should’ve, every customer somehow needing just one more thing, every email marked urgent, every minute feeling heavier than the last. by the time you finally clocked out, all you wanted was somewhere quiet.

without really thinking, your fingers found jobe’s contact.

you: u home?

the reply came before you’d even reached your car.

jobe💞💞: yeah. door’s unlocked.

you were happy he didn’t ask any questions. no why? no everything okay? he just knew.

twenty minutes later, you were standing outside his flat, shoulders slumped, still in your work clothes. you barely had enough energy to knock before remembering what he’d texted.

when you let yourself in yousoftly called his name. “jobe?”

“in the kitchen.”

you followed his voice, finding him leaning against the counter with two mugs already waiting. he glanced up, and the second he saw your face, his usual grin softened. “…long day?”

you answered by dropping your bag onto the floor with a dull thud before walking straight over to him and without saying a word, you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

his hand came up to rub slow circles against your back as he rested his chin lightly on top of your head.

“yes” you sighed into his hoodie

“figured.”

after a moment, he nudged one of the mugs towards you.

“tea?”

you hummed.

“then food?”

another hum.

he smiled to himself. “and then you can steal my hoodie and pretend you’re not basically living here already.”

a tiny laugh escaped you. the first genuine one you’d managed all day. it always felt a little easier when you ended up here.

nsfw down below 👇

you find yourself on top of jobe on the couch. your legs are over his abd your mouth is finding his without a word because that is how it goes now.

his hands slide under your shirt the second your lips meet, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts like he has been thinking about it all day. you sigh into him and he takes it, tongue slow and deep, hips already shifting so you can feel how hard he is beneath you. every night ends like this. sometimes at his place, sometimes at yours, never with any real plan except the way you both keep reaching.

you grind down once, slow, and he groans, fingers tightening on your waist. "fuck," he mutters against your mouth, then kisses you again like he needs to shut himself up. your work shirt comes off, all the stress and bad energy leaving you. his follows next. his teeth then catch your bottom lip while his palm cups you through your underwear. you are both breathing like you ran here

he rolls you under him on the couch, knee between your thighs, mouth moving down your neck, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark you will see tomorrow. your fingers push into his hair, tugging, and he answers by rocking against you, the thick line of him pressing right where you are aching. you arch up, chasing it, and he meets you, slow drags that make your head tip back and your thighs shake around his hips.

neither of you says the word. you just keep going, hands everywhere, mouths open and wet, until you are both close enough that it feels like the next breath might tip you over. he stops just short, forehead against yours, both of you panting, his fingers still stroking lazy circles between your legs like he cannot quite let go.

"stay," he says, voice rough.

you nod. you would leave in the morning anyway and follow the same routine. but right now, you were going to let jobe take care of you.

~~

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

a beautiful mess

ki. antonelli x reader

you and kimi ATTEMPT to make a cake for george’s birthday. key word : attempt. while doing so, you record the process which definitely was not a disaster

taglist (tw) : cooking, burning food, established relationship, party, camera, kimi antonelli x reader, fem reader

clip 1 1:08 seconds

“happy birthday, george.”

kimi held his phone out in front of the both of you, grinning far too confidently for someone who had never baked anything more complicated than toast.

“today,” he announced dramatically, “we’re making george a birthday cake.”

you smiled sweetly at the camera. “and because we love him…”

kimi nodded. “…we’re doing it ourselves.”

there was a pause.

“…without help.” he added.

and then another pause.

“…which was probably our first mistake.” you sigh.

—

clip 2 1:54 seconds

the second clip started off perfectly. the kitchen was spotless and every ingredient had been neatly lined up across the counter, bowls, spoons, ingredients and aprons were on. kimi zoomed in on each of them before panning tge camera to you

“look how organised we are,” you proudly said, gesturing around.

kimi zoomed the camera in. “we shall make the best cake ever!.”

—

clip 3 2:10 seconds

the camera panned slowly across the kitchen. kimi snickered into the phone and crouched to make sure he’d be able to highlight the current state of the kitchen which included

flour covered almost every surface.

the egg that had somehow find its way to out ceiling

and your only measuring cup had disappeared completely.

you stood frozen, holding an empty bag of sugar. “…kimi.”

“yeah?”

“where did the sugar go?”

he looked down. “…”

“…”

he slowly lifted his foot and turned the camera down with him.

the entire bag was split underneath his shoe. “…i found it.”

“okay,” you said confidently, reading the recipe.

“it says sift the flour.”

kimi frowned.

“what does sift mean?”

“…”

“…i actually don’t know.”

—

clip 4 1:29 seconds

the next clip was simply the two of you standing over your phones searching. you showed the questions in your search bar to the camera before click go. the questions were like :

“what does sifting flour actually do?”

“how to sift flour like a professional.”

—

clip 5 2:37 seconds

you and kimi look into the camera with a triumphant grin on your faces. “we just figured out how to do it. you could call us professionals come see!”

kimi tipped the flour into the sift, wayching as a big fountain of flour piled on top.

kimi, being overly excited, immediately shook it far too aggressively causing a massive white cloud exploded into the air.

both of you disappeared into the mess and all that could be heard was coughing.

through the dust came your tiny voice. “…i can’t see.”

“i think i inhaled half the powder.”

“this looks so wrong..” you mumble

—

clip 6 00:18 seconds

“whose idea was it to wear black?” kimi asks, looking at the concoction on your hoodie

you looked down at your hoodie. “…yours.”

“oh …right.”

—

clip 7 1:48 seconds

the camera switched to a time-lapse of you and kimi restarting, more ready and organised. the kitchen was still flour bombed

you were mixing the ingredients while kimi zoomed in at the right parts and narrated.

then you switched, now kimi was cracking the two eggs.

except instead of cracking one into the bowl

plop!

the entire egg landed inside with the shell and all.

“kimi!” you exclaimed

he blinked, looked at the camera and then looked back at the bowl. “…protein.”

you laughed so hard you nearly dropped the whisk.

—

clip 7 1:03 seconds

“taste test?” kimi dipped his finger into the batter

you gasped dramatically. “what about the raw eggs!”

“…worth it.” he grinned

“…

“…it’s actually really good.”

“what was that crunch?” you stared. “…you just ate shell.”

“it um…adds texture?”

—

clip 8 1:24 seconds

the clip shows you and kimi staring intently at eachother before your eyebrows furrow. halfway through, you had realised something.

“kimi…”

“yeah?”

“…we forgot the butter.”

“…”

“…”

“we’ve already mixed everything.”

“do we…start again?”

you both looked at the bowl and then looked at each other.

then simultaneously looked at the camera.

“no.”

—

clip 9 1:47 seconds

kimi opens the oven door, a rush of heat enveloping your face before inserting the tray. the cake had finally went into the oven.

you both high-fived.

“we’re actually doing really well.”

“i know right! we should celebrate with ice cream and a movie!” you happily say

—

clip 10 3:20 seconds

the smoke alarm screamed, causing you and kimi to rush to the living room out of your bedroom. the almost finished pint of ice cream lay forgotten and the movie had now reached a music que. a classical piece began to play

“WHY IS THERE SMOKE?”

“OPEN THE OVEN!”

“I AM!”

“NO YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!”

while you and kimi went to enjoy some time with eachother, you had unknowingly left the camera on. the camera was capturing all of this. the footage became incredibly blurry as the smoke enveloped the room. in frame you could spot kimi running around, trying to find gloves to take out the cake while you were frantically waved a tea towel underneath the smoke detector.

somehwere in the background the soft piano played from the movie. it could be faintly heard in the footage, mixed with a repeated chorus of “i’m sorry” from kimi.

—

clip 11 1:09 seconds

the kitchen was now spotless, something you and kimi spent the rest of your afternoon doing. there were no signs that you had even baked (more like attempted to bake) here.

you carefully lifted the cake out from the fridge. it now being cooled down.

“…”

“…”

it was crooked to say the least. one side had risen beautifully while the other looked like it had completely given up.

kimi tilted his head. “it’s…modern art.”

“right.. it symbolises how george will always step right up no matter the hardships.” you smile nervously into the camera.

“it’s like an emotional support cake.”

—

clip 12 00:56 seconds

“icing fixes everything,” you insisted while kimi nodded into the camera.

it did not. not even a bit. the icing was far too runny causing it to slowly slid down the sides before pooling onto the plate.

you both silently watched it happen.

“…”

“…”

kimi whispered, “it’s escaping.”

“and we cant even do anything”

“maybe some decorations will make it look better?”

—

clip 13 00:53 seconds

decorating somehow went even worse. you attempted to pipe the words: happy birthday george.

but instead it read,

hap bir geor.

kimi just stated “…close enough.”

he also decided to add candles to distract from it. far too many candles.

“how old are you making him?” you questioned

“…i lost count.”

—

final clip 14 00:41 seconds

the cake sat proudly in the middle of the counter. you could easily tell that it was slightly burnt, slightly lopsided andcovered in far too many decorations.

some of the icing was hanging off one side and your pretty sure a few candles fell in battle but you smiled anyway. “i actually think it’s kind of cute.”

kimi wrapped an arm around your shoulders.“it’s got it’s own uniqueness .”

“just like george.”

“exactly.”

—

later that evening, you and kimi dressed up nicely for the event before heading out into the car. you placed tge cake nicely in your lap to ensure nothing bad woukd happen to your creation. you and kimi were excited to show this to george.

-

the lights dimmed as george’s birthday party carried on around the room.

everyone had just finished dinner when kimi suddenly stood up. “before the cake…we have something to show.” he plugged his phone into the television.

george narrowed his eyes immediately. “…what are you doing?”

“nothing.” he grinned.

you failed spectacularly at hiding your smile before hiding your face in your hands.

then the video began and the room erupted into laughter almost instantly.

max was laughing loudly when the flour exploded everywhere

lando had completely lost it at your symbolisation.

and when the smoke alarm started blaring through the speakers george laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.he then buried his face in his hands.

“…i cannot believe you filmed all of this.”

“we wanted to document the journey,” you defended.

“it was amazing.” carmen smiled

“i’ve learned never to let either of you near my kitchen.” george stated

then the final clip played.

kimi and you proudly presenting the disastrous cake. “happy birthday, george!”

the room applauded loudly.

you carefully carried the real cake over, a 2 tiered chocolate cake with a big photo of george on the top. you had ordered this in advance incase you messed up.

george looked between it and the screen before bursting into another laugh. “it’s certainly improved.”

“…you actually expect me to bring out monstrous creation?”

george shrugged.

“technically…it’s still in the car.” kimi smirked.

“whether you want to eat that or not that’s between you and your stomach.” you began, “but for now atleast eat the cake we bought you.”

george smiled, shaking his head as he pulled the two of you into a hug. “it’s definitely the worst cake anyone’s ever made me.”

you groaned.

“there’s a compliment coming, right?”

he smiled.“…and probably the most thoughtful birthday gift i’ve ever gotten.”

kimi bumped your shoulder with his. “worth setting off the smoke alarm.”

you laughed. “come on, i’ll serve you.”

the cake might not have won any baking awards or even be eaten at all but the memories definitely stole the show.

~~

photo is from pinterest and isnt mine

pain

jo. bellingham x reader

period cramps are the worst! good thing jobes here to care for you and make it feel better

taglist (tw) : periods, cramps, jobe bellingham x reader, established relationship, pain

you let out a quiet groan, curling tighter beneath the duvet as another wave of pain spread across your lower stomach. you’d already tried taking painkillers, drinking water, stretching. basically everything people swore by yet none of it was working.

the heating pad sat abandoned on your bedside table as it barely helped anymore and jobe noticed almost immediately. he wandered into the bedroom after getting dressed for training, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before stopping in the doorway. “…bad?”

you only nodded, face buried in your pillow.

he walked over without another word and sat on the edge of the bed. “the heater not helping?”

you shook your head. “doesn’t really do anything.”

he frowned. “thought it usually helped.”

“not today.”

he hated hearing that. he gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’ll stay for a bit.”

you reached for his sleeve instinctively. “i don’t wanna be alone.”

and his heart practically melted. “you won’t be.” he simply climbed into bed beside you, pulling you carefully against his chest. his hand then rested lightly on your stomach, a comforting prescence.

whenever another bad cramp hit, he’d quietly rub slow circles with his thumb.

“it’s okay just breathe…” he’d soothe

you breathed in and then out, listening to his words.

he matched every breath until the pain eased enough for you to relax again.

later, after he’d finished training, he came straight home with your favourite snacks tucked under one arm and a takeaway bag in the other.

“i wasn’t sure what you’d feel like eating,” he admitted.

you looked inside. the bag contained your favourite soup, fresh bread, fruit and, of course, chocolate.

“you bought a lot ”

“you deserve a lot.”

you couldn’t help smiling and he smiled back immediately. “there it is.”

“what?”

“your smile.”

the rest of the evening was calm and slow.

he put on one of your comfort shows, tucked the blanket around both of you, and let you lean however you wanted:

sometimes youd lean your head on his chest, sometimes you lay across his lap and sometimes another cramp would hit so suddenly you’d squeeze his hand without thinking. and he never complained, he’d just squeeze yours back.

hours later, when another particularly painful cramp made tears well in your eyes, you whispered,

“i’m sorry.”

he looked genuinely confused. “for what?”

“i feel like i’m ruining your day.”

his expression softened instantly. “hey.” he lifted your chin gently. “you’re not ruining anything.”

“but-”

“if you’re hurting, i want to be here.” he brushed away the tear with his thumb. “i can’t make the pain disappear.” his voice was quiet. “but i can make sure you don’t go through it alone.”

your lip wobbled. “…that’s unfair.”

he laughed softly. “what is?”

“you’re too sweet.”

“nah.” he kissed your forehead again. “just love you.”

you hid your face in his hoodie, arms wrapping around his waist.

he held you a little tighter. “next month,” he mumbled into your hair, “i’m clearing my schedule.”

you let out a small laugh. “that’s dramatic.”

“don’t care.” another kiss landed on the top of your head. “my girl’s got enough to deal with already.”

~~

could you please do a jobe fic where maybe you both are like in secondary school, and it's both of your frst relationship, and he's super sweet. and when it's your first time, jobe is a bit flustered and clueless cuz it's his first time?

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

first feelings

jo. bellingham x reader

you and jobe experience your first kiss and your first time !

taglist (tw) : fluff , Nsfw (will be specified when), jobe bellingham x reader, smut, first time, jobe and reader are 18!

NSFW : nipple play, p in v, lemme know if missed any, protected sex

a.n: i did a first kiss and a first time incase you wanted the other vice versa! this is my first time writing smut i’m so sorry if this is bad

first kiss :

it had only been three weeks since he’d nervously asked if you’d be his girlfriend after football training. he’d spent almost an hour practising what he was going to say in front of the bathroom mirror before completely forgetting every word the second he’d seen you.

instead of the nice paragraph he opted to say he’d ended up blurting,

“do you maybe wanna… um… be my girlfriend? unless you don’t. that’s fine too.”

you’d laughed (not at him) because he’d looked so adorably terrified and said yes before he’d even finished rambling.

ever since then, everything felt new.

you held hands in the corridors, walked each other to class, shared chips at lunch because he always claimed yours tasted better.

and his friends never let him hear the end of it.

“oi, romeo,” one of them called as you both crossed the playground.

jobe rolled his eyes. “shut up..”

you squeezed his hand. “their not the ones in a relationship are they? just ignore it.”

he looked down at your intertwined fingers, smiling to himself. “your right.”

after school, the two of you wandered to the park like you always did. there wasn’t much to do besides sit on the swings and talk about absolutely everything. like whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

“absolutely not,” jobe said dramatically.

“you’re wrong.”

“i’m objectively correct.”

“you’re lucky you’re cute.”

he froze.“…you think i’m cute?”

you stared at him.“jobe.”

“what?”

“we’re literally dating.”

“yeah, but… hearing you say it…” his ears turned pink again.

you couldn’t help chuckling. “you’re impossible.”

he smiled sheepishly before reaching into his backpack. “i, um… got you something.”

nothing expensive, just a little keyring shaped like a football with your initial painted on it. “saw it while jude was at a shop and asked him to buy it.”

you looked at it for a long moment before wrapping your arms around him. his whole body stiffened in surprise before he hugged you back just as tightly.

“thank you that’s very sweet of you,” you whispered.

he rested his chin lightly against your head. “i wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

“i love anything from you.”

the words made something warm settle in his chest.

after a few moments you pulled away, still smiling. “can i kiss you?”

his eyes widened slightly. “you’re asking me?”

“of course. consent is crucial.” you joked.

he nodded so quickly it made you laugh. “yeah… yeah, i’d really like that.”

you leaned in slowly, giving him every chance to change his mind. but instead, he met you halfway.

it was brief, soft, and a little clumsy when your noses bumped and you both pulled away at exactly the same time.

“…i missed,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“only a little.”

“that was embarrassing.”

“it was adorable.”

he looked at you hopefully.

“can i have another go?”

you smiled with your teeth. “i was hoping you’d ask.”

this time, neither of you laughed until afterwards and even then, you spent the walk home teasing each other about whose aim had actually been worse.

it felt perfectly right.

first time : NSFW warning !!

the walk to jobe's house is quiet, buzzing with charged silence. it’s the kind where you're both so aware of each other that words feel unnecessary. the late afternoon sun casts long shadows on the pavement. your hands brush every few steps, making your heart do a little flip in your chest.

his house is just around the corner. as he fumbles with the keys, his movements seem a bit clumsy, which is unlike him on the pitch. he pushes the door open, holding it for you.

"it's, uh, empty," he says, his voice a little raspy. "jude's got training, mum and dad are out."

you just nod, kicking off your shoes by the door and follow him up the stairs, both of your backpacks slung over one of his shoulders. in his bedroom, he drops them onto the floor with a soft thud. it's exactly as you‘ve seen before: clean, but lived-in. football posters on the wall, a neatly made bed, a pair of trainers tucked under his desk. he turns to face you, and the nervous energy is rolling off him in waves.

"so..." he starts, then stops, scratching the back of his neck. his eyes are wide, flicking between yours and the floor.

"so," you echo, your own hands twisting in the hem of your school shirt. you're not sure who moves first. maybe it's mutual. he closes the small distance between you, his hands coming up to rest gently on your waist. yours find their way to his shoulders. he's solid, warm.

he leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. you don’t and instead meet him halfway. the kiss is soft, tentative at first. it's all gentle pressure and the faint taste of mint from his gum. it deepens naturally, a slow, sweet exploration that makes your knees feel weak. one of his hands moves from your waist to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling softly in your hair.

when you pull back, you're both breathing a little heavier. he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he whispers, his breath warm on your face.

"me too," you admit, your voice barely a whisper itself.

he opens his eyes, and the look in them makes your breath catch. it's so open, so vulnerable. full of an adoration that feels almost too big for the room.

"can i...?" he starts, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "can i take this off?"

you nod, your throat too tight to speak. he lifts it over your head slowly, his knuckles brushing against your sides. the cool air on your skin makes you shiver, but it's the way he looks at you that truly makes you tremble. his gaze is soft, reverent. it's not hungry or demanding, but full of a quiet awe.

"wow," he breathes, his eyes tracing over you. "you're... you're so beautiful. honestly."

he reaches out, but doesn't touch you yet, just lets his hand hover over your stomach. "can i?" he asks again.

"please," you manage to say.

his touch is feather-light at first, just the tips of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. he maps out the curve of your waist, the dip of your navel. it feels like he's trying to memorize you. he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone, then another, a trail of warmth leading downwards. he guides you backwards until your legs hit the edge of his bed, and you sit down. he kneels in front of you, looking up at you with those big, earnest eyes.

"you're perfect," he says, and it sounds less like a line and more like a simple, heartfelt statement of fact. he reaches behind you, his fingers fumbling for a moment with the clasp of your bra. when it finally gives way, he slides the straps down your arms, letting it fall away.

he just looks for a second, his gaze so intense it makes your chest flush. he leans in, pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast, then another, getting closer to the peak. when his mouth finally closes over your nipple, a soft gasp escapes your lips. he's gentle, exploring with his tongue, listening to the sounds you make. his other hand comes up to cup your other breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive bud, learning what makes you arch your back.

he looks up at you, checking in, making sure this is okay. the question in his eyes is clear. you answer by tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. he gets a little bolder then, sucking lightly, alternating between the two, his touch growing more confident as he feels you respond. it's not rushed. it's patient, thorough. he's learning your body, and he's clearly enjoying the lesson.

he pulls back after a while, his lips slightly swollen, his pupils blown wide. he stands up, pulling you with him. he reaches for the button of your jeans, his eyes still locked on yours.

"is this okay?" he whispers.

you nod, helping him undo them, pushing them down along with your underwear. you stand before him, completely bare, and the way he looks at you hasn't changed. it's still that same soft, adoring gaze.

"come here," he says, his voice husky. he guides you to lie down on the bed, and then he's shucking off his own clothes, a little awkwardly, but quickly and places a condom on. he settles over you, propping himself up on his elbows so he's not crushing you. he's all lean muscle and warm skin.

"are you sure?" he asks one last time, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"i'm sure, jobe. i'm so sure."

he reaches down, lining himself up. he pushes in slowly, and there's a slight stretch, a moment of discomfort that makes you wince. he freezes immediately.

"are you okay?"

"no, it's okay," you breathe out. "just... stay still for a second."

he does, pressing kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips. "tell me when," he murmurs.

you take a breath, nodding. he starts to move then, slowly, carefully, watching your face for any sign of pain. the discomfort fades, replaced by a slow, building warmth. he finds a rhythm, a gentle rocking motion that has you sighing his name. he's quiet, his breathing labored, the only sounds in the room are the soft slap of skin and the little gasps and sighs you're both making.

he shifts slightly, changing the angle, and a jolt of pure pleasure shoots through you. you arch up against him, a moan tearing from your throat.

"yeah? right there?" he asks, a little breathless, a flicker of pride in his eyes.

you can only nod, biting your lip. he does it again, and again, hitting that spot inside you with each slow, deliberate thrust. he's a fast learner. he drops his head to bury his face in your neck, his hips moving a little faster now, more sure of himself. you cant help but dig your nails deeper into his shoulders, the crescent marks painting his back.

"you feel... incredible," he pants against your skin. "so good. perfect."

his words are as much of a turn-on as the way he's moving inside you. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your belly, a white-hot ball of heat.

"jobe," you gasp, biting his neck in pleasure. "don't stop."

"i won't," he promises, his voice strained. "i won't." he brings one hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. that's all it takes. the coil snaps, and your orgasm washes over you in intense waves, your body trembling beneath him. he groans as you clench around him, his hips stuttering before he finds his own release, a deep, shuddering moan as he buries himself deep inside you.

he collapses on top of you for a moment, then quickly rolls off, discards the condom and pulls you into his arms. you're both sweaty and breathless, a tangle of limbs. he presses a soft, messy kiss to your temple, holding you tight.

he's quiet for a long moment, just stroking your hair. then he says, so quietly you almost miss it, "i'm completely in love with you, you know that?"

and in the quiet of his room, with jude and his parents still gone, you feel it too. "i know," you whisper back. "i'm in love with you too."

his whole body relaxes against yours at your words, a soft sigh escaping him. he tightens his arm around you, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your hairline. the admission hangs in the air between you, no longer a secret, but a shared truth. it's scary and exhilarating all at once.

"yeah?" he whispers, like he still can't quite believe it.

"yeah," you confirm, your cheek pressed against his warm chest. you can feel the steady, calming rhythm of his heartbeat. "i have been for a while."

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light filtering through his window. they're full of that same gentle adoration from before, but now it's mixed with something else. a profound, heart-stopping happiness.

"me too," he says, a genuine, brilliant smile spreading across his face. it crinkles the corners of his eyes and you feel your own lips lift in response. "so much it feels like i might explode sometimes."

you giggle, a slightly breathy sound. "i know the feeling."

he leans in and kisses you again, a slow, deep kiss. more possessive than exploration as if claiming.

~~

master list - football

all the link to football player fanfics i’ve written will be here !!

🫐 = has smut

🌌 = has fluff

JUDE :

wonderwall - jude bellingham x reader 🌌

his reason to come back - jude bellingham x reader🌌

inlove with you - jude bellingham x reader 🌌

no need to worry - jude bellingham x reader 🌌🫐

JOBE :

his lucky charm - jobe bellingham x reader🌌

marry me - jobe bellingham x reader🌌

favourite date - jobe bellingham x reader🌌

drunk - jobe bellingham x reader🌌

first feelings - jobe bellingham x reader 🌌🫐

pain - jobe bellingham x reader 🌌

part of routine - jobe bellingham x reader 🫐

proud of you - jobe bellingham x reader🌌

LAMINE :

I just read one of your kimi antonelli fics and I was AMAZING!?! like your so so so good at writing.

so I was wondering if you could write a kimi fic were reader is a streamer and like kimi walks in or does something and the chat goes crazy.

if you can't that totally fine you probably get tons of these😭

please,and thank you if you do do this!! xoxo

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

exposed!

ki. antonelli x reader

during a stream , kimi walks in and misses you. you give a quick excuse to ur fans and thought your camera and mic was turned off. you start to show affection until kimi realises itd still turned on. you’ve been exposed!

taglist (tw) : kimi antonelli x reader, affection viewed by public (stream), pet names

a.n : AHHH STOP ILYY. and please request as much as you’d like! your helping me more than you think!

you leaned back in your chair with an exaggerated sigh, rubbing your eyes as chat immediately started spamming messages telling you to queue again. ypu had just finished a ranked match.

“absolutely not,” you laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “you’ve all watched me suffer for three hours. i’m taking a five-minute break.”

the chat protested immediately when the word ‘break’ was mentioned :

hairytwinkle29 : one more game pls!!!

ilovekiwiyn : don’t leave us so early 😢

ynsbiggestfan : noob type behaviour it’s only been 3 hours

notlaoiwvq : it’s just 5 mins we can wait.. 😣

a soft knock echoed through your room and before you could answer, the door cracked open. kimi peeked his head around it, his hair messy from the wind outside and a hoodie hanging loosely over his shoulders. the second your eyes met his, the tiredness on both of your faces disappeared.

“hi,” he smiled.

you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back and waved, mouthing a soft “hi.”

he stayed standing in the doorway for a second.

“am i allowed in?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re asking?”

“trying something new, thought you’d appreciate it.”

your laugh escaped from your mouth before you could stop it.

and your loving chat obviously noticed it.

ilikef1 : whats got you so jolly

kiwiynismyfav : who’s at the door 👀

joebartglazer : hold onnnnn is she talking to someone???

“give me one sec, guys,” you said, trying not to grin too much. “i’ll be right back.”

you reached over to keyboard, and clicked what you were convinced were the buttons to mute your microphone and turn your camera off in a rush to hug kimi then you turned your chair away from your desk.

“okay,” you said, opening your arms dramatically. “come here.”

kimi didn’t need to be told twice. he crossed the room in a few quick steps before wrapping his arms around you, letting out a content little sigh as soon as he hugged you. “missed you.”

you smiled into his hoodie and nuzzled your head deeper. “you literally saw me this morning.”

“that was agesss ago.”

“it was six hours.”

“exactly! 6 is a lot!”

you laughed quietly, your arms finding their way around his neck.

“you’re clingy.”

“only with you.”

he stayed there for another moment before pulling back just enough to look at you. “have you eaten?”

“…no.”

he gave you a look.

“don’t.”

“what?”

“don’t give me that look.”

“what look?”

“the disappointed one.”

“i’m not disappointed!”

“…”

“…i’m a little upset you prioritised streaming over a full belly.”

you groaned dramatically. “i was busy.”

“mm.”

“don’t ‘mm’ me.”

he smiled.“come on.” he gently took your hands, tugging you towards him. “sit.”

you looked at him for a second before giving in, straddling yourself comfortably onto his lap while he dropped into your gaming chair.

your arms slipped around his neck once again while his rested comfortably around your waist, pulling you a little closer until your forehead rested against his.

a comfortable silence filled the room.

you absentmindedly played with the curls at the back of his neck while he traced slow circles against your back.

“long stream?” he asked softly.

“three hours.”

“how’d it go?”

“my teammates carried.”

“i’m sure they didn’t.”

“they definitely did.”

he smiled. “is the chat still bullying you?”

“every five minutes.. oh yn this oh yn that.” you sigh

“want me to tell them to stop?”

you looked at him with a grin. “and what exactly would you say?”

he thought for a second.“…please?”

you burst into laughter.“wow that will surely work”

“i’m very persuasive.”

“obviously.”

he smiled to himself, watching you laugh. he’d missed these moments where he would just be sitting with you.

no cameras or interviews or race weekends. just you.

he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear before pressing the gentlest kiss against your neck.

“you look tired.”

“i am.”

“after your stream let’s order food.”

“deal.” you smiled, leaning into him a little more.

“you’re the best.”

“i know.”

“…don’t get too cocky now.”

he laughed quietly, nibbling on your neck while his eyes wandered past your shoulder and towards your monitor.

his smile faded. “…love?”

you hummed

“…did you actually turn your stream off?”

“yeah.”

“…are you sure?

“…yes?”

“…look.”

confused, you twisted around in his lap.

your stomach dropped. your camera was still on. your microphone was still live. and your chat was absolutely flying.

you blinked a few times, your brain processing and let out a small “…oh.”

kimi looked between you and the monitor. “…that’s… not ideal.”

you slowly scrolled back through the messages.

iambatman : WHO IS THAT???

notlaoiwvq: WAIT WHATT

ilikef1: IS THAT KIMI ANTONELLI??

ynispeak: NO WAY WHAT AM I WATCHING

kiwiynisawesome: HOLD ON

subscribetokiwiyn: THAT’S ACTUALLY KIMI

THE F1 DRIVER????

ynispeak: YOU’RE DATING KIMI????

ilikecats12345: EXCUSE ME?????

woofwoof: SINCE WHEN????

snoopyislife: HOW WAS THIS KEPT SECRET

spiderman: I THOUGHT SHE WAS SINGLE

snoopyislife: AIN’T NO WAY OUR STREAMER IS DATING AN F1 DRIVER

meowmeow: I’M ACTUALLY LOSING MY MIND

you covered your face with both hands. “…i’m going to disappear.”

kimi couldn’t help laughing. “it’ll be okay.”

“no it won’t.”

“they seem… excited.”

“excited?” you pointed helplessly at the monitor. “they’re collectively having heart attacks.”

he looked over your shoulder.

“…fair.”

another message caught both of your eyes.

ilikef1: KIMI IF YOU CAN READ THIS BLINK TWICE

he stared into the camera before blinking twice.

then the chat exploded.

cherries4summa: HE DID IT

ilikef1: HE’S ACTUALLY READING CHAT

ynsbiggestfan: THIS IS THE CRAZIEST STREAM EVER

notlaoiwvq: I CAN’T BREATHE

ilikef1: SOMEONE CLIP THIS

you let out the most dramatic groan imaginable before hiding your face in his shoulder. “don’t encourage them.”

he was smiling too much to answer. you think he was enjoying this way too much for his own good.

“you’re enjoying this.”

“…maybe a little.”

you lightly nudged his chest. “well you shouldn’t be. we are gonna be everywhere.”

he wrapped his arms around you again, holding you close. “sorry.”

“…you’re not sorry.”

“not even slightly.”

despite yourself, you started laughing and he smiled when he heard it. “there she is.”

you looked up at him. “this is your fault.”

“how?”

“you came in.”

“you told me to come here.”

“…”

“…you also sat on my lap.”

“…stop reminding me!!”

he laughed softly before pressing another quick kiss to your forehead. “so it’s your fault haha”

your cheeks warmed instantly. “…you’re so annoying.”

“and?”

“…”

“…and i love you anyway.”

his smile softened. “i know.”

he reached over with one hand and finally clicked end stream. you both stared at the now-black monitor and then your phone began to buzz. once. and then twice. and now it was 99+

you slowly looked at the screen before turning it towards him. your name and kimis was already trending.

kimi winced. “…maybe we should order food first…”

you laughed so hard you nearly fell off his lap.

“yeah,” you managed between giggles. “i think we’re going to need it.”

~~

pic is from pinterest and isnt mine!

his reason to come back

ju. bellingham x reader

jude cant help but fall for the caring , nurturing and loving you. you don’t make him feel like he’s a soccer player but instead make him feel like the human being he is.

taglist (tw) : jude bellingham x reader, fem reader, children, fluff, pda (holding hands)

the first thing jude noticed was you.

not the flowers at the front or the handwritten sign hanging above the entrance to the community centre, nor the kids sprinting around the football pitch behind it.

it was you.

you were kneeling in front of a little girl, carefully tying the lace of her tiny football boot while she excitedly told you a story with wildly exaggerated hand gestures. you listened as if it were the most important conversation in the world, laughing softly before gently patting her shoulder and sending her back onto the pitch.

“that’s the volunteer i was telling you about,” the organiser smiled beside jude. “she practically runs this place.”

jude nodded absentmindedly in response.

he was only supposed to be stopping by for an hour. take photos, sign shirts, kick a ball around with the children, then head back to training. but instead, his eyes kept finding you.

every time one child fell over, you were already helping them up or when someone looked nervous, you were beside them before anyone else noticed and somehow, despite juggling nearly thirty energetic children, you never looked overwhelmed.

after the football session ended, the kids crowded around jude for photos before gradually being collected by their parents.

you finally let out a long sigh, collapsing onto one of the benches with a bottle of water.

“you alright?” jude asked, walking over.

you looked up, startled for half a second before smiling.“barely.”

he laughed. “they’ve got more energy than premier league midfielders.”

“don’t let them hear you say that. they’ll take it as a challenge.”

the two of you laughed together.

it was surprisingly easy between you two. yhere wasn’t any awkwardness. no forced conversation. it was just…comfortable.

you talked while helping pack away cones and footballs, somehow ending up debating whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

“absolutely not,” jude said.

“you’re wrong.”

“i’m not.”

“you are.”

“i play football professionally.”

“which has absolutely nothing to do with pizza.”

“…fair point.”

you grinned triumphantly.

before leaving, one of the little boys tugged on jude’s sleeve.“are you coming back?”

jude hesitated. his schedule was packed with matches, training and travelling. before he could answer, you crouched beside the boy.

“he’s a busy man.”

the little boy’s face fell.

“…but,” you continued, glancing up at jude, “sometimes busy people can still make time.”

the challenge in your eyes made him smile.

“yeah,” jude nodded. “i’ll come back.”

the little boy cheered before running off.

“well,” you said, folding your arms. “guess you’re committed now.”

“guess i am.”

the next week, he came back and then the week after that.

eventually the children stopped treating him like a famous footballer and started treating him like…jude.

someone who got absolutely destroyed in races.

someone who couldn’t win at dodgeball to save his life.

someone who always ended up covered in paint during arts and crafts because one of the kids thought he looked “too clean.”

you laughed so hard that day you nearly cried.

“don’t.” jude pointed a paint-covered finger at you.“don’t even start.”

“there is blue paint in your hair.”

“i know.”

“and green on your nose.”

“i know.”

“and-“ before you could finish, he dabbed yellow paint across your cheek.

you gasped. “…you did not.”

“i absolutely did.”

five minutes later both of you were running around the room while the children screamed with laughter, armed with paintbrushes like they were swords. by the end of the afternoon, neither of you had a single clean patch left on your clothes.

“worth it,” jude said, looking at the mess.

“absolutely.”

the organiser smiled and snapped a photo without either of you noticing.

weeks later, after one of jude’s matches, that same framed photo appeared on the shelf in his house. the one with both of you laughing, covered in paint and surrounded by children. it quickly became his favourite picture. and not because he’d scored a winning goal that weekend or because it reminded him of football but because it reminded him that life felt lighter whenever you were around.

one rainy afternoon, after helping clean up the centre, the two of you sat beneath the small awning outside, listening to the rain drum against the roof.

“you know,” you murmured, “the kids think you’re coming because they love football.”

jude looked over.“they’re wrong?”

you smiled.“they think you keep coming back for them.”

he stayed quiet for a moment.“…they’re only half right.”

your eyebrows lifted.

“i do love seeing them.” he glanced at you, smiling softly. “but you’re the reason i kept coming back.”

it was quiet for a bit, the rain comfortable taking charge. then you laughed quietly, looking down to hide the blush spreading across your face. “good.”

“good?”

“because…” you admitted, “i might’ve been hoping you’d say that.”

jude’s smile only grew. “really?”

“yeah.”

and without thinking, he reached over and intertwined his fingers with yours. your hand fit perfectly and neither of you let go.

somewhere inside the community centre, one of the children peeked through the window before loudly shouting:

“i told you they liked each other!”

groans erupted from the rest of the kids, followed by a chorus of cheers.

you buried your face in your free hand while jude laughed so hard he could barely breathe.

“we’re never living this down,” you mumbled.

“definetly not.” he squeezed your hand gently. “i don’t really mind, though.”

you smiled. “me neither.”

~~

pic from pinterest and isnt mine!

wonderwall

your so happy england beat mexico in wc, the sensitive you can stop crying of joy and jude consoles you.

taglist ( tw ) : established relationship, fem!reader, jude bellingham x reader, crying (from reader), pet names (baby etc), sensitive (crybaby in this case) reader, ooc? (idk jude personally but this doesn’t give ‘jude’ vibes)

a.n. WE are all happy that england beat mexico. 2 goals in 2 minutes my goat. england will win wc 🥹 hopefully norway vs england goes well . also wonderwall by oasis is so flipping peak. “maybeeeeee ypur gonna be the one that saves meeeee”

a sea of white shirts jump up from their seats, players crashing into one another as relieved laughter and triumphant shouts echoed around the stadium. jude disappeared beneath a pile of teammates before emerging again with the widest grin you’d ever seen, throwing an arm around one of them as they made their way towards the travelling england supporters.

the fans were already bouncing.

scarves spun above thousands of heads as the players lined up in front of them, applauding every corner of the stand.

then the opening chords of wonderwall rolled around the stadium.

almost instantly, the england fans took over.

~

~

~

“there are many things that i would like to say to you but don’t know how”

the players laughed, some draping their arms over each other’s shoulders as they swayed in front of the supporters. a few sang every word at the top of their lungs, others simply stood there, soaking it all in. jude threw his head back, singing along with a smile so bright it was impossible to look away from him.

“cause maybe, your gonna be the one that saves me.”

your vision blurred, mouthing the unofficial anthem as you watched jude lovingly.

you’d held it together through ninety minutes, through every chance, the 2 goals of jude in the first two minutes and every agonising minute of stoppage time but watching jude sing with the supporters, medal hanging around his neck, completely lost in the moment he’d worked his whole life for was your breaking point.

“and after all.”

a tear slipped down your cheek.

“oh no…” you whispered to yourself, laughing weakly, not now.

another tear followed. then another.

within seconds, your shoulders were shaking as happy sobs escaped you, your hand covering your mouth as you watched him smile towards the england fans.

“your my wonderwall.”

he looked so happy, a big toothy grin practically stuck on his face like every sacrifice, every injury, every hour spent away from home had been worth it.

then, as if he could feel you watching him, jude’s eyes lifted towards the family section and found you immediately, already crying. even from the other side of the barrier, he could tell.

your eyes were glassy, your nose had already gone pink, and you were frantically trying to wipe away tears before anyone noticed with a big happy smile.

he laughed to himself, nudging kane beside him before subtly pointing towards you.

“she’s crying already?” kane laughed.

jude only smiled, unable to take his eyes off you. “ ‘course she is.”’ not an ounce of embarrassment in his voice. only affection, pure and unmistakable affection. “my little crybaby.”

he stayed with the team long enough to applaud the supporters, clapping above his head before tapping the england badge over his heart. he blew a kiss towards the fans, took a few photos with the squad and accepted yet another crushing hug from one of the coaches.

but every few seconds, he looked back at you.

you were still standing there, still crying. still smiling.

he couldn’t get to you fast enough, obviously having to go through the media.

but the moment there was an opening, he jogged towards the barrier.

fans reached out for him as he passed, shouting his name, asking for high fives, congratulating him, but he apologised with a sheepish smile and pointed towards you instead. “sorry, guys, gotta see my girl.”

your heart melted before he’d even reached you. you’d always loved watching him interact with fans. but reading his mouth say that, like as though getting to you was the most important thing in the world, it made another tear roll down your cheek.

you were so happy that england beat mexico.

jude reached the barrier and immediately opened his arms. “come here, baby.”

you didn’t even think, practically stumbling into him.

he caught you with a laugh, wrapping both arms tightly around your waist before pulling you flush against him. the force of the hug almost knocked the air from your lungs. not that you minded. (getting crushed by jude is the dream)

he always hugged you like he hadn’t seen you in months. he wanted to make sure you were really there. to make sure that you were his love only.

you buried your face into his neck, clutching the back of his shirt as another sob escaped.

he just held you.

one hand rubbed slow, comforting circles across your back while the other cradled the back of your head.

“hey…” he murmured, pressing a kiss against your hair. “we won.”

you nodded against him. “i know.”

another kiss. “we’re through.”

another nod. “i know.”

he smiled, feeling your shoulders shake.

“then why’s my baby crying?”

you let out the tiniest laugh between sniffles.“because…” you paused, trying to steady your breathing. “because i’m so happy.” your voice cracking on the last word.

jude’s heart practically burst. he leaned back just enough to look at you.

your mascara had smudged. your eyelashes were clumped together from tears. your cheeks were bright pink and somehow he’d never thought you’d looked more beautiful.

“hi,” he said softly.

you sniffled. “hi.”

“there’s my favourite face.”

“i’m literally crying.”

“i know.” he smiled, brushing a tear away with his thumb.“still my favourite.”

you looked at him for a second before your lip wobbled all over again.

he saw it instantly.

“no…”

you nodded.

“don’t.”

“i’m trying.”

“baby…”

“i really am. you just did so well!” two more tears escaping as you spoke.

jude laughed so warmly that you couldn’t help laughing too.“there they are.”

you groaned, hiding your face back against his shoulder.“stop looking at me.”

“can’t.”

“why?”

“‘cause you’re cute.”

“i’m a mess.”

“you’re my mess. a cute mess too.” he kissed your temple, then your forehead and then the tip of your nose just to hear you giggle.

“see?” he whispered. “there’s my smile.”

you couldn’t help it, being around him always made everything feel lighter. like everything didn’t matter. just him and yoi.

“you looked so happy,” you admitted quietly.

he frowned just slightly.“yeah?”

“when you were singing. it was so cute.”

you glanced back towards the england supporters, who were somehow still belting out wonderwall even though the song had long ended.

“you looked like… i don’t know.” you searched for the words. “like little jude.”

his expression softened completely. he stared at you for a moment and then reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.“that’s because i was thinking about everyone who got me here.”

your eyes searched his, onlt finding admiration.

“my family,”

“my teammates,”

“and you.”

you blinked.“me?”

he smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “especially you.”

you looked at him.“baby…”

“you’ve been there after every loss.” his thumb traced lazy circles over your cheek. “every injury.” he kissed your forehead.“every bad headline.” another kiss landed on your temple “every time i’ve been doubting myself.” he rested his forehead against yours. “you’ve never doubted me.”

you couldn’t stop the tears this time and they spilled over before you even realised. “aww jude don’t say things like that when you know i cry easily..”

jude laughed quietly, shaking his head. “there’s my beautiful crybaby.”

you gave his chest the weakest little shove. “it’s your fault.”

“i know.”

“you keep saying things.”

“good.” he wrapped you back up in his arms before you could complain anymore. “because i’ve got a lifetime’s worth left to tell you.”

you melted into him all over again, your cheek pressed against his chest as his medal rested cool against your arm.

around you, the stadium was still alive.

the fans cheered until their voices cracked, children waved england flags from their parents’ shoulders, his teammates danced together in front of the supporters and camera flashes lit up the pitch yet somehow, wrapped safely in jude’s arms, it all faded into the background.

he absentmindedly played with your hair, running his fingers through it while swaying the two of you ever so slightly.

it was something he always did when you cried. he never rushed or teased you. he just let you feel.

after a minute, he tipped your chin up again. “all done?”

you looked at him. “…no.”

he laughed. “thought so.”

“i’ve got more.”

“how many?”

you considered it seriously. “…at least another ten minutes.”

he grinned. “perfect.”

“why?”

he kissed your forehead once more.“’cause that means i get to hold you for another ten minutes.”

and (if possible) you cried even harder.

~~