#marcos llorente oneshot

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if your cascade ocean wave blues come

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 1084 Warnings: Detailed description of a panic attack, dealing with mental health struggles, smut (just teeny bit), cockwarming (if you squint) A/N: I had this idea for a while but couldn't figure out where to begin until it hit me one Sunday and I wrote the whole thing pretty much in one sitting

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You know before you even look at the clock that it’s early in the morning. It’s still pitch black, the world outside of your bedroom is very much still asleep. If only you were that lucky.  You can feel the worry gnawing at the edges of you as it takes up more and more space. Sighing, you toss and turn, trying to find the sweet spot on your pillow that will shut your brain up. It had been quiet up until the moment it woke you up, the pre-bedtime activities enough to tire you out, your anxiety riddled brain peacefully going along. Unfortunately for you, your brain wins this fight; thoughts begin running a million miles an hour and you can feel the panic slowly clawing its way into your chest and up your throat. 

You’re trying to fight the unravelling with logic, but it’s to no avail when your head keeps pelting you with what ifs and shouldn’t haves. You try to keep your breathing even, hoping that the war that’s raging in your body won’t wake up your boyfriend, but the feeling of someone squeezing your throat closed does absolutely nothing to help you do so. 

In.. out.. you tell yourself, counting your breaths as hot tears burn at the corners of your eyes and you swallow down a sob. You squeeze your eyes shut, a hand clamped over your mouth as you try every single coping strategy your therapist taught you, but nothing works –the failure only adds to the panic that’s tearing its way through you, paralysing you in the process as the only thought that crosses your mind is I can’t breathe. 

You know it’s too late to take the sleeping tablets she prescribed you with; if you take one now, you’ll be knocked out for the next 9 hours. The weighted blanket you would fall back on is still at your own flat, seeing as you had forgotten to bring it. You hadn’t thought you would need it, things had been going so well ever since you switched meds –too well apparently. Right now you could kick yourself for your optimism. Granted, things had been a lot worse at the beginning of your relationship with Marcos, where the anxiety had felt debilitating at times and you even wondered what he saw in you in the first place. Thankfully he was quick to dispel all your doubts and assure you that if anything, it made him want to love you harder, fiercer. 

Trying the breathing exercise once more, you let out a shaky breath but it’s not working. A frustrated sob escapes as an arm wraps itself around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“‘S wrong?” your boyfriend mutters in your ear, still half asleep. You try to answer him, but the panic has made it impossible to form a coherent thought. Instead you let out the sobs you’d tried to bite back. 

“Hey,” Marcos says, sounding a lot more awake now, “hey, I’ve got you.” 

You allow him to turn you around, to pull you against him. You claw at his chest, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips serving as a small reminder of what lulled you to sleep in the first place. Marcos keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear, keeps running his fingers through your hair. You can feel his heart beating in his chest where your fingertips rest against his skin. The steady thud thud thud provides you with the lifeline you need in order to break through the haze of anxiety, as you slowly, so very slowly, return into your body. You realise how tense your muscles are as you try to relax into him, how you feel an ache whenever you move your legs, serving as another reminder as to what served as a sleeping aid. 

Marcos rubs slow little circles over your shoulder, the touch enough to break through the last of the fog in your brain. Your body feels heavy all of a sudden as the tension drains out of you. Taking a deep breath, you exhale slowly, before opening your eyes. A dull ache is settling behind your eyes and you know that it’ll feel like you’ve been hit by a truck when you wake up tomorrow, but you’ll gladly deal with that over the aftermath of a full blown panic attack that would lead you down the scary spiralling thoughts rabbit hole. 

Marcos looks at you, his eyes swimming with concern and adoration for you. 

“Had an anxiety attack?” he asks and you nod.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you whisper, “just want to stop thinking.” Marcos smiles sleepily and pulls you even closer. 

“I thought you had fucked me dumb,” you confess, voice small, cheeks burning and core throbbing as more memories flood your head of how he had pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. Marcos’ chuckle reverberates through your chest and you can almost make out his cocky grin at your disguised compliment. 

“Let me try something. Am too tired to fuck you dumb as you so eloquently put it,” he says, pulling your thigh over his hip, “but maybe this’ll do the trick,” he adds and gently, so very gently nudges his semi-hard cock into you. You gasp, the feeling of him stretching you is almost overwhelming. He slides in easily, you’re still dripping from earlier with your own release mingled with his cum. Marcos holds you against him, one hand buried underneath his pillow while the other grips the fleshy part of where thigh meets hip. Your breath comes out panting as you get used to the feeling of him, fighting the urge to roll your hips.

“God, you always feel so good,” Marcos all but groans. You can’t help but moan in agreement, the feeling of being so full enough to make your brain stop whirling. It forces you to remain firmly in your body and out of your head. Marcos allows you to snuggle into him, and you let out a content little sigh as the exhaustion tugs at you. 

“Think you can sleep like this?” Marcos murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You nod, letting out a soft hum in agreement as your eyes struggle to remain open.

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Mm, more than welcome mi flor. Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, and it’s all the encouragement you need to fall asleep, feeling so warm and safe wrapped up in the cocoon his body creates for you. 

ngl, I was nervous to post this one. Having dealt with mental health problems myself (and having suffered from panic attacks), it hit a little close to home. Know that if you recognise yourself in this fic, you are worthy of help and love.

please let me know what you think, your comments are like breadcrumbs for the fanfic goblins in my brain (or maybe they're ducks. who knows?)

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente drabble #marcos llorente smut #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #atletico madrid drabble

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and it sounds just like a song

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 738 Warnings: Smut from the first paragraph, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f) A/N: I blame Atleti's admin for this, they're feeding the brain rot about this slut of a man. I wrote this in a couple of hours and barely edited it so please be kind @mercedesjpg hope you enjoy!

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He hears her before he sees her. Marcos can’t help the grin that spreads on his face as he opens the door into the living room to see his girlfriend on the couch, wearing nothing but an old Atleti t-shirt, back arching and body trembling as an orgasm tears through her. 

“What a sight to come home to,” he comments, closing the door behind him. He leans against it, arms crossed as he keeps watching her.

“All your fault,” she all but moans as she comes down, hips still bucking as she keeps the toy pressed against her clit, “oh fuck..” 

A whine leaves her mouth as she throws her head back. The vibrations against her already sensitive clit are enough to send her flying again. He can feel his cock straining against his tracksuit bottoms as he watches her. 

“How is this my fault baby, you’re the one with a vibrator against her dripping pussy,” he coos, moving closer. He takes the toy from her hand and drags it through her folds, down to her opening, collecting her wetness, before moving it back up to her clit.

“It’s your slutty behaviour. You might-.. Fuck… you might as well show up to training in speedos next time,” she manages to say as she pants. Marcos smirks and presses a button to increase the intensity of the vibrations, making her cry out as he drags it over her clit.

“Sun’s out, thighs out. Not my fault the social media team captures it every time,” he comments and keeps the toy pressed against her.

“Oh God.. Marcos.. I’m gonna.. So close…” she mumbles, as the muscles in her thighs tremble. 

“One more, let go, hermosa..” he murmurs, watching as she comes undone for the third time. 

“More.. I need-.. Please.. Marcos..” she whines, not finishing any of her sentences, thoughts inchorrent as she comes down from her high, hips moving in slow circles. 

“What do you need, baby?” he all  but purrs, turning the vibrations down to the lowest setting. 

“Need more.. Need you.. Please, fuck me.. Marcos.. Please..” He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Marcos turns the toy off, dropping it to the floor before stripping. He then helps her undress before turning her over onto her stomach. 

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” Marcos says, holding onto her hips as he slowly enters her from behind. She can only moan in return, the feeling of him stretching her almost overwhelming. 

“Please..” she whispers, fingers desperately clutching at the couch cushions. Marcos hums and sets an unrelenting pace, filling her so deep she sees stars. 

“Yes…” she moans, eyes fluttering closed as he gives her what she needs. She tilts her hips ever so slightly, making him hit that spot inside her.

“Fuck! Right there.. Don’t-.. Don’t stop…” 

“Feel so good baby. Gonna be a good girl for me and let me fuck you? Just let me use this pretty pussy?” Marcos’ words send a jolt of lust down her and she can only nod. His fingers dig into her as he gives her what she begged for. Marcos keeps murmuring praise and absolutely filthy things, half of which barely even register in her lust-clouded brain. She can feel her orgasm building. She knows it won’t be as gentle as the previous ones, they all helped build up this tidal wave that’s threatening to pull her under. Marcos is about to absolutely ruin her.

“Marcos-.. Can-.. Need.. Please can I cum?” she begs, her voice breaking with a sob of pure need. 

“That’s it baby, let go for me.. Need to feel you cum,” he all but grunts, reaching a hand down to rub tight little circles over her sensitive bud. Her orgasm washes over her, pulling her under as her vision blurs, body trembling with the intensity of it. Marcos is quick to follow, spilling into her with a groan.

As she returns into her body, she can hear the echo of someone screaming bouncing off the walls in the living room. Marcos lets go of her hips, pulling out and picking up his discarded shirt from the floor to help her clean up. She clings to him as she allows him to turn her onto her back. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes still unfocussed as she looks at him.

“Mm, you’re welcome hermosa. I love you,” he replies softly, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente drabble #ateltico de madrid fanfic #atletico de madrid oneshot #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #atletico madrid drabble

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I thought I knew what love was (what did I know?)

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 950 Warnings: Fluff, descriptions of anxiety related to public perception (minor) Request: PDA - PDA with Marcos please, and maybe it annoys people when it happens A/N: tweaked it a little bit, hope you like it!

title from First Aid Kit's The Boys of Summer

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You had never been one for public displays of affection beyond holding hands. It had always made you uncomfortable when you saw others do it, so why subject those around you to the same discomfort? Although your perspective did shift a little the moment you started dating your current boyfriend. There were times where you psychically ached to feel his lips against your skin as his lips curled up in that trademark smirk that always gave you butterflies, where your fingers itched to feel him –any part of him. You had become the thing you had always tried to avoid, and there was a small part of you that hated how needy you had become. Fortunately your boyfriend never seemed to mind; if anything he leaned heavily into it, always whispering encouragements in your ear whenever people looked at you with something you had begun to label as a milder form of disgust. Let them look baby, he’d whisper, they’re just jealous.

And maybe Marcos was right, but it was hard to not let it affect you. Whenever he leaned in to kiss you when you were around others, you’d quickly turn your head so his lips would land on your cheek or hair instead. Your heart broke a tiny bit every time he’d frown at you as his lips landed anywhere that was not your lips. The final straw was when you dropped him off for practice and you had pretty much refused to kiss him when you saw his teammates and members of staff walking towards the building. Marcos’ brows furrowed but he didn’t say a word, instead he pressed a brief kiss to your temple. The shame and hurt you felt on his behalf sat heavy in the pit of your stomach for the rest of the day, making it difficult to focus on your work. You tried your hardest to block it out, burying yourself in financial statements instead.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the Ciudad Deportiva at the end of the afternoon, Marcos was already waiting for you. You killed the engine and rolled the window down when he walked over to you.

“Come with me. Please?” he said, holding out his hand. Confused as to what he needed to show you, you got out of the car and took his hand and let him guide you into the training grounds. Most of the team was still in the dining hall, thermos of hot water littered around the room, as the boys lounged on the couches. Marcos pulled you closer, your chest pressed against his.

“I’m going to kiss you, and you’re not allowed to pull away,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, not knowing how else to respond. Marcos smiled that cheeky smile that always sent your heart racing and titled your face ever so slightly with a forefinger under your chin. His lips brushed against yours and your eyes fluttered closed, fingers curling into fists around the material of his long-sleeved training shirt. He hummed, deepening the kiss. You melted into him, still holding onto his shirt. The room around you faded to nothing, you were solely focussed on the feeling of Marcos’ lips on yours –tongue seeking entrance, of the way his hands squeezed your hips, of how the scent of his cologne enveloped you both. You broke the kiss, needing to come up for air, cheeks heating up. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there for a moment as you gathered your thoughts and tried to get your racing heart back under control. Marcos turned you to look at the room.

“See that?” he murmured in your ear as you looked at his teammates. You tried to figure out if anything had changed, but they were all still engrossed in their own conversations or phones.

“See what?” you asked, confused as to what he meant.

“Exactly,” Marcos said, “Anyone mind if I just stand here and kiss my girlfriend for a while?” he then asked his teammates. You would’ve covered his mouth with your hand if you had been able to, but Marcos had you pinned to his body. All you could do was stand there, horrified at the brashness of your boyfriend. 

“Just don’t block the exit and if you decide to pull a Rodri, please do it somewhere I won’t have to see. Once was bad enough,” Jan commented as he walked past you. 

“Oi, that’s on you for barging in without knocking first!” Rodrigo replied, his voice laced with humour at his friend’s discomfort. 

“You decided to use the physio room for a mid-training session quickie, how was I supposed to know? Those doors come with locks, use ‘em,” Jan retorted, eyebrow raised. 

You stood there, watching them bicker and tease one another as if it was a tennis match. You felt rather than heard Marcos’ chuckle as he pulled you closer again. 

“Please, never turn away from my kisses again? I love you and I want to be able to show you just how much. The people who matter don’t mind, and those that mind don’t matter,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You nodded and hid your face in his chest.

“‘M sorry… I should’ve talked to you about how I was feeling instead of shutting you out. Am just not used to PDA, so it might take me a while. I want to, I want nothing more than to kiss you whenever I feel like it, but just.. Baby steps?” you all but whispered. 

“Baby steps,” Marcos promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente drabble #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #atletico madrid drabble #boyfriend material fics

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a holly jolly christmas

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 698 Warnings: None, fluff Request: Christmas baking - do it the way you like This might be one of the most domestic fics I've written in a while. Had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you like it anon!

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The scent of cinnamon and ginger greeted him when he walked in the door.

“Babe?” Marcos called out, dropping his training gear by the stairs to be taken up later.

“Kitchen! Did you get my text?” 

“Yeah, found the sugar,” he replied as he walked into the kitchen, placing the sugar on the counter. She threw a smile at him over her shoulder as she placed a rack into the oven.

“I could swear we had more in the pantry,” she commented, turning around and setting the timer.

“Who are you planning on feeding?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I promised to take some to Mrs. Álvarez, the neighbours are getting some instead of a gift as well. Antoine wanted a box, so did Jan and Koke. Oh, and Cholo wanted some as well!” Marcos' heart swelled at her excitement. She worked at the library and was responsible for setting up the reading programmes at the local primary schools, but loved baking and had always joked that if the library had to close down due to budget cuts, she’d start her own bakery. When his teammates realised she was also really good at it, they had been quick to take her up on the offer to buy small batches of holiday treats from her. 

“Of course Anto asked for your gingerbread biscuits,” Marcos commented, wiping away a dusting of flour from her cheek. “Can I help?” She shook her head. 

“No, not right now. How about you go shower and I’ll get the second batch going,” she said. Marcos gave her a quick kiss and went upstairs. 

With his hair still wet, but now dressed in his favourite joggers and threadbare jumper, Marcos rejoined her in the kitchen. She was swaying ever so slightly to the Christmas music playing in the background as she weighed out the flour. Marcos smiled and tied an apron around himself as he came standing next to her.

“Alright, put me to work,” he said and quickly washed his hands.

“Could you roll out the dough that’s in the fridge and then cut out the biscuits? There’s cutters over there. Just choose one you like,” she said, pointing to her right. Marcos nodded and got the dough out of the fridge, grabbing the rolling pin as well. His parents had gifted her one for her birthday with spacing bands to help roll out the dough evenly and to the right thickness. 

“How was training?” she asked, turning on her stand mixer.

“Cold. Like, I know we’re nearing winter, but it always catches me off guard when the temperature drops below 10 degrees,” Marcos said while rolling out the dough. She chuckled, looking up at him. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t play for an English or German club, babe.” Marcos stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh. 

“But other than cold, it was good. Got two more sessions left before the final game of the year.” 

“And the Christmas party! Did you manage to talk to Álvaro about carpooling?”

Marcos nodded and put the rolling pin down. “I did, he said he would ask his wife and let me know either tonight or tomorrow. Snowflake or Christmas tree?” 

“Uhm, the trees I think. They’re easier to decorate for children, so we can put a few of those in the box for Anto,” she replied, turning off the mixer and wrapping the dough in cling film to chill. Wiping her hands on her apron, she joined him and helped move the cut out biscuits to a baking tray. 

They worked in relative quiet for a while until the first three batches of gingerbread biscuits had come out of the oven and were cooling on the counter. 

“Thanks for helping,” she said, leaning against him for a brief moment. Marcos smiled, wrapping his arms around her. He brushed more flour off her forehead and leaned down to kiss her.

“Anytime babe,” he murmured, which got him a smile in return that made his heart flutter. Although he wasn’t much of a baker himself, he’d always make time to help and support her the same way she always did for him and his career. 

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass

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#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente drabble #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #atletico madrid drabble #12 days of fluffmas

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Bonfires

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 1104 Requested: No Warnings: None, fluff, friends to lovers A/N: This is my first fic for Llorente, please let me know what you think! 🧡 a big thank you to @theflyingfeeling for being my beta reader

Autumn masterlist

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She loved this time of year. The days were still warm enough where it felt like summer would go on forever, but the evenings had started to get a nip to them as soon as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Most of her friends had gone home already after helping her renovate her new house, so now it was just her and four of her best friends. Jan had decided to build a bonfire in the firepit in her new garden. Two of her friends had offered to quickly run to the store when Jan suggested it to get supplies for s’mores. Which left her and Marcos to clear up after a take away dinner. 

Being alone with him made her nervous. Not because he made her nervous, but because she had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. The only person who knew was her best friend Julia who had –very unhelpfully– joined Antoine, giving her a wink as she walked out the door. She groaned internally, wishing she had never told Julia. 

“So, how’s work been?” Marcos asked her, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Good. Busy, for sure, but good. How about you? Looking forward to the Champions League match?” she replied, scrubbing at a stain on a plate. Marcos leant against the counter, facing away from the sink as he waited for her to pass him the clean dishes.

“I love playing in different countries. It’s exhausting, don’t get me wrong, and I sometimes wish we’d spend more time in each place, but it’s the Champions League. That’s massive,” he mused, drying the plate she handed him. 

“We see an uptick in sales every year when a Spanish club makes it to the group stages, it’s wild how far fans are willing to travel,” she said as she emptied the washing-up tub and rinsed it out. 

“It’s always great to know that the fans are with us, it’s often what makes us work even harder on the pitch,” Marcos said and hung the tea towel to dry. She smiled at his answer and dried her hands. He helped her by carrying out glasses and drinks while she pulled a few throw blankets out of the chest she used as a coffee table. Now the sun was gone, it had gotten chilly outside. Antoine and Julia came busting through the front door in fits of giggles.

“Anto got the biggest marshmallows he could find in the store. Please someone tell him they’re not gonna fit on the graham crackers?” 

“They’re gonna melt, it’ll fit!” Antoine replied, arms full with bags of marshmallows and chocolate bars. Julia rolled her eyes but followed him outside with a few boxes of crackers and metal skewers. She followed them outside with the blankets, shaking her head. The four of them had already picked their seats, leaving her a spot next to Marcos. She glared at Julia who blew her a kiss. She gratefully accepted the wine Jan offered her and took a large sip hoping it would calm her nerves as she sat down next to Marcos on the bench.

 Julia and Antoine were still bickering over the size of the marshmallows as they roasted them over the fire. In that regard Julia and Anto were perfect for each other, and having been together for several years now should be enough evidence that they were. Jan on the other hand was the calm in the storm, the voice of logic if you will. She loved him dearly for it. And then there was Marcos, who was somewhere between Antoine and Jan; he loved to tease, but would drop everything in a heartbeat if you needed him. 

“Here,” Marcos said quietly, offering her one of the s’more he’d made. She gratefully accepted and took a bite of the gooey treat. She moaned softly when the melted chocolate hit her tongue. For a moment she could swear something flashed across Marcos’ face, something that caught her off guard. Was she imaging things or was that a look of want? Surely it was the former; the alcohol was playing tricks on her or the flames dancing over his face cast a shadow. That was the only logical explanation she decided. She shouldn’t have accepted that second glass of wine. 

“You have something-...” she said, not finishing her sentence as her thumb brushed against the corner of his mouth wiping away some of the melted chocolate. She didn’t know what hit her, but she sucked the pad of her finger into her mouth, licking the chocolate off. Marcos’ breath seemed to hitch, his eyes darkening for a second. His throat bobbed as he glanced down at her lips and back up. It made no damn sense. Why would he be looking at me like that, she thought. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Marcos’ face seemed to move closer.

“Just kiss her already! Ow!” Antoine said. She broke the spell Marcos had on her by looking over to her friends. Antoine was rubbing his ribs where Jan had elbowed him. 

“I-.. I don’t understand… You-..?”

“Have the biggest crush on you,” Marcos interrupted, “have done for years. I wasn’t sure whether you felt the same way and I was too scared to lose you as a friend to ask.” 

“Marcos..” she said, not knowing how to respond to his admission. 

“I understand if you don’t-..” She interrupted him this time by kissing him. It was brief, a chaste brush of her lips against his to convey what she couldn’t tell him –that she felt the same about him. Marcos let out a startled noise but was quick to chase her lips after she pulled away. Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her, his hand resting against her cheek. Where hers had been tentative, his was full of conviction. Marcos tilted her face, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Her hands took hold of his hoodie as if to ground herself in reality, to make sure that this was really happening. Marcos rested his forehead against hers after he broke their kiss. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Probably as long as I have,” she admitted, still feeling a little breathless. Marcos smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss. He pulled her closer to him on the bench they were sitting on, wrapping an arm around her. She sighed contently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, reminding her that yes, this was really happening. She huffed a laugh, staring into the flames. Who would’ve thought a new house would come with a new boyfriend?

#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #atletico madrid drabble #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente drabble #antoine griezman fanfic #antoine griezman oneshot #antoine griezman drabble #autumn prompts

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Posting schedule

I've decided to change the times and see if it makes a difference. I'm still figuring things out. There are two autumn prompts left: picking Halloween costumes and baking. If you'd like to read something involving your favourite player, let me know! I have an idea for muddy puddles based on something @kostasstsimikass said so babe keep your eyes peeled 👀

This coming week I have two autumn fics planned and I want to share my idea for Christmas

7/11 Christmas prompts - 18:00CET 8/11 Autumn prompts: Blackberry picking (Mats Hummels) 18:00CET 10/11 Autumn prompts: Bonfires (Marcos Llorente) 18:00CET

#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #mats hummels fanfic #mats hummels oneshot #marcos llorente oneshot #marcos llorente fanfic

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because I fell in love with your marcos llorente fic

I am begging for one with 💚 or 🤎 or 🤍

Thank you so much ives 🧡

you're half of me

Pairing: Marcos Llorente x fem!reader Words: 1066 Warnings: none, weddings In which you and Marcos tie the knot

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Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d end up here. Well, that’s not entirely true, you’d just never imagine yourself in this role, be on this side of the story. Your hands feel clammy and your heart is racing as nerves settle in the hollow of your chest. It’s a good kind of nervousness for a change, there’s an excitement there that reminds you of childhood, of jumping off a cliff without knowing whether the water would be cold or warm as you dive in, head first. Taking another steadying breath, you tighten your grip on your bouquet and lift your eyes when the doors open. The string quartet is playing the song the two of you had picked out, a song that meant so much to the both of you. You can hear the ends of conversations die down as the people the two of you love so dearly talk in hushed voices. You can see both your families, recognise all of his teammates and their partners, spot a couple of your closest friends but it all fades to the background when your eyes adjust to the late afternoon sun and your eyes meet his. Marcos. 

He looks good in his suit, the navy blue matching the ocean lapping away just beyond the walls of the finca you had chosen as the backdrop for this day. His hair is styled to perfection, and he gives you this smile that is half mischief, half soft adoration, and it leaves you with butterflies in your stomach similar to that moment you realised you had fallen deeply in love with him. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to see him as tears threaten to spill over your lash line. Marcos holds out a hand, biting his lip now, and you can tell through the haze of unshed tears that he is just as choked up as you are. You pass your bouquet to your best friend and take Marcos’ hand in yours. You watch as he takes in all the little details of your dress, the delicate embroidery all over the soft ivory chiffon fabric and lace trim of the short sleeves, the way the neckline plunges until just below your sternum where the fabric flows all the way down with tiny buttons running down until just below your knees. It’s perhaps sexier than you ever dared to imagine yourself wearing, but from the moment you laid eyes on it, you knew it was meant to be your dress. 

“God, you’re so beautiful mi flor,” he sighs, sounding almost reverent as the setting sun twinkles in his eyes, reminding you of how it would glitter on the surface of the ocean, as it highlights his features in liquid gold.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, either,” you reply softly, almost drowning in the blue of his eyes. He squeezes your hand as you both turn towards the officiant. 

The whole ceremony washes over you in a blur of laughter and barely choked back tears. You manage to keep it together until it’s time to exchange vows. Marcos signals with a squeeze for you to go first. Clearing your throat, you take the paper from the officiant.

“My dearest Marcos, I won’t lie and say that it was easy to write all of this. How do you tell the person you can’t imagine doing life without what they mean to you? And then I found this poem that says exactly how I feel about you,” you start before swallowing around a lump in your throat, “I crave you, /I crave you in the most innocent form / To take long walks with you in the dawn / And watch the day break with your hand in mine / To watch your eyes when they look at me / I crave you, / I crave you to place kisses on my forehead / And to watch you sleep in my arms on stormy nights / To say goodnight to you every day of my life / To hear you say you still adore me even at my worst / Damn… I crave you, / In ways that I just want to be next to you / And that if I had to choose my best day ever / My finest hour.. My wildest dream come true / It would be with you… / over and over / again and again / through and through.” 

You fold the paper in half again, giving it to the officiant before you slide the gold band in place. Marcos gives your fingers another squeeze, brushing away your tears with his thumb. He then pulls a sheet of folded paper from the inside pocket of his blazer.

“I also struggled to find the words to express how absolutely head-over-heels in love I am with you, until I remembered you reading me this poem when we spent a rainy morning in bed,” Marcos says, taking a steadying breath, “I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, / or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: / I love you as one loves certain obscure things, / secretly, between the shadow and the soul. / I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  / I love you directly without problems or pride: / I love you like this because I don’t know any other way / to love, / except in this form in which I am not nor are you, / so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, / so close that your eyes close with my dreams.” 

As soon as Marcos started reading your favourite poem by your favourite poet, you were in floods, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. The fact that he remembered something you had told him during the beginning of your relationship fills you with such warmth; it makes you feel both seen and heard. Marcos puts his vows back in his pocket and takes the other ring, sliding it in place below your engagement ring. It barely registers when the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, but Marcos is quick to pull you closer. He gently rests his hands against your cheeks, fingers curling around your jaw as he kisses you with such a deep undercurrent of love and admiration, it makes your head spin, leaving you breathless. You wrap your hands around his wrists, tethering yourself to him in a similar way to the gold around your fingers will forever symbolise. 

It's been a while since I wrote a wedding, and while it's always tricky to figure out certain elements/details, I do love it so thank your for giving me the opportunity!

The poems referenced are I Crave You by Esther Haddasah Sendeza and Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me

Wrote this as part of a kisses challenge I'm taking part in this year. Feel free to send in a request or suggestions!

#football fanfic #football oneshot #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente one shot #marcos llorente x reader #marcos llorente x you #marcos llorente fluff #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #ivy asks

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Prompts

in bold have already been requested

Decorating the tree

Dancing in the snow

Present shopping

Gift giving

Making a gingerbread house

Snowball fight

Mistletoe

Christmas baking

Christmas market

Making snowmen

Watching Christmas movies

Dancing to Christmas music

Requested so far

Kostas Tsimikas

Queen Anne/Aramis

Andy Robertson

Virgil van Dijk

Antoine Griezmann

Rodrigo De Paul

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Darwin Nunez

Ruben Dias

Marcos Llorente

Fernando Torres

John Stones

Kostas Tsimikas

#12 days of fluffmas #football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #antoine griezmann fanfic #rodrigo de paul fanfic #marcos llorente fanfic #jordan henderson fanfic #andy robertson fanfic #kostas tsimikas fanfic #thiago alcantara fanfic #virgil van dijk fanfic #trent alexander-arnold fanfic

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Marcos Llorente masterlist

Oneshots

Bonfires a holly jolly Christmas I thought I knew what love was (what did I know?) you're half of me

Smut

and it sounds just like a song if your cascade ocean wave blues come

#marcos llorente fanfic

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What inspires you to write your fics?

Which footballers (past/present) would you put into this current liverpool squad? Please include obligatory sexy photo of said footballers!

What is something about you hate about growing older? Conversely, what’s something you love about it?

First of, these are all excellent questions so thank you Anon!

What inspires you to write your fics?

It's a plethora of things really. Sometimes it's a song (great example is this one), sometimes it's just going down a rabbit hole of what would happen ifs, which is what happened with the RDP oneshot I posted earlier this week. The inspiration or the pulling of the first thread to unravel the plot usually happens either late at night, or when I'm out for a walk. I wrote a lot of the first chapters of want you more than a melody while on a walk listening to music. But sometimes it's just observations. For example, I got the idea for one of the autumn fics while I was reading in bed and then when I watched Borussia Dortmund's Inside Champions League video on their away leg against ManCity I knew it had to be about Mats (the sleuthing that went into figuring out which book Mats was carrying around with him 😅)

Which footballers (past/present) would you put into this current liverpool squad? Please include obligatory sexy photo of said footballers!

The first name that came to mind was Daniel Agger. That man is one of my weaknesses

Given our current midfield situation, I'd love for us to sign Jude Bellingham (although I'm torn on this one because I also love Borussia Dortmund)

No sexy photo of Jude because he's still a baby

I wouldn't mind Marcos Llorente signing for LFC (again, torn because Atleti)

And for the love of all things Liverpool, Xabi come back we need you

This one I know will never happen, but I wouldn't be mad at us signing Ødegaard

And if Atleti are putting him on the list anyway, I'd gladly take Rodrigo de Paul

I am on my knees, no words, no thoughts, just brain goes brrrrrr

What is something about you hate about growing older? Conversely, what’s something you love about it?

I hate how my body aches sometimes (although now that I started seeing a chiropractor, I feel much better). I also hate how everything costs money??? Why is everything so expensive??? I hate how much more aware I've become of how fucked up the world is rn and how fucking powerless I am in doing anything about it because a) it's on the other side of the planet and I don't know where to begin and b) white men in power couldn't give two shits about what needs to change and why because it doesn't affect them and it's infuriating.

What I love about growing older is how much less of a shit I give about stuff. I remember not wanting to be That Girl™ when I was 14, 15 maybe? Not wanting anything pink or fluffy or what could remotely be seen as "feminine". Let me tell you, I stopped myself from having so much joy because of societal norms. I realised I love sparkly things, pink things, I've discovered romance novels and have been tearing through them as if I'm making up for lost time. I will also unashamedly jump in puddles and kick piles of leaves. Live is too short to not enjoy it, so why would I deprive myself of things that give me so much joy?

Thank you anon! 🥰

#ask #anonymous #about me