#mats hummels one shot

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Mats Hummels words: 1k+ request: Mats Hummels - no pref - 250 - 500 - Them decorating the tree together and she gifts him a new bauble (they have a collection of silly and memorable ones) to tell him they’re gonna have a baby

A/N: ... so this is why it's taking so long for me to write these. I can't abide by the word limit.

A/N 2: in my haste to get this posted, I (wrongly) forgot to thank @percervall for helping when I was getting inside my own head and couldn't think straight.

“I didn’t realise ornaments held so much until you.” Mats says from his sprawled out position on the floor. He’s not a grinch, but he’s not the first one banging down the door to get a tree up and decorated. That being said, he does enjoy seeing the result and though he tries to deny it, he revels in watching her getting excited about the small things. 

“They just capture a moment or two in your life.” she says, holding one in her hands while she scans the tree for the perfect place. She wouldn’t say she had a need for things to be perfect but Mats absolutely would and he takes every opportunity to move some around when she’s annoyed him, just to watch her staring at the tree for far longer than needed trying to work out why it no longer looks right. 

Some have been passed down through generations and obviously hold sentiment to her, some are funny little ones that either Mats himself had picked up or they’d both purchased together once he learnt of her love for decorations, some just simply looked good. Some, like the ones they’ve been looking at today, are from key moments. Like their first christmas together and she’d brought her favourite one to his to put on it to cement her place in his home. Or one that they’d purchased together when they moved into their new home. There’s even a new one today to symbolise his man of the match award, a small tree trinket that she’d picked up as a joke but he had to chuckle when he saw it. 

But that’s not the only new thing for the tree that she’d bought for him. And nerves are building in her belly as the thought of it creeps back in once more. She knows if she doesn’t get it under control, she’s going to go to pieces and the announcement is ruined. She’s wondered how to do this for far too long and figured that since they were now making this a tradition where the two of them both put a bauble on each, that this would be his main bauble to hang. She hasn’t seen him eye any up yet which makes this even better for her to be able to pass him the one she needs him to look at. 

“I think I’ve left my drink in the kitchen, do you mind going to get it for me?” She asks as she places her bauble on the tree. Her hand moves to her stomach, a move that has become so instinctive since she’d see the pregnancy confirmation on the pregnancy test(s) that she’d taken, but also to try and physically settle herself. She’s kept this to herself for a few weeks while she tries to work out what she wants to do and weighing up how he’ll react to the news and now that the time is here, she realises it’s probably the waiting to tell him that’s got her into this anxious state. 

He grumbles as he gets up but he does as she asks. The moment he’s out of the room and she hears him moving away, she goes to where she’s hidden the surprise, retrieves it and puts it in with the other decorations. She needs to remain calm but she heard the way her voice crumbled a little when she asked that question. Mats, for all his dumbass-ery, was quite smart and he knew her better than she liked to admit. It wouldn’t take much more voice wavering for him to figure out something was wrong. 

“I gave it a little sip,” he declares as he walks back into the room. “Had to make sure it was still warm,” he justifies when he catches her expression. She lets him off the hook, but only because of her nerves. 

“Thanks.” she takes a little sip herself once it’s in her hands and she throws a look in the direction of the decorations. “Can you pass me the white one over there please? I’m trying to think where to put it.” She says as nonchalantly as possible. 

She keeps her back to Mats as she hears him rummaging through the packaging until he picks one out. “This one? With the black writing that says…” Mats trails off as he reads it to himself. She wants to turn to look at him, to see what his initial reaction is but she also can’t stand to see if it’s a reaction that’s less than happy. “Baby Hummels coming summer 2024” he repeats, his voice taking a tone that she’s never heard before. 

It’s only now that she turns, eyes raking over him to see his body language. He’s standing there with it in his hands, unable to look away from it, fingers gently stroking over the words written in acrylic pen. She wants to disturb him, wants to ask what his thoughts are but she knows oh too well what it felt like to see those two lines on the test. This was his test. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How sure?” Only now does he look at her face. 

“Quite sure. I took five that first day and I’ve taken two weekly ones since.”

“You’ve known for two weeks?” He asks quietly. 

“I needed to get to 6 weeks for it to be classed as a pregnancy. Anything before then is…”

“Right.” Mats nods and looks back at the bauble.

“Are you ok with that?” she nervously asks. 

“We both agreed for you to come off your pill months ago. Yeah, I think I’m ok with it,” he grins and pulls her into a hug. “Our last Christmas as a two. Hey there, Mama.”

And even though it’s a name that she’s thrown around to herself, saying it softly as she’s stroked over her stomach which, thanks to the increase in hormones, has made her lower belly a little more bloated and giving her a false belief that this is her bump.

“Hey there daddy.”

_

It's worth noting here that week 12 is generally considered the safe week for pregnancies, the week where you can tell people because the rates in which you can miscarry drop with each week.

Week 24 means that your baby has a chance of survival should they be born early.

However, in order for your pregnancy to be classed as a pregnancy, you need to get to week 6. I know this first hand. This is when they can perform an ultrasound scan.

So while it may seem in the fic that she means week 6 is the "safe" week, it just means that she can now be classed as pregnant from a medical perspective.

#mats hummels one shot #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels blurb #mats hummels drabble #mats hummels fanfic #mats hummels fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #football one shot #footballer one shot #football fanfiction #football blurb #football fanfic #football drabble

[footballerimaginess]

Reading

30 Day Challenge My daily challenge with prompts, these fics will not be tagged only if they were requested by an account and they’ll be under 500 words.  14. Reading your book  Mats Hummels  Word Count: 209 “What you doing?” Mats asked as you were laying under a blanket as you felt the cold draft coming in from the window.  “Reading” you bluntly replied as you showed him the book.  “You are so into that book” he laughed as he sat on the small empty part of the sofa as he gently kissed your cheek.  “Mm, I am. It is so good, I can’t wait for this book to be turned into a movie” you smiled as Mats looked at the front cover.  “Book lovers, sounds pretty boring” he let out a laugh as your brows furrowed as you ignored him, trying to hit him with the book.  “Oh shh you, what are you reading then?” you asked hum as you watched him get up and get to his from his bag.  “This one” he handed it to you.  “Oh even more boring than mine” you handed it straight back to him as it looked so fat and chunky.  “Don’t knock it until you try darling” he smirked as he placed it on the table.  “Come on, let’s make some tea and we can spend the afternoon reading our books” Mats suggested as you simply nodded, not looking up as you carried on reading your book. 

#hayleys30daywritingchallenge #mats hummels imagine #football imagine #football imagines #football one shots #football one shot #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #football x reader

[worldfootballrumours]

#World Football Rumours

[bellinghamount]

Your stories are just beautiful. Can I request a Mats Hummels one angst with a fluffy ending maybe? Was thinking you could use she/her and maybe the chorus of I Have No Right To Love You. Maybe where she wanted more from Mats but he didn't, and now that she's gone, he realises that he wants her. Dunno, if this is too detailed but I suck at writing and my head is full of ideas. ❤️

i have no right to love u | mats hummels

not my gif and I think it's the saddest "angst" I've ever written, or not... btw requests are CLOSE

notes: OMG! I think this is the best plot someone ever had given to me!! I’m sorry is this is too long, I just can’t stop writing haushaus hope u like it!!

warnings: angst! disappointment, sadness, heartbreak... selfish!mats, a fluff in the end? idk

word count: 5297 (yeah, it's trully long)

When Y/N woke up that morning, she knew exactly where she was. She had been sleeping in that bed for months, but what was supposed to be something good and pleasurable had been crushing her heart. Every time she and Mats had sex it had been wonderful, but it had been a while since she had felt the need for it to be more. She hadn't been talking to or meeting any other man, for her he had become unique.

Mats had indeed come to occupy a space in her heart that no one in a long time had been able to, but she was tired. Tired of not knowing where they stood, tired of not knowing what he felt and what he wanted with her. Mats had always been a very closed guy, he didn't like to talk about feelings, preferring to deal with things in a straightforward and cold way.

She sat up in bed and scratched her eyes. The bit of blanket slipped from her shoulders and she felt the cold hit her bare skin. Mats was beside her, shirtless, his messy black hair spilling over the pillow. He was truly gorgeous, and she didn't know how she was mustering the strength to get out of that bed, but she needed.

Y/N crawled to the edge of the bed, putting her feet out, but before she could get up, she felt his embrace around her waist.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mats asked, with that husky voice. His bare chest pressed against her back, his beard scratching her skin and his lips kissing her shoulder were the perfect set to hold her there, but she already decided it would be firm.

"Mind my own business, I guess, Mats." She replied, coldly, disentangling herself from his arms and beginning to put on her clothes. Mats frowned, finding it strange that she was so vapid.

"Oh!?" Mats watched for a while as Y/N put on her clothes, waiting for her to answer, but she said nothing. With that, he lay back down on the bed, arranging the pillow on his back, and turned on the TV. "All right then!"

She looked up at him as she finished dressing, feeling disappointment run through her veins. She hoped that her sudden indifference would have some effect on him, that it would make him ask her to stay, but Mats was neutral. It made no difference to him if she treated him that way.

"Really?" She asked with her voice a little embargoed, catching his attention. He took his eyes off the TV to look at her. "I come over, spend the whole weekend in your bed, and you act like I'm nothing?"

"What...?" He stared at her, Y/N was standing with her arms crossed, and she didn't look happy. "Why are you upset? What the hell did I do, if you need to go, go Y/N I know you have a life, and I never said you were nothing."

He turned his attention back to the TV, in Mats' mind, that made no sense. Y/N switched her weight from one leg to the other, irritated, he didn't seem to realize that something else was affecting her, and it hurt, it made her stressed and impatient.

"But you never made me feel like I was anything, either." She spoke, almost in a whisper, looking down at the floor. Then Mats finally understood what this was all about.

"Damn, Y/N, this again?" He grumbled.

"This what?" she raised her head. If he was going to start speaking firmly, she wouldn't listen with her head down.

"This shit!" Mat exclaimed louder, he sounded angry. That fellow was pissing him off. "You're charging me like I owe you something. You want a relationship full of clingy, 'I love yous', little gifts..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want!" Her eyes sparkled just imagining living that life next to him, and she was forced to interrupt him. She took a deep breath before she began to speak because she couldn't bear to keep those words to herself anymore. "Mats, I want to go to church holding hands with you, I want warm hugs on cold days, I want to stay in bed with you all day, I want to admire the stars with you because alone it's not working anymore. I want to wake up next to you every day and tell you how much I love you, I want to watch you while you sleep, I want to feel like the luckiest woman in the world for having you with me. I want to walk down the street holding hands with you, I want to go out at night for a romantic dinner, I want to travel to Paris and have my picture taken kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, I want this whole couple things, I want to end an argument by kissing you. Yes, I want a relationship, put the most honeyed and thoughtful, that's what I want from you."

She could feel her hands trembling with such nervousness, but she felt a certain pride that she had finally said it all out after so many months. Her heart had just melted in front of him, and all Y/N wanted most of all was positive feedback. Mats didn't take his eyes off her as she opened up, and seconds later he wriggled out of bed. He stood up facing her.

He heard every word, but the only thing he could feel was revulsion. He couldn't lie to himself, much less to Y/N. Mats had a very different way of seeing and feeling things that perhaps wasn't worth trying to explain to her.

He approached her, held one of her shoulders, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with his other hand. The gesture almost made Y/N hopeful.

"I can't give you this, I thought we already made that clear." He said lower this time, without the irritated timbre. Y/N took a step back, that was worse than a punch to the stomach. She really thought it would be different this time.

"Okay, so... I'm done."

"What do you mean?" She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from forming. She and Mats had had that conversation, about being something more, a few times. And it always ended the same way: him rejecting her and her accepting it, but if this time, Mats wasn't going to act differently, she was.

"I'm done of playing your games, Mats. I didn't want to put you up against the wall like this, but you're making me."

"Really?" He let out a sarcastic laugh. She couldn't be serious. Maybe she was trying to catch him in a prank.

"I want to live a love, Mats. I want to feel my hands sweat and feel that chill in my stomach. I don't want to watch love movies anymore and pretend I'm in them. I want to live them, and I won't wait for you forever. Like, coming and going to your house, waiting anxiously while you pretend that there is nothing but sex between us. It's slowly killing me. I'm going, this is your last chance."

That was it, Y/N lowered all her guards and knew that she was stalling as long as she could for time. Time to not give up. Time for something to make him change his mind. Time.

Mats frowned. He observed Y/N's serious features, her locked jaw and stubborn posture. He could undo her with just a kiss, but he was not a guy who begged.

"Okay, I'll see you next week." He turned his back on her to go to the closet to get a towel. Taking a shower seemed like a great idea.

Y/N opened her mouth in disbelief at his arrogance. She tapped her foot on the floor to get his attention.

"No!" she said louder this time. She wanted to punish his disinterest and his apathy. A hatred grew inside her, that had been the last straw because Hummels didn't seem to realize how much he was hurting her. "You just want someone to supply this scoundrel ego of yours. You don't know how to love anyone, Mats. I would really be angry, but I'm not, because this is actually very sad." And it was sad, Y/N could never live like that and if that was how he had chosen to live, then maybe Mats wasn't the right guy. "I'm serious, I'm going and if I walk through that door I'm not coming back."

She was bluffing. Mats was almost certain of it. In his mind, Y/N would come back next week, as she always did. That was his comfort zone, he had been there so long that he couldn't even tell, couldn't read in her hurt eyes, that this was not a bluff.

She waited for his answer, again with a certain expectation, and once again she fell. Y/N was like the lined up domino pieces that Mats loved to take down. He gave her his back again and said before going into the bathroom:

"Close the door on your way out."

Y/N watched him disappear from the room. She waited a few more seconds until she heard the sound of the shower being opened, until she decided to move. She walked down the stairs to the second floor with tears in her eyes that she could no longer hold back.

In the bathroom, Mats could hear the loud noise of the front door closing. He felt a discomfort in his chest at that, but he couldn't let go of the arrogant thought that she will come back.

─────────────

She didn't come back.

Almost three weeks had passed and Y/N had not returned. Mats kept waiting, but there was nothing, no call, no text message, no likes on Instagram, nothing, just the emptiness, as if she had never been a part of his life.

'Cause I have no right to love you

When I chose to walk away

The first week he didn't mind much, but as soon as the seven days passed he started to get worried. By the second week, Y/N was all he could think about. He drove with her in mind, in the passenger seat of his car. He trained, remembering her sitting on the bleachers cheering him on. He ate, remembering her favorite dishes and all the mess they made in the kitchen when they decided to cook together. Sleep seemed much more uncomfortable without the sex they had before and without her body to hold.

I have no right to miss you

When I didn't wanna stay

He spent hours looking at his cell phone, thinking about calling her. Maybe Y/N had blocked it, but he would never know, because he never tried to call her and thought he was a coward for it. He really missed her, in his bed, but he missed all the other things too.

You don't know how to love anyone, Mats.

That damn sentence kept echoing in his brain the whole time. Of all the things she had said to him, that phrase had been the worst. Sometimes Mats hated himself for being so selfish and for not being able to explain the things he felt to her. He felt like a piece of shit, Y/N had treated him as if he felt nothing for her, but he couldn't blame her when he himself never made the effort to show his feelings.

That was not true, he did know how to love, he just had a big problem showing it. Mats had such a wrong idea about love, for him love wasn't the antidote, it was what made you sick in the first place. He thought that showing his feelings was a weakness, like opening all the defenses of an army in the middle of a big war, and he couldn't stand that someone would one day call him weak.

That night, Mats had called his friend Marco Reus so that they could go to some club or bar on the streets of Dortmund. He was in a bad way, Marco could tell, so he couldn't obey the rule Mats had established of just drinking, no talking. The blond guy would occasionally crack a joke to try to lighten the mood or cheer up his friend, but Hummels looked worse than the Grinch at Christmastime. Everything got worse when he saw her.

It was the first time in days that Mats had seen Y/N. He and Marco were sitting at a table in the club, in the VIP area, far away in a place a little darker than the rest of the club. But from up there he could see perfectly well when Y/N entered and walked through the space as if on a catwalk to the bar. She looked good, more than good, she was perfect as always and worse: she was accompanied.

And I have no right to need you

And I knew what my heart was gonna lose

Mats stared at her for minutes. He had never felt a worse feeling in the world, seeing Y/N standing there, smiling, interacting with this man who was not him. The man was holding her waist, buying her drinks, making her laugh. Putting up with this was horrible, it felt like the acid was eating him up inside because Mats knew that he loved her. He really loved her, but he didn't feel entitled to feel that way, either.

I have no right to love you

But I do

I still do

Y/N didn't deserve someone who wasn't able to express his deep feelings, she didn't deserve someone who saw love as a ticking time bomb and acted like an ogre when asked about it. He was a mess. Mats clinked hard on the glass of the beer bottle as he looked at her. 'She looked more and more beautiful and less and less mine.' That's what he thought. But it was his punishment, he was the one who wanted things to be this way.

"Go talk to her before that guy takes her home." Marco commented, noticing his friend's interest in the woman at the bar. Marco didn't know what was going on. Mats was so closed off that he didn't share that even with his closest friends. "I believe she would rather go out with you."

Mats almost laughed, looking away, if Reus only knew....

"I can't."

"Sure you can." Marco slapped his shoulder. He had never heard from Mats Hummels' mouth that he couldn't take a woman home.

"No." Mats muttered ruefully. He shifted his focus, turning to stare into his friend's green, confused eyes. "I've already lost her."

"You already know her?" Marco was so confused, but then things started to make sense. Therein lay the reason his friend Hummels was so despondent.

"Yes."

"Since how long?"

"Months..." Mats confessed. Speaking that was almost a relief, far better than keeping it all to himself. "We were a secret."

"And what happened?"

"What do you think?" Mats' hand was restless. He swirled the beer bottle, other times he played with the cap, forcing himself not to look at where Y/N was standing. At no point did she look up, he thought she had no idea he was there.

"You being a proud little shit?" Marco deduced, he knew his friend's personality well, however Mats did not confirm, nor did he deny it. He liked subtle sentences that didn't say much.

"I do not wish to fall in love with anyone."

"Then what do you wish?"

"I wish to fall in love with myself." Mats let out an arrogant smile, he kind of thought he was a good actor.

"Like a narcissistic bastard?"

"Cheers!" Mats agreed, raising his beer bottle so that he and Marco could toast. They laughed for a moment, but the angst soon returned to mess Hummels up again. He just wanted that feeling to get out of him, but that wasn't the way things worked.

"Love is destructive. It forces its way into your bloodstream, barricading your soul until there's nothing left." Mats said. That was his vision of love. He was a safe box locked away with seven locks, never willing to let anyone change that vision of it. He looked at Y/N and remembered the day at his house. How bad must she have felt when he let her go? Thinking about that only ended him more, sometimes his ability to be a jerk surprised him. "Love only destroys you."

Marco couldn't help but disagree, he hoped very much that his friend would one day be able to think differently and be happy. "That may be, but what really kills you is being away from the one you love."

Mats almost smiled, for a drunk, Marco was actually giving good advice.

─────────────

Being a journalist was an amazing job, but it also had its bad parts. That Saturday Y/N was at Signal Iduna Park, she had been chosen to cover the match between Borussia Dortmund and RB Leipzig in one of the Bundesliga rounds. Y/N was nervous and trying to look busy since she had seen Hummels there. Her heart ached when her eyes met his during the pre-game, and it hurt even more when she realized that he was doing his best to avoid her.

She remembered the other games, she usually loved it when she was assigned to cover a Dortmund game, because it meant being close to him. Mats would occasionally find a way to steal a kiss and talk dirty things in her ear that made her legs tremble, but since they had broken up, standing on the edge of that pitch had never been harder. She was almost losing her mind seeing him there, warming up and pretending she was nothing. Almost a month after she had left his house crying, Y/N still missed Mats, but he seemed fine. That was a sign: he really never liked her as she thought.

It was a long 30 minutes of torture before the warm-up was over and Hummels went back to the locker room with the rest of the team to prepare for the start of the match. Y/N accompanied Liam to the mixed zone. Liam was a great work friend, he was trying to help Y/N get over Mats by distracting her, taking her out and encouraging her to meet other guys. Nothing had taken effect yet, but he was trying.

"You need to relax, Y/N." He said, massaging her shoulders.

"But I am relaxed, don't I look relaxed?" She asked, trying to stop trembling. Y/N was looking directly at the door to the home team's locker room. The players would be leaving there any moment to go to the field, and she was trying uselessly to forget that Mats was playing for that club.

"You look like you're about to throw up all your guts." He laughed, and Y/N tried to smile at the comment. "I'll get you some water, okay?"

She shook her head, only the two of them were representing the station, and she didn't want Liam to leave her alone, but he was gone. She turned her back to that door, trying to distract herself with her cell phone and biting the nails on one hand when she felt someone behind her.

"Who is he?" Mats asked. He was the one who was standing behind her. When Y/N turned around, she saw that the players from both teams were standing there, forming two rows to go through the tunnel and onto the field. Mats was the last in the Dortmund row.

Mats was irritated. He was happy to see Y/N, but he didn't like seeing her with the same guy as the other day. Maybe she had actually moved on, but by the time he realized it he had already asked. Normally he could hide his jealousy well, but having to put up with it even in his club's stadium was a little too much for him.

"Does that interest you, Hummels?" She looked at him, disbelieving. Was he jealous? He had no right to feel jealous. Mats stared at the floor, Y/N never called him by his last name before.

"I was just trying to start a friendly conversation." He said messing with his hair, a good way to hold her attention, Y/N loved his hair.

"Friendly?"

"Yes, what do you have against friendships?"

"I don't want to be your friend." She crossed her arms at chest height. Y/N could even have a friendly conversation with him, but then she remembered that in four weeks he never called, texted, or tried to approach her again. Nothing to show that he was sorry. "You don't like me, I'm trying to be okay with that. So stay away."

Mats swallowed dryly, she had never been so rude. Since the conversation with Reus in the bar, he had decided that he would think of ways to get Y/N back. He no longer wanted to feel that awful feeling that he was losing something very good due to her cowardice.

"Y/N..."

"No! Don't look at me like that." She interrupted him, not willing to give in easily. Mats was an idiot who didn't deserve a minute of her attention. Maybe he was just looking for someone to fuck and went after the weakest link.

"Like what?"

"Like you..." Her voice died suddenly. "Feel something."

"But I...."

She looked deep into his eyes and could swear she saw something in them, something like tenderness and hope. Was he suffering? No, he couldn't be. He was pretending, as he always pretended, she couldn't fall into that trap.

"How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?" Y/N shook her head to the side, she looked at him and vociferated her last sentence before walking away to look for Liam, "Shut the fuck up, Mats, you're not going to hurt me anymore."

Mats snorted, angry with himself. She hated him, her words were like barbs, thrown to tear at his skin with each sentence. He was paying for his indifference, and the price had never been higher.

Outside the weather was cloudy, Y/N was with Liam and the other journalists as the game started. It started to rain at the beginning of the second half and hasn't stopped since. In the end, Borussia Dortmund lost 1-0 to Leipzig, the opponent's goal had come after a failure by Mats to mark the striker.

First Y/N, now the team had lost the match because of him. Mats didn't need anything else to make him feel like crap. He tried to maintain all the patience in the world when the journalists approached him to ask questions. The conceded goal was his fault, nothing more fair than for him to attend to the journalists. It was not a good time to have microphones and cameras with flashbulbs pointing in his direction, he just wanted to cuss a thousand times and go home.

"I think our team has to be smarter, we lacked the competence to score the goal, to tie and then turn it around. We had 27 shots on goal. Unfortunately, we only hit a few..." He started to say, but he wasn't looking at the cameras. Y/N was standing still, a little further away in an area that the rain didn't hit her, but she was looking at him. "It's apologizing. To say that the will is not lacking. The players fought. But, unfortunately, we couldn't overcome the opponent and score the goal."

He couldn't concentrate on the journalists' questions, he shifted his focus all the time to look at her, but it got worse when the next journalist to introduce himself was Liam and started asking about the goal he conceded. Mats clenched his hands into fists, so hard that his knuckles turned white. He didn't want to answer that guy's question, he didn't care about any of that shit anymore, he just wanted Y/N.

He left the reporters behind and used the anger he was feeling as an impulse to take some courage. He would never forgive himself if he let this chance pass him by. Y/N hugged her own body, as the rain became heavier and the wind colder, she started to walk backwards when she realized that Mats was coming towards her. Unfortunately she only managed to run as far as the covered part of the bench.

"Y/N, please listen to me." He shouted, starting to walk faster to catch up to her. He stood facing her. Mats held Y/N's warm, small hands with his wet, icy hands. "I think I'm going crazy every time you give me that look of disgust."

Y/N didn't want to look into his eyes, because they gave her a reason to stay and listen to what he had to say. Suddenly, Mats no longer seemed like that heartless guy unable to feel anything.

"Mats..."

"Listen to me. I was an idiot, I did everything wrong." He confessed, Y/N had waited so long to hear that she could hardly believe it. "I always do everything wrong, and I'm sorry if I'm too late, but I want all that too."

"All what, Mats?" Y/N pulled her hands from his and placed them in the back pocket of her pants. He used this as encouragement to touch her face, making circles on her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear.

Mats was all wet after running for almost an hour in the rain, on another occasion she would have found him extremely sexy, but it was his sincerity that was making him handsome.

"All that shit! Holding hands in church, warm hugs on cold days, staying in bed all day, waking up next to you every day. I want to tell you how much I love you and make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world." Her eyes sparkled, it was the first time she had heard Mats speak the word "love" in that way, and because he remembered the words she had said that day. "I want to take you to Paris and have my picture taken kissing you in front of the Eiffel Tower. Yes, I want a relationship too because you captured my heart like the bandit I swore I'd protect me from." Mats felt his voice start to falter, Y/N was the first person he had opened up to like that, and he didn't care if it made her come back to him. "You said I don't have the capacity to love anyone, but if I ever really loved anyone in my life, that person was you. And I still love, even though I don't deserve you. I wish you would give me a second chance."

Y/N was in shock, she didn't know what to say. Her mind and heart were a whirlwind of emotions. Her heart wanted him more than anything, but her mind kept sending warnings, telling her not to trust him. The stadium was getting emptier and emptier as people left, and she should do the same.

"I can't, Mats, I'm sorry."

She started walking fast to the mixed zone to meet Liam, Mats regretted deciding to stay in the rain. Y/N wanted to leave, but every step she took forward only caused her to be pulled back further. Fighting that feeling was horrible because she could still feel the butterflies in her stomach dancing as his hands brushed against her again, her heart pounding with every word he spoke and her lips trembling to kiss him again.

Y/N missed Mats so much, she thought it was all over, now she knew that Mats missed her too, or rather, he loved her. He really loved her and wanted to be with her. Wasn't that exactly all she had ever wanted?

It was bad that her pride couldn't outweigh her feelings, because her real desire was to throw herself into his arms again. Y/N hoped Liam wouldn't fight with her for doing that because he saw how much she suffered when she broke up with Hummels and going back to him seemed silly.

She was an idiot. Love someone is the most idiotic thing one could do to oneself, but also the most wonderful.

Y/N looked back, Mats was walking in the middle of the field, in the rain, head down. Y/N had not gotten wet, but as soon as her feet started to get wet, she knew there was no turning back. The rain was soaking her and that feeling was overwhelming her as she marched towards the love of her life. But if she was going to do that, it wouldn't be in a condescending, cuddly way like Mats was used to.

He took a moment to lift his head, and when he saw Y/N coming towards him, his chest almost collapsed with excitement. She was coming back, and she was coming back to him. A smile broke out on his face in comparison to Y/N's closed face.

"Dear God! Promise me, you fucking idiot, that I won't regret this." She grunted punching his chest. Mats laughed because the little punches she was throwing didn't even tickle him. He reached up grabbing her waist and pulling her to him sharply, making his chest collide with hers, just the way Y/N liked it.

"I promise." He crossed his index finger on her middle finger, not stopping smiling, but that didn't seem enough to soften the expression on her face.

"You didn’t understand!" Y/N spread her hands on his chest, but he refused to let her go. "I want flowers and breakfast in bed every day, I also want to hear you always say you love me. You will set aside half your summer vacation to take me to Paris and I swear, I swear to God, Mats Hummels, that if you lie to me, cheat on me, or make me suffer, I will cut your dick off!"

Her lips were so close, they felt so soft, he couldn't think of anything else but kissing her. Mats leaned forward a little more, resting his forehead against hers.

"Pretty demanding, but I'm okay with it. Anything else, honey?"

The rain continued to fall, hard, soaking both their clothes and making everything cold, but Mats was so happy that he didn't care. It got better when Y/N's hands hugged the back of his neck. He would try his hardest to do everything she had asked and even more to see Y/N happy and to make her feel loved.

"No, but I can think of something else." She said with her mouth close to his, feeling his warm breath hit her wet face. She closed her eyes feeling his beard make friction with the skin of her face.

"You're pretty intimidating for a short girl." He smiled letting out a small laugh with the intention of teasing her. Y/N gave him a small slap on his shoulder with the intention of scolding him for making fun of her height. She had to stand on her tiptoes to be able to kiss him every time.

"Just shut up and kiss me, you asshole!"

She said before shocking their lips into a passionate kiss. Hummels held her tightly as his lips slid over hers thinking that there were people out there who would kill for love, some who would live for it too, he felt lucky to know that he was one of those who would live and that it hadn't been too late to realize it.

#mats hummels #mats hummels x reader #mats hummels fluff #mats hummels fluffy #mats hummels angst #mats hummels blurb #mats hummels one shot #mats hummels fic #mats hummels fics #mats hummels fanfic #mats hummels fanfics #mats hummels fanfiction #footballer fanfic #football fluff #football angst #football imagines #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels imagines #requests: mats hummels #my writing: mats hummels

[iwriteficsandtragedies]

Crossing Lines

Warnings: references to sex, pregnancy, language

_______________________________________

“Mats, is this really what you want?” He told them to make the deal and get it over with. “They’ll call you a snake,” they said, but they’d been calling him a snake for years and he didn’t give a shit. He was on the ground in Dortmund before the official announcement was even made. The goodbyes hadn’t been terrible. So many of his teammates were fathers. They understood, and the others would one day.

When he stepped over the threshold of his old house, the memory of the glass she’d thrown as he’d left smashing against the wall rang in his ears. It had taken six months for her to speak to him again. That’s what happens when you make a life-changing decision without talking to the one who shares that life with you. She throws you out of your own home and chucks a pint glass at your head on your way out. He’d gone to Munich alone, and she’d made a whole new life in Dortmund without him.

He had thought he was over her til that night in November last year, when they’d lost at Signal Iduna Park, and he saw her in the stands as he’d left the pitch. He had stopped so suddenly that James had slammed into the back of him, nearly knocking them both to the ground, and when he regained his bearings she had disappeared. He had wondered if he imagined her until he saw the message from her asking for his hotel details. They spent the night tangled up in each other, but by the time the sun came up she was gone.

She hadn’t responded to any of his attempts to reach her again, until a week after New Year’s when she texted him a picture of a pregnancy test with two pink lines and a “We need to talk.” But they didn’t need to talk. At least he didn’t. He called his agent that day, told him to make the transfer happen in the coming summer window. He needed to be back in time for the birth in August, if he was counting right.

She told him a child didn’t mean they were back together. He knew. But she had smiled so beautifully when he told her he was coming back for the baby. She let him come to the appointments he could, FaceTimed him during the ones he couldn’t. They talked about names and car seats over dinners, and she let him buy her a bigger vehicle. She still kept reminding him that a baby didn’t mean they were back together, but the way she kissed him goodnight before pulling him back into her house by the belt buckle sure felt like they were back together. 

So there he stood, in his old house, staring at familiar but blank walls and bare floors. The official announcement had surely been made by now, but he had turned his phone off. He didn’t care what anyone on Twitter had to say. He turned when he heard the lock on the front door click, and she came through looking like a summer goddess.

“Wow,” he said. He knew she was pretty miserable, but she made pregnancy look good. Her dress hugged her perfect round belly, her skin was glowing, and... well, her pregnancy boobs were fantastic. He kept this to himself, though. “You look pretty.”

"I feel like a leaky cow,” she said, fanning herself.

“A pretty one, though.” He winked at her, and she gave him a small smile.

“I haven’t been in here since you left. It’s smaller than I remember.”

He looked around. It did seem smaller. Her home was newer, more open. It had a bigger yard too. His was a bachelor pad. “Well, the baby will live with you anyway. I’ll just... come over...”

“Move in with me.”

“What?”

She heaved a heavy sigh, twisting her hair up and pressing a fist into her hip. “Maybe it’s the heat, maybe your child is eating my brain, but I want you to move in with me because I miss you and I love you and I guess we have a family now.”

“What?”

“Mats, don’t make me say it again.” She looked pained, and he didn’t know if it was from being pregnant or from admitting that she still loved him. “You can’t live here while your child lives somewhere else, you’re not that kind of father.”

He stepped to her, rubbing a hand over her belly and feeling the baby kick out at him. He swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat. “Are you absolutely sure?” He could easily rent his house out again, he thought, but only if she was serious.

She covered his hand with hers, squeezing it hard. “Yes.” She pulled his fingers to her lips, kissing the tips of them. He saw a tear roll down halfway her cheek before she wiped it away. “I still can’t believe you’ve done this.”

He shrugged. “You made it very-” He paused for effect. “VERY. Clear that you weren’t moving to Munich. I’m not living that far away from my kid. It wasn’t a difficult decision.”

“And me?”

“Well,” he said, grinning slyly. “Falling back in love with you was a nice little perk.” He leaned down for a chaste kiss, not trusting himself for anything more. She really did make pregnancy look hot. “So. Let’s go home?”

"Let’s go home.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag List: @footballffbarbiex @tumpaasaye 

#i don't know what happened #this just came out of my head at 2300 #mats hummels #mats hummels fic #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels fanfiction #mats hummels one shot #borussia dortmund fic #bayern munich fic #germany nt fic #footballer fic #football fic #footballer imagine #football imagine #football fanfiction #footballer fanfiction

[ricciardosheart]

I am sorry - Mats hummels

Warning = Fluff and mats hummels (daddy) nothing dirty its a feel good fanfic

the original idea is not mine but I did add some twists

"I see you've decorated the place," he said, gesturing towards the world map. "I like it."

She put down the box and glared at him, trying to ignore how captivating he looked with the sunlight filtering through her new chiffon curtains, falling on his eyes and accentuating their dark hazel colour. She had the urge to scream at him; "Are you here to taunt me?" but nothing came out of her mouth. It was as though as all the feelings bottled up inside of her for weeks have dissipated into thin air, leaving her standing in front of him, hollow chested and uncertain.

"How did you..." She cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. "How did you get in here?"

Mats lingered at the doorway, his eyes flickering between her and the scattered boxes, falling on the ones he'd sent a fortnight ago. "You left the door open," he finally said. 'As always,' she imagined him adding.

She took a few steps towards him, strapping her arms together against her chest. "You should sit down," she mumbled softly, and, even though to him it looked as though she didn't want him there, Mats walked briskly to the sofa left carelessly at the back of the room. He recognized it as the one she had in her old apartment; it looked sad and dejected here, covered with plastic saran wrap and devoid of the crocheted throw pillows her friend had gifted her for Christmas. He heard her say something about making coffee and looked up only to see the tail of her red maxi skirt swooshing out of the door, the sound of those worn sandals she loved to wear flip-flopping annoyingly against the ceramic tiles of her new home.

In the kitchen, she leaned against the marble counter and watched her paint-splattered fingers tremble after turning on the coffee maker. Her eyes instantly travelled to the calendar stuck to her fridge, to that date marked dolefully with yellow highlighter. It's been six weeks, she counted, six weeks since that guy and the fight, six weeks of not seeing Mats, six weeks passing by without going to his games and without him congratulating her on her birthday. And now he was here, he had stood in front of her, only an arms-length between them, and for once she understood that eye roll-worthy phrase that made her recoil when reading it in a novel or hearing it in a film; so close yet so far away. She shook her head as she turned to take the mugs.

When she came back, he was still looking at that black and white world map suspended on the wall crookedly. He remembered when she bought it from a souvenir shop in Strasbourg, and how they went back to their hotel room and coloured the countries they'd travelled to together in blue; France, Japan, England and Belize. He recalled regretfully how they'd been planning their trip to Cape Town before...that night. He didn't understand why she had it up there in a new house, where she was supposed to start afresh. He had begun to ask her about that when a waft of her perfume mixed with the rich scent of the coffee struck him, and he swallowed, trying hard to keep it from dizzying him.

The shrill sound of cardboard scraping the floor broke through the heavy silence as she pulled one of the taped up boxes to sit on. He looked at her then, sipping on her coffee and taking swift glances at him from behind her mug. They sat there for a while, speechless and heavy hearted, but it was a comforting and serene sort of silence, the one he was used to with her. Then she asked him how he was, and they fell into a circle of small talk, until their conversation faltered off and muted once more.

She took a deep breath, the question turning over and echoing in her head. "Why are you here, Mats?" she asked finally.

Truthfully, she didn't expect that slow shrug and doubtful pout, and him saying, "I wanted to see you," with an air of indifference, as if she surely should have known that.

"Did you get my letters?" she uttered suddenly. The broken words were laced with embarrassment, her ears going pink as she bit on her bottom lip, waiting for a response.

"Yes," Mats spoke quietly, fondling the handle of the steaming mug. "I thought about what you said..." His voice faltered as he looked out the window, where a tree's branches swayed lazily with the October wind, the sun creeping in through the holes in the blanket they'd created. He'd though about what she said. "I don't know if it's because of the power of your writing," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Or if it's because I was actually being ridiculous and I only realized it now, but I...I overreacted and I'm...sorry."

She'd been longing to hear these words for days and nights that molded into each other into one long chain. She'd spent hours in her bed staring at the ceiling and imagining him saying variations of the sentences he'd just uttered to her. But the words had left his mouth rather fruitlessly, leaving her blinking at him and waiting for that magical, miraculous thing to happen.

"I shouldn't have doubted you; I should have listened when you tried to tell me that nothing happened with you and that...guy," he breathed, refraining from cursing. "But to say that was the only issue we had would be insane."

She knew it was coming, she'd expected it. "I know," she nearly shouted, "That night I- I said a lot of things I shouldn't have said...things I didn't mean to say," she corrected herself.

"I did too," he whispered, wishing she would come to sit next to him and play with his hair and kiss him like she always did. This was the height of missing her, sitting in front of her and not being able to touch her and tell her how much he'd been yearning to be with her. But his pride held him back, forcing him to watch her breakaway right there before his eyes. He could tell she was tearing up and hiding it from him, her voice fracturing when she spoke next.

"So, what now?" she asked, clapping her hands together.

Mats leaped to where she was, kneeling beside her on the cold floor, looking up at her tear-stained face. "A number of things."

He took her hand, pleased to see her entwining her fingers with his. And although it's been over for six weeks, it still felt as familiar as ever to hold her hand. "First, you forgive me,"

She finally broke into a smile, leaving his heart feeling like it was about to burst with the sun. "Done,"

It was his turn to beam at her; "After that, we unpack these boxes." He said and she nodded.

"Then, we take this mattress and we baptize it."

She shook her head as she swatted his hands away from her and giggled. Her laugh rung through his ears pleasantly, washing over him blissfully. "I love you, Mats," she said as she wrapped her arms around him, his head buried in her coconut-scented hair.

"I love you," he closed his eyes and breathed her in, feeling her bones under his once more. "And I'm sorry, again."

#mats #hummels #mats hummels #mats hummels fanfiction #football fanfiction #football fanfic #football one shot #football imagine #footballer imagine #football blurb #fluff oneshot #boyfriend material #dortmund

[footballfanfictions]

Tempted 

Pairings: Erling Haaland/OC, Mats Hummels/OC

Prompt: he’s your/her exes manager (think a player finishing their playing career and moving into coaching)

Author’s note: This gives me such nostalgia to when I first started this blog around 2015 when 90% of the requests and the writing that I did was for Mats and Marco. Thank you for all of the support, I appreciate it now as much as I did back then.

This is part of @footballffbarbiex ‘s summer writing challenge.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Mats

My playing career had come to an end after the European championship in 2021, a tournament where Germany exited in the round of 16 to England of all countries and I came away with an own goal to my name. That tournament was the final nail in the coffin when it came to my playing career but Dortmund had graciously offered to help me take my UEFA coaching badges and I had started to assist the manager in a permanent role with the goal of becoming the first team coach one day.

I had a good relationship with the players, more so the younger ones that hadn’t played alongside me as much. The others, like Marco, found it difficult to accept the power shift from team mate to coach, but the young players adapted well, their respect for me unwavering. 

I had spent more time with Erling than any of the others, wanting to broaden my knowledge beyond what I knew about defending and watching him score goal after goal absolutely mesmerized me but spending time with him off the pitch and seeing the opportunities and freedoms that he had made me want to have my time all over again. 

He had introduced me to his girlfriend Mia after a few weeks of us spending time together socially. She was a tall, tanned brunette and slightly older than Erling at 23 years old. What attracted me to her, if I dare to admit it, even more than her appearance, was her intelligence and meaning no disrespect to my young friend, I simply could not understand why a girl like that would want to be with him. 

----------------------------------------------------

The player’s auction was a bit of fun and was hosted every year for charity. The premise was that people would bid on a player and get to spend a specified amount of time with that player. The younger players usually drew in more money and offered more with some of them even auctioning themselves off for a date or an evening. 

Erling being young and thinking himself the most attractive guy on the planet had offered himself for an entire evening and night.

As I sat across the table from him and Mia I watched her body language, her shoulders hung low and she had a pained expression. Erling was leant back in his chair smiling for the cameras and waving at passers byt, seemingly completely unaware of his partner’s feelings. 

My stomach flipped with uneasiness. The feelings that I had for the young woman were not right and couldn’t be acted upon, even if I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms and comfort her. 

The lights in the hall dimmed as the auction got underway with Jude Bellingham up first. I knocked back my glass of champagne and tried to steady my nerves, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Erling’s name was called.

To his noticeable relief, Jude was bid on by a sweet looking young woman.

I jokingly bid on Marco when he got up on stage, hoping to drive up his price a little to get the most for our chosen charity, a children’s hospital in the city. He found it funny and encouraged me to keep going but sadly I was outbid. I could really have used an afternoon of Marco’s time, thinking of all the household chores I could have got him to do. 

Erling was up next and my heart sank as I watched him strut up onto the stage and grab the microphone.

“Come on ladies!” he said, firing up the crowd.

The auctioneer had the wrestle the microphone back out of his hands and had barely open the bidding when paddles started to fly into the air.

I watched Mia look around to glare at the tall blonde woman that was now the winning bid. 

I stood and swiftly moved to sit in Erling’s vacant chair and put my hand over hers where it was laying on her paddle. “Don’t bid on him, it’s not worth it and will look odd.” I said quietly.

Her hand relaxed beneath mine but it took me a good few seconds to remove mine, missing the contact almost instantly. 

The bidding continued and there were several quite famous young women bidding on Erling now. I knew of them as they had been linked to some of the other players in the past. 

“This is shit.” she mumbled to the right of me. 

“You don’t have to watch this happen.” I reassured her.

“How bad is it going to look if I walk out now? The cameras will catch it and it will be all over the news tomorrow.” she sighed. 

The bidding finally ended with Erling won by the blonde who confidently strode up onto the stage to claim her prize. She spoke directly to Erling but the microphone in the auctioneer’s hand picked up the whole thing as she said “I’ll be claiming my prize tonight.”

The two of them left the hall hand in hand and the both of us sat in stunned silence for a moment before I told Mia that she should go and escorted her from the room out into the foyer. 

Erling was just disappearing out of the doors into a waiting sports car with the woman as I put my arm around Mia and said “never let him see you cry.”

Nodding, she let me take her through to one of the reception rooms, empty bar a bench which she sat down on and allowed herself to cry now that we were in private. 

I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulders as she crumpled into my arms and began sobbing against my chest. I soothingly rubbed her back whispering “sshh it’s ok” against her hair. 

“He’ll come home to me tomorrow and he won’t even think he has done anything wrong.” she laughed bitterly.

“If I may ask you, why on earth are you with him? You’re an intelligent girl, you know better than to be with someone like him. As you just said, you know exactly what he will do, yet why do you never hold him accountable for his actions?” I brushed my hand through her long hair before cupping her cheek and tilting her chin up so that I could look into her eyes.

She was speechless for a moment, but had stopped crying.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be with someone like him should I?  He will remain this immature until it is too late. So the question is, how do I find someone more mature?” her lips curled into a smirk as she as the question and the last piece of self control I had been holding onto melted away as I crashed my lips onto hers.

For a few heated seconds we held back, the kiss gentle but needy until her hands were in my hair and her tongue was past my lips. I lifted her fluidly onto my lap and held her in place with my arm around her waist. As I was about to push the boundaries a little further I felt the squeak of the door being pushed open and we sprung apart, although with her perched on my lap it was still evident exactly what we had been doing. 

Marco stood in the doorway,  with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a shocked expression.

“I can explain-” I started before Marco cut me off.

“No need, no need. I knew all along that you were tempted…”

#Football Fanfiction #mats hummels #erling haaland #one shot #writing prompt #writing challenge

[penguintransporter]

Forget Me Not (act III; silence)

ACT I   |   ACT II

I said I won’t post, but ha! This one is for @somedaytakethetime & @littlebitofbluelittlebitofcoffee ​ ❤ read, share, and let me know what you think. I absolutely enjoy raving about my own stories with you guys.

act III, or one where their silence says more than thousand words

Silence is a powerful thing; unnerving and frightening.

Sometimes it’s there to heal, and sometimes to inflict the pain, yet silence, as empty and unassuming it is, carries a certain weight, and often tells more than a string of words do. It can be honest and deceitful, can carry false promises and break dreams, and in rare moments when two people experience it, it can carry the truth, the need; desire and trust.

The interior of his sleek car is warm and comforting — the scent that he is so familiar with, captured in every molecule and atom which floats around him. The seat next to him is occupied by his weekender bag — thrown there haphazardly in both hurry and rage, along with his running shoes and a book that he bought some months ago, but never bothered to read.

Her words, or rather lack of them still occupy his mind, cutting through his brain like a sword, and chopping away the last threads of the rope that holds them tied together. 

The sound of doors slamming interrupting the uneasy silence — it plays on repeat in his ears, like a rerun of a bad movie; cheap TV drama with uneventful ending. 

He is drained of energy, and he feels guilty for doing so, but he doesn’t know what else to do as he slips off the cold metal that wraps around his ring finger before throwing it inside the glove box. 

As he did many times before. 

Because it’s not the same anymore. 

Nothing is.

Leaning back into the seat, he rests both of his hands over his face, rubbing the tiredness away — the stubble scraping the surface of his palms, and he takes another deep intake of breath before fastening his seatbelt. Carefully, he drives himself out of the garage, adjusting in his seat as he tries to shake off the nervousness that crawls up his back before emerging on the familiar road — the rows of expensive villas passing by in blurry flashes. 

There is a drizzle that falls from the sky and covers his pristine windshield — the late autumn unapologetic and tiring, so he switches on the wipers that have a steady rhythm; almost like a therapy for his tense mind. 

One, two, three, four.

Wipe.

One, two, three, four.

Wipe.

He stops his car on the curb just outside the training grounds, kills the engine but stays inside, leaning back with his seatbelt still on as he waits. A mixture of feelings inside of him are almost too much to handle as they scavenge for a trace of reasonability; a trace of rightness in what feels so wrong, even if there was nothing wrong in taking a friend out for a coffee. 

Just like he did last week. 

And the week before.

His heart makes a leap when he spots her exiting the grounds, and he leans forward, giving her a small wave from behind the smudged glass. Subconsciously, he runs a hand through his hair before pressing the button that rolls down the window on his side — a gust of cold wind disturbing his warmth out of the sudden. 

“Hey,” she breathes out — hands crossed over her chest in an attempt to stay warm. “I sincerely hope you weren’t planning on doing laps today,” she adds, glancing at the seat next to him. 

He grins as he looks away from her face and down at his hands that lazily rest on the lower part of the steering wheel before looking up at her again — stomach contracting with something he hasn’t felt in a long time. It is both pleasurable and distasteful at the same time, and he finds himself desperately wanting to shake the feeling away, but it doesn’t let go. 

It’s there; omnipresent.

“Only if you changed your mind about the coffee,” he answers with a smile, letting the silence fall over them; a different kind of silence. “It’s cold, Ayla,” he whispers, watching her — face flushed with cold, crease of tiredness on her forehead, and the unruly fringe that dances in the rhythm of the wind. 

She nods softly, and he quickly looks away before taking a deep breath as he collects the things from the passenger seat.

The sound of the doors closing is quiet as she slides in the, now, empty seat next to him, and he realises that he has stopped breathing for a moment. 

Something he had been doing a lot lately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles as she starts unbuttoning her duffle coat — dainty fingers toying with the wooden buttons. “I didn’t want to wear my uniform again. I felt a bit awkward last time,” she admits as she glances at him, “almost like a charity case.”

Blue is her colour.

The cafe at the end of the road is quiet and warm, and people inside are busy with their own stories as the two of them sit down with their orders. Their motions are uninhibited, resembling the two actors on a stage doing a play that they had been acting for years. Every line familiar and every move a photographic memory; timed and unbothered. 

He has a hard time looking away as she looks down at her coffee before up at him, giving him a smile — her eyes drawing him in; pulling at the loose strings without words or actions; tying a double knot that’s impossible to untie. 

Strings that already have too many double knots.

Way too many for him to be nonchalant about it.

“How have you been?”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, he feels the wave of comfort wash over him — her voice calming and reassuring, and he doesn’t hesitate; words truthful and unattained. As he sips on his coffee, he admits that he is tired, but that he wants to play. He tells her about the knee pain due to the weather changes, and he is honest when he expresses his disappointment for not being called in a national team for the upcoming matches, despite expecting it to happen. 

“And you?” he asks when he sets down his cup — eyes tentatively on her, and he notices the sudden tension on her features, followed by a simple sigh that escapes from between her lips. She’s hesitant, but he gives her a smile; a silent encouragement, and she nods. It’s the work that’s been difficult, especially when she wants to switch her shifts like earlier that day. She admits that she was tired of being here and there, and how bad she had been sleeping lately. “And the—,” he trails off, glancing at the thin, golden ribbon that sits around her finger. 

“Feels like a limbo,” she looks away from his face as she speaks, focusing on the corner of the mahogany table, “and I know, to you, it sounds ridiculous, but I really have no other option,” she stops, averting her gaze back to his face — eyes shadowed with the sadness that makes his leg shake and his hands sweaty. “So many times have I wanted to just go and ask help from authorities, but they are not stupid. They will figure it all out, and then…,” she trails off with a shake of her head, “God knows I don’t want it, but it’s easier this way.”

“How do you know that it’s easier?” he asks, feeling a certain type of anger rise inside his chest as he eyes the ring again. 

The sight of it bothers him, and he cannot explain why.

“Because I am not made for anything better than this,” she admits quietly — voice breathy, and he looks away from her eyes. “I am here because I made myself wear this—,” she stops, lifting her hand to look at the ring, “--I wish there was a way out, but I know that he won’t let me go so easily, so I take what I can get.”

“I think you are,” he speaks after what seems like an eternity, “I think you are made for better.”

She doesn’t say anything, but looks at him, letting the silence speak more than a string of words would ever do.

—

ACT IV

#football imagine #footballer imagine #football fanfiction #mats hummels imagine #footballer x reader #football one shot

[footiefanficwonderland]

Plumber in Shining Armour (Mats Hummels OS)

A/N: Morning lovelies, This one is for Mikaela, a wonderful girl who has requested Mats OS ages ago. I hope you are still around and will read it eventually, and that you will forgive me for making you wait this long; I am really truly sorry. This is just a random, cute story and I hope you guys like it. Even if you hate it, please leave me your feedback, I would love to know what you think, I feel a little rusty tbh lol. PS: I don’t even know what is with this title, I forgot how hard it is to come up with a proper one. Please excuse my extremely poor sense of humor. :( Anyhow, enjoy xo

“I swear I've never met a woman as messy as you, Mikaela,“ Mats commented disapprovingly as he rose from her couch where he was sitting with his legs resting on her coffee table, pretending not to watch Pretty Little Liars marathon which was on. He marched to the kitchen and picked up a wet towel lying in front of the sink, but dropped it even faster once he realized it was soaking wet.

“Why are you leaving wet towels all over your kitchen?!” he exclaimed in disgust.

Mikaela appeared in the doorway, putting on one of her earrings. “Please don’t touch that. It’s bad enough that my family is coming over tonight and my sink is leaking, I don’t need any other mess around here.”

She was wearing a tight, deep maroon dress which reached to her knees and flattered her body shape quite well. The off-shoulder effect accented her sun-kissed shoulders. Her lob was bouncing in waves around her shoulders as she titled her head to fix the earring in place.

Her family was coming over tonight after more than half a year, and they were Portuguese so that included much more than just her parents and siblings- there would be at least twenty people at this dinner. Knowing how judgmental women in her family were especially to the fact that she was twenty- five and still without a sign of being married soon, she has tried extra hard to make everything perfect for their stay. She has been cleaning around her house for days, cooking and preparing all different kinds of food, just for their liking. And then her sink started leaking and she has called her plumber but his wife has just went into labor and- thanks to her superb luck- it was the summer vacation season and every other plumber she has called was either on vacation or couldn’t get back to her before Monday. And so she was left with a tiny pool in her kitchen on the day of the grand family dinner. Amazing.

“Your sink is leaking?” Mats questioned “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked a bit offended.

“What for?” she sighed going into the bathroom to find her other earring.”

“I can fix this in no time.”

“Sure you can”, she snorted under her breath.

“Hey, I heard that!” Mats said offended, appearing in the bathroom as well. “Where do you keep the tools?”

“Mats, just leave it, you’ll make an even bigger mess.”

“I won’t. I know what I’m doing.” He assured. “So, where?”

“There is a toolbox under the stairs,” she sighed as he already headed in that direction.

“But if you break something more, you are buying me a new kitchen, mister!” she called after him. He just showed her a thumbs up, as he started searching under the staircase.

As Mikaela was setting up the finishing touches on the dinning table, Mats was under her sink, touching this and adjusting that. The noises that he made and curses that escaped his mouth made Mikaela know better than to ask how it is going. Finally, he appeared from underneath the sink with a triumphant smile on his face. “All done!” he exclaimed.

He had barely had the time to finish his sentence, when something broke and a strong stream of water started pouring all over his head. At least it was the clean water. Mats cursed and hurried to try to stop it, but it was of course out of his abilities and he was only able to tighten the pipe a little bit, still leaving the water to leak from underneath. Mikaela was staring at him with such intensity as she was still holding one of the plates in her hand, and Mats examined her carefully actually scared that she might throw it at him.

“New kitchen it is.” Was all she said however, as she kept on adjusting the plates around the table. Suddenly she slumped in one of the chairs and, putting her head in her hands, started to whimper.

“Why does this have to happen to me all over and over again? Why can’t I just once impress my family so at least one year I can save myself from their snotty little comments on how big of a loser I am.” There weren’t any tears on her face, she just ranted in agony.

Mats approached her and squatted before her, taking her hands off of her face.

“Hey,” he started in a comforting voice. “You are not a loser, not even close. You are the smartest and kindest person I know. You are also one of the most independent ones. I’ve never seen someone so young build themselves such a life as you did. That is impressive. Hell, if you consider yourself a loser than I am an even bigger one. Which is of course not true because we both know how awesome I am.” He tried to joke but it seemed to be in vain as Mikaela continued.

“You don’t know my family Mats. This house, my career, that “life” you are talking about- it means nothing to them. As long as I don’t have a husband by my side and at least a child on the way, they will consider me a failure. And I’m not saying having a family is bad, but there are also other things in life. Not that I don’t want a big family of my own but I’m proud of who I am for now; I’m proud of my career.” She sighed in despair.

“Oh that’s easy,” Mat’s face lit up. “If your love life is the problem, you can just say I’m your boyfriend” he winked at her.

She gazed at him and wondered how everyone would think she’s crazy for not taking him up on that offer. Because who wouldn’t want Mats Hummels as their boyfriend. At least pretend-boyfriend for one night. But she didn’t, seriously. She met Mats when she bought this house- he was her first neighbor. And since there weren’t many single people or even people their age for that matter in this neighborhood, they eventually started hanging out quite often and somewhere between their coffee breaks in the afternoon on her porch or long rants about everything and anything what bothered them sitting in pajama shorts on his couch or bed at 2 am, they became quite great friends. Despite the fact that he was a world famous football player and a very handsome one indeed, she never regarded him as anything other than her friend. That is until recently when she started to notice things about him that she normally wouldn’t. For example, the V-line of his body when he changed shirts before her, asking for her advice on what suited him better, or the tight line of his jaw, or how incredibly hot he looked with water dripping from his hair whilst they were lazily hanging out by his pool. Suddenly she became very self conscious about what she wore or how she behaved around him, and suddenly she would start having this very strong, strange feeling going through her body whenever he touched her, whenever he came really close.

Mikaela tried to convince herself that it was simply due to her lack of interaction with man. However, after she has called a man she has started dating in the meantime “Mats”- thankfully his nickname was Max so he didn’t quite get her mistake- she finally admitted to herself that she was falling for her neighbor. The thought of admitting how she felt to him was- to her- never a possibility because she was one of the youngest scientists at the Naturwissenschaften Institute in Dortmund, while he was the Mats Hummels- and more importantly, the one whose only type of women seemed to be models and/or actors with waistline of 60 cm. She realized this was superficial way to judge one’s so- called “friend” but she had his dating history to confirm her theory.

And so she said, “Thanks for the offer but I’ll deal with them somehow.” Then she flashed him a reassuring smile, “Thank you for your support, I’m fine now, really.”

“You still owe me a new kitchen though,” she joked to lighten up the mood.

Mats laughed and pulled her into a hug, “Come here, you.”

“Ew, no, Mats let me go, you are all wet!” she objected trying to wriggle out of his hold.

“Have you considered having this dinner at a restaurant, though?” Mats asked as Mikaela returned to arranging the table. “I mean, I know this place where they have really amazing food, plus the place is big enough to take all of you. I think your family would like it.”

“But dinner is supposed to be in couple of hours, I don’t think anyone will have a place for such a big dinner now without reservation,” she sighed.

“That, my dear, is when the perks of being a “world cup winner” come in handy”, he winked at her, “The manager is a really close friend of mine. So what do you say? I call my plumber to come and fix this mess while you are at the dinner, so your family doesn’t have to even see any of this mess?”

“Anything to save yourself from having to buy me a new kitchen, huh Mats?” Mikaela joked smiling at him gratefully. “Thanks for doing this for me.”

He pulled her in for a hug. “Ah, anything for you. You know I hate seeing your pretty face all sad and sullen.”

And there it is. These were the mixed signals that Mats freaking Hummels kept sending her. Every once in a while, he would look at her like she was the only women in the world or he would cuddle with her sometimes a bit too intimately, or he would give her these compliments that made her feel so special, or he would just take care of her in every way that he possibly could. But Mikaela was always the rational one, so she never let herself get her hopes up.

While helping her clean up the table she has so carefully arranged, Mats fake- sighed, “You will have such a great time with your family. Eating alone gets so boring sometimes, you know.”

Mikaela knew very well what he was trying to do but decided on letting him try a little harder.

“It would be really great to get to know your family,” he continued, “I’m really curious to see who you look like the most.”

Mikaela put down the table cloth that she had just folded, “My dad, and if you want to come with, you should just ask,” she teased.

“Well, I’m waiting for you to be polite enough to ask, women”, he narrowed his eyes at her. “But I don’t need any more invitation than that. I really hate eating alone”, he sighed.

 xxx

The dinner seemed to go much better than Mikaela has hoped. Her family really seemed to like the choice of restaurant. Even more however, they seemed to like Mats, which was very surprising for Mikaela considering that her family has always been pretty clear about how disappointed they were in some of her partner choices who weren’t Portuguese, and how they strongly believed she ought to settle down with a Portuguese man. Nonetheless, Mats seemed to have fit right in, making conversation with everyone, retelling funny stories, making jokes. On couple of accounts, the women of her family questioned subtly and then later on not even so subtly anymore, whether the two were “a thing”. Mikaela assured them they are not, but she didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in her parents’ eyes. Like she said, everyone seemed to be very fond of Mats. Some of her family members even a bit too much for her liking. Her two-years younger and breathtakingly good-looking cousin Patricia seemed to not be able to take her eyes or hands for that matter off of Mats. As soon as she realized that Mats and Mikaela weren’t together, she was all over him. She had somehow managed to sit next to him, and had spent all night chatting with him. Not that Mikaela hasn’t already heard all those stories, but she couldn’t stand how her cousin kept touching him, coquettishly giggling at every other word that left his mouth. She even asked him to dance! In the restaurant where no one was dancing! Thankfully Mats has passed the offer. Somehow, she has even managed to convince him to take her to one of his games, and she wouldn’t shut up about the whole thing during the ride home. Mikaela thought her head was going to explode. She had no idea she could be this jealous.

 xxx

“Thank you for everything, I just hope my cousin didn’t bother you too much.” Mikaela said when she and Mats were finally standing on her porch while she was seeing him off.

“You know that you don’t have to take her to any games right? I know you just wanted to be polite, but she has bothered you enough.” She was a bit scared that Mats would say that he liked it, though.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Mats smiled, “I would love to take her. I would also like it very much if you came with us. I’ve been asking you for ages.”

“I think Patricia would prefer it if it was just the two of you,” she carefully said, analyzing his reaction.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. I have this thing for my neighbor anyway.” Mats smiled cheekily and Mikaela was left speechless. Her rational brain didn’t even have time to try to explain this, because in the next moment, Mats leaned in and kissed her goodnight. He has done it a thousand times before, but this time, his lips lingered on the corner of her lips a bit too long.

Mikaela thanked heavens that it was dark outside and he couldn’t see her face properly because she was sure it was tomato red. A million thoughts ran through her mind, as Mats started walking away from her. When he got near her fence he called, loud enough for her to hear, “Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

And Mikaela was sure the butterflies in her stomach won’t let her get any sleep tonight.

#mats hummels #mats hummels one shot #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels fanfic #mats hummels fanfiction #football #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer one shots #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #footiefanficwonderland

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Mats Hummels words: 1690 🙃 once I started, I couldn't stop. request: Mats - She - 500 – 900 - First of all, I loved your to love all of me series, so my idea is kind of related to it. An OC who works at BVB, is just the average late twenties girl and fancies Mats is on the same train as he is (randomly), and it's Christmas, and then the train breaks down or has to stop because of the snow storm and he realises that he's seen her before. Lil' fluffy where Mats it's his usual flirty self and she's just surprised that he's even talking to her... Hope this is good enough. I'm so sorry if it's not, I usually don't request things...

“We regret to inform you that with the current snowstorm making it difficult to navigate and rail signal issues at the next station, the train you’re currently on is coming to a stop until we can navigate safely. We apologise for any inconvenience that this may cause.”

This is the last thing that she wants to hear on the overhead tannoy as her stomach begins to rumble. Sighing, she reaches forward and checks her travel mug, swirling the contents around inside only to realise that she’s almost out of her drink. Her apartment is no doubt shrouded in darkness and freezing cold and though she thought about grabbing some food before she boarded the train and completing her grocery shop so that she didn’t have to do it when she did get off at her stop, she chose not to and now she wants to kick herself. It didn’t help that the train that she’d boarded was a local one and not intended for long routes, therefore there was no food and drink trolley to be able to make use of. 

Snow had begun to fall as she’d left the Dortmund training facilities but she didn't believe that it would stick or settle but this is proving otherwise a bad idea. She lowers the book that she’s been reading, resting it in her lap but not before sliding a bookmark between the pages. The thought of folding over a page corner makes her feel a little nauseous; even though she commits the ultimate cardinal sin to many by taking glee in breaking the spine of the books. Spines she can do, but pages felt like a step too far. It was bad enough in her opinion that she’d take the books into the bathroom while she laid in the bath; making it so the the sides of the pages would wrinkle where her fingers had held it. Bad enough that the pages never fully straightened back out and would forever have a slight water mark tinge to them. This one was near enough perfect. Except for it’s spine. 

Conversations break out as people begin to try and peer out of the windows, cupping their faces against the glass to try and spot where they are and further panicked conversations ensue. She gets it. No-one wants to be stuck on a train in the middle of seemingly nowhere at this time of year with no real timeframe of when things are going to be up and running again. 

She watches as parents begin to look horrified at the thought of trying to occupy their children on here for even longer than planned. Some people groan before pulling out a, presumably, work laptop and begin to fire it back up. 

may as well make a start on tomorrow’s tasks while you have nothing better to do, I guess, she thinks as she takes a small sip of her drink. 

Some couples bring out their snacks, tearing open packets of potato chips and begin to share them between one another; even being neighbourly by offering some to the nearby children after checking with their parents of course. It was simple acts like these that never failed to restore some hope for humanity. 

She continues to scan around her, careful not to let her gaze linger too long on any set of people, not wanting to make them feel uncomfortable, when she finally notices someone she didn’t expect to see. Dark curls tumble beneath the beanie that keeps his head warm. Thick dark lashes line the eyes which are framed by glasses. Perfectly maintained facial hair covers his upper lip and jaw line to highlight his lips in such a way that never fails to make her stare. And to her dismay, she finds that he’s now staring right at her. 

Heat floods her cheeks and she abruptly turns away, mentally scolding and kicking herself for doing so. It was hard enough keeping calm in work when she was around him, let alone now. She wants to pick up her book again, her fingers are already tracing the edging of the pages for the bookmark that she’d placed there previously but out of her peripheral vision, she can already see that he rises up out of his seat and approaches hers. 

“I thought it was you,” he beams. 

So he’d been watching her? But why? she thinks. “Yep, it’s me.” She tries to laugh it off but it sounds strained. She hopes he doesn’t pick up on it but how could he not? It was painful to hear. Trying to find something to do so that she’s not staring at one of the men that she’s been working alongside for a while now, she moves her bag from beside her and allows him to sit down. 

Before she’s able to slip the book into her bag, Mats places a hand on top of hers, freezing her movements as he tilts his head to look at the title. He could, of course, have looked on the side of it, but this feels much more personal. “Interesting choice. I wouldn’t have had you down as one for historical romance.”

“No? What kind of books did you think I’d read?” The fact that Mats had given any thought as to what she read makes her stomach flip.

“Something that didn’t involve hands slipping beneath petticoats for one.”

“Ah but it’s the romance and pinning of it all.”

 “Tell me,” he says, turning his torso so that he’s almost facing her and pushes his glasses back up his nose. She hadn’t noticed them slip but he had. “Are you one for only a happily ever after or are you content with a story ending, even if there’s no happy ending, but you enjoy the journey regardless of the outcome?”

She mulls his question over as he waits patiently. “If the ending fits, then it’s worth it. I hate to see a happy ending thrown in there when it didn’t fit, just for the sake of getting that HEA.” she takes another sip of her drink and grimaces at the cold liquid. 

“Not nice?” he enquired as he considered her answer. 

“Cold.” She replies and puts it aside. 

“I have a latte if you want some?” He gestures to the travel mug that he has with him. “It should still be hot. Or warm at the very least.” A kind gesture that in a way, takes her back. She never thought that Mats was selfish, but they aren’t exactly friends in the workplace. They’ve certainly never held a real conversation past what they were doing at the time, certainly not enough interaction for her to have assumed he’d have thought about what kind of person she is and what kind of genre consumer she was. But to offer her some of his own drink, from his own cup, was an intimate gesture that she would have thought he’d have reserved for friends or someone he was in a relationship with. And there was certainly no reason for him to initiate conversation now with her because of this.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She tries to brush it off, not wanting to make him feel as though he had to offer and was on the spot to do so. 

“I know I don’t. But I am. Don’t worry,” he pushes open the top, blows onto the top layer of the liquid before taking a sip himself. Usually a noisy drinker would drive her crazy but the slurping is on purpose. “See, I drank from it. If I’ve poisoned it, then I’ve poisoned myself too. And then my plan definitely isn’t working.”

“You mean…you orchestrated the snow storm yourself?” she feigns surprise, widening her eyes for effect.

“I had to leave training midway through too to bust the signal box further up, to make it a little more realistic.” Mats gives her a wink which earns him a laugh from her. 

Now relaxed, she accepts the mug which he still holds out for her and she tentatively blows over the surface too before taking a drink herself. He was right. It was hot enough to warm her bones but without scolding her mouth. And strangely enough, he takes his latte the same way that she does. 

“It’s good.” She comments as she tries to hand it back. 

“Keep it for a bit. I’d forgotten about it to be honest before I saw yours. And of course it’s good, it’s mine.”

Had it been anyone else having this interaction with her, then she might have thought that they were trying to flirt with her. But surely he, Mats Hummels himself, isn’t doing that? Surely he’s just being polite, because why would he want to flirt with her? She’s still surprised that he’d not only stood up and taken the initiative to speak with her when he could have just kept his head down and remained alone for the rest of the journey and hoped that no-one recognised him.

“You don’t have to sit here with me if you don’t want to,” she says, giving him a way out but instead, Mats removes his coat and folds it carefully over his lap and proceeds to make himself a little more comfortable instead. 

“I want to. And I still need to find out more about this pining that you do. What does a man need to do to get this reaction?”

 “That’ll take some time to tell you that,” she laughs, not wanting to dive in, just in case he’s kidding and doesn’t really want to know. 

“Then it’s a good thing we have plenty of time until the train starts moving again, isn’t it?” He asks, dark eyes staring into her in ways that make her want to clench her thighs together, swallow hard and make herself a little more comfortable. She has no idea how long she’ll be sitting next to the man that never failed to make her weak but she gets the feeling that he’s going to do everything he can to make her struggle to regain control over herself.

#mats hummels one shot #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels blurb #mats hummels drabble #mats hummels fanfic #mats hummels fanfiction #mats hummels fluff #football imagine #football one shot #football blurb #football drabble

[footballerimaginess]

Selfies

30 Day Writing Challenge 9. Taking selfies Mats Hummels Word Count: 156

This is honestly so short, sorry x "Hi" you mumbled as you made your way to the tunnel to see Mats after an impressive win in the champions league. "Hello" Mats mumbled as you grasped him a tight hug.

You and Mats headed across the pitch as you had to walk through to the carpark. "Quick can we take a selfie here? you deserve to be posted on my social media because you were incredible tonight and I am just so proud of you" you squeezed his cheeks as you gave him the biggest squeeze as you took a photo. "Aww thanks babe" Mats grinned as you made him pose for yet another photo. "I am, you're just amazing" you grinned as you grabbed his hand and walked to the car together. "Thanks, not too bad yourself" Mats smirked as you walked to the car. "Cute aren't you" you smiled as you both headed home where you both needed a well earned rest.

#30daywritingchallenge #mats hummels imagine #mats hummels x reader #football imagines #football imagine #football one shots #football one shot #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #football x reader

[notorious-fiction]

right hand (a whoever you want to read with story) - intro

      There are two types of people in this world.

        The him and the you.

       The ones that after a massive break-up, after crying themselves to sleep come back with a stronger belief in love than before, knowing their soul-mate is out there, somethere, and that their heartbreak was only to teach them a lesson so they could be even more prepared for The Real Love once they found it.

(That was obviously him)

       And then there was the ones that after a massive break-up, after crying themselves to sleep come back with a stronger belief in the fact that love does not exist, that there it no such thing as soul-mates and that they will never, ever be stupid enough to fall in love with someone again, ever, because if they do, well, if they do then they just deserve all of the freakin’ suffering because they are plain stupid.

(That was obviously you.)

       And those two kind of people often end up running into one another.

       And they’re usually drunk.

       And they’re usually stubborn.

       And they usually think they can change each others mind.

(But can they?)

          It was so fucking weird how a year could change someone.

(Completely.)

(As in, she felt like an entirely different person.)

       Thinking about her a-year-ago self made her wanna puke.

       How could someone be so innocent? So naive? So... Happy?

     That was the weirdest thing about growing.

(Not that she actually – as in physically – grew, but y’know, she matured.)

(Like fine wine.)

(Eurgh, cliché much?)

       Still, that was the weirdest thing about growing: remembering the past with some solemn sense of nostalgia but not missing it at the same time, of thinking about old mistakes and not regretting them (thinking that you were stupid as fuck: ah yes, regretting them: ah no) as (obviously) if it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t have learnt all that you had and you wouldn’t be who you were today.

       Yet, it was so fucking weird thinking about life before she met him.

       Because at the same time that it seemed happier and more colorful on her mind, if she thought about it – really thought about it – it wasn’t that great.

       Just like life with him wasn’t that great – if she really thought about it.

       And just like life without him didn’t seem that great – if she really thought about it.

       In the end, it all depended on her mood. If she was feeling nostalgic and lonely and needy, thinking about him made her want to rip her left arm to have him back.

       If she was feeling good and happy and self-assured, thinking about him made her want to punch herself on the face for letting him be in her life for so long.

(Either way, on her metaphors, she always ended up hurting herself.)

(Her therapist said it was a Thing and that she had to Work On It.)

(She thought she just wasn’t creative enough with metaphors.)

       She now thought of her life as BH and AH.

(Before Him.)

(After Him.)

       And as much as it had hurt her and made her want to die and cry herself to sleep and lit one cigarette after the other...

       She wouldn’t have it any other way.

       Because who she was now...

       Who she was now was Strong As Fuck.

(And she was so flippin’ proud of it.)

--

       Her boss told her he wanted a column about love.

       Love advices, to be more accurate.

       Of all fucking things.

(As if her love life wasn’t more of a Silence of the Lambs than Love, Actually.)

(More of a The Conjuring 2 than The Notebook.)

(More of a Saw IV than Titanic.)

(Well, it sort of was similar to Titanic.)

(As: it was sanked.)

       “Think rom-com. Think the last chapter of a Nicholas Sparks novel, when all the answers are there and all the problems are solved. Think headlines on Valentine’s Day showing people who have been married for over a century and tell their secrets are “camaraderie and beer”. Think hope, think –”

       She toned him out after “think Nicholas Sparks”.

       She would rather shoot herself on the head than write something thinking about Nicholas Sparks.

(Oh there she was again.)

(With the Hurting Herself On Metaphors Thing.)

(She would Work On It someday.)

(Just not now.)

       “Got it?”

       She nodded.

       Sure she had gotten it.

       If she hadn’t, she’d be fired on the spot.

       “Great. I’ve forwarded some of the” Her boss made quotation marks with his fingers “Quizzes to your e-mail. They’re all from people here at magazine, but with changed names obviously, then we’ll set up an e-mail so strangers can send theirs and blah blah blah.”

      She nodded. Knowing the people who worked with her, she’d be able to guess who was who by the first sentence.

     “Quiz” Her boss made quotation marks again “Sounds nicer than “problems”, right?” Before even giving her a chance to reply, he gave her a smile that showed so many teeth he resembled a shark “Well, who cares? Hope you have a satisfatory answer to them by Monday. Have a fantastic weekend, darlin’.”

       Sinking into her seat, she took the deepest breath she could before opening up her inbox, the first e-mail on it being ““QUIZZES” FOR YOUR LOVE COLUMN!! BY MONDAY!!! DON’T FORGET OR YOU’LL BE-” she assumed the ending was “fired’ and clicked on it.

       Running her eyes trough the “quizzes” (damn, that “quizzes” with the quotation mark was catchy), she felt a huge sense of dread take over her body.

A.   22. F.

My boyfriend has been cheating on me with our neighbor but I love him so much I –

J. 27. M.

       I think I’ve lost all of my friends since getting into a relationship. I used to spend all the time with my girlfriend and now –

P. 28. F.

       Guys can’t see me as anything other than a piece of meat and I don’t know what else to do because if I play hard to get they simply don’t even make and effort to actually get –

       Oh God. She was fucked.

      Because she had lost her inspiration.

       That part of her that believed in Happily Ever After, that could turn off the harshness of the Real World and lose herself in her own silly words.

       She’d grown cold now, a bit cynical, a ton more sarcastic than she ever tought she could get.

       And, as a Fluffy Romance Writer, that was sort of screwing up her career.

       Because she simply wanted to reply “FIND SOME SELF LOVE YOUR IDIOT” or “BOO-HOO, BROS BEFORE HOES, CHICKS BEFORE DICKS, ASSHOLE” and well, she was pretty sure her boss wouldn’t like those sort of answers.

       So, like a scene in a cartoon movie, she saw all the little engines on her brain moving as she thought about who she needed to talk to before she wrote single line.

     She’d call him.

       That damn asshole that had screwed up her last shot at love.

       The Love Advocate.

       The Idiot That Ruled All Idiots.

               She dialed the number she had saved as “Not Answer/Not Call”, waited as it rang for nine times (he was probably doing a “what the fuck face” at her name on the call ID instead of picking it up already), and, before he could greet her, she blurted:

       “I’m going to need to use it.”

       He had his mouthful of something, so his answer was all muffled “Ius’ uot?”

(Translation: use what?)

       “The You Owe Me One Card.”

       He swallowed.

       “God dammit.”

--

soOoOo this is something i started worked on tonight. it can be read with anyone you feel like it BUT i'll let you know in the long run if i feel like it fits more of a person than another or something like that!

anyway i’ll try to finish up the second chapter today and hopefully if it all goes well i shall post it soon YAY

if you guys enjoyed it pls don’t forget to like this post and/or send me a message, truly means the world & it keeps me going xxxx

#fanfiction #imagine #notorious-fiction #harry styles #harry styles imagine #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #football fanfiction #football imagine #mats hummels #neymar #rafinha #thiago alcantara #erik durm #julian draxler #one shot #james rodriguez #thomas muller #liam payne #joe keery #lars bender #sven bender #etc #have fun #writing

[thebluesideofmyworld]

Can You Hold Me - Mats Hummels One-Shot

This one goes for @beautiful-crazy-enigma24​ . Thank you for being one of the loveliest people on Earth :). I hope you like it. Sending you love and hugs from here! (PS: consider this as a late birthday gift;p)

Summary: She didn’t know what caused it. She didn’t even realize when it started.In fact, she didn’t even know what it is.  (Based on the song Can You Hold Me - NF feat Britt Nicole)

Word count: 1300 words

She didn’t know what caused it. She didn’t even realize when it started.

In fact, she didn’t even know what it is.

It’s just like days were slowly getting less brighter.

Which was strange, because nothing, nothing has changed.

She still got up every morning, went to work, talk and smile and laugh with her friends.

But as days went on, it was getting harder, and harder. It took more time for her to have enough strength to get up from herbed in the morning. And it took even more time for her to fall asleep at night.

Which was weird, because nothing, nothing was wrong in her life.

Nothing has changed in her life.

Yet, she felt like something was off, even though she could not really put her finger on what was it.

And today, just like any other day she got up, went to work, smiled and laughed and talked with her colleagues.

(At the back of her mind she wondered whether any of them realized how her smiles became less brighter, how her laughter sounded more hollow)

She curled up on her couch, staring at the TV without really looking at it.

It was one of her favorite TV shows, yet she could not seem to get excited about it anymore.

Her phone went off. Mats name flashed on the screen. She stared at it for a while, the ringtone sounded so loud, too loud in the living room.

After a while the phone went silent again.

She still stared at it, thinking that maybe Mats would just be like the other people. Those people who would leave her anyway at the end.

(People always left her anyway.

No one wanted to stay with her anyway.)

Then the phone went off again. And it was Mats’ name again that was flashing on the screen.

She chewed her lower lip.

Before that voice in her head tell her to not do it, she picked up the phone.

“Hey babe? How are you doing?”

(Why people always asked that question? Do they really want to know?)

“I’m…” she paused. Didn’t want to lie but didn’t want to say anything that would make him feel uncomfortable.

“I’m okay,” she finally said.

(She was okay, right? )

“What’s up, Mats?”

“There is this play that I know you’ve been dying too see,” Mats started talking. His voice was heavy with excitement and it made guilt clenched her heart because somehow, she could not get excited like that.

“And I manage to have two tickets for tomorrow’s evening. So, what do you say?”

“Uh…”

“The play started at 8, so I think that maybe we could have dinner before that? I know that you loved Indian food, and Thomas just told me about this new restaurant and I think we can give it a try?”

“Uhm…”

“Babe?”

She chewed her lower lip. Still didn’t know how to say no to Mats. How to tell that no, she didn’t want to go out to see a play, or to have some nice fancy dinner.

(Heck, she doesn’t even want to go outside her apartment at all.)

“Uh…”

“What is it? You have other plan already?”

“Uhm…”

“It’s totally fine. I mean, I can get us tickets for another day,” Mats said.

“Mats…” she paused to take a deep breath, hoping to calm herself down from this strange terrifying darkness that creeping inside of her.

But her heart started to clench, and she had to swallow a sob.

“Babe?”

She bit her lower lip harder and she hated it, she hated that tears started  pricking her eyes. She exhaled but it sounded more like a sob escaping her lip.

“Mats,”

“It’s okay babe,” Mats voice was no longer sounded excited but this time, was full with comfort. “It’s okay.”

She wanted to say something. Wanted to say that yeah, she was okay and no, Mats should not worry about her.

But she failed, and started sobbing.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks and she hated it because she didn’t even know why on earth she was crying.

“Babe, listen… Breathe, okay?  Listen to my voice.”

She nodded and managed to whisper. “Okay”

“Good girl. Now take a deep breath. One, two, let it out…”

She took a deep breath, letting Mats guide her. It took almost ten minutes of Mats softly talking on the phone before she started to regain her normal breathing.

“Okay, now, I am going to go to your place now. I am already in my car.”

“Okay,” she whispered, rubbing away another tears from rolling down her cheek with her finger.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Do you still want me on the phone?”

“No, no,” she shook her head even though she was aware that Mats could not see her. “It’s…it’s okay. I’ll wait for you, Mats.”

“Okay, babe. Now lay down and make yourself comfortable, okay? I have the key to your apartment, so don’t worry about having to get up and open the door for me.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, babe. Hang on there.”

She ended the call, and dragged herself into her bedroom.

Feeling exhausted, she laid down, and closed her eyes.

She didn’t know how long she fell asleep. But when she opened her eyes, Mats was sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to the bed. He stared at her with a gentle look in his eyes, and she could feel his fingers raking through her hair.

“Hey,” he said, and leaned closer to press a soft kiss on her forehead.

She wanted to ask when did he come, how long has he been here, why he was here.

But she was tired, just too tired to even think about how to ask those questions.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Mats said, resting his head next to her pillow. “It’s okay.”

She nodded. She was not okay. But Mats was here. It was not like he came here suddenly, magically, just make everything good again.

But it’s better.

At least she’s not alone.

That was already something. And for now, she would hold on into anything, anything that would keep her away from drowning even deeper into that terrifying darkness.

“You want to talk about it?”

She made an attempt to shake her head.

Because really, what was it to talk about when everything just jumbled in her head, when everything didn’t make any sense, when everything was so confusing and she just could not put it into words?

Mats gave her a single nod. The corners of his lips slightly curled up into the softest of smile.

“Is there anything that I can do? Anything that can make you feel better?”

She closed her eyes and tears started threatening to fall down again.

She opened her eyes. “Can you,” she paused and took a deep breath. But when she continues her voice was still trembling. “Can you just… hold me?”

Mats didn’t even bat an eyelid. He stood up and sat on the bed. He gently lifted her up, carefully adjusted her position so now she was resting her head against his chest.

She closed her eyes. Mats’ arms wrapped around her, and it was like Mats just build this bubble where there were only the two of them and the warmth and comfort from Mats were protecting her from the world.

Mats pressed another gentle kiss on her temple.

“It’s okay,” he said, softly running his fingers through her hair. “I’m here. You have me.”

She nodded.

She was not okay, yet.

But she would.

And no, Mats here, holding her did not instantly, magically, made everything good again.

But it was something.

And she would hold on to that.

“You’d be okay,” Mats whispered at her again.

She nodded.

She would.

#Mats Hummels #football imagine #football one shot #football oneshot

[ricciardosheart]

Come back Home - Robert Lewandowski ft. Mats Hummels

warning -> some anger, hate ends well , some smut (very little) and lots of love

WELL AS I WAS WALKING DOWN THE STREET I HEARD A FAMILIAR VOICE CALLING MY NAME

" HANNAH !!!" I TURNED TO SEE IT WAS MATS HUMMELS. I DID NOT WANT TO SPEAK TO HIM NOW. I DON'T HATE HIM BUT NOT WAS NOT THE BEST TIME.

MATS WAS MY CLOSEST MALE FRIEND HE KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME AND I KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM, BUT THIS FRIENDLY CLOSENESS MADE CATHY UNCOMFORTABLE ANYWAY HE WAS THE ONE I WOULD CALL AT 3 A.M. AND HE WOULD COME TO MY RESCUE AND I TOO WOULD DO THE SAME TO HIM. BUT HE SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THE TRUTH

"HANNAH WAIT !!" MATS FINALLY CAUGHT UP WITH ME. " HE DID NOT MEAN TO DO IT "

" SO HE MEANT TO PUT IT IN HER BAG " I BLURTED OUT

"YOU KNOW HE DID NOT HAVE SEX WITH HER," HE SAID

REALLY MATS NOW I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING SOMEONE TOLD ME THE HE DID YOU TELL ME DID NOT. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON NOW PLEASE TELL ME THE TRUTH MATS " I SHOUTED WHILE HE TRIED TO SHUSH ME BECAUSE WE WERE OUT IN PUBLIC AND THIS COULD GET INTO THE MEDIA'S EYES.

"LET ME TAKE YOU TO A CAFE WE WILL DIT AND TALK. IS THAT FINE ??" HE ASKED WITH HIS DUMB PUPPY DOG EYES.

I AGREED SO WHEN HE ASKED ME WITH HIS SUPER CUTE POUT-PUPPY DOG FACE.

IF YOU GUYS ASK WHAT HAD ROBERT DONE THAT WA SOO BAD. WAIT LET MATS AND I TELL YOU GUYS

MATS ORDERED HIS COFFEE AND I ORDER A DOUBLE SHOT

"SO TELL ME WHAT STORY YOU HAVE HEARD," HE ASKED

" SO WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO TO ST. BARTS LAST WEEKEND AND I HAD CHARTERED A PLANE AND BOOKE THIS VILLA OVERLOOKING THE SEA AND I HAD DONE THIS ALL IN MY MONEY "

I SAW MATS EYES LIGHT UP. I DID NOT EARN SO MUCH AS TO ENJOY MY WEEKEND IN ST. BARTS IN SOUTHERN FRANCE AND TRAVEL IN A PRIVATE JET AND PARTY LIKE THIS. MATS KNEW THIS.

"WE HAD TO GO THERE AND THIS WAS A SURPRISE FOR ROBERT WHEN I TOLD HIM HE TOLD ME THAT HE WAS OUT ON NATIONAL DUTY THIS WEEKEND WHICH MEANT HE HAD TO GO TO POLAND FOR SOE FOOTBALL DUTIES SO I WAS HEARTBROKEN BUT I WAS LIKE OKAY HE WAS NOT DOING IT DELIBERATELY,SO I CANCELLED IT FINE AND THEN ON SUNDAY I SEE HE HAS LEFT THE CLUB WITH ZUZANNA BIOJOCH. I DID NOT TELL HIM ANYTHING ON MONDAY WHEN HE RETURNED, I DID NOT WANNA RUIN HIS MOOD. SO I PUT THE STORY PAST ME AND WE EVEN HAD SEX ON TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY AND CUDDLED BUT HE NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT HER. I KNOW WE HAVE JUST STARTED OUR DATING LIFE AND HE SHOULD KNOW NOT TO MAKE MISTAKES BECAUSE I WONT TRUST HIM IF HE DOES ."

MATS SIGHED.

" WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD IS ALL THE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. BUT HANNAH GIVE HIM A CHANCE"

" BUT MATS HE SHOULD AT LEAST TELL ME THE TRUTH " I BLURTED OUT

" ALL I CAN TELL IS CATHY AND I TOO HAVE PROBLEMS NO MATTER HOW PERFECTLY OUR RELATIONSHIPS PORTRAYED. BUT THE REASON WE ARE STRONG IS THAT WE USE LOVE AS A MEDICINE TO GROW " HE SAID

" USING MY OWN SENTENCES AGAINST ME IS IT NOW," I SAID

" WELL IF IT HELPS I AM HAPPY," HE SAID GIVING ME A LONG HUG

" HANNAH PLEASE I DID NOT MEAN TO. TO " ROBERT SAID

" TO WHAT ROBERT ??? TO HAVE SEX, LISTEN I DON'T REALLY HAVE TIME SO CUT THE SHIT AND LEAVE ME ALONE " I RETORTED BACK

"LISTEN IF YOU HAD NOT BROKEN UP WITH ME I WOULD HAVE NOT GONE TO POLAND," HE SAID

"SO WHAT NOW ITS MY FAULT ALWAYS BLAME IT ON ME . SO MALE-ISH" I SAID

I IMMEDIATELY FELT PAIN IN MY LOWER ABDOMEN ONLY TO SEE IN SOME TIME BLACKOUT.

[ 3 HRS LATER ]

I WOKE IN THE HOSPITAL ALL DRIZZY AND BLURRED VISION

GOD WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO ME I WAS SOO SCARED BECAUSE I KNEW EXACTLY THIS HAD HAPPENED TO ME

AND IF ROBERT CAME TO KNOW WHAT SHE HAD DONE TO HERSELF AND HE KNEW HE WAS THE REASON HE WOULD KNOW THAT I STILL LOVED HIM AND WANTED TO BE TOGETHER.

WHICH WAS TRUE BUT I WAS TRYING TO PLAY HARD TO GET IT, HE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT I AM NOT A TOY.

SO ANYWAY HE DID TAKE ME HOME AND I COULD SEE HE WAS PISSED BUT I WAS A LOVESICK GIRL AND I WANTED (NEEDED) HIM, BUT MY EGO WAS COMING AND RUINING EVERYTHING

HE LITERALLY PUSHED ME HARD ON THE BED AND I WAS SCARED BECAUSE ROBERT LEWANDOWSKI PISSED ME NOT GOOD.

SO AFTER PUSHING ME ON THE BED HE STARTED TO WALK OUT CURSING IN POLISH AND I SOON HEARD PLATES AND GLASSES SHATTERING. SCARY

I DID NOT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO GET UP SO I PUT ON SOME MUSIC AND SLEPT.

[SMUT WARNING]

SO I GOT UP AND LOOKED AT THE TIME IT WAS 6:30 P.M. I HAD TO GET HOME.

SO I STARTED PACKING UP AND SOON LOCKED THE ROOM AND WENT DOWN AND SAW BLOOD, REALLY SCARED I WENT UP TO THE WASHROOM AND THERE HE WAS THE GREEK GOD BENEATH THE SHOWER ALL NAKED DANCING, I WALKED UO TO HIM AND SAW HIS HAND AND STARTED CHECKING FOR ANY CUT BUT NONE WERE THERE AND SURPRISED I ASKED HIM WHAT HAD HAPPENED. HE GAVE ME THE POUTY FACE I KNEW THAT HE HAD BROKEN MY SENSOR BLANCS .

I WAS FURIOUS I WANTED TO KILL HIM. HE KNEW I SPENT MY WHOLE SALARY ON THE BOTTLE OF WINE AND I HAD SAVED IT FOR MY WEDDING DAY BECAUSE I HAD WAITED FOR 15 MONTHS SO THAT MY PERSONAL BOTTLE MAY BE FILLED AND BLESSED BY MULTIPLE PRIESTS AND BOUND IN A SACRED CLOTH^^^^^^[ OK I BELIEVE IN SUCH THINGS]****

ANYWAY, I WAS SOO PISSED AT HIM I WANTED TO SLAUGHTER HIS SOUL. SO BACK TO THE WASHROOM

I PUSHED HIM AGAINST THE WALL AND SLAPPED HIS FACE MULTIPLE TIMES AND I WAS IN NO MOOD TO LISTEN TO HIS EXPLANATION.

" ROBERT I ALWAYS THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE A DAY WHEN WE COULD FIND A WAY BACK INTO THIS RELATIONSHIP BUT NOW THERE IS NO WAY," I SAID

HE PUSHED AGAINST THE WALL IN ONE SWIFT MOTION THAT DID NOT SCARE ME BUT I FLINCHED

"ARE YOU TELLING THAT THIS RELATIONSHIP IS ONE WINE BOTTLE?" HE SAID

"NO ROBERT THAT BOTLLE WAS FOR OUR WEDDING IT WAS IMPORTANT BUT YOU BROKE IT AND YOU KNEW ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT THE WINE WAS TO ME," I SAID PUSHING HIM OFF

"GOODBYE ROBERT," I SAID

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[SIX MONTHS LATER ]

IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY AND I WAS SAD BECAUSE IT WAS SAD THAT I LEFT ROBERT AND I WAS LONELY I DON'T WANNA BRAG BUT MY FRIENDS HAD PLANNED A PARTY IN THE EVENING AND THEY ALSO CALLED AT 12:00 A.M. SO I SLEPT UNTIL 7:00 A.M. AND I DID NOT WANNA GET OUT OF BED, BUT I FELT LIKE SOME INE HAD BROKEN INTO THE HOUSE SO I WENT OUT AND SAW THAT

THE ENTIRE HOUSE WAS FILLED WITH ROSE BUNDLES AND I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE ROBERT

I WAS SOOO SURPRISED WHEN HIS HANDS TOUCHED MY WAIST I SQUEALED

"ROBERT I AM SOO SORR-" I STARTED BUT I WAS SOON CUT OFF AS HE KISSED ME SOOO PASSIONATELY I HAD NEVER FELT THAT WAY, I LITERALLY LOST TRACK OF WHAT I WAS THINKING HE SLOWLY PICKED MY LEGS UP AND WRAPPED IT AROUND HIS WAIST. HE WALKED INTO THE HALL AND SAT ON THE SOFA WITHOUT BREAKING THE KISS. I SOON LET GO AND LAID MY HEAD ON HIS CHEST.

HE STARTED TO SPEAK

" HANNAH I MISSED YOU SOO MUCH THE LAST YEAR I MISSED YOUR TOUCH, I MISSED YOUR BRIANY ASS TRYING TO MAKE ME LOVE PHYSICS AND YOU COOKING AND I REALISED HOW MUCH I NEED YOU AND HOPE YOU LIKE THIS SMALL GIFT I HAVE "

"HERE TAKE THIS," HE SAID

HE GAVE ME THIS BASKET IT HAD 2 BOTTLES OF SENOR BLANC'S WITH MY NAME ON IT AND ALSO 2 TICKETS TWO ITALY GOD I LOVE THIS MAN

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"Remember: Life is short, break the rules (they were made to be broken) Forgive quickly, kiss slowly Love truly, laugh uncontrollably And never regret anything that makes you smile. The clouds are lined with silver and the glass is half full (though the answers won't be found at the bottom) Don't sweat the small stuff, You are who you are meant to be, Dance as if no one's watching, Love as if it's all you know, Dream as if you'll live forever, Live as if you'll die today" ~ James Dean

ONE OF THE ACTORS AND ONE OF HIS BEST QUOTES

#robert #lewandowski #robert lewandowski #fc bayern #bayern munich #lewy fanfic #lewandowski fanfiction #football fanfiction #rl9 #9 #fanfiction

[footballfanfictions]

One shot masterlist

ONE SHOT MASTERLIST:

Sergio Aguero

I’m your what? - Sergio Aguero

Xabi Alonso

Xabier - Xabi Alonso

Oceans - Xabi Alonso

Marc Bartra

Locker room - Marc Bartra (sexual content)

Iker Casillas

That guy at the bar - Iker Casillas

Thibaut Courtois

Curious - Thibaut Courtois (sexual content)

Too short - Thibaut Courtois

Enemy - Thibaut Courtois

David De Gea

Snow - David De Gea

Julian Draxler

What if? - Julian Draxler

Latch - Julian Draxler

You - Julian Draxler

The one that got away - Julian Draxler

Starting out - Julian Draxler

Wedding Bells - Julian Draxler

Dickish - Julian Draxler

Do you fancy a swim? - Julian Draxler (sexual content)

Cheer, clap - Julian Draxler

7 minutes in heaven - Julian Draxler (sexual content)

One last time - Julian Draxler (sexual content)

Used to be the one I love - Julian Draxler (sexual content)

Erik Durm

Prince Erk - Erik Durm

Family time - Erik Durm

You two make me sick - Erik Durm

Lone working - Erik Durm

Influences - Erik Durm

Matthias Ginter

I hate weddings - Matthias Ginter

Leon Goretzka

Double date - Leon Goretzka (sexual content)

They’re just jealous - Leon Goretzka (sexual content)

Priceless - Leon Goretzka

Jonas Hofmann

I didn’t want you to come - Jonas Hofmann

Mats Hummels

Love me harder - Mats Hummels (sexual content)

Parade - Mats Hummels

Secret sender - Mats Hummels

Alexa - Mats Hummels

Tempted

Adnan Januzaj

Hit - Adnan Januzaj

Robert Lewandowski

Merry Christmas Satan - Robert Lewandowski

Fernando Llorente

Expecting - Fernando Llorente

David Luiz

Sail - David Luiz

Claudio Marchisio

In Common - Claudio Marchisio

Billiards - Claudio Marchisio (sexual content)

Hachim Mastour

Mail mix up - Hachim Mastour

Alvaro Morata

Washing up - Alvaro Morata (sexual content)

Manuel Neuer

King - Manuel Neuer

Gloves off - Manuel Neuer (sexual content)

Getting down on the pitch - Manuel Neuer (sexual content)

Mesut Ozil

No service - Mesut Ozil (sexual content)

Sergio Ramos

Embarrassment - Sergio Ramos

Marco Reus

I think I only just met you - Marco Reus

Look at us now - Marco Reus

Get on the desk - Marco Reus (sexual content)

Latte - Marco Reus

No fighting - Marco Reus

Ferris Wheel - Marco Reus

Lap of honour (sequel to ‘Look at us now’) - Marco Reus

Moscow - Marco Reus

Same girl - Marco Reus

Childish games - Marco Reus

Jealous - Marco Reus

Cookies - Marco Reus

Santa - Marco Reus

Skating - Marco Reus

Grandma - Marco Reus

Spilt Flour - Marco Reus

Victoria’s Secret - Marco Reus

Toys’R’Us - Marco Reus

Off your feet - Marco Reus

My only regret - Marco Reus

Nadya - Marco Reus

Scoring - Marco Reus

Au Pair - Marco Reus

Ex/Next - Marco Reus

Smashed/Wrecked - Marco Reus

I think you need to stay - Marco Reus

Kepa Arrizabalaga

Putting him in his place

Ben Chilwell

Influence

Christian Pulisic

Lost in you (smut)

Mason Mount

Mason taking care of you on your period

Jadon Sancho

Acceptance

Erling Haaland

Tempted

Serge Gnabry

Fuck up the friendship (smut)

#masterlist #football fanfiction