Campeones - Jude Bellingham X Reader

Campeones - Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary: reader wants to remain professional as she interviews Jude after he’s just won the Champions League with Real Madrid, but all he wants to do, is kiss her.

Part 2 of ‘Who are you?’ (Read part 1 here)👈🏻. Can be read as a stand alone but I’d suggest reading part one first.

A/n: I’m so proud I could cry. My Jude Bellingham Masterlist <-

-

White shirts poured onto the pitch the very moment that final whistle blew.

Cheers erupted all around Wembley stadium as you were escorted by a security guard from the media pen and all the way down to the pitch side within a minute of Real Madrid winning the Champions League.

Following your interview with Jude a month ago, you’d been calling each other almost everyday after he finally gave up texting you on instagram and gave you his number.

You were enamoured with each other, utterly obsessed even, to the point where you’d found yourself well acquainted with his family as whenever you’d be on FaceTime, they quite often would walk into frame and speak to you, especially his little brother, Jobe.

It was only a matter of days before you’d developed romantic feelings for him, and even less for him to like you.

So naturally, the two of you had entered a relationship shortly after Jude had confessed his feelings to you while drunk following the La Liga trophy parade.

Whilst your romantic life was blooming, so was your career.

You’d caught the attention of TNT Sports in the way that you’d handled yourself in the face of criticism and how well you’d come across as a result of the excellence of your questions in the post match interview where you and Jude had met.

They offered you a full-time job there next season, as long as you agreed to do the post-match interviews after the Champions League final.

The moment you’d told Jude about his offer, he was screaming down the phone in excitement over the prospect of you being there for him, so long as Real Madrid beat Bayern Munich in the Semi-finals.

They, of course, did.

So here you are, stood pitch side while you watch your new boyfriend jump around with his teammates after winning his first UCL.

Had you not been working and attempting to save professional face, you would’ve been crying just like Jude is.

“One minute until we are live on air” you hear a sound engineer say in your ear piece, a microphone pack having been attached to you moments ago.

“Copy that” you affirm as you hold two TNT sports labelled microphones in your hands, just waiting for the moment you get the green light to go and interview some players.

Your eyes never leave Jude as you watch him with pride, your team noticing.

“Try to keep it professional, okay? The fans loved the two of you after your last interview but they’d love you more if they got to hear from Jude properly” a man you’d grown familiar with recently jests with you.

You laugh at him and nod your head, “I’ll try”.

“Okay, you can enter the pitch now” you hear in your ear and all of a sudden, journalists flood the pitch just begging for a few seconds with the players in white.

“Who am I aiming for?” You ask your team as the camera man follows you onto the pitch.

“Who do you think?” They chuckle and you know who instantly.

Jude.

Professional. Professional. Professional.

You chant in your head, but it’s not you you’re worried about, it’s him.

The world had found out about the two of you as Jude had posted a picture of his garden on his story a few weeks ago, the only problem? It had the reflection of you cuddled into his side in the glass door.

You walk up to him, not having to walk far as he’d been looking for you the moment that whistle blew.

“Jude, may i get a few words from you?” You ask him, the camera having started rolling as he’d made his way over to you.

“For you, of course” he smiles as you hand him one of the two microphones you had. As you did, you subtly tapped his hand and widened your eyes at him, silently scolding him.

He laughs, of course.

“Jude Bellingham, Champions League winner. How does that feel?” You ask him, choosing simpler questions as it’s clear his head is foggy with emotion.

At your words, his eyes glass over and a new wave of tears fights to fall.

He opens his mouth, closes it again. And repeats that a few times while looking over your head, trying to avoid eye contact.

He’s speechless, that’s all there was to say. But you didn’t want to push him, you wanted to let him take the moment in.

“Y/n” you hear in your ear piece, but you ignore it.

“Sorry” he turns back to you, “I’ve just seen my mum, dad and brother in the crowd and honestly…I can’t describe the feeling. It’s all we’ve ever dreamed of. They’ve done so much for me, sacrificed so much for me. I just hope I’ve made it up to them” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know you have” oops. “Everyone knows you have. You’ve had an incredible debut season with Madrid and made a name for yourself amongst the stars. What does this mean for you?” You recover.

But Jude hasn’t, he’s smirking.

Smirking so wide and obnoxiously at your little slip up that you want to kiss that little grin away. But alas, you can’t.

“Yeah, I mean it’s obviously incredible for my first season, for the team” he says and he can’t hold back his laugh. When he sees your stern gaze, he attempts to get the ball rolling again.

“Sorry, yeah but i can’t wait for next season. Getting back on it and hopefully winning more trophies” he says and you can tell that’s all you’re getting out of him in this moment in time.

“Thank you so much, Jude. Enjoy your celebrations this evening” you say nodding at him and turning away from him after reclaiming the microphone.

The camera man pans to the crowd for a moment and before you can finish scanning the crowd of players and media on the pitch for your next victim, you feel hands gripping your waist.

You squeal, your head whipping over your shoulder to see Jude, that same smirk on his face.

His hands slide across your stomach until he is simply hugging you from behind, you’d normally be grossed out by his sweat but you think you can ignore it just this once.

“Trying to get rid of me that quickly, baby” he says, his voice filled with humour.

“I told you to keep it professional” you said as you turn around in his arms, picking a little piece of grass out of his hair as he admires you adoringly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so happy and excited and then seeing you…I just wanted to kiss you the whole time” he says, he looks so sweet and innocent and happy.

Your heart melts at the sight as you smile, letting your hands drift across the expanse of his broad shoulders and up around the back of his neck as his arms remain around your waist.

“So kiss me then” you whisper, and he needs to more encouragement.

His lips are soft and plump in contrast with the passion in which he is kissing you as you hear cheers from his teammates at the two of you.

You both smile and break out of the kiss as Jude raises his middle finger up at Vini, Cama and Tchouameni.

As that was happening however, the camera man had turned back to where he thought you were before he had panned the camera to the crowd, and with that, the camera turned as well…

Right on the two of you embracing in a heated kiss in the middle of the pitch at Wembley stadium.

A fact you become all too aware of when you hear your in-ear piece activate again.

“Whatever happened to professional?” Your team says and before you can even think about replying, Jude has ripped the ear piece out and embraced you in an even deeper kiss.

You just hope you have a job after this, although nothing could make you any happier than how you feel right now, in the arms of the boy you love. A champions league winner.

Who are you? - Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary: Reader is a sports journalist at TNT Sports for a few months. In a post match interview, another interviewer criticises reader and Jude springs to defend her. Inspired by that clip of Lando Norris 🤍

A/n: requests are open while I have the motivation + check out my masterlist

-

The match had just ended. Real Madrid and Manchester City both with one goal each, Madrid winning on penalties.

The atmosphere in the Etihad louder than normal, the city fans quieter than the away fans like they normally are in Premier League games.

The Madridistas sounded like they were having a party in their end, music playing, crowds screaming and chanting as the players were celebrating alongside them.

You were down pitch side having been moved their from the media box during the penalty shootout.

There were about ten journalists, including yourself, all with official lanyards, notebooks, your questions you’d prepared for every player as you still didn’t know who you were to interview.

You were overall in a good mood, but the nerves were eating at you. It was your first sports journalism job since you got the apprenticeship with TNT sports during the Champions League. You weren’t supposed to be the one interviewing, you were just supposed to shadow someone from the company but they were ill and no one else was available to do it. So to say the pressure is on, is no exaggeration.

These nerves only worsened when you realised the other nine journalists were male, old and all stood a few metres away in a little group.

You felt like you were back in school with all their little whispers and glances at you.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about how pathetic they were as grown men leaving out a young woman.

If you weren’t in an apprenticeship and you weren’t professional, you would’ve said something, but you told yourself to bite your tongue.

You decided to take the time you had by yourself to read over your questions and review your notes on the match seeing if there’s anything you need to change.

After a few minutes and floods of city fans exiting the stadium, a member of the stadium team comes over to you.

“You’ll be interviewing Jude Bellingham first, but that’s the only interview we can give you today I’m afraid.” The older man says to you sweetly.

“Okay, no worries. How long?” You smile.

“The interview will be in a few minutes after they get the media set up ready and keep it between 2-3 minutes please” he says before walking away and going over to the group of the other journalists, all looking over at you.

You smile and wave at them sarcastically, in response to their hostile glances. You said you’d be profession, not that you wouldn’t be petty.

You head over the the edge of the pitch, set up with a board of all the sponsors logos and a huge camera a metre or two in front of it, there are wires all over the floor leading to a generator behind the barricades at the edge of the pitch.

“Y/n y/l/n?” The engineers ask your name.

“That’s me” you affirm while holding up your lanyard with proof.

“Here’s your microphone” the lady says while handing a mic to you with TNT sports on it.

“Thank you” you reply with a smile and take the microphone in your hand, placing everything but your questions for Jude on the floor by the media set up.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to interview Jude, you weren’t blind and from previous interviews you’d watched, he gives good answers.

You read over your questions one last time before you see a talk figure heading your way.

“Rolling in one minute” an engineer says as you meet Jude’s eye.

He grabs the other microphone from the engineer and takes his place between the camera and the sponsor board.

He looks at you, a hint of curiosity in his eye.

“I’ve not seen you before. I’m Jude” he says and holds his hand out for you to shake. You smile in return before reaching your hand out and making contact with his.

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze and your hands stay enclosed for a few seconds before you realise you still haven’t said your name.

“Oh, I’m y/n y/L/n. I’m on an apprenticeship currently, my first interview. It’s nice to meet you” you explain as he lets go of your hand, slightly laughing at you.

“Yeah, you too” he smiles.

“Well played today” you say, hating awkward silences.

“Thank you, it was a good game” he seems very attentive and engaged in whatever you had to say, something you hadn’t seen with other players and interviewers. It was nice to feel heard in an industry where women are often hushed.

“Okay, whenever your ready” the interviewer says, and in an instant, your nervous demeanour switched to one solely of professionalism, something Jude noticed and was largely intrigued by.

“Hi, Jude. So, you’ve had a bit of time to reflect on the match now. Hod do you feel about the team’s overall performance?” You ask him.

He nods during your question, absorbing every word you say.

“Yeah, I think the team put a good shift in overall. Manchester City is a difficult team to play against, you know when you think you’re through on goal you’ve got more defenders running at you. So in a goal scoring sense, we probably good have done better and not miss so many chances but defensively I think we were quite strong.” He says, it’s interesting how his maturer personality comes out during interviews as opposed to his boyish persona beforehand.

“Other than their goal, of course.” He slightly smiles, like feeling much better about it in hindsight than he did during the moment.

“Sure” you politely laugh at his joke, “as a result of that goal, obviously, it ended up going to penalties, how confident were you going into that?”

He purses his lips as he thinks about his answer, his eyes wondering around the crowd of Madridistas behind you.

“I had no doubt that we had some incredible penalty takers. Experienced ones as well with good heads on them so in terms of our capabilities, I was confident. On the other hand, we were against City, a team with various goal scorers and arguably one of the best keepers in the world at the moment so of course we couldn’t underestimate them.” He nods at you.

“Okay, thank you, Jude. One more question before I have to go, going into the Semi-final, you’re playing against Bayern Munich, a side which you’re largely familiar playing against of course. You’re main rivals last season at Dortmund. Is there anything you picked up on in your performance tonight that you know Bayern will capitalise on if repeated?” You ask, one thing you always pride yourself on is how in depth your research is before an interview, the person you’re shadowing has taken a few of your questions during your apprenticeship.

Jude seems impressed as the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly in a smile.

“You ask the best questions, they’re making me have to think” he says with a laugh.

Before you can thank him, a rough and deep voice startles you from behind, “no she doesn’t”

You turn your head to see one of the other journalists, your heart starts to beat quicker and the nerves kick back in. You start to think you need to defend yourself but you can’t find the words, shocked at how rude he was.

“Sorry, who are you?” Jude looks past you and says the man, his face scrunched up in anger, he can’t even fathom how someone could be so rude and have no shame about it.

You turn to Jude to look at him, his posture and body language changing to a defensive one. You silently thank him as the man retreats, his fave dropping as he senses no humour in Jude’s tone.

Jude glares at him for a little bit longer before turning back to you with concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright? I meant what I said” he tells you and you smile before nodding.

“Reckon I could get an answer to that question?” You ask, poking fun at the altercation.

“Yeah sure” he laughs with you.

“I think if we aren’t more clinical in front of goal then Bayern can obviously punish us with that now they have Harry Kane up front” he replies and you nod, agreeing with him.

“Perfect, thank you so much.” You say smiling at him before the camera is cut.

“Okay, this way please” the engineer says to you, ushering you away from the media spot.

You follow her, smiling one last time at Jude before heading towards the exit.

“Wait” you hear Jude call from behind you, you stop in your tracks and slowly turn around.

“Jude, you need to do another interview” the engineer calls to him as he jogs over to you.

“I don’t want to have one with him anyway” he replies back, referencing the man that insulted you.

You laugh at him as he finally reaches you.

“Can i have your instagram please?” He asks, he seems shy now and you have to bite your lip so as to not smile.

“Instagram?” You tease him.

“My mum doesn’t let me give people my number, only family and friends can have it” he says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“My username is just my name” you say before you turn to walk away.

“Okay! Look out for my follow” he shouts as he runs back to the media set up.

The both of you are left with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your stomach.

sweetie pie

lmao

Family's Growing

Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kylian has baby fever, dirty thoughts, baby talk, breeding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding/pregnancy kink goes burrrr, daddy used in a sexual context, begging, creampies, finger fucking and sucking lol, cum play.

Word Count: 1,615

Author's Note: okay I'm finally back on track with these - yes I know Tuesday is over but please look past that lol.

merry smutmas series

--

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

Christmas was a time for family and that seemed to be the only thing on your boyfriend's mind.

The two of you had gone over to his parents' place for Christmas dinner, all of his cousins were there as well as their kids. Kylian was not the favourite uncle for no reason, all of them knew they were getting good gifts in bountiful amounts too.

The tree in the living room that was once full with presents were now opened, the floor covered in wrapping paper. It was only two kids, his cousin's son and daughter, and Ethan if you counted him as well; and yet, it seemed like Kylian had bought the entirety of Paris for them.

Kylian watches as you lay on the floor with his niece and nephew, the three of you putting together a tower made of legos, whispering and giggling as you built the tower.

He smiles to himself as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. A part of him isn't sure what he did to be so lucky, to have a career as great as his and to have a girlfriend who's so loving and kind and supportive. You loved his family like your own, right now was a prime example.

Seeing you with kids always did something for him, you had a maternal nature about you, anyone who met you could see that.

The thought crossed his mind many times, how nice it would be to start a family with you. You two had spoken about it ages ago, when you began dating. You both decided that you'd revisit the idea when you were more stable in life and that you were now. Both you and Kylian were stable in careers, you two lived together, you had been together for a while and you had the means to raise a child.

He couldn't see where it would be a no.

As much as he wanted a kid with you, the idea of making a kid was much more appealing.

Clothes on the floor, hands all over each other, watching as you begged him to cu- "You okay?" Ethan asks his older brother, breaking his thought.

Kylian clears his throat. "Yeah," he nods, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder at him.

"They love her," Ethan nods towards you with the kids, "y/n's always been good with them."

"She was good with you too," Kylian teased his brother. You two had begun dating just before his World Cup win, the two of you barely 18 years old and Ethan was 12 - still a child in his brother's eyes and he always will be.

Ethan rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.

After some time, the kids started to get tired which was their parents' signal to head out. You and Kylian left not too shortly after that as well.

Your boyfriend finds you in the kitchen after he changes for bed, his arms wrapped around you from behind whilst your elbows propped on the counter as you waited for the kettle to boil.

"Something on your mind, baby?" You asked him, twirling the string attached to your tea bag.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

Kylian hums. "Kids."

His answer catches you off guard, you turn to face the man with a confused look on your face. "Kids?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Seeing you with the little ones today, I don't know - it got me thinking. It'd be nice to have our own, don't you think?" His hand rests on your hip, thumb disappearing under the hem of your shirt.

A glance at your boyfriend's hand, your eyebrows raised. "Do you really mean having kids or making kids?"

You can't help the laugh, kissing your boyfriend. The man wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Kylian picks you up, holding you tightly as he kisses you and carries you over to the couch.

Kylian puts you down, sitting on the couch for a moment as he looks at you. You take that as your sign to undress.

The silk shorts sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the tank top and that leaves you in the blue set he loves. You reach behind to unhook your bra but Kylian stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the couch. 

He puts you to lay on the couch, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Kylian drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy. He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

Kylian's fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Keeks, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger. 

Your face twists, pleasure all across it and our hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Kylian can feel it; he knows you’re close, you’re squeezing on his fingers, your thighs trying to close, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. 

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. 

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Kylian knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more, he gives in. 

"Please," you whimpered.

"What, mon ange ? Tell me."

You look at the man between your legs. "Fuck me."

There was no hidden meaning behind it; no scolding, no need to hurry him up - you wanted him and that was it. 

“Gonna let me fill you up princess? Hm?” He asks, shifting to line himself up with your cunt. You nodded eagerly, your leg hitching on his hip.

At this point, you can’t do much except lay there and take it; not that you don’t want to because you do, you really do. 

The tip of his cock brushing over your clit before moving to push into you. Your back arches, hips jutting forward to meet his.

Hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but enough to tell you that he's in charge.

Kylian wanted to hear you.

His hand now on your chin. “C’mon amour, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He says, the angle you were at puts him deeper than before.

The slightest movements and you can feel it in your stomach. It’s like he can hear your thoughts because his hand moves from your chin to your stomach. His big hand spread over your stomach, “you’d look so pretty with a baby in you, hm?”

Kylian lets you fall back onto the couch, both of his hands on your hips. “Maybe I should fuck one into you.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, he could listen to you say it over and over again. You were close enough that you could taste it.

“So good for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear.

“Uh huh,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. Your head drops back onto the couch, begging him to let you cum.

He lets you drop back, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Kylian cums too.

The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.

He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Kylian pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You lay there for a while, Kylian on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum. Your fingers drag over his shoulders, the man humming quietly.

"We should do that again," he whispers.

You laughed, "keep it up and we'll end up with a baby by next Christmas."

Kylian nods, kissing you. "Let's try again then."

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

kylian relationship headcanon?

can i come over ? ────── just another episode of tenderness.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 667 ♡ ────── notes : posting this one as a good luck token for the france vs netherlands game!! ily kylian. i try to not just write the happy parts of the relationship but also the hurdles you two might face? i might do more of these since i've got some ideas still :^) (quick disclaimer: since these are headcanons of real people, i'd like to emphasize that if you do not agree with any of the things i write, please kindly click off the post). title is from cool dry place by katy kirby ♡ masterlist.

Kylian Mbappé. Every single person on the Earth knows his name. But you especially—how could you not? When he doesn’t have his eyes on a football game, or his legs on a football field, he has them on you.

Hand on your knee at every single group dinner, behind your neck at every hangout with friends; his skin is always in contact with yours at every single second.

Touchy does not even begin to describe him.

If it were up to him, he would drag you to the changing room and have you sit between his legs—but no, it is not up to him.

Well, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the one that brings the elephant into the room, but also it is so bad that other people are beginning to think of you as a nuisance.

“Mbappé can’t keep his hands off his partner,” a tabloid once wrote, and it only took a few quote retweets from some Parc des Princes employees, heavily agreeing, for it to go viral.

“Sorry,” you once said to a manager, then to a janitor, then to a teammate, Kylian trailing quietly behind you, arms around your waist.

And he gets sooo whiny if you push him away—what’s worse than losing a match? His dramatic ass would say that it’s having you steer away from his touches!

“Kylian,” you whine on the couch, pushing his face away as he tries to kiss you for the hundredth time that hour. “Please, I’m trying to watch a film here.”

“Mhm,” He pouts, arms around your back, hoping that you’d look at him. He looks at you, his chin on your chest before sighing. “You hate me right? Be honest.”

“Please,” you say again, eyes never leaving the television, “you can kiss me all you want the moment the movie ends.”

He tends to avoid. You’ve known him for so long, and you are at the point where you would almost forgive him for the amount of issues that have simmered too long in both of your discontent.

But you don’t do that. No. You see forever with this man, right? So you sit him down and talk.

You’ve got to admit that Kylian has gotten so, so much better in recent years.

He used to flee at every problem—it’s not that he has trouble expressing his emotions, it’s that he has trouble being vulnerable.

“You’re doing this again,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. Kylian won’t look you in the eyes. “I’m sick of this.”

“Come on,” Kylian tries reaching a hand over the table to you—well, if he’s going to ignore you, you sure as hell are going to ignore him too. “Look at me, we don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“Right,” you huff out, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “so when are we going to talk about this.”

Kylian stays quiet.

Kylian likes luxurious things; and he likes you. The same thing, really, in his eyes. A priceless watch and your priceless kiss—this is the kind of luxury a man like him can only dream of.

He goes all the way for his show of love, of course! He customises everything he owns with your initials.

Once, he somehow left his passport in the airport, and what got people into talking was not his passport, but your initials embroidered on its leather cover.

The strap of his duffel bag is changed into a shade of your favourite colour, your initials and his sewn together under it—it does not stop there! A gold plated lapel pin with your name on it becomes a staple on every single suit he wears; socks with your initials when cuffed; matching bracelets he only takes off before practice and matches.

He makes sure the camera flashing on his face gets it: he’d pose in a certain angle, throw his scarf over his shoulders in a certain way.

Even when you’re not there, he still loves showing you off!