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0alanasworld0 · 1 year

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Fasting & Friendlies (Hakim Ziyech x reader)

Request 1: Hi angel ramadan moubarak! Can you write something about ziyech during ramadan? It’s ur first ramadan together and he’s away since he’s in morocco, you can add or change whatever you like. Thank you sm 👼🏼

Request 2: Just loving Hakim and seeing that sparkle in his eyes😔 like spoiling him and always giving him little kisses maybe even appreciation posts on instagram

warnings: none

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late!” Hakim yells from downstairs. You appear at the top of the stairs with your luggage and a scowl on your face.

“You had me rushing around and we’ve got three hours until takeoff.” you huff, carefully dragging your stuff down the stairs.

“Two hours and forty five minutes, actually!” he corrects and you give him a look that sets him straight. He holds his hands up in surrender before taking your things and carrying them to the car with you following behind him.

You’re feeling a little less grumpy now but you still refuse to look at him when he opens the car door for you. He does that adorable little bow that you would normally laugh at but you haven’t finished being mad at him just yet so you avoid his gaze and drop into the car seat with another huff. He sighs before getting into the driver’s seat and taking a look at you, a warm hand on your thigh.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I just can’t have anything go wrong, you know? I’m just sooooooo desperate to show these off to Abde and Bilal!” he jokes, pointing at his shoes, and you can’t hold your smile back anymore.

“I’m still sleep deprived.” you cross your arms, turning your head away dramatically and he chuckles. You furrow your eyebrows when you hear the rustling of plastic packaging and you slowly turn your head to face him. You finally let a full smile break free with what you see. Your absolute favourite crisps hidden in the glove box. You wrap him in a tight hug before grabbing the bag from his hands and scarfing down the much needed meal for your suhoor.

“You’re almost forgiven.” you mumble between munching as he starts the car.

“Almost?!” he exclaims, lightly slapping your thigh with an exasperated shake of his head and you chuckle. You could never stay mad at him. And at the end of the day, he was right. Both of you have been planning for this trip to the very T. All that time off and away from the club served two purposes. 1. To give him the luxury of spending more time with you and 2. To only strengthen his drive to play. Sure, game time was important but he was ready anyway. Everytime he thought about the fixture, his stomach erupted into butterflies. He was finally gonna get to see them all again and the buildup to the day of the flight felt so painfully slow but it was finally here. He was going home.

Now that the initial tired slump has worn off, you can’t help it. You’re both buzzing with energy now. The closest you had to home was talking about it and now you finally got to spend 2 weeks with the people you both considered family and in the place that connected you all. And with the way Hakim described it, Ramadan in Morocco was going to be a magical experience and you couldn’t wait to share Hakim’s safe space with him.

“You need to try the Tagine, the Bisara and… uh… just everything! And the air is so refreshing, it's so colourful and bright- not like here with all the grey- and the people are always so nice, always just giving out freebies!” he excitedly rambles, squeezing your thigh gently. His own thigh is bobbing up and down at the red light and it makes you so happy because it takes a calm person like him a lot to show their excitement.

“Hakim, my love: I think the freebies are because you’re Morocco’s 4th top goal-scorer of all time. I don’t think they’re doing that regularly!” you remind and he hums.

“I didn’t think about that.” he admits with a shrug, picking up where he left off.

When you reach the airport, concern bubbles as you see 2 random men waving, rather crazily, and seemingly towards you. Only when you squint, you realise that they’re familiar faces and not some hooligans out to irritate Hakim. Well it is just that but familiar hooligans at least. The men are sprinting towards you and Hakim as you take your time to get out of the car.

“YES YES YES NOW YOU HAVE TO ASK FOR THE DESSERTS!” Nayef yells, grabbing Hakim by the shoulders and bringing him into a bear hug. You watch on, completely confused by the situation unfolding and still not completely there. Hakim sighs with a huff, turning to you.

“Surprise! Nayef and Ilyas are joining us!” he winces. Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee are still clearly very excited. You decide not to pry further so with a shake of your head, you get to the car to grab your luggage.

After praying in your separate areas, you all return together to sit at one of the cafes in the airport. Not that any of you were going to eat but courtesy of the staff being Chelsea supporters - much to Nayef and Ilyas’ dismay - you were allowed to sit and rest in one of the comfortable booths while you waited. You can’t help but be completely drained already so you rest your head on Hakim’s shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and you interlink your hand with his, sighing out in relief and closing your eyes. You choose to ignore the gagging noises that the other 2 are making but you know that Hakim is probably giving them his signature death glare. No middle fingers or swearing but he had that killer glare that would do the trick anyway and the noises subsequently stop. You can’t help but smile at the situation unfolding. Oh this was going to be a good 2 weeks, you just knew it.

“Okay everyone give me your passports.” Hakim instructs and you can’t help but giggle. Airport dad Hakim was finally here. You supposed that the fasting delayed it a little bit. The boys both furrow their brows, looking to you for an explanation as hakim looks through his backpack, bringing out the folders.

“He doesn’t trust you to take care of your stuff.” you put it simply. They both look to Hakim in offence.

“I’m very responsible, thank you very much!” Nayef exclaims and Hakim gives them a side eye (bombas- no).

“Look me in the eyes and say that.” Hakim challenges, putting the pair under his intense gaze. The lack of response is all he needs.

“All right cmon, GIVE!” he repeats, a little more sternly now and the boys relent their documents with a sigh. After checking the dates on the passports and having a go at Ilyas for not renewing his (it was going to expire in 2024), you all make your way to check in but not before Hakim checks the flight information for the umpteenth time since you entered the airport. You all look like little children trailing behind him as he navigates. In typical Hakim fashion you are an hour too early so you all drop down onto the uncomfortable airport benches.

When the time finally does come and you all haul your luggage onto the conveyor belt. Hakim’s brow is furrowed in concern as your luggage goes through. And just as he suspected, you’ve overpacked.

“I knew this would happen.” he pinches your cheek before opening the side compartment of his own suitcase to bring out an empty backpack. He hands it to you with a kiss to your cheek and he ends the matter there, helping you to offload some of your stuff into it. The boys look on in disbelief.

“Where’s the lecture for her?! How’s this fair?!” Ilyas points out frantically.

“Overpacking can be solved in a few minutes. An expired passport cannot.” Hakim explains but not without slapping the back of Ilyas’ head first.

After recollecting the passports and rechecking the gates, Hakim takes to studying the planes while the rest of you find yourselves engrossed in your word hunt challenges.

“Does your loving husband always do this?” Nayef mumbles absentmindedly before shutting his phone off, his face in his hands as he loses yet another game. You pat his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him after your victory.

“Oh yeah, gets the job done though so no complaints from me!” you say with a shrug, looking over at Hakim with a smile on your face.

“The airport dad pose really does it for you?! Really?!” he teases and you pinch his arm.

Only as you’re about to walk onto the plane does Hakim return the precious passports, giving a stern glare to all of you and keeping track of where you keep them.

He finally seems to let go of all of his tension when you’ve all taken your seats and he sits up with his phone.

“Oh I’m going to trash all of you at word hunt.” you all groan in response because Hakim was good at many things: one was being organised and the other was puzzles.

After about 4 hours of a fairly peaceful flight, many pretty photos of clouds, and even more photos of you and Hakim asleep together being spammed in the group chat, the sight of the landing ground getting closer and closer was an exciting one. For the first time today, all of you are buzzing with energy as the flight draws to a close.

Once you reach the hotel, you and hakim now separate from the boys as you all make your way to your rooms. He hugs you before dragging you to fall onto the bed with him and he groans in relief.

“Can we just stay here please?” he mumbles.

“And go to bed without irritating Romain?” you joke and he immediately shoots up.

“I almost forgot!” he exclaims, energy returning and he’s now hauling you up and back onto your feet. You don't have much time to think as he’s dragging you out of the door.

When you reach the lobby, you’re guided to where the rest of the team are waiting and you hoped you would remember the smile on Hakim’s face forever. All of his best friends, all of the people he considered family, gathered in the lounge happily talking to each other face-to-face for the first time in months. The time apart felt hellish, for some more than others, but whenever they got to speak to each other, it was like they’d never been apart.

There’s Yassine and Romain talking with Bilal and Benjamin, probably another wise old man lecture because you can see the latter two dozing off every once in a while. Sofyan, Abde appear to be preoccupied with an arm-wrestling contest with Ounahi and Dari officiating. Abde appears to be on the brink of tears while Sofyan looks cool as ever. Hamdallah is knocked out completely on one of the couches and you can see Anass and Boufal prepare to sneak up on him. It’s chaos but a very comforting one. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss these guys too. You see Noussair waving at the pair of you and push Hakim on.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Hakim remarks and Nous simply rolls his eyes, a bright smile quickly making its way onto his face.

“Oh please you missed me more than anyone here and you know it!” he brings you both into a hug before you all start talking again. You knew that Hakim was extremely fond of Nous in particular so this catch-up in particular meant a lot to him. Your eyes focus on Hakim. He looks to be having the time of his life: he’s rarely an animated person but he becomes something else with his fellow Ajax graduate. It’s something that you don’t think you’ll ever tire of seeing.

Thankfully he’s kept occupied long enough for everyone else to slip to the dining hall without him noticing. Sure his birthday WAS yesterday and he had a wonderful time spending it with you but it was only a day late so why not share it with the people he loved most?

When the 3 of you finally make your way to the dining hall, you’re met with a litany of confetti cannon blasts and the sight of the huge birthday cake. The cheers from the team put a dopey smile on his face as the joys of the return fully settle in. all of his favourite people gathered in one place. All smiling and energetic as ever. He couldn’t ask for more.

The cake is quickly shared out along with the rest of the meal and everyone is quick to dig in. Ounahi, the resident bully of the group, is of course the first to speak when the chatter slowly starts creeping up again.

“The cake is great and all but I think we can all agree that the best way to celebrate this momentous occasion is with some entertainment! Ben, you’re up!” he announces and the poor guy reluctantly moves to stand on his chair with a microphone already in his hand. It was time for his group initiation.

“Some things never change.” Hakim whispers and you laugh quietly, eager and waiting for the entertainment to begin. That brightness in his eyes really was just spectacular. Over here, he was just freed of a stress that he simply couldn't get rid of over in London. he was happier than he could ever he describe when he spent time with you but the burdens of the club always still lingered in the back of his mind, he was never truly free of the stress. it weighed him down and only now do you realise that.

It hurts to think about but you're glad he gets some time away from it where he genuinely isn't being weighed down. He's focussed on the performance in front of him and you're certain that Benjamin's predicament is hilarious, you can't tear your eyes off Hakim. everything else is drowned out as you stare at him. He hasn't stopped smiling since he arrived, you realise. you truly wished that things could just stay like this forever but of course it wasn't to be that way so you're thankful that he gets these next couple of weeks. Momentarily, you forget that everyone else is there and you catch him off guard by hugging his side. He looks down at where you've nestled your head with a confused smile. Nonetheless, he welcomes the affection and snakes an arm around your waist to give a comforting squeeze. You lift your head from the crook of his neck and peck his cheek. You can see the redness start to appear so you go for another. And another. And another.

"Get a room, guys!" Sofyan whispers, nudging Hakim and he shrugs before leaving a kiss at your temple. The rest of the group has noticed too but become preoccupied as the next newbie is ordered to take the stage. You see no reason to leave your spot so you stay there, with your arms around him and his around you.

He zones out for a second as he processes things. Sure, you were an affectionate person, especially with him but in a group setting? Not that he had a problem with it by any means. this was basically his family so he knew he had nothing to worry about but still. He wonders what's sparked it.

The next few days in the build-up to the match felt like a fever dream. You had expected Hakim and the boys to be sore and completely shattered by the end of every day. So imagine your surprise when Hakim sends you a photo of the mural in the prison. That day he comes home absolutely beaming as he recalls how kindly he was treated and how much fun he had. What's strange is that he IS sore and he HAS spent hours upon hours training but by some miracle, they’ve managed to fit their field-trips into the schedule too. The next day is also bizarre but you can’t say that you’re too surprised when Hakim facetimes you while going to town on a colouring sheet. You can see Yassine and Anass in the background doing what they were actually supposed to be doing and you furrow your eyes as you pay closer attention to the background noise.

“Hakim, I might be wrong here but I think the kiddies are looking for you!” you laugh but he’s too engrossed with the task at hand to even look up at you.

“They can just come over here and join me with this!” he suggests, still refusing to look up. You can’t help but laugh harder as Romain comes up behind him to slap him on the head.

“You’re the bane of my existence, wallah. Can we get back to the task at hand?!” the captain scolds as Hakim winces.

“Oh hi, kiddo! Duty calls! ” Romain adds quickly, before ending the call and you can already imagine Hakim’s heedless protests at the action. You knew that one little setback very likely took nothing away from the fact that Hakim was having the time of his life. This was home. Not the grey abyss of England. He perhaps held Netherlands more fondly but THIS was home. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He sends you countless videos of them having a blast training: messing around and causing chaos, laughing at each other. This trip was turning out to be everything you both expected it to be and so much more.

The morning of the 22nd is a fuzzy one. You’d been waiting for it for ages for the special night but the early hours still have you in a haze with Hakim shaking you as gently as he can to wake you.

“My love, we need to eat!” he reminds, voice gentle on your ears which isn’t doing you much good in terms of waking you. His next attempt is more successful as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you so that you’re sitting up. You rub your eyes tiredly and he kisses your cheek, holding your face in his hands as he looks at you. You looked so cute, so tired, so grumpy. He loved it.

“Ramadan Mubarak, gorgeous! We have to have our suhoor remember?” you hum, vaguely understanding what he was saying which was honestly an improvement. Even with slight coherence, he’s still the one dragging you around and making sure you’re steady on your feet as you get to the lounge.

Some of the players are already there, gathered on the floor with the various dishes being shared around. You rest your head on Hakim’s shoulder as he gets both of your plates ready. The meal is fairly quiet, thankfully. The chatter is fairly minimal with everyone in the rooms at different levels of exhaustion. It's a peaceful moment and although you’re not fully there, you can still appreciate the fact that you were with people you had grown to love in such a short period of time.

You spend the day trying to distract yourself with some gift-shopping for when you went back home while Hakim was focussing on training for the match. There was very little time for the pair of you to talk in between so you were itching to see him by the time iftar rolled around. It was your first Ramadan together and although you were glad to be spending it in Morocco, there was a part of you that wanted to spend a little bit more time with him but you knew that it would be worth it in a few days.

You practically jump onto him when he walks through the door and you capture him in the tightest hug you can manage before dragging him to sit next to you. The rest of the team is soon to follow, too tired to make any jokes as Hakim kisses your temple. Everyone is clutching onto their dates and pouring large glasses of water as you await the Adhaan. Another benefit of Morocco was that you weren’t all having to constantly check your phones, you just had to wait for the beautiful sound to echo through the streets. And eventually, you do hear it. There’s a collective sigh of relief before you all dig into the dates, almond filled so that none of you had to deal with gnawing around the seeds. With the renewed energy, the chatter steadily increases in volume as the boys excitedly talk about the events that transpired during training. Hakim throws an arm around your shoulder as he continues the conversation. You may have been a little upset about the lack of time spent with him earlier during the day but moments like this where you truly felt like a family reminded you just how worthwhile the time apart was. Again, that look in his eyes was priceless. A sparkle that had become pretty rare over in London.

He falls onto the bed when the pair of you reach the hotel room and you’re soon to follow, shuffling under the covers and towards his arms.

“How are you feeling?” you ask quietly, wondering if he had already dozed off yet.

“Exhausted and excited all at once, love. It’s very confusing.” you chuckle together before he starts again.

“I know it seems far-fetched but I really think we could do this, you know?” he confesses. Everything was right. They were training harder than ever, praying, fasting. Things just felt right. He had every reason to be hopeful.

“Not far-fetched at all, my love. Before you know it, you’ll have another top 10 team on their knees.” you assert before releasing a huge yawn. He smiles, realising that you both most definitely need the sleep. The hand drawing shapes on your back is enough to send him into a deep slumber fairly quickly and you're soon to follow, dipping your head down to kiss his cheek before sleeping off the events of the day.

The 24th and 25th are stressful, stressful days. Every player giving it their absolute all in training, tensely going over the tactics, the analysis, and they just know they can’t let this match go to waste. It’s a chance to prove that their world cup run was no fluke. They’re here for real and they’re hungry for victory. This was their time to show it.

The tension doesn’t relieve by the time iftar rolls around either. Unlike the first 2 days, the silence isn’t broken even after everyone has dug in. The boys have heaps for energy but the idea of expending it now wasn’t one they wanted to act upon. The stress in the room is choking as everyone gets their fill. Only one thing on their minds. They’re quick to leave as well so they can pray together, Hakim pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before making his way out and you return back to your room to get ready to leave for the stadium.

The match is the first time you see him since the iftar, much to your dismay but you knew that he was where he needed to be. Surrounded by all the right people that made matches like this that much more magical so you felt a sense of peace in your heart.

The crowd was electric, some of the best you have ever seen. Colourful smoke bombs, streamers and giant sparklers ignited the atmosphere and perfectly reflected the feelings of the crowd. There are the charismatic Brazilians who were seasoned pros in all things football. As much as England proclaimed themselves to be the home of football, for most it was Brazil. It was a legacy they carried with pride and strived to preserve. But you and everyone in the stadium knew better than to count your husband’s team out. Morocco, a team that broke down a glass ceiling that had been imposed on non-European teams from the very start. It wasn’t going to be an easy fight by any means but you had faith. You knew exactly what they were capable of. And in the most blessed month of all times.

You smile when you see Hakim close his eyes to listen to the anthem. In truth, even without knowing Darija, he had spent a very long time learning the anthem but the feeling of the crowd, and such an energetic and passionate one was something that energised him in a way that nothing else could. You could feel the sound of the stadium quite literally move through you.

You feel your heart in your throat as the match begins, it just meant too much. Everyone had too much to prove. But you have to remind yourself that you have faith. They’d done it three times before with an extensive injury list haunting them last time. Now, with the entire team injury-free, there was no reason they couldn’t achieve the same greatness again. And you just had to keep reminding yourself of the fact.

You’re proven correct in your faith and you can’t help but cheer when you see Hakim immediately ease past the Brazilian defences with Ounahi at the helm to assist him. The speed of the passes was difficult to comprehend and you find yourself struggling to keep up. If you blinked, you would open your eyes to something completely new. The Moroccan tiki-taka. And it was your Hakim who was at the centre of it, you couldn’t be more proud already. Your cheers turn into full blown screams as the chance comes to fruition with Boufal taking a risky shot. The stadium lights up and the electricity moves through you in a way you hadn’t felt in any other stadium. The noise is overwhelming but the relief that you feel is all you need.

Fairly soon after the first chance, your eyes light up and you prepare yourself to scream again when you realise who is at the centre of this one. You get up from your seat and hold your breath, the scream bubbling up your throat but it's not to be this time. Wonderful chance for your husband but it goes just wide and he winces. You can imagine what's going through his head already. The normal Chelsea treatment would be online ridicule and contempt but you know the Moroccan crowd better than that. He gets a fairly big cheer from the crowd anyway and you smile widely when you see Walid giving him a reassuring thumbs up. He smiles back and then manages to easily find you in the crowd. You do the same as Walid and his smile widens and he gives you a shrug. Quickly getting ready for the play to continue.

The final half hour is tense as you all tensely wait and pray for a goal that could break the equaliser and it finally comes. The crowd once again is electrified with cheers as Sabiri takes Morocco back into the lead. Even with the comfort of the lead and the clearly worn out Brazilian side, nothing has you more happy than seeing Hakim continue to give it his all. For the first time in a long time, he looks like he’s having fun and you couldn’t be happier for him. It felt so right here. Things felt natural and he was reminded of why he loved the sport so much in the first place.

The final whistle is a sound almost as beautiful as the adhaan and the cheers vibrate the stadium once again, the volume at an all time high as Morocco do it once again. Yet another historic victory to solidify their world cup status. The crowd lights up once again as everyone celebrates the resounding victory. A reminder that was very much needed and a message that could be sent out to the rest of the world. You were so proud. So proud you could combust into flames. They really did it again.

You turn around from celebrating with some friends to see Hakim charge towards you, his face lit up with a smile. The next thing you know, he’s grabbing you by the hand and dragging you towards the field where you can celebrate freely on the grass. He lifts you up and spins you around as you laugh together before he puts you down. His arms stay in place however, grip tightening as he takes in the moment.

“We really did it.” he mumbles, dumbfounded by it all.

“Of course you did, you were amazing!” you beam and he furrows his brow.

“I messed up probably one of the easiest chances of the night.” he reminds you and you wave your hand dismissively.

“Oh please, forget that! You were perfect otherwise and you know it!” he shrugs before lifting you up and spinning you around again.

The hotel lobby is absolute pandemonium as everyone gathers to celebrate the victory. You’re there with him the entire time, pressing little kisses onto his face at any given opportunity and a dopey smile on your face as you looked at him otherwise. Memories of the missed shot leave his mind fairly quickly as everyone celebrates the victory. He’s a blushing mess with the love you’re showering him with and his skin is burning by the time you reach the time you reach your hotel room.

“You’re awfully affectionate tonight.” he mumbles, eyes drifting away from yours because he knows how much you’re enjoying this.

“I’m proud of my wizard! What can I say?” you shrug before making your way onto the bed, your back against the headboard.

“C'mon, let me spoil you for the night.” you pat the space in front of you and he obliges, removing his sweater and sitting with his back towards you. He knew that you wouldn’t want to do anything in the holy month, even if you weren’t fasting and especially right after a match.

Your warm, smooth hands begin at his shoulder as you press into the knots, careful not to hurt him as you work away at the tension. He can feel it melting away from his body already as the soreness dissipates with your comforting touch. You continue down the rest of his sore back and when you’re done, you press kisses over his shoulders and upper back. He sighs out before turning around to look at you with a shy smile. You don’t give him much time to think before grabbing his face and pressing your lips against his. He’s surprised but ultimately welcomes the affection as he melts into the kiss. You whine as he parts for breath.

“What has gotten into you?” he asks incredulously. You always made sure to shower him with affection but it had been a whole other level recently.

“I don’t know! I guess seeing you happy just makes me happy! Like really happy!” you attempt to explain before reaching for another kiss, which he accepts. When you part again, you lay yourself down and he lays next to you, face only a few inches from yours.

“You know you really were amazing out there today!” you remind him and he smiles.

“Could have been better if I was on target.” he admits with a small shrug and you run your thumb over his cheek.

“Oh you know that it isn’t all about the goals! you were everywhere today, you make it look so easy!” you attempt to explain. He smiles and you breathe out in relief because he’s finally accepted the compliment.

“But…”

“Nope. Go to sleep now.” you quickly interrupt him before him so his head is under your chin. You feel him laugh against your chest before finally conceding although its muffled against your skin.

“Fine! Fine! It was good today! I was good!” he says but he opts to stay where he is, even with your loosened grip. He lets out a yawn and that's your signal to end the night. You press one more kiss to his temple and his arms snake around your body, snuggling into your chest. Sleep finds him quickly as the exhaustion crashes through him in waves. The warmth of your body and the hand once again smoothing over his back is enough to send him into the most peaceful slumber. The feeling of his warm breath against your skin is a comforting one as well as the feeling of his strong arms around your frame. It lulls you into a place of contentment at which point you find yourself falling into your own slumber.

not ramadan anymore but as I always say, better late than never lmfao but i hope u enjoy anyway, lovelies xoxo ryan ;)

#hakim ziyech #hakim ziyech x reader #hakim ziyech imagines #hakim ziyech imagine #footballer fic #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football smut

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