petitommo
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Here they are. Four wins under their belt, and an updated itinerary in their email—they’re heading for Miami tomorrow.
He drags blunt nails over the rough plastic, lets the little small black beads embed themselves under his fingernails, watches as they fly in every direction from his intervening fingers. And as he does it, he thanks God, sends all the love in him to his saviour and prays.
Wonders if maybe God won’t help him forget the fact that he’d wanted to kiss Oscar Bobb in front of eighty two thousand people.
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The aftermath of their win against Brazil is unlike anything Erling has ever dared dream of. There's rowing and drinking and endless public celebrations, but Erling's personal favourite is having Jude Bellingham in his bed, squared away in a Miami hotel room.
Ready and willing and his for the taking.
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Erling Haaland is not nervous about Brazil.
No, what's much more nerve-wracking is seeing Jude Bellingham standing in front of him, shy and uncertain, and so unfairly gorgeous.
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The reality of spending Christmas with Louis’ family doesn’t really hit him until a few days later. And when it finally does, he cannot stop thinking about it.
Distracted by having Louis’ full attention on him, he hadn’t given it much thought that first weekend. Instead, he’d kept all his focus on Louis; spending hours too long in bed in the mornings, wrapped around each other, making out lazily and rubbing off against each others thighs; taking too long to cook up dinner in the evenings because Louis would rather drag Harry into another kiss than help him chop vegetables, laughing smugly every time Harry would turn the stove off with a defeated sigh and let himself be dragged into him, trapped between splayed thighs.or, counting Fridays until Christmas Morning
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- Part 2 of these friday nights
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Right there, less than an arms length away, stands his Louis; tan and gorgeous with his hair sticking up in every direction and the faint stench of weed like a cloud around him. A pillow crease is running down his cheek, and Harry’s heart clenches with something he has no adequate name for.
“What are you doing here?”
Louis’ voice jolts Harry out of his frozen state, shocked alive by the reminder of why he is here. His nerves soars abruptly when he remembers he’s standing at Louis’ door with love in his heart and anger in his veins. He exhales roughly through his nose, inhaling so deep his lungs burn before he gets the words out in a faint whoosh. “I listened to your album,” he starts.
or, Louis and Harry run into each other at the GRAMMYs, and there's more than just awards taken home that night.
Recent series
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gonna beat Brazil again, not afraid of Englishmen by petitommo
Fandom Men's Football RPF
11 Jul 2026
- Words:
- 12,698
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 49
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Summary
And every Friday night, Harry welcomes him back into his arms. Every Friday night, Louis invites him in; accepts his love and his heart and his soul. And for every Friday night forwards, Harry swears to keep him close; in his arms, in his heart, in his soul. The two of them, and them alone.
Every Friday night—he’s in love.
- Words:
- 52,849
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 10
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Summary
After England is knocked out of the World Cup, Jude Bellingham asks Erling Haaland to help him get out of his head so he can forget about the loss. Erling will do anything for his boy and is more than happy to help.
"Please, sir."
The title sends heat up Erling's spine and snaps him into action. He reaches out for Jude, and this time Jude doesn't try to retreat. He lets himself be dragged forwards a few paces until they're chest to chest. Erling grips Jude's chin between his thumb and pointer finger, roughly pulling his head up and forcing Jude to make eye contact.
"I won't go easy on you," Erling says. He's giving Jude an out. He wants to make sure Jude wants this as desperately as he does.
"I know," Jude replies. "I want it."
Bookmarked by petitommo
12 Jul 2026