#Offside Story

[millyh23]

Out of My League

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word count: 3k

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It had been a few months since you and Leah had made your relationship public. It wasn’t exactly planned, but after a particularly passionate post-match celebration where you’d jumped into her arms in front of the cameras, there was no hiding it anymore.

The reaction from the fans had been… intense, to say the least.

You’d always known people found you attractive; it wasn’t something that ever really mattered to you, but it became impossible to ignore when your name started trending on social media after every game. Whether it was because of your play or your looks, the fans seemed infatuated, and their comments ranged from flattering to downright objectifying.

Leah, on the other hand, never made a big deal out of it. She knew who you were beneath the spotlight, and that’s what she cared about. But there was one person who never missed an opportunity to remind her just how “lucky” she was.

Katie McCabe.

Katie had taken on the role of the team’s designated teaser from the moment she found out about you and Leah. And while it had started out as harmless banter, recently it had become a bit of a sore spot.

You were all at a team dinner one evening, seated at a long table in one of your favorite London restaurants. The food was good, the wine was flowing, and the team was in high spirits after a string of wins. You were sitting next to Leah, her hand resting casually on your thigh under the table, while Katie sat across from you both, already with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“So, Y/N,” Katie started, her Irish accent cutting through the chatter at the table. “How does it feel being with the best center-back in the world?” She winked at Leah, and for a second, you thought she might let it go there. But no, this was Katie.

Leah tensed beside you, her grip on your thigh tightening slightly. You shot her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand under the table. She always tried to brush off Katie’s teasing, but you could tell it was starting to get to her.

Katie, oblivious to Leah’s discomfort, continued with a grin. “Honestly, Leah, you’re punching, aren’t you? I mean, have you seen Y/N? Half the league’s in love with her. Fair play to ya for locking that down!”

The table burst into laughter, and you chuckled along, though you could feel Leah shifting uncomfortably next to you.

“C’mon, Katie,” you said with a playful smirk, trying to defuse the situation. “Leah’s got plenty of admirers too, you know.”

Katie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “Oh, sure, but let’s be real—Y/N’s on another level. You’re like the footballing world’s version of a supermodel. Poor Leah must be sweating every time you walk into a room full of players.”

The laughter continued, but this time you felt Leah pull her hand away from your thigh. You glanced over at her, her jaw was tight, and she wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Katie, that’s enough,” Leah said quietly, her voice strained.

But Katie, never one to back down, just raised an eyebrow. “What? Can’t handle the truth, Leah?”

Leah stood up so quickly that her chair scraped loudly against the floor, causing everyone to stop and look at her in surprise. “I’m going for some air,” she muttered, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she stormed out of the restaurant.

You sat there, stunned, as the rest of the table fell silent. Katie looked around, clearly surprised by Leah’s reaction. “What? I was only having a laugh.”

You frowned, pushing your chair back and standing up. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not funny, Katie,” you said, giving her a hard look before following Leah outside.

You found Leah outside the restaurant, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed as she stared out into the street. The cool night air did little to calm the tension radiating off her, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say.

“Leah,” you called softly, approaching her cautiously. “You okay?”

She didn’t look at you right away. Her jaw was clenched, and when she finally turned to face you, you could see the frustration and vulnerability in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

You shook your head, stepping closer and gently reaching for her hand. “You don’t have to apologize. Katie was out of line.”

Leah sighed, pulling her hand back and pacing a few steps away from you. “It’s not just Katie,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It’s… everything. The fans, the comments, the constant reminders that you’re… you, and I’m just…” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

You frowned, stepping forward and placing a hand on her arm to stop her pacing. “Leah, don’t do that. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

She shook her head, her frustration bubbling over. “But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re Y/N. Everyone’s obsessed with you, and I can’t go anywhere without hearing how I’m ‘punching above my weight.’”

You blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice. “Leah, I didn’t know it bothered you this much.”

“Of course, it bothers me!” she snapped, and then immediately softened, as if regretting her outburst. She rubbed her temples, sighing heavily. “I know it’s stupid. I know none of it should matter, but… sometimes I feel like I’m constantly being compared to you, and I’m always coming up short.”

Your heart sank at her words. You had no idea Leah had been feeling this way, and now you felt a surge of guilt for not noticing sooner.

“Leah, look at me,” you said gently, taking both of her hands in yours and pulling her closer. “I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re not ‘punching.’ I love you, and I’m with you because of who you are, not because of what anyone else thinks.”

Leah’s eyes met yours, and you could see the conflict in them—part of her wanted to believe you, but the insecurities were still gnawing at her.

“I just…” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you.”

That hit you hard. You took a deep breath and stepped even closer, cupping her face in your hands. “Leah, you are more than enough. You’re everything. I don’t care what the fans say, or what Katie jokes about. They don’t know us. They don’t know how much you mean to me.”

She searched your eyes for a moment, her walls starting to crumble. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re strong, kind, beautiful, and more than anything, you make me happy. And that’s what matters.”

Leah’s lips trembled slightly, and she let out a shaky breath as she pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

You hugged her back just as tightly, running your hand up and down her back in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry for not realizing how much this was bothering you.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes softening as she gave you a small, apologetic smile. “I guess I just let it all build up.”

“I get it,” you said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But from now on, you can talk to me about these things, okay? No more bottling it up.”

Leah nodded, her forehead resting against yours. “Okay. I promise.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over her cheek before leaning in to kiss her softly. When you pulled back, her smile was more genuine, and the tension in her shoulders had finally started to ease.

“I love you,” she said quietly, her voice full of sincerity.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing another kiss to her lips. “And don’t worry, I’ll deal with Katie.”

Leah let out a small laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Good luck with that.”

After your heart-to-heart with Leah, you knew you couldn’t just let Katie keep teasing her without consequences. Leah might have forgiven Katie’s relentless jokes, but you weren’t about to let her off that easily. If Katie wanted to joke about someone “punching above their weight,” then maybe it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

The opportunity presented itself just a couple of days later during training. The team had been doing some drills, but the mood was light—everyone was in high spirits after winning their last few matches. You’d been watching Katie all session, waiting for the perfect moment, and it finally came during the cool-down, when everyone gathered around for a few minutes of stretching and chatting.

Katie, as usual, was at the center of it all, making jokes and keeping the team entertained. But this time, you had a plan.

You casually strolled over, sitting down beside Leah and stretching your legs out in front of you. Leah raised an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in your eyes but didn’t say anything. She knew you well enough to know something was up.

As the team began to chatter, you leaned over and nudged Katie with a grin.

“Hey, McCabe,” you called out, making sure your voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “How’s it feel dating the most attractive player on the team?”

Katie turned to you, confused at first, but then a cocky smirk appeared on her face. “Ha, as if you’re talking about yourself there, Y/N. But, to be fair, I do have the best left foot in the league.”

You grinned wider, ignoring the jab. “No, no. I mean, your girlfriend, yeah? How’s it feel knowing you’re punching way above your weight? Fair play to her, sticking around with you. What a catch.”

The laughter that rippled through the team was immediate. Katie’s face faltered for just a second, and you saw her eyes narrow as she realized what was happening. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of these kinds of jokes.

“Oi, watch it, Y/N. Don’t be getting cocky now,” Katie shot back, but the slight pink tinge to her cheeks told you she wasn’t as cool as she was pretending to be.

“Oh, come on, Katie. We’ve all seen your missus during practice,” you continued, turning the teasing dial up a notch. “Pretty sure if your girlfriend saw your left foot in action, she’d start questioning her life choices.”

More laughter. The whole team was eating it up. Even Leah, who was trying to keep a straight face beside you, couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

Katie folded her arms, trying to maintain her tough exterior, but you could see the cracks starting to show. “That’s rich, coming from you, Y/N. At least I don’t trip over my own feet in front of the cameras.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ready for that one. “True, but I don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got your hands full with everyone wondering how you managed to convince your girlfriend not to trade up.”

The team howled with laughter, some of them clutching their sides as they keeled over, and even the coaching staff was smirking. Katie’s face was now fully red, and she threw you a glare that could have burned a hole through the field. But deep down, you knew she wasn’t really angry. Embarrassed? Yes. But angry? Not quite.

“Well, at least I’m not using my partner to prop up my ego,” Katie shot back, trying to recover, but her voice wasn’t as steady as it usually was.

You gave her a dramatic wink, leaning back on your hands as if you hadn’t just dismantled her reputation in front of the whole team. “No need to be jealous, McCabe. Just know Leah’s still mine, and I’m the one who’s got a catch.”

Katie opened her mouth, probably to throw another quip, but before she could, Leah chimed in.

“Careful, Katie,” Leah said, her voice calm but playful. “You don’t want to make Y/N feel too good about herself, or I might start feeling insecure again.”

Katie shot Leah a look, her eyes wide with mock betrayal. “Oh, don’t you start, too! I’m just trying to have a laugh!”

Leah grinned, clearly enjoying the rare moment of seeing Katie squirm. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not so funny when you’re the one getting picked on, is it?”

Katie was about to respond when Vivianne Miedema, who had been watching the whole thing with amusement, piped up. “It’s alright, Katie. We all know you’re the real catch here,” she said dryly, earning another round of laughter from the group.

Katie finally let out a groan, rubbing her hand over her face as she shook her head. “Alright, alright, I get it! Y/N’s hilarious, I’m punching, and you all think I’ve got no chance. Can we move on now?”

You grinned triumphantly, leaning forward to give her a playful shove. “Just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine, McCabe. No hard feelings?”

Katie gave you a mock glare but then broke into a grin. “No hard feelings. But don’t think I won’t get you back for this, Y/N. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you said with a wink.

The tension from earlier had evaporated, and even though you’d embarrassed Katie in front of the whole team, she took it in stride. She might have been annoyed in the moment, but deep down, you knew she appreciated the banter. It was part of what made the team so close, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction at getting some revenge for Leah.

As the team began to disperse, Leah pulled you aside, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re going to be on Katie’s hit list now.”

You shrugged, pulling her into a quick hug. “Worth it. She needed to be taken down a peg, and besides…” You leaned in, lowering your voice to a whisper. “I’d do anything to make sure you don’t feel like you’re not enough.”

Leah’s expression softened, and she squeezed your hand, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I love you for it.”

You smiled against her lips. “I love you too.”

The atmosphere at the training ground was light-hearted, as usual. The team had gathered for a post-training cool-down, and, naturally, the banter was in full swing. You and Katie had developed a playful rivalry over the past few weeks, your teasing battles becoming something of an expected part of the team’s routine.

Most days, it was harmless—small digs and jabs that made the team laugh and kept everyone on their toes. But today, the teasing had been especially sharp, and you could sense the tension rising between you and Katie. You weren’t sure why, but she seemed particularly determined to get under your skin.

Katie grinned as she jogged over to where you and Leah were sitting. “Oi, Y/N, heard you were working on your footwork. Might want to call in some help from Viv, yeah? Could save you some embarrassment next time you trip over your own feet in front of the cameras.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking as you shot back without missing a beat. “And maybe you could call Viv for some pointers on how to stay in the starting lineup, McCabe. Might help with all those bench-warming sessions you’ve been having.”

The rest of the team laughed, a few of them throwing in their own jabs at Katie. Leah nudged you with a grin, clearly enjoying the exchange, but you could feel the competitive edge sharpening between you and Katie. This wasn’t going to be just a casual back-and-forth today.

Katie raised an eyebrow, her smile tight. “Careful now, Y/N. Don’t forget, I’ve seen your one-on-one drills. If anyone’s warming the bench next, it’ll be you. Don’t worry, though, I’ll save you a seat.”

You chuckled, but the tension between you and Katie was growing. It was starting to feel less playful and more personal, though you weren’t about to back down.

“Ah, well, if I’m warming the bench, at least I won’t be doing it alone. You and I both know you’ve spent more time sitting out than playing lately, Katie. Maybe you should focus more on your game than on trying to be funny.”

Katie’s eyes flashed, and the team’s laughter had a slight edge to it now. She stepped closer, her grin still in place but her tone sharper than before. “At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh? Must be tough, being known more for your face than your football.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and the smile faltered on your lips for a split second. Katie’s dig went straight to the heart of one of your deepest insecurities—that people only cared about you for your appearance, that no matter how hard you worked on your game, it would always be overshadowed by your looks.

The team went quiet, sensing the sudden shift in the mood. Even Leah’s smile faded as she glanced between you and Katie, realizing that this had gone from playful banter to something more serious.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the sting of her words. You couldn’t let Katie see how much that jab had affected you, but the knot in your stomach was growing.

“Well,” you said, your voice quieter now but still trying to maintain your composure, “at least I’m relevant. Must be hard, Katie, knowing that no one’s really watching you unless you’re on the bench or mouthing off.”

Katie’s smirk faded slightly, but before she could respond, Leah stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “Alright, that’s enough,” she said, glancing between the two of you. “It’s all fun and games until someone takes it too far.”

Katie looked like she was about to say something, but then she hesitated, glancing at you. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe regret, maybe guilt—but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just shook her head and backed off, walking toward the rest of the team.

You sat there, feeling the weight of Katie’s words settle over you. It wasn’t the first time someone had made a comment about your looks being more of a focus than your football, but coming from a teammate—someone you thought you had a mutual respect with—it stung in a way you hadn’t expected.

Leah leaned closer, her hand resting gently on your back. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked softly, her eyes full of concern.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Katie being Katie.”

But Leah didn’t look convinced. She knew you too well. “She shouldn’t have said that. You know that, right?”

You shrugged, trying to brush it off, but Leah’s hand on your back stayed firm. “Y/N, you’re more than just your looks. You’re an incredible player, and everyone here knows that.”

Her words were comforting, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. You knew Leah meant well, and she was trying to reassure you, but the insecurity that Katie had prodded at wasn’t something that could just be talked away.

“I know,” you said quietly, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded hollow.

Leah frowned, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Leah gave you a look that said she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push. She knew when to let you handle things in your own way.

The rest of training passed in a blur, but your mind kept circling back to Katie’s comment. It echoed in your head, gnawing at the insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. By the time the session ended, you were barely listening to the conversations around you, just waiting for the chance to be alone with your thoughts.

But as you walked toward the locker room, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Katie standing there, her expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness.

“Y/N, wait,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Can we talk?”

You crossed your arms, unsure whether you were ready to have this conversation. “What’s there to talk about, Katie? You made your point.”

Katie winced, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Trying to be funny? Well, congratulations, because you really nailed it. I hope it was worth it.”

Katie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. It was just… we were going back and forth, and I wasn’t thinking. I took it too far.”

You wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but looking at Katie now, with her genuine regret and the tension in her shoulders, it was hard to keep the wall up. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Yeah, you did,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t know how hard it is, Katie. Everyone’s always focusing on how I look, and no matter how well I play, it’s never good enough. I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”

Katie looked down, her guilt deepening. “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that for you. I was just… I don’t know, trying to win the banter, I guess. But that was a shitty thing to say.”

You stared at her for a moment, weighing her words. Finally, you sighed, letting go of some of the tension in your chest. “Just… don’t do it again, alright?”

Katie nodded, her eyes sincere. “I won’t. I promise.”

You nodded, and the two of you stood there for a moment in silence before Katie gave you a small, apologetic smile. “We good?”

You hesitated, then nodded again, this time with a hint of a smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Katie grinned, relieved. “Alright. But just so you know, I’m still going to kick your ass in the next drill.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see about that, McCabe.”

The house was unusually quiet as you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The show playing in front of you was some sitcom, the laugh track echoing in the background, but you weren’t really watching it. Your mind was miles away, replaying Katie’s words over and over.

"At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh?"

You sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. No matter how hard you tried to brush it off, the comment clung to you like a shadow, creeping into every thought. It wasn’t just what Katie had said—it was the deeper fear behind it. A fear that had been gnawing at you for as long as you could remember.

You’d worked so hard to get to where you were, to be taken seriously as a footballer. But no matter how many matches you played, how many goals you scored, or how much time you spent perfecting your skills, the comments about your appearance never seemed to stop. The media, the fans, even some of the players—they all seemed more interested in how you looked than in how you played. And Katie’s joke had only reinforced the insecurity that you weren’t good enough, that people only noticed you because of your looks.

You hadn’t told Leah how much it bothered you when Katie had said it. You’d brushed it off at the time, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but now, sitting here alone, it was hard to ignore the weight of those words.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. Leah stepped inside, her hair slightly damp from her post-training shower, and she smiled when she saw you sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” she said softly, kicking off her shoes and walking over to sit beside you. “How was the rest of your day?”

You forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “It was fine,” you said, your voice quiet.

Leah’s brow furrowed as she studied your face, immediately sensing that something was off. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice gentle. “You’ve been distant since training.”

You hesitated, not wanting to drag the mood down, but Leah had a way of reading you better than anyone else. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, but Leah’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “Talk to me. I know something’s bothering you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to find the right words. “It’s just… what Katie said. About me relying on my looks. It’s been stuck in my head.”

Leah’s eyes softened with understanding, and she shifted closer to you on the couch, her hand gently resting on your knee. “She didn’t mean it,” Leah said quietly. “You know Katie—she says things without thinking. She’s already apologized.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know she didn’t mean it like that, but… it just hit a nerve, you know? Because sometimes it feels like that’s all people see. They talk about how I look, not how I play. And no matter how hard I work, it’s like I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”

Leah frowned, her hand squeezing your knee gently. “That’s not true,” she said firmly. “You’re an amazing player, Y/N. Anyone who knows anything about football can see that. You’re not just here because of your looks—you’re here because you’ve earned it.”

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “But it doesn’t feel like that sometimes. It feels like no matter what I do on the pitch, it’s always going to be overshadowed by something I can’t control.”

Leah shifted closer, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her side. “I get it,” she said softly. “I know it’s hard. People focus on the wrong things all the time. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen.”

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as you tried to take comfort in her words. Leah was always good at reassuring you, at making you feel better, but the insecurity Katie had touched on wasn’t something that could be easily shaken.

“I just… I don’t want to be seen as a joke, Leah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want people thinking I’m only here because I’m attractive. I’ve worked so hard to be good at this, and it feels like it doesn’t even matter sometimes.”

Leah pulled back slightly so she could look at you, her eyes full of warmth and sincerity. “You’re not a joke, Y/N. You’re an incredible footballer, and anyone who tries to reduce you to just your looks doesn’t know what they’re talking about. You belong here because you’re talented, and you’ve worked for everything you’ve achieved. Don’t let anyone make you feel like that’s not enough.”

You sighed, nodding slightly but still feeling the weight of the insecurity. Leah’s words helped, but it was hard to completely shake the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

Leah tilted her head, studying your face for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “Do you want to know something?” she asked, her voice soft.

You glanced up at her, curious. “What?”

“I don’t care about how you look,” Leah said, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re ridiculously attractive, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re funny, and smart, and kind, and you’re an amazing player. The looks are just a bonus.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, a small laugh escaping your lips despite the heaviness you’d been feeling. “You’re just saying that.”

Leah shook her head, her smile widening. “Nope. I mean every word. And the next time someone tries to reduce you to just your looks, I’ll remind them why you’re so much more than that.”

You smiled, feeling some of the tension in your chest loosen. Leah always had a way of making you feel seen, of reminding you that you were more than just what people said about you.

Leah reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as her eyes softened. “I’m proud of you, Y/N. For everything you’ve accomplished. And I’ll always be here to remind you how incredible you are, even when you forget.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, grateful for her support. “Thank you,” you whispered against her mouth.

Leah smiled as she pulled back, resting her forehead against yours. “Always.”

The two of you sat there in the quiet of your living room, the earlier heaviness slowly fading as Leah’s words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. Katie’s joke still lingered in the back of your mind, but it didn’t feel as sharp anymore. With Leah by your side, reminding you of your worth, you knew you could handle it.

As the night wore on, the insecurities that had weighed you down all day began to fade, replaced by the warmth of Leah’s presence and the knowledge that, no matter what anyone said, you were enough.

The buzz surrounding the award nominations had been building for weeks, but you hadn’t given it much thought. Sure, the prospect of being recognized for your hard work was exciting, but you were focused on the season ahead, training hard with your teammates and making sure you were ready for every match.

That was until the day of the announcement arrived. You were in the locker room, going through your usual pre-training routine, when you heard the excited chatter from the other players. Curious, you glanced up from your phone, where you had been scrolling through social media, and caught sight of Leah’s wide smile as she rushed toward you.

“Y/N! Did you see? You’re nominated for the Ballon d’Or!” Leah exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels.

You blinked, your heart racing at the unexpected news. “What? No, I didn’t see anything!” You quickly reached for your phone, frantically searching for confirmation, and when the news article popped up, your breath caught in your throat.

Your name was right there, alongside some of the best players in the world. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over you with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” you said, shaking your head in disbelief as you stared at the screen.

Leah laughed, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug, her excitement infectious. “You deserve this, Y/N! You’ve worked so hard! This is proof that you’re not just a pretty face on the pitch—you’re a phenomenal footballer!”

You felt your cheeks heat at her words, both thrilled and embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s just a nomination,” you said, trying to downplay it. “There are so many incredible players out there.”

Leah pulled back to look you in the eyes, her expression serious. “Exactly! And you’re one of them! This nomination isn’t just some fluke—it’s recognition for everything you’ve achieved this season. You’ve scored goals, assisted like a pro, and played your heart out every match. You’re not just here for your looks; you’re here because you’ve earned it.”

Her words struck a chord within you, echoing everything you had been trying to convince yourself of. Maybe this recognition wasn’t just about the attention your appearance drew, but rather a testament to your talent and dedication.

“Thanks, Leah,” you said, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at her unwavering support. “I guess I just never thought I’d be in the running for something like this.”

“Why not? You’re talented and passionate about the game. You bring so much to the team, and people are starting to notice,” Leah said, her eyes sparkling with pride. “This is just the beginning for you, and I couldn’t be happier.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling your confidence begin to swell. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a kid, but now that it’s actually happening… it’s surreal.

Leah leaned in, her voice low and sincere. “You deserve every bit of this recognition. Just remember that, okay? No matter what happens with the award, you’re a fantastic player, and you should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

You nodded, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “I will, I promise.”

The rest of training flew by in a blur, your teammates buzzing with excitement and congratulating you as the news spread. Each well-wishing comment was a reminder of the support you had from the team, and it filled you with a sense of belonging that you had fought hard to find.

Later that evening, you and Leah settled onto the couch in your living room, the glow of the television casting soft light across the room. You scrolled through social media, reading the messages from fans and other players who had reached out to congratulate you.

“This is amazing,” Leah said, grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Look at all these supportive messages! Even some of the international players are celebrating you!”

You laughed, feeling a swell of pride at the community you had built around you. “I never imagined I’d get this much attention. It’s overwhelming.”

Leah shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder as you continued to scroll. “Just think of it as validation. You’ve always said you want to be taken seriously as a player, and this is it. You’re proving everyone wrong about how they perceive you.”

You took a deep breath, the reality of her words sinking in. It wasn’t just about being recognized; it was about being seen as a serious contender in the world of football, and it felt incredible.

“Thank you for being my biggest cheerleader,” you said softly, leaning your head against Leah’s. “I don’t think I could’ve done any of this without your support.”

Leah smiled, looking up at you with warmth in her eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. You’re more than just a teammate to me—you’re my partner, and I believe in you. Always.”

As the evening wore on, you felt lighter, the earlier worries beginning to fade. The nomination wasn’t just a title; it was proof of your hard work, your dedication, and your growth as a player.

With Leah by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever came next—whether it was the award ceremony, the upcoming matches, or the constant scrutiny that came with being in the spotlight.

In that moment, with Leah’s hand intertwined with yours, you knew you could handle anything. You were more than just a pretty face; you were a force on the pitch, and this was just the beginning.

_________________________________________________

The End

[kallypsos]

what was that, his little toe or something…?

[pitchsidestories]

long story short II Fridolina Rolfö x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1170

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, we'd love to read your thoughts on the oneshot. 🫶🏻

“Do you have photos of the two of you through the years?”

The interviewer’s question made you smile amusedly. Of course, Fridolina and you had memories together framed in pictures.

Although you were still getting used to the change to now call her your fiancée.

The warm afternoon light which filtered through the curtains of the living room let her light hair appear golden.

They the film crew were working on a small documentary about the Swedish woman. Today the topic was focused more around her personal life offside the football pitch.

“I’m sure we have some. Do you know where they are, love?”, Fridolina looked at you.

“Yes, wait here, I’ll get them.”, you nodded, before getting up to step into your bedroom. It was the coziest part in the whole appartement.

While the rest of it was very Scandinavian and chick with expensive furniture and a lot of warm lights which were carefully selected by your fiancée this was the warm heart of your home.

Your favourite pictures were all in a dedicated box, and you were pretty sure they were rested somewhere on the shelf until you realized your girlfriend, no fiancée you corrected yourself in your mind put it high up there out of your reach.

Unless you could possibly grasp it when you stood on the chair. “Uhm Frido?”, you called for her nervously.

To the interviewer the defender apologized in a polite tone. “Excuse me for a second.”

“What are you doing?!”, she raised her voice, there was a hint of worry in it too.

“You put the photos up there, Fridolina. Why do you have to be so frigging tall?!”, you exclaimed.

“I didn’t think you were that small.”, Fridolina chuckled.

“I’m not small you’re just tall.”, you protested as you lost your balance and were about to fall to the ground luckily the blonde caught you.

“Why didn’t you wait for me to get them down for you? You’re so stubborn.”, she shook her head.

“I thought I could do it on my own.”, you admitted biting your lip.

“Why did you call me then?”, the defender raised an eyebrow, she still held on to you as if you were as light as a feather.

“After I realized how high up it was.”, you answered, twirling a lock of your hair with a finger.

“Don’t ever climb on our furniture again.”, Fridolina asked you to, her voice slightly shaky.

“I promise. Thanks for catching me though.”, you replied, pressing a soft kiss to your lover’s high cheekbone.

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”, the fellow football player shrugged.

“Well, you saved my life.”, you said half joking and half earnest.

Fridolina shook her head with a gentle smile as you both walked back into the living room.

“We got the photos.“, you announced happily, presenting the photos to the interviewer.

“Sorry, took a while to get them. Someone must have placed them at the wrong spot.“, Fridolina added. You smirked at the sideway glance she sent your way.

In contrast to her, you weren’t so subtle about it. “That someone was her.“, you explained and pointed your thumb towards your fiancée.

The young interviewer just smiled politely, clearly focused on getting the job done. “It’s fine. Tell me more about the photos. How are they connected to your career?”

You rummaged through the box of photos and pulled out an old newspaper clipping. The photo showed the two of you hugging after a game, Fridolina in a Wolfsburg shirt and you in a FFC Frankfurt one.

“I love this one. It’s the oldest we have together and it’s from a German newspaper. It shows we haven’t always played for the same team.“, you explained.

Only months later you had joined Fridolina in Wolfsburg and the two of you had been inseparable ever since, hitting off your relationship fully.

The interviewer looked at the photo with a thoughtful nod while Fridolina started to look through the box of photos. She happily pulled out another one.

This one was taken on your first day in Barcelona. You both smiled into the camera in your Barcelona warm-up shirts with your arms around each other.

“I like this one. It’s our first one in Barcelona together when we just joined the team.“

You remembered that day. It was a big step for the both of you, joining one of the best teams in the world. But with Fridolina by your side even this felt easy. Looking back, you had to admit that it was one of the best decisions of your life.

“Oh yes. That was a wonderful feeling.“, you agreed.

“And the first time, we moved in together.“, Fridolina added.

You smiled at her: “Exactly.“

Your apartment was small but you loved how it overlooked the city. The balcony was just big enough for the two of you to have breakfast outside in the mornings or to drink coffee together in the afternoon but you wouldn’t swap it for anything else.

“It was a big step.“, Fridolina explained to the interviewer.

She had been the one who had asked you to move in together when you both signed for Barcelona. Shortly after, you asked the her to marry you.

You pulled the matching photo for that memory out of the box.

“So was this one.“

One of your friends photographed you kissing on the beach right after she had said yes.

Fridolinas face lit up: “That’s true.“

After the filming was done for the day and the documentary crew has left you softly tucked at your fiancées sleeve. “Frido?”

“Yes, love?”, she hummed.

“Can you the photos somewhere not so high up?”, you asked her with an innocent smile on your lips.

“Sure., the blonde paused before recognizing that another photo has been added to the box, wait that picture wasn’t here before.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be seen by the camera or the interviewer.”, you told her, your heart pondering nervously against your chest.

“So, you hid it?”, Fridolina raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you can take a look pretty sure you haven’t seen it before.”, you requested.

Cautiously the Swedish footballer glanced at it, letting out a squeal of pure bliss and joy before clicking her tongue. “How can you put this up there?”

“Oh, you want to keep it down here with you?”, you wanted to know, eyes shining amusedly.

“I want to keep it somewhere where no one can see it. That’s only for our eyes.”, she confessed, pressing the ultrasound picture close to her heart as if the tall woman wanted to protect this from the outside world.

“Do we want to get the autumn decoration out now or..?”, you changed the topic swiftly.

“No, too dangerous. I don’t want you both to get hurt.”, Fridolina declared. The blonde made a promise to herself that she’d always be there to protect the two of you.

A new chapter in your lives has just begun. The rest was still unwritten.

[aparttimewriter]

THE SONGBIRD

part ii part iii

chrismd x musician reader !

summary: chris is trying to move on from his breakup, little did he know he would find a connection with one of his roommates friends

social media au ✨

📍London, United Kingdom 🇬🇧

yourusername

liked by, arthurnfhill, taliamar, georgeclarkeey, mollymae and 678,456 others

tagged: arthurnfhill

yourusername: i’m back in london !!

view all 21,567 comments

mollymae: she’s back and serving looks

—yourusername: taking after my style icon x

user: can i say she’s an british icon even though she isn’t british ?!

user: y/n always looks so gorgeous

arthurnfhill: ordering a coffee instead of a tea is criminal

— yourusername: it’s a crime i gladly committed

user: she’s honestly so fit

georgeclarkeey: so this is why you canceled our movie date

arthurnfhill

liked by, chrismd, georgeclarkeey, yoursuername, arthurtv and 12,577 others

tagged: yourusername

arthurnfhill: super excited to announce that i will be opening for @yourusername while she’s preforming in the uk

view all 537 comments

yourusername: you all have my permission to boo arthur if he does the voldemort impression on stage

—arthurnhill: your my biggest hater

chrismd: so excited for you mate !!

user: my music and youtube world crossing over

georgeclarkeey: yesss man so huge for you !!

user: this is going to be so iconic

arthurtv: can’t wait for my free tickets !

—arthurnhill: for that comment you’re paying full price

user: about to spend my savings on getting these tickets

yourusername

liked by arthurhill, mollymae, taliamar, georgeclarkeey and 7356,213 others

tagged: georgeclarkeey arthurtv

yourusername: can someone explain the offside rule ??

view all 12,678 comments

georgeclarkeey: let me introduce you to my friend @chrismd10

—yourusername: is he good at football or something ??

user: dream girl material right here

user: feel like this is giving pick me vibes

arthurnhill: i think everyone deserves to know that she called it soccer multiple times 🤢

—yourusername: YOU PROMISED NO TO MENTION IT !

user: the third photo is giving such british vibes

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by chrismd10, georgeclarkeey, taliamar, arthurtv and 632,568 others

tagged: georgeclarkeey, arthrurtv, chrismd10

yourusername: many cocktails were consumed ( also i now understand the offside rule )

view all 8,567 comments

user: chrismd with the football rizz

georgeclarkeey: who are those two handsome devils in the second slide 🤭

—yourusername: some weirdos that wouldn’t leave me alone

user: how are these boys hanging out with a girl miles out of all their league

arthurhill: i invited you and have not one photo mention…rude

—yourusername: you should be more photogenic then

user: just give me one chance y/n

chrismd: still not forgiven for calling it soccer

— yourusername: 🥺

yourusername added to their story

an: hey guys !! i have been working on this idea for a while and i am so excited for this first part. if you would like to be on the tagged list for this series please drop a comment !

[tkwrites]

It Doesn't Matter - Part II - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: When Nico agreed to pose for Lena as her nude model, he never expected how difficult it would be or where the night would take them. 

Warnings: Slow burn, talk of lots of anxiety, being naked for the sake of art, smut at the end (18+): handjob (f on m) fingering (m on f) 

Word count: 12,200

Comments: This fic has taken on a bit of a mind of its own. It’s much, much longer than I originally envisioned, but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it down. I hope you like it as much as I do and enjoy Nico and Lena finally sharing their feelings for each other. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

It Doesn’t Matter - Part II 

“I feel like I shouldn’t eat before,” Nico said, looking down at the spread of sushi that had just been delivered to the apartment. 

“Why not?” 

“So I’m not…” he patted his stomach affectionately. Not only would he be immortalized in her art, he didn’t want the first time she saw him naked to include being bloated from eating too much rice. 

Lena flipped her hand and shook her head, “the whole point of a nude study is to see a human figure as it is, not as someone who's prepped for three days or something.” 

He looked unconvinced. 

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with, but don’t get hangry on me,” she warned, pointing her chopsticks at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed. 

He ate but stopped as soon as he felt the mildest hint of fullness. He could eat more when they were done. 

“So, do I just get naked?” he joked, sliding the plastic takeout containers into the fridge. 

She snorted, but the tips of her ears flared pink. 

“I…kind of hoped…” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she could just come out and ask for what she wanted. If he were a hired model, she would have asked him to come in a specific outfit, but this was Nico, and he was doing this as a favor. 

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was being so hesitant. He was doing this for her. Didn't she know he would do just about anything for her? “Do you want me to wear something specific?” 

Well, if he was offering. “Can you put on some dark suit pants with a belt?” 

That wasn’t so bad. “Anything else?”

“No socks.” She knew he didn’t love to be barefoot, but for this, they would go against the picture and story she was building in her mind. 

“Does it matter what color boxers?” he asked instead of protesting. He couldn’t remember what color he’d put on that morning. 

Just thinking about seeing him in his boxers made her blush. Which was so stupid. She’d walked into the kitchen just the week before, only to find him walking around in nothing more than a tiny pair of black boxer briefs. They’d hugged his ass so tightly that she could see the muscles shift every time he moved.  

Finally managing to shake her head and desperate to change the subject, she blurted, “I’m going to go set up in the living room.”

Nico smiled at how flustered she was as he went to change. Maybe Nina was right. At the very least, she might not be totally wrong. 

“Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” Nina had said when he had called his siblings in a panic the day before, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get through this. “But I think you should give it a try. At least tell her how you feel. You don’t see the way she looks at you.” 

He did see the way she looked at him. The same way she always had. Friendly and open and kind. But that was it. It never went beyond that.

“And what if I tell her and she turns me down? Or what if I tell her, and she says she doesn’t feel that way? I can’t just go back to how it was before. I can’t just take it back.”

“Isn’t it killing you to not tell her?” Luca asked. He didn’t understand it as well as Nina did, and had both feet firmly in camp ‘grow a pair and tell her,’ like Jack. 

He gave a non-committal shrug. It was killing him. No, that was too dramatic. It wasn’t killing him, but it was making him a little crazy to feel so much intense emotion without having anywhere to put it. 

Nina was tired of having this same discussion with him, which had only increased in frequency when Lena moved in. If she knew for a fact Lena wouldn’t turn him down, she wouldn’t hesitate to bully her little brother into spilling his guts. But as it was, she couldn’t guarantee anything.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” Nico moaned. 

“You are not,” Nina admonished at the same time Luca said, “so what if you do?” 

Luca continued before either of them could jump in, “you make an ass out of yourself every day you don’t tell her the truth.” 

Nico had glared, and Nina had rolled her eyes.

In any case, knowing Lena was also nervous took some of his nerves down, too. At least he wasn’t alone in that. 

Pulling out her art supplies, Lena felt like she might throw up. She was nervous and excited, and also so worried she wouldn’t be able to capture him. The last thing she wanted was to make Nico look flat. 

Although landscapes were her specialty, the Institute insisted every artist get a full education, crossing over as many mediums and styles as possible. Even if it wasn’t the students' specialty, lots of things could be learned from going outside your own box. 

She was scraping by in the class mostly because Professor Brown took pity on her. She told Lena over and over again that she had the talent but needed to feel the art. It was a criticism she only partially understood. Lena always felt her art, but figure drawing was indeed harder for her to connect with. She wasn't even sure why it was so difficult. Perhaps because a person was always moving, unlike a mountain that stayed steady and steadfast no matter what was happening around it. Capturing a facial expression was definitely harder than it was to find the divots and crags of a landscape.

This was another reason she wanted to sketch him. She knew him so well and knew she wouldn’t be able to turn off the part of her brain that was freaking out about seeing him naked. She would have to pay attention to his humanity and try to translate it onto the page. 

Nerves ate at her stomach. Not only with the idea of not being able to capture his lovely figure, but also… Nico was her friend. Sometimes a little more than that if either of them needed a date to an event, but they’d never taken it beyond their usual, comfortable banter that often flirted with the idea of more. It was one of the things that made moving on from him so hard. He never made solid moves, but he never cut it off, either. He flashed his dimples and made her weak in the knees, but never went so far as to kiss her or really ask her on a date. 

Seeing him naked without being in a relationship felt like a step too far. At the same time, it felt like the only option. There wasn’t another man she’d be comfortable sketching, despite her bluff about Jes. 

Now she wished she hadn’t eaten. 

At the very least, she would have the barrier of her art and easel between them. Maybe this really would force her into feeling her art. It already felt like she was fighting through her anxiety, and he wasn’t even there yet.

When he came into the living room, Nico found the furniture rearranged. She’d shoved the coffee table out of the way and set two of the dining room chairs in its place. She was unpacking her supplies, leaning a large sketching pad on her easel and lining several graphite pencils up on the side table, along with a sharpener. 

“No paints?” he asked. 

She jumped, and her heart did a little skid to the side. “These pieces are all supposed to be done in one color. I feel most comfortable with graphite, so I’m doing that instead of colored pencils,” she rambled before managing to cut herself off.

Turning to look at him, she breathed, “good heavens, you look hot,” before she could stop herself. She knew he would be, but she still felt like she’d just been socked in the stomach.

It was a bit selfish of her to request this particular outfit. She always liked the way his suit pants fit, and seeing his toned chest rising above the clean, sharp line of his black belt made her fingers itch to hold a pencil. His muscles were sculpted for practical use - not too bulky, but not too lean. Chiseled enough to show ridges and valleys, but not so much that he looked like a hulked out action hero. 

He was desire personified. He was… he was an Adonis.

A cheeky smile lit his face, “good to know.” 

She made herself laugh to break the tension. 

“Where do you want me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt too intimate, too much like something he fantasized about if he didn’t force himself to joke about it. 

A triumphant smile lit her face. This she could do. She was used to directing models into shapes where the light would highlight the most interesting part of their features. She asked him to stand in the middle of the room and turned him a few times, trying to get the lighting right. 

Nico tried not to flex or stand too stiffly when her hands were grasping his forearms to turn him this way and that. She stepped back to study him, then came forward to begin the process again.

Eventually, she shoved the couch out of the way and asked him to lean against the wall.

He stayed rigidly in the position she left him in as she brought another lamp into the room, angling the shade to get the shadows she was looking for. 

“Just lean against the wall with your hands in your pockets.” 

He did, and laughter burst out of her chest, “you can relax.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, looking up without changing his posture. He felt stiff and on display. In his mind, this was going to be much sexier than the reality was turning out to be. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his eyes. Or his mouth. Was he supposed to be doing something with his mouth? Should he be smiling? 

“Just stand like you would if you were waiting for something.” 

"What am I waiting for?" 

“Like you’re waiting for…me?”

“Where?” 

“I don’t know, Nico,” she caught the exasperation in her voice and cut it off. He wasn’t a professional model. He wasn’t used to coming up with scenarios on the fly like this. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “like you’re waiting for me to…” she trailed off. “It doesn’t really matter why.”

If it was up to him, he’d be waiting to take her to bed. She was wearing the same pink shirt she’d worn that day he walked in on her in the kitchen, and it brought up vivid memories of her wearing it without a bra. He wondered if she was wearing the matching underwear. The thought made him blush and cast his eyes down. 

His hair flopped over one of his eyes in that cartoon prince way it always did.

“Stay there,” she practically yelled, her hands itching to capture the angles of his face. 

The sound of her pencil brushing her paper took over his thoughts, and he tried not to twitch as his hair tickled his eyelid. 

“Can you relax your shoulders?” she asked. 

He rolled his shoulders back and did his best to relax, “better?” 

“Don’t move,” she chastised. 

He smiled a little before trying to settle his face back into the expression he had before. 

Just as his neck was beginning to ache, she ripped the page from her pad and asked him to sit down. 

He looked at her for direction and smiled at her intensity. He wondered if she always looked at people like this when she was drawing them. He was a little disappointed that in the six years he'd known her, this was the first time this kind of intensity was being turned on him.

“Just get comfortable.” 

Nico extended one leg and slouched into the chair, letting the other knee fall to the side so his legs were spread.

“Can you,” Lena stopped herself mid request, biting her lip. In her mind, she was forming an art story of him slowly undressing. She wondered if this was just her lust talking and if that was okay.

“Can I?” 

She decided she didn't care if it was her lust driving. It would be a good, easy to follow series.

Her cheeks were aflame, glowing bright in the lamp light. “Can you undo your pants?” 

His eyes widened momentarily, and she saw his Adams apple bob in his throat.

Forcing his fingers into action, he worked at the button and zipper, well aware of her watching his movements. 

“I want to sketch your hands,” she said, voice reverent.

Nico stilled immediately and looked at her, holding his zipper pull. That wasn’t a reaction he’d expected.

“Oh, God,” she covered her face, pencil still in her fingers so the point angled down at her wrist. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

He couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread over his face. This was more like what he’d imagined posing for her would be like. “You can sketch my hands anytime you want, hase,” he said, adding on the pet name before he thought better of it.

Her blush got brighter. She hated when he called her that. Bunny. It was a term of endearment that Nina assured her was well known and used by friends and lovers alike, but it brought up all sorts of wishing on her part that they were the latter. 

“Where do you want my hands?” he asked because he knew it would make her more flustered. 

She had to clear her throat and duck behind her easel. “Wherever,” she squeaked out, trying to calm her racing heart. 

Laughing, he thought about photos of underwear models and tried to get his body into a position like that. He hooked his right thumb into his waistband, exposing more of his red boxer briefs. The other hand fell off to the side, relaxed. 

Peeking around her easel, Lena lost her breath. She had never seen him so sexy. He radiated confidence and comfort with his body — something she never quite managed to feel about herself. 

This was going to be impossible.

“Look at me.” She really didn’t want him to look at her. She felt like she might set fire to her sketch pad if he did, but it would make the most impactful portrait.

Nico’s eyes met hers, and her stomach jolted. The teasing, flirtatious energy radiating from him hit her in waves. The rumble of desire she'd been feeling in her low belly purred to a higher gear, and she had to consciously stop herself from clenching her thighs together. Flirty and intense, his eyes were focused on her with purpose. Wanting, she realized with a jolt. That’s what this expression was. The kind of wanting where you want the person you’re looking at to know you want them. 

She’d imagined getting this look of open desire from him so many times that having it turned on her now nearly knocked the breath out of her. 

Forcing her hands into action, she’d never been happier to find muscle memory taking over – drawing the basic shape of his body when her mind was still running around screaming about how outrageously, unfairly attractive he was.  

Eventually, her creative mind took over, and she relaxed into the art, strokes lengthening and easing. 

When it came time to detail, she started with his face, trying to capture his relaxed, intense stare. In any other circumstance, she was certain her panties would catch fire or dissolve right off her body if he gave her this look. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen this expression. He would never be so forward with her in real life. 

Despite her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat and her wrists, her pencil stayed steady. 

The exercise wasn't lost on her. Even the first drawing felt different. This looked different from her usual work, too - more real in a way she couldn’t really describe. Almost as if he might just walk off the page and kiss the viewer. 

Wanting to get this expression just right, she paused to take a photo so she could reference it later. 

“Can we turn on some music?” he asked after a minute or two. 

“Sure. What do you want?” 

“Whatever, just something.” 

Flipping on the TV, she pulled up his music subscription service and selected a slow playlist. Something he wouldn’t be tempted to bop his head to before going back to her easel to finish.

Pushing aside the longing to be on the receiving end of this wanting in a situation where he wasn’t acting, she continued on. 

He stayed in this position the longest. He found it the most comfortable, and apparently, the way he was watching her, the concentration in her mouth, and the way it narrowed her eyes just slightly was fine for her. It was a relief to not have to school the wanting off of his face for once.

After getting to a place where she felt like she could pick back up in a day or two, she had him remove his pants and sit backward. 

Almost immediately, he leaned back, one hand gripping the chair for balance while the other ran into his hair. She yelped at him to still. 

He went rigid. The position forced him to engage his core, and the arm lifted to push back his hair started to cramp from halting mid-movement. 

This sketch ended up being her favorite, though she knew people would like the one before better. This one was really a study of his body — how his muscles flexed and bulged. She even somehow managed to capture the feeling of movement in his bicep. She’d only been able to do that with trees before. Plus, the whole thing was such a Nico gesture, it felt more like him, too. 

A page ripped from her sketch pad, and finally, letting his arm down and shaking it out, he watched her settle it, face down, onto the pile, 

“Okay,” she came out from behind her easel, her hands clasped in front of her, “I’m gonna go… get some water if you want to undress and sit back like this?” 

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat to match hers. This was all fun, games and teasing until he had to be naked in front of her. And she wouldn’t even be touching him. She’d be standing three feet away, looking at him the way she looked at one of her paintings. 

He’d daydreamed about being on the receiving end of that intense gaze so many times, but getting it in this situation felt like a poor consolation prize. 

He was on his own here, with no one to share the vulnerability of being naked with. 

“Do you need anything?” she asked from the kitchen as he was stripping off his boxers.

“Water?” he asked, setting them on top of his folded pants. 

Walking back into the living room, two bottles in her hand, Lena stopped short. 

She had seen many nude models and taught herself to get over the shock quickly. Training her mind to see the person as a sculpture, not a living being, she focused on the beauty of the human body and not the person living in it. And Nico’s body was beautiful. Smooth golden skin, dotted with freckles and moles, that stretched over living, moving muscles. 

Except, he wasn’t a marble statue. He was a living, breathing, beautiful man, and she knew him. She knew how he acted and what he loved, and she knew how much she loved him. And how much it meant to her that he was willing to put himself in such an uncomfortable position for her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with it. How could she possibly translate that into a two dimensional piece of art? 

She knew from experience how awkward it was to be a model, let alone a nude model, and that was with people she barely knew. For Nico to be naked in front of her, willing to let her sketch his strong legs and expressive eyes was something totally different. Now, besides seeing his body, which really was so beautiful, it nearly made her lose her breath. She could also see the anxiety in the set of his thigh and the curve of his spine. 

Quite suddenly, gratitude and love for him swelled within her chest in a way she had never experienced. It felt hard to breathe. 

A small noise escaped her throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Nico asked, “okay?” 

She nodded. Her feet finally moved, and she handed him the water. “You’re so beautiful, Nico,” she said, that reverent tone back in her voice as her eyes wandered down his body.

He felt a blush creep down his neck. “I don’t…” he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re…” 

His brain wasn’t working right. She was watching him with this wonderment in her face, like she’d just found the answer to the universe. He wanted to tell her she was the beautiful one, not him, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words when she was looking at him like that.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say. "What do you want me to do?” 

Now that they were here, she had no idea. She just wanted to watch him for the rest of the night.

The embarrassment she’d expected never came. 

She adjusted her easel, so she was looking at him, just off to the side. She could see three-quarters of his face, but his thick thigh hid his penis from her view. “Just try to get comfortable,” she said. 

Her voice was so kind and gentle that it relaxed Nico a little, but mostly, he still felt coiled tight and out of sync. “I don’t know that I can,” he said truthfully. 

“That’s fine. I know I’m asking you to be comfortable in a really awkward situation. If you feel like you can’t look at me, that’s fine.” 

The truth was that he always wanted to look at her, but seeing her this way, looking at him with holiness in her face, made him ache for her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else.  It felt nothing like any of the dreams or daydreams he’d had that involved him being naked in her presence before. 

She started with his legs first, so he didn’t have to find a way to position his head right then. “Can you flex your right thigh?” she asked. 

He did, and she giggled. He glanced over to find her in the same spot, shaking her head, “sorry, the other thigh? Your left. My right.” 

Nico tried his best and heard a breath rush from her. 

“Good grief, your legs are so sexy,” Lena said before she could stop herself.

His breath lodged in his chest. “My legs?” he repeated, his voice one step off from croaking. Had she really just said that?

“Yes,” she said, her tone serious, pencil still working. “Men’s legs are severely underrated.”

When he glanced at her, he found her concentrating again, but her mouth was set in a new expression, lips soft and parted slightly, like she was waiting to be kissed. At this point, it was nothing short of torture.

Pulling his eyes from her, he folded his arms around the chair back and set his chin on his hands. He watched the album cover bouncing around the TV screen. Mens legs were underrated. How many men did she think about like that? 

“That’s really nice, Nico, if you can just stay like that.” 

Cookie wandered in then and flopped onto the carpet previously covered by the coffee table. He watched Nico with slow blinking eyes, and he tried not to feel so observed. 

After four more songs of listening to her pencil and eraser working, she said, “Okay.”

He sat up. 

“Wait! I have to take a picture.” 

He winced, feeling the muscles in his back knot up. “Those aren’t getting turned in, are they?” 

“Nope, they’re just for me,” she winked.

His eyes widened, and she laughed.

“No, they’re for reference so I can finish the drawings. I’ll delete them later.”  

Forcing a laugh, Nico couldn’t quite decide which was worse - her taking the pictures or telling him she'd delete them so casually. 

“Okay, so for the last two sketches, I was thinking one with you standing, and one with you supine.” 

“Supine?” he repeated. He’d never even heard that word before.  

“Laying on your back.”

Well fuck. Of all the times he imagined himself on his back with her, this was just another one that would crush the daydreams he clung to on long, lonely nights. Pushing that thought away, he asked, “what’s first?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Standing full frontal?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “None of my figure drawings have included genitals. I could cut you off at the pelvis or sketch from behind. Which would you prefer?” 

He shrugged, feeling too spent to make a decision, especially one like this. Then, quite suddenly, he realized: If he was standing in front of her, he’d have to watch her looking at his dick the whole time. “Behind,” he blurted, too quick, too loud. 

After following her instruction, he found himself standing, facing the large window, where the curtains were mercifully drawn. One of his feet was up on a rung of the coffee table, forcing him to keep balance with the other. 

“I think you need to hold something,” she said, standing and walking out of the room. 

Upon coming back, she handed him the chain he wore most of the time. He’d left it on his bathroom counter, unsure if she wanted him to wear it. The fact that she seemed to know where he’d left it without asking wasn’t lost on him. He wondered if she assumed that’s where he’d left it or if she’d somehow seen him put it there. 

“You can fiddle with that,” she said.

It was cool and solid in his hands, and he allowed it to slip through his fingers, feeling the ridges and links of the metal, before his fingers slid over the cross. His breathing centered, and he felt some anxiety unknot between his shoulder blades. 

After a quick outline, she filled in some details that wouldn’t come through in a photo and asked him to lie down. She knew he was losing steam. It was a lot to ask to pose for six different portraits. Not only did it require a certain amount of stillness on his part, but it was also a night full of being watched. She could fill in the details later. 

“Let me get you a blanket to lay on,” she said. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to lay buck naked on the floor. 

She fetched the cozy blanket she kept on her bed. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her, like the  sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume. It was all at once comforting and disconcerting. He had so many memories with this scent. There was even a time his dick would twitch every time he smelled it. It was around too much, now, for that reaction, but it still called up a sharp longing in his gut.  

Wrapping it around himself,  he sat on the floor, then lay down. 

She fetched him a pillow, and once he was comfortable, began directing. “Can you bend your knee closest to me?”

He was slow to move but did it anyway. 

Sensing his fatigue, she told him, “I know, we’re nearly done.”

He sighed, relieved he didn’t have to ask. 

“I was hoping this one would be sort of satisfied.” she said, settling herself onto the floor facing him, her easel collapsed to be shorter. 

He arched one of his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I mean like, content, I guess.” 

“I don’t think I can do that right now,” he said, hearing a wearied annoyance come into his voice. He was too tired to school it back. He was feeling spent up. Too much vulnerability with too little reciprocation. 

Lena bit her lip. “Can I do anything to make it better?” 

A sigh shifted his chest into a new position, “I just feel really…” he wasn’t sure what the words he needed were. 

She waited patiently for him to finish. He liked that she never rushed his thinking. 

Finally, he threw the other half of the blanket over his lap and sat up to face her. “I feel like I’m all exposed.” 

She nodded. 

“And you’re not.” 

She hmm’d and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, thinking. It was such a Lena gesture that it made him smile. 

“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. It seemed like the reciprocal thing to offer, but upon hearing the words out loud, she realized exactly how much she didn’t want to do it. Then they both would be anxious and awkward, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her art, and that would be a loose loose for everyone.

“No.” Yes, of course he did. But if that were to happen, he wanted to earn it. He didn’t want it to be because he couldn’t sit through modeling for some portraits. Plus, then he would be completely distracted by her. 

She scooted a little closer to him, questioning in her eyes.

“I feel,” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. A long pause passed where she didn’t get fidgety or impatient, just waited for him to continue. The phrasing came in SwissGerman first, or course, and then he had to figure out how to best say it in English. “I feel like I’m doing this for nothing.”

“For nothing?” she repeated, a mildly panicked look crossing her face.

“I’m doing it for you, but for what? So you do well on your project?” He was happy to help, but it felt like too much. Too much given without any reciprocation. Perhaps his fatigue was talking. 

Her mouth pursed, “I can see where you’re coming from, but it’s a little more than a grade at this point. With you, I've finally been able to sketch the body the way I've been trying to for so long. And the fact that you’re willing to do something so uncomfortable, so vulnerable for me makes me just…I don’t even know how to say it.” She wanted to tell him that it made her love him. She’d told him she loved him before. She’d told him that many times: “love you, see you later,” but this felt different, deeper and truer somehow, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to admit those feelings. 

Instead, she asked, “do you want to see the sketches so far?” feeling they may be the best explanation she had. 

He perked up. She rarely showed anyone her art until it had been worked on more. A rough sketch was something she held close to her chest, wanting to keep it private until she deemed it good enough to display. He nodded, and Lena stood to retrieve them. 

Given a moment to think, he assessed his body, finding what was lacking with a quick scan. “I think I need to eat,” he said. 

His metabolism was so high, spiked higher by so much physical exercise all the time that hunger often came on swiftly, affecting his mood more than he’d like to admit. His teammates teased him to the point that he always had a snack with him. How long had they been at this drawing thing? He hadn’t eaten enough to begin with, and now they were however many hours in, and he was hungry. 

That would also explain it. She hadn’t been joking when she told him not to get hangry on her. Setting the sketches in front of him, she went to grab the sushi from the fridge.

The drawings were farther along than he expected. She worked faster than he knew. 

It was a strange thing to see himself in her delicate, penciled outlines.

Flipping over to the second sketch, he blinked a few times. He was himself, but not. The man on this paper was confident, relaxed, and flirtatious in a way he always wanted to be, especially with Lena.

“Is this how you see me?” he asked when she came back into the room.

“That’s how you are, Nico.” 

It was like looking in a weird, funhouse mirror. Was this how she saw him all the time? 

The third sketch was all in the details: the peek of the tattoo on his bicep, the flex of his abs, and the swell in his boxers. 

He flipped to the first nude sketch. She perfectly captured how he felt. Anxious, unsure, and alone. It even looked like he was bouncing his leg. Yet, the portrait didn’t seem to feel anxious. It somehow felt like acceptance. She wasn’t fighting against his feelings to make them prettier, never asking him to feel anything different. She took him as he was and translated him onto a page in a way he’d never seen or expected to see. 

How could he possibly be these two things just an hour apart? 

“It’s weird to see your own facets turned back on you, isn’t it? I felt that way when I had to sit for class portraits.” They had all taken turns modeling for their classmates so they could understand better the perspective of the model, and it had been strange to see sixteen different versions of herself at the end of the class - each of them skewed a little based on the artist. 

In the last drawing, he looked more relaxed. He was so glad when she’d handed him his cross to hold. Not only was it something comforting and familiar, but she’d also given him something to do with his hands, which felt important. 

This was the drawing that most made him look like a hockey player, he thought. He could clearly see how his butt and thighs were thicker than the rest of him. He’d long ago gotten used to the size of his legs, but it was still strange to see the disproportion of them in comparison with the rest of his body laid bare so thoroughly. 

She dipped her head to capture his line of vision, “I meant what I said before, Nico,” she said, handing him the to-go container. “You really are beautiful.” She flipped back to him tense and unsure. “Even here. Maybe even most here.”

His eyes shot to hers. 

“This,” she tapped the drawn version of him on the back, “represents a huge sacrifice you're making for me. Putting yourself in a very uncomfortable position to help me get better at my art. To help me really understand the human form for the first time. I look at this, and I see how much you care for me.”

When he’d finished with the rest of the sushi, feeling sated and comfortable, he looked at her. She’d placed her sketch pad on the floor and put the last drawing on top of it. Hunched over, she was filling in detail.

He always appreciated this about Lena, that if he needed some time to himself, she would find a way to keep herself busy. He didn’t feel like he had to entertain her all the time, like he did with a lot of the women in his life. It was a refreshing change of pace. 

He watched her work for a while, fascinated with the way she braced her hand with just the knuckle of her pinky finger so she wouldn’t smudge the charcoal already on the page. 

Clearing his throat, he set the empty container to the side. 

Looking up, Lena could see how much better he felt. His shoulders were more relaxed, and his hands were loose in his lap. 

“Do you want to keep going?” she asked, moving the drawing back to the pile. 

He nodded. 

“We can pick up again on Sunday if you’d rather.”

He wasn’t sure he could convince himself into doing this again. “No, I feel better,” which was a partial truth, “let's finish now.” 

She scooted back to her easel. When she got settled and looked around it, she found he had changed positions. Still on his back, his other knee was slightly bent, the blanket draped around his far hip to cover himself. His hand was up, resting under his head, showing off the smooth underside of his bicep and the tattoo of his families zodiac signs. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

"Yeah. Could you adjust the blanket?” she asked. “So it’s not so folded?”  

He nodded and pulled himself into a half crunch to see and adjust the fabric. His abs contracted, and Lena looked at the ceiling before she could be overwhelmed with attraction. 

“Like this?” he asked. 

When she looked again, it was better, but still looked too placed, not like it’d been hastily thrown over him. 

Her lips pressed together, an he sighed, knowing what that meant. “Can you just adjust it?” 

“You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

Pulling in a fortifying breath, he nodded. 

As she crawled over to him, Nico felt his heartbeat quicken. 

Her hands softly gathered the blanket, pulling out the folds. If he were wearing something underneath, she’d just toss it up and let it fall, but she couldn’t do that.  

Her fingers brushed the inside of his thigh as she tucked more of it between his legs, and the muscle fluttered all the way up to his groin. Biting his cheek, he stifled the groan of frustration that crawled up his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he thought. If he looked at her now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the semi he was sporting from popping into a full boner and he just couldn't take that embarrassment. “it’s okay. Just, no more.”

Nodding, she scooted back to her easel. 

Keeping his eyes closed, Nico thought about swimming in the cold, glacial lake near home until his body relaxed. 

“Nico,” Lena asked, her hand on his shoulder. 

His eyes fluttered open. 

Above him, her expression was soft and full of that same wonderment from before. “I’m done if you want to get dressed.” 

He nodded, and she left the room. 

Before going to join her in the kitchen, he pulled his boxers and trousers back on. 

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you felt comfortable.” 

He hugged her then, bringing her body closer to his. He'd been thinking about it for too long. 

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, voice intimate, dim and quiet. 

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said. 

Did she know that? She figured she did. “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you.” 

Nico stilled when she tucked her face into his neck. She’d done this before when he’d comforted her after a breakup. Then, he’d wanted to show her he could be the better man for her, but he’d been unwilling to cross that line. He still was. Maybe Jack and Luca were right. Maybe he did just need to grow a pair and ask her out. But what if she didn’t want him and didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that discussion and wanted to move out? He would feel horrible. She’d have to find a place that would let her keep Cookie or take him back to her parents.

“Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his back. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. Along with the scent of his soap and the mild undertone of sweat, there was a faintly cedar-y smell clinging to his skin. She’d never been able to tell where it came from. It was too faint to be cologne. 

His muscles trembled. “Yeah,” he said into her hair, trying to calm his racing heart. 

Her phone trilled from her back pocket. Lena was the only person he knew who didn’t keep her phone on vibrate.

She pulled back so she could look at it.  

Nico reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides. “Your mom?” he asked. It seemed she was the only one who ever really called Lena. At least when he was around. 

“No, it’s Milo,” she said, silencing the ringer and setting the phone face down on the counter. “He’s probably drunk and wants to get laid.” 

Nico’s heart began to race with worry, jealousy, and fear. “Does he do that a lot?” Thank god his voice didn’t squeak over the words.

“Once a month or so, I guess.” 

He knew he shouldn’t ask this question. He knew it was none of his business, but he was tired and emotionally empty, and his filter was thinner than usual because of it. “Do you take him up on it?” 

Her eyebrows raised, a sarcastic look taking over her pretty features, “are you serious, Nico? Of course not. He’s just drunk dialing through his contacts list.” 

“I always hated that guy. He’s such a tool.” 

Hearing that phrase come out of Nico’s mouth, in his strong accent, made her laugh out loud. “What?” 

“That’s not the right word?” he asked. “Like he’s selfish and just does things to be cool?” 

“It’s the right word,” she confirmed, this teasing smile on her lips that would liquify his bones if he let it. “I know you never liked him. I just didn’t realize you felt so…strongly about it.” 

His nose scrunched as he blew out a frustrated breath. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well, he couldn’t measure up anyway.” 

“Measure up to what?” 

“To this guy I’ve liked for a really long time,” she said, not quite brave enough to spit out the truth.

“So why don’t you date him?” Nico asked instead of demanding to know who this man was. 

“I can’t ever tell if he’s into me.” 

“He’d be a fool to not be into you.”

“Would he?” she asked, looking into his face, wondering what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You’re kind and fun and smart,” he said. 

Part of her swooned when he didn’t lead off with the fact that she was pretty. The other part of her was a little disappointed he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he added on quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. He couldn’t possibly look at her while telling her another man would be lucky to have her. It would happen one day, he knew, but he kind of hoped he’d somehow be out of the picture when it did. 

Lena studied him as he looked at his bare feet. 

His curiosity got the better of him, “who is this guy anyway?” 

Well, shit. She’d really talked herself into a corner this time. What was she supposed to say now? 

“Do I know him?” 

She nodded. 

“Does he play?” he asked hesitantly. 

She nodded again.

“I thought…” The knowledge sliced through him: if it wasn’t about hockey, it was about him. “I thought you didn’t like hockey players,” he said, fighting against the ache in his chest. 

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What gave you that idea?” 

“I overheard you talking to Jessica at the rink once about how you wouldn’t date me because I was a hockey player.” 

“You’re sure I was talking about you?” 

“You said ‘I don’t date hockey players,’ and then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’” 

Understanding sparked her memory. “Did you stick around to hear my answer?” She hadn’t even known he was listening in on that conversation. She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter while Jessica baked the soft pretzels. He must have been around the corner, heading into the locker room.

“You said ‘it doesn’t matter.’ I couldn’t listen anymore, so I walked away.” 

A small smile lit up her face. “If you had stayed, you would have heard me say, ‘it doesn’t matter, Nico’s not like the other guys. He’s sweet and respectful.’” 

“Oh,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say.  “I thought you didn’t date hockey players,” he said again, lamely. 

“I don’t. I mean, not the average ones,” she added on when his expression fell. “I told people that because they’d wonder why I was around the team all the time, but not shacking up with any of them. Those boys I grew up with were all such dogs, but you never made me feel less than for being a woman or like I needed to put out to be accepted.” 

His nose wrinkled. 

“See, that?” she asked, noting his disgust. “That’s why I like you, Nico. You’re sweet and kind and so respectful of women.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You see it in locker rooms all the time. I’m sure you see it in yours currently.” 

The conversation paused as he thought. 

“You’re different than other players,” she said. “Jessica was asking me that because she knew you’re a hockey player that I liked.”

“You liked me?” he asked, his mind running in circles trying to process all the information coming at him. 

“Yeah, Nico,” she said. Well, she was already here, she may as well spill the whole pot. “I still do.” 

Half of his mouth lifted just enough to dimple his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t flash your dimples at me! I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

That was new. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” 

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t tease Nico. It’s rude.” 

“Who said anything about teasing?” 

“I —” she was having a hard time articulating her words, “but you —” 

He patiently waited for her to finish, attempting to school the grin off his face. 

“But you don’t even like me like that,” she finished, lamely.

He couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of his chest, “what?” 

“You’ve never made a move,” she said, feeling outrageously embarrassed. It was one thing to admit her feelings, but then to have them thrown back in her face was something she just couldn’t handle. 

“You know what Jack tells me every time he sees us together?” 

She was so taken off guard by the question that it jolted Lena out of her spiraling thoughts. “What?” 

“He tells me to make it happen.” 

Her eyebrows shot up. 

“All the guys know I’m in love with you.”

Her breathing hitched, and she gripped the counter behind her to keep from falling over.

“In fact, everyone knows I’m in love with you. Nina says I look so lovesick no one can miss it.” He took a step in so they were nearly chest to chest. “But somehow, you don’t ever see it,” he added quietly. 

He was so close, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering. Her mind was still caught on, ‘all the guys know I’m in love with you.’ It was like she couldn’t process the words. “You’re in love with me?” she asked. 

A deep, frustrated sound, like a groan, filtered up his throat. The thought of pulling that sound out of him in any other circumstance made her knees feel weak. It sent heat racing between her thighs.

“I’ve been in love with you since I left Halifax,” he said, relief he didn’t have to keep anything under wraps flooding through him. “That’s why I broke up with Viv when I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it wasn’t fair to her or to me.” 

Her wide eyes snapped to his, and Nico took a steadying breath. She really hadn’t known. All this time, he thought she must have, but held to her principles enough to turn away from it. 

“I’ve been in love with you since you left Halifax, too, Nico.” 

It was his turn for his breathing to hitch. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

How was this possible? Nico felt like his knees were slowly turning to jelly. “How could you think that?” he croaked. 

“You never made a move,” she repeated. 

“You said you don’t date hockey players,” he defended. 

Hands fluttering up to cover her face, Lena shook her head. “I can’t believe this,” she said, a small laugh escaping. 

Reaching up, Nico gently encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away. She let them fall by her sides.

His heart was galloping in his chest. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, surprised to find his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Lena nodded, a feeling as though she were about to jump out of a plane surging through her body. Something grand and beautiful waited for her if she could just put her faith in the parachute and step into the unknown. Well, partially unknown. She knew Nico, and she wasn’t afraid.

One of his hands drifted up to her face. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he said, glad to find his voice had evened out. 

For the first time, she recognized that look he was always giving her. That wide open, soft gaze. Love, she realized with a shock of understanding. It was love. It had been love this whole time. She really had been blind. 

Her eyes darted away as her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.” She wouldn’t lie, hearing it eased some of the anxiety in her chest.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his before leaning down. Heart hammering with six years of anticipation, their lips finally met.

When her head tipped slightly to the side and her mouth opened to him, a shock raced down his spine while a sigh filtered up his throat. The kiss was better than any fantasy his mind had concocted through the years.

His tongue tentatively slipped into her mouth, and Lena felt a flash flood of right, this is right, this is the most right thing that’s ever been right in my life, sweep through her. 

Her hands fluttered up to his shoulders, and she felt his, heavy on her waist, squeeze when her tongue slipped past his lips.

God, Nico was in paradise. This was the softest, most heavenly, love-filled kiss he’d ever experienced. How did people even find words for this? Sudden understanding sparked in the back of his mind. This was why people wrote sonnets and songs and books. He wanted to drown in this feeling.

Eager to see his face again, she eased back.

“This is okay?” he asked, eyes snapping to hers, worried she was having regrets.

Nodding, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his. 

This kiss was slower, more passionate. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, Nico felt electricity zing through him. 

His fingers ran into her hair to cradle the back of her head. 

There was no stopping the moan that filtered up her throat when he sucked on her tongue gently. 

Fuck, he loved that noise more than anything he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again, and again and again in every possible position and every possible circumstance.

All at once, the kiss was electric, the initial softness giving way to the chemistry and sexual tension that had been brewing between them for more than half a decade. Lena had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating and somehow grounding in a way she’d never experienced, as if they were rooted together by their passion.

She wanted more of him. Her hands dove into his hair, noting the groan he let out when she pulled it lightly. 

Nico lifted her onto the counter. He wanted her closer than their standing position allowed. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He broke away and trailed his mouth to her jaw, eager to taste her skin.

“Nico,” her voice was a breathy little moan. 

He was a fool for not telling her sooner. God, he was such a fool. 

Her hand found his jaw and pulled his mouth back to hers with a simple, “more,” that nearly drove him out of his mind with the need to obey. 

Their teeth clicked, and she gigged. 

He loved this, too - getting her in all the ways, even the awkward ones. A laugh fell into her mouth, and it brought him back to himself. He wanted to savor this. There was no need to rush. She wasn’t going anywhere. 

Nico felt himself pout when she proved him wrong, and her lips broke from his. She stripped off her shirt, and before he could get his eyes on her, he felt her mouth connect to that soft spot under his jaw. How did she know?

“Lena,” he breathed. Her hands slid down his front, and the shock of her touch sent his skin to trembling. “Oh my God, Lena.”

She’d always loved the way he said her name, but this was something else. This was a song she would never get tired of, one she wanted to listen to again, and again, and again. 

Her mouth explored his throat, sucking his pulse point. His dedication to go slow dissolved a little with every brush of her tongue, every graze of her nose ring across his skin. 

His hands were suddenly everywhere. All over her back, cupping her butt to pull her to the edge of the counter so their hips could touch. 

Feeling the rigid length of him pressing between her legs turned Lena feral. She’d done this to him. She was doing this to him. Tightening her legs around him, she wanted to do so much more to him. 

Their hips ground together as his hands slipped to unhook her bra. “Okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

He fumbled with the clasps briefly before they gave way. 

Taking the garment at the center gore, she pulled it away from her body. A brief moment of chaos ensued as their arms tangled in the effort to get it away from her. Finally, she flung it over his shoulder and giggled when the metal bits clinked against the tile floor. 

Laughter split his face into the adorable, dimpled smile she loved so much before his gaze turned back to her. Even as the corners of his mouth remained turned up, his jaw slackened as his eyes blew wide. 

Dreams and reality crashed into each other, and Nico felt his breath rush from his lungs. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

“Hase,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a bit of a cutesy pet name, but his brain was too busy trying to soak in every detail of her he’d been so starved for to think of a new one. 

He murmured something under his breath in German, and Lena felt heat race to her core. She slid her hands into his hair in an attempt to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted, eyes still glued to her chest. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, voice husky. 

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a blush overtake her cheeks. 

He reached out, then paused, hands stopped in mid-air. “Can I?”

When his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, she lost her own breath. She was so used to seeing Nico’s expressive eyes wide with (what she knew now was) love, sparkling with mirth or drooped with disappointment. This…lust, different even from when he was posing with his pants undone, was new. Heat mixed with love and wonder. She’d never felt so desired. 

She nodded, finding her voice wasn’t where she left it. 

Nico was already throbbing against the zipper of his trousers, and cupping her breasts in his palms only made it worse. When she arched into his touch with a moan, it became damn near unbearable. 

Unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers as their hips surged together again. 

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load in his pants before he even got to feel her touch. Forcing himself to slow down, he concentrated on the weight of her breasts in his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth. 

She was the one who took it further, one of her hands slipping down his stomach to cup him over his fabric prison.

Now would be a horrible time to faint, he told himself, even as he felt his eyes rolling back and his hips pushing forward into her hand. He groaned against her lips. 

His mouth slid to her neck, and she shivered, feeling her nipples tighten more as his teeth scraped over her sensitive throat. 

He was hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers. It suddenly wasn’t enough. Removing her other hand from his hair, she fumbled with the belt buckle. Finally managing to get it open, she asked, “this is okay?” 

“God, yes,” he moaned, hips restlessly moving against her hands. 

As she was tearing the zipper down, one of his hands slid toward the fastening of her own jeans. “Okay?” 

“Uh-hu.”

It was only after he flicked the button open and managed to pull the zipper that she realized she didn’t want to do this here. Not where, if she leaned back, her head would hit the cabinets, and not so close to where they prepared their food.

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked, breath in his ear.

Could they move to the couch? He would move them to the moon if she asked. 

Lightning fast, his hands were suddenly cradling her bum, hauling her off the counter so he could cary her to the living room. A surprised yelp escaped her at the sudden show of strength.

He had to wrench his eyes open so he wouldn’t dump them on the floor as she licked his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, which she nibbled gently. 

When they made it there, he tried to sit down still holding her, but only half managed it before he was falling the rest of the way. He didn’t mind her crashing on top of him. Feeling her chest pressed to his was a lifelong dream coming to fruition. 

She was moving so restlessly on top of him, hips grinding, it made him whimper. Her hands snaked between them again, this time to shove his pants down. 

They both pushed and tugged, and finally, he was free. 

She broke away to look at him, and he had a sudden, terrible worry she would be disappointed. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he wasn’t too small — at least no one had told him so. 

“Oh, Nico,” Lena murmured, finally getting her hands on him. He was perfect. Thick and hard and searingly hot against her palm. 

“Lena,” he moaned, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Finally feeling her touch was incredible. Now really would be a terrible time to faint. 

She pulled her hand away briefly to spit into her palm, and he almost lost it, feeling like he could have come from the sight alone. 

As soon as she began to stroke him, he was done for. There was no coming back from this — though he couldn’t think of a reason why they would need to. 

His mouth dropped open, and his eyelids fluttered, attempting to keep looking into her face. The pleasure she was pulling out of him won out, and his eyes closed.

“Feels so good,” he groaned, his accent thickening as he spoke. He was going to lose his English next. 

It happened, and he started babbling in German. 

His voice was lower in his native tongue - it always had been. Lena felt her core flutter in anticipation. 

He repeated the same word several times like it was a question, but she didn't know what it meant. 

Nico opened his eyes and came back to himself enough to realize she didn't understand, and therefore couldn't do what he was begging her to. 

“Kiss,” he managed in English, unable to pull out the correct grammar. “Please, kiss.” 

Oh, that's what kush meant. In hindsight, it did sound a lot like kiss. 

When she caught his lips, Nico couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue licked into his mouth. He had imagined this so many times, but those fantasies didn't prepare him for the actual feel of her hands on him, or the sweet, warm taste of her mouth, as if she'd just eaten one of those cinnamon sweets she liked so much. 

Pleasure sparked and fizzed across his skin.

Jesus, this was better than anything he’d ever felt. Was this what six years of longing and anticipation did? Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the thought aside and let his whole mind be consumed by her soft hand, her incredible tongue, and the knowledge that this was actually happening. This was happening for real. He wasn’t going to jolt awake in a few minutes with a boner so hard it hurt. 

“Lena,” he groaned into her mouth. 

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “what do you need?” 

Everything. He needed everything. “You,” he said instead. 

“I’m here,” she said, pulling at his length with a little more fervor. 

His hips pumped up into her hand, desperate for release. 

“Lena, I’m…” he couldn’t even get the words out before he was exploding. 

She moaned along with him, drinking in the pleasure that washed over his face - his fluttering lashes and panting mouth. 

Closing his eyes, Nico tried to compose himself. The sight of his release splattered over her breasts might actually make him faint. 

She kept going with slower, gentler strokes until he winced, then gently pulled her hand away. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and satisfied.  

She giggled. 

God, he couldn’t even move. Her mouth was back at his neck, and he breathed out a curse in German. 

“Is that good or bad?” she asked into his skin. 

“So good.” He needed to teach her so he wouldn’t have to explain. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said instead of launching into a lesson in German swearing.  

Lifting her mouth from his neck, she looked down at him. 

God, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “You’re so handsome, Nico,” she whispered, tracing a thumb over one of his bushy eyebrows. 

He flushed. 

“I’ve thought about what you look like when you’re coming so many times,” she said, tracing over his cheekbone this time. 

“You have?” he squeaked. 

She nodded. “And it was so beautiful.” 

“I have too,” he admitted, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh. “Can I see it?”

Biting her lip, she nodded. 

Even as he was working his hand into her underwear, his other was coming up to her face and gently thumbing her bottom lip out from under her teeth.

“Show me how to make you come,” he said, eyes boring into hers. 

Shit, she might just fall apart from that look alone. 

Rising onto her knees, she shoved her pants and underwear down to give them easier access. His fingers slipped between her lips, and she moaned, pressing toward them.  

“I don’t really get off from penetration,” she said, “I like it, but it won’t make me orgasm, so it’s all about the clit for me.”

Sliding his fingers back from her entrance, he searched for that little nub. “Here?” he asked when he thought he’d found it. 

Reaching down, she moved him where she needed him, so the pads of his fingers were making direct contact. “Here,” she breathed, guiding him to circle over and around her pearl.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he devoured the pleasure that flowed over her face. 

“I like this, too,” she said, moving his fingers into a V so they traced on either side. 

He started a pattern from her instructions — circling and stroking, then splitting as he pulled back. 

“You can press harder,” she moaned softly.

He did, and her hips stuttered into his touch. 

“Can you…” she trailed off, feeling suddenly shy. She’d never asked a man for this before. Then again, this was Nico. He’d taken every other instruction to heart and was touching her exactly the way she wanted. She knew he would at least try.

“Anything,” he rasped, “tell me.”

Hips seeking, she moaned and loved that he was so willing to please her. She could see it in the way he was watching her — this eager, desperate look in his eyes, full of wonder and desire and so much need. 

“Can you suck my nipples?” she finally whispered. 

Growling something affirmative, he leaned in and drew one of the tender buds between his lips. 

Her voice keened, and her hand flew into his hair to cradle him to her chest, “use your tongue,” she instructed, then moaned, “yes, Nico,” when he laved over the sensitive peak. 

He was so turned on by her. By her confidence in knowing what she wanted and that she trusted him enough to tell him. Not to mention the way his name was panting out of her mouth.

Her back arched, pushing her hips into his hand and her breast into his mouth.

If Nico had known pleasing a woman could come with instructions like this, it would have changed his whole life.

He moved to the other breast, almost suckling at the tender bud. 

“Fuck, Nico,” she moaned, “feels so good.” 

“Show me how to take you there.” 

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He obeyed even though he didn’t know how he’d stroke her clit now. Just as he was getting ready to detach his other hand from her breast, she guided his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed into her.

“Nico,” she moaned as pleasure flooded her system. Her hips ground into his hand. He felt incredible. God, was this what she’d been missing every time a man asked what she wanted and then did what they wanted anyway?

Her next words fell apart just as she did, turning as nonsensical as her rhythm.

Even watching the pleasure roll over her face didn’t prepare him for the feeling of her coming. He'd never felt anything like it. Her muscles clenched in quick succession, fluttering around his fingers. Fuck. If she did this around his cock? He might die. 

All at once, the pleasure surging through her snapped, and she collapsed against him. 

Nico eased his fingers from her and eased them up to his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of her. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her. 

Before he could suggest they move to the bedroom, she was curling against him and tucking her face into his neck. Her breathing slowed. It was late - well past her usual bedtime, and Nico knew how a good orgasm could relax his body right to sleep if he was already tired. 

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck. 

A thrill zinged through him. “I love you, too,” he said, stroking a hand up her spine. 

Upon waking, the first thing Lena noticed was that her breasts were bare, nipples puckered so tightly in the chilly morning air that they ached. Somehow, though, the rest of her wasn’t cold. 

Trying to roll over, she ran into a solid body behind her. 

The night before came crashing back. Nico posing for her before admitting he loved her. He loved her! Part of her still couldn’t believe it. She smiled, remembering the incredible way he looked falling apart beneath her before he teased the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had from her body. So incredible, she’d fallen asleep right in his lap. He must have moved them into this spooning position on the couch rather than moving her into her own bed. 

Her phone trilled again. That’s what had woken her. Where was it? It sounded nearby.

Nico mumbled something and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get up. 

When it rang for the third time, she realized it wasn’t ringing at all - it was her alarm. She needed to get up. As much as she wanted to just stay here and recreate the night before again and again and again, something Nico wouldn’t have minded if his hot length currently pressing into her back was any indication, she couldn’t. She had to show Professor Brown her sketches, and she had a painting to turn in in her post modernism class.

“Nico, I have to get up,” she said, lifting his arm from around her waist. Her chest was itchy from where his cum had dried on her skin. 

“Nonig,” he mumbled, pulling her back into him. 

“Yes.”

Finally managing to extract herself, she immediately fell off the couch. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

God, he was adorable waking up. Mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes. 

Nico didn’t want this moment to end. It couldn’t. It was too good. He watched, amused, as she tripped over her pants before tearing them down her legs and kicking them them off before she stumbled into the kitchen.

She finally found her phone — she’d left it on the counter — and cursed when she saw the time. She didn’t even have time to shower. 

He groaned a pleasant curse in his native tongue and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. Sleeping on the couch was definitely not going to help him in the game tonight. 

He sat up abruptly. “What time?” he called.

“It’s 9:05. I have to go to class.” she said, debating if she should just pull her jeans on and go. No, if she couldn’t shower, she at least needed to change. 

He cursed again,  jumping to his feet. This was not how he wanted the morning after to go. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed and ravish her again before he had to leave. Now, he had to rush. Practice started in 30 minutes, and it would take him 20 to get to the rink.

He ran to his bedroom and stopped short. There was a suitcase next to his dresser. He’d forgotten he was heading out on a road trip. 

Running his hands into his hair, he wondered how this could have happened. He would have to be at the arena before she got home from class, and then they would leave from there to catch their flight to Florida. He finally got her, and he had to leave. This was the worst morning after he could have imagined. 

Attempting to run down the hall and pull on her chucks at the same time probably wasn’t the best plan, but Lena needed to see him before he left. She wouldn’t see him again for six whole days. Stumbling, she crashed through his doorway just in time to watch him pulling on a new pair of underwear. She finally got her other shoe on before she stood up, pushing her hair out of her face. 

He turned to her, and she lost her breath. She’d seen him naked, and he still did this to her. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said quietly. 

He didn’t hesitate to stride to her, take her face in his hands, and kiss her deeply, like he’d wanted to for so many years. He was never giving up the opportunity again. 

Gathering her against him, he broke the kiss in favor of burying his face in her hair. “I wish this morning was different.”

“I know, I do, too. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she assured, running her hands down his back. At the tail end of her stroke, she let her fingers curve in so her nails traced over his skin. 

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cheeks dimpling. 

A smile spread over her face, and she leaned up to brush her lips over his, “I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

He nodded. 

“Good luck,” she said, kissing him again, “I love you.” 

Maybe this morning wasn’t so bad after all. “I love you, too.” 

The smile she gave him made him want to move mountains. 

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to kiss him one more time. 

“For what?” he called after her as she ran down the hall. 

“For everything,” she called back. “For all of it.” 

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[paucubarsisimp]

pleaseee do a best friends to lovers with cubarsi🥹🥹

sorry it took so long! it was my birthday and i was traveling but here it is!

Best Friends

pau cubarsi x reader

fluff!

pau was your very best friend, you had known each other since you were in your nappies. so when he asked to hang out at the park, you thought nothing of it and went to meet him. you wore a cute summer dress and put your hair in a half up half down.

“hey pau.” you grinned as you gave the brunette boy a hug.

“hola mi reina.” (my queen) pau responded as he led you to a more secluded spot with less people. you gasped in surprise when you saw a blanket with fruits, sandwiches and drinks on it.

“what’s up?” you asked as you gently lifted up the skirt of your dress to sit down next to pau as he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you leaned against a tree.

“i wanted to ask you a question.” pau responded, rubbing the back of his head.

“yeah? go on…” you encouraged.

pau wanted to ask you out. he really did. but seeing you in person, all dressed up he suddenly got cold feet.

“i-i wanted to ask you… if you wanted to come to madrid for the el classico with me!” pau blurted.

“really?” your face lit up. “would you really take me?”

“yeah! i already bought tickets for you! you’ll sit next to mikky and natalia.” pau had already bought tickets for you, but he was hoping you’d be his girlfriend by then.

“i would love to come mi corazón.” (my heart)

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

yourusername updated their story!

(pretend it’s a cubarsi jersey)

you sat down in between mikky and natalia, giving them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“so… how’s your crush on pau?” mikky asked, wiggling her eyebrows as natalia giggled. those two were the only ones you told about your crush on the 17 year old boy.

you rolled your eyes, blushing as you nudged her arm to stop the teasing.

the match started and by halftime, mbappe had scored an offside goal and the score was still 0-0.

once the game restarted, lewandowski managed to score two goals causing you and the girls to scream and cheer. you made eye contact with pau as he blew you a soft kiss. you blushed a deep red as mikky and natalia cackled at the shade of your cheeks.

the game continued and by the 90th minute, raphinha and lamine had scored a goal each.

the final whistle blew and the red and blue crowd erupted in cheers. the blaugrana players jumped on each other as they celebrated. natalia grabbed your hand as she led the three of you down to the field. you looked around for pau and when your eyes finally met his, his face lit up even more. you rushed down and pau ran towards you.

in an instant, you were in the air with paul’s hands on your waist. he hugged you tight and you kissed his forehead multiple times.

“so so proud of you mi amor.” you mumbled. he set you down and you looked deep into his eyes before cupping his face and smashing your lips onto his. unbeknownst to you and pau, the other players and wags erupted in cheers as they saw the two of you kiss. you two reluctantly pulled apart and you rested your forehead on his while breathing heavily. suddenly, you started giggling causing pau to giggle. he brought you into a soft embrace before rocking you from side to side.

“be my girlfriend? please?” he mumbled into your ear.

“well… if you insist.” you shrugged before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“finally man!” hector grinned as he slapped pau’s back.

“was kinda getting tired of you talking about her all the time.” lamine joked.

pau blushed a deep red.

“she wasn’t very different at all either. always talking about how sweet he is.” mikky grinned as she came up behind you.

the team continued dancing around while you and pau continued holding each other and staring into each others eyes.

“tot el camp…” he whispered in your ear as he brought you closer.

the end!

lmk if there any mistakes :)))

requests are open btw!!! feel free to request any football player and i’ll get to it asap!

[newtonsheffield]

Ok Molly, you've written stories with 13 out of 20 of the top careers on AO3 that I can think of, they did miss professional athlete (offside, F1 AU, and Cubanthony!) Just imagine hot firefighter Anthony and EMT Kate!

Okay but Paramedic Kate being absolutely mortified that she’s nearly burned her flat down, and even more mortified that Anthony the hot fireman showed up.

A week later she gets called out to a fire and has to treat a fireman for smoke inhalation after he recklessly ran back in to save someone’s dog and who should it be but Anthony.

“Why is it the world’s always set alight when we meet?”

“Put your oxygen back on.” Kate blinked dryly at him. “You’re a fireman and I’m fucking stupid, that’s why.”

“Well it wasn’t a perfect pickup line.”

“Put your oxygen back on! Jesus are you trying to die?”

“Do you need me to take my shirt off and hold the dog for you to get the full effect?”

“… No thanks.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I am!”

“Okay.”

“I am!”

“I said Okay.”

[millyh23]

Abuelita

Alexia Putellas x Reader

word count:

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

The Barça team was gathered at a lively café, chatting and laughing over coffee and pastries. Alexia was seated comfortably beside you, her arm resting on the back of your chair, as she listened to Vicky animatedly tell a story to Jana, Bruna, and Salma across the table.

Vicky’s words flowed quickly, with phrases that even you had to concentrate on to catch. But Alexia was nodding along, as if she understood every word—until she leaned in, eyebrows furrowing.

"Wait… what does ‘it hits different’ mean?” Alexia asked, looking between them, a bit lost. The younger girls exchanged amused glances.

“Ah, Ale,” Bruna said, barely hiding her grin. “You wouldn’t get it. Too old-school.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing at Mapi, who had also caught the teasing. She shot you a mischievous look before leaning in with a grin. “Hear that, Ale? Gen Z is trying to tell you something.”

“Excuse me,” Alexia protested, scandalized, her eyes darting between the girls and you. “Old? I’m not old!”

“Oh, sure,” you teased, patting her knee. “Next thing you know, they’ll be showing you how to use emojis, abuelita.”

Everyone burst into laughter, and Alexia’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. “I am not an abuelita! Just because I missed a couple of phrases!”

Salma winked. “It’s okay, Ale. You’re vintage.”

Mapi leaned closer to you, laughing as she whispered, “And here I thought she was the queen of cool.”

Later that evening, you and Alexia were back home, winding down on the couch. She had one arm slung over the backrest, scrolling through her phone, her usual relaxed expression back in place. But you couldn’t resist one last tease.

You nudged her, hiding a grin. “You know, they had a point. You were really struggling today with the slang.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes, giving you a playful glare. “Don’t even start.”

You stretched your arms over your head dramatically. “It’s fine! I get it. You’re probably used to words like… I don’t know, fax machine and VHS—totally normal, classic stuff.”

She scoffed, setting her phone aside and shifting to face you. “Excuse me, I’m not ancient! I’m 30, Y/N.”

“30 is practically 40,” you said with a smirk. “And 40 is practically—”

“Don’t you dare continue.” She tried to look offended but couldn’t keep a straight face, her lips twitching into a smile.

You shrugged innocently. “Hey, I’m just saying, maybe you should start preparing. We can get you one of those pill organizers and a nice pair of reading glasses—”

Alexia scoffed again, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I try,” you said with a wink. “But seriously, I could teach you some phrases. We can get you caught up with the cool kids. How about lowkey? Like, lowkey, you’re kinda cute even if you’re old.”

“Lowkey, you’re testing my patience,” she shot back, but she was laughing now, tugging you into her side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop… for now,” you relented, snuggling up against her, feeling her relax under your touch.

Alexia huffed, pretending to sulk. “I’m telling the team you’re a bully.”

“Oh, please. They already know I’m your biggest fan,” you teased, smiling as you felt her laugh under you.

---

It was a typical Saturday evening, and you and Alexia were sprawled out on the couch after a long day of training. You were scrolling through your phone, catching up on messages, while Alexia sat next to you, humming absently as she flicked through a magazine.

Suddenly, your phone pinged, and you saw the group chat lighting up. The usual suspects—Vicky, Jana, Bruna, and Salma—had started their usual banter.

Vicky: “Anyone up for dinner at 8? I’m thinking sushi 🍣.”

Jana: “I’m in! LFG! 🍻”

Bruna: “Same here, but gotta bounce early. Gotta get my beauty sleep 😴”

Salma: “Same, girl. TTYL!”

You smiled, seeing the typical chaos in the chat, but then you noticed Alexia peeking over your shoulder, trying to read the messages.

“What’s ‘LFG’?” Alexia asked, squinting at the screen.

You turned to her with a grin. “You don’t know?”

She straightened up, looking defensive. “Of course, I do. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. Sure.”

Alexia leaned back with a casual shrug, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “Well, what does it mean?”

You suppressed a laugh. “It means Let’s F*ing Go, Ale.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she quickly tried to recover. “Oh, right. Totally knew that.” She gave you a nod, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure you did.”

The next message pinged up.

Vicky: “Yo, can someone get the S&P from the fridge? ASAP?”

Alexia furrowed her brows again. “What’s ‘S&P’?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Salt and Pepper, Ale. Obviously.”

Alexia looked at you, trying to keep her cool. “Well, I knew that,” she said confidently, though you could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Another ping came through.

Jana: “BRB, gotta grab my OOTD for dinner!”

Alexia just blinked. “Okay, I know BRB means ‘be right back’… but what’s OOTD?”

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh. “Outfit of the Day, babe. Classic fashion lingo.”

She exhaled sharply. “Of course, I knew that.”

“Right,” you teased. “Totally.”

Another message came through, this time from Bruna.

Bruna: “That’s a mood, Vicky!”

Alexia stared at it for a long moment. “…What does ‘mood’ mean? Like, the weather?”

Now, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “No, Ale. Mood means—well, I guess you can think of it as like when something vibes with you.”

Alexia looked horrified, but instead of admitting defeat, she crossed her arms defiantly. “Okay, well, I’m learning. I’m not old like you think I am.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, ruffling her hair playfully. “Keep telling yourself that, Ale.”

Alexia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m definitely not as bad as you make it sound.”

You leaned over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re adorable, Ale. Don’t worry, I’m here to help you with your cool kid education.”

As the next message came through, you saw Alexia’s eyes narrowing at the screen, but this time, she kept her mouth shut, likely trying to figure it out on her own.

Salma: “Catch y’all at 8, IRL. Can’t wait for the vibes ✌🏼”

You waited a moment, then turned to Alexia with a grin. “Do you know what IRL means?”

Alexia’s face betrayed her confidence now. She stared at the screen and then looked back at you, frowning slightly. “It’s… not important.”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “You don’t know, do you?”

“I know! It’s… I’m Really Lame,” she said, her voice rising a bit as if she was trying to convince herself more than you.

You burst into laughter again, earning a playful shove from Alexia. “You’re so full of it, Ale.”

“Fine,” she huffed, slumping dramatically. “Maybe I’m a little behind. But I’m catching up!”

You smiled, wrapping your arm around her. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you. You’re not that old.”

“Ha ha, funny,” she muttered, giving you a sideways glare. “I’m going to learn all the abbreviations, and then I’ll make you feel ancient.”

“Good luck with that,” you grinned, kissing the top of her head. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep you up to date on all the latest slang.”

Alexia mumbled something, but you caught her trying not to smile. It was cute—though she’d never admit it, you knew she was secretly enjoying being the student for once.

After a long week of intense training, you dropped onto the couch beside Alexia with a dramatic groan, sinking into the cushions like you were trying to become part of the furniture.

“Ugh, my back is killing me,” you muttered, rubbing at a sore spot between your shoulders.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth curling up in a smirk. “Who’s old now, hmm?” she teased, giving you a light nudge.

You glared at her, feigning offense. “Excuse me, my back pain is from being overworked, not from old age.”

She chuckled, stretching out beside you and crossing her arms over her chest. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. You sounded like a grandma just now.”

“Alright, abuelita,” she cooed in a teasing tone, grinning as she patted your hand like you were ancient.

You gave her a playful shove, trying to suppress a laugh. “Listen, just because I have one tiny backache doesn’t mean I’m old.”

Alexia tilted her head with an exaggerated look of sympathy. “Do we need to get you one of those heated blankets? Or maybe a nice back brace?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious, Ale,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t stop smiling.

She leaned in, clearly relishing the moment. “I mean, I could help you schedule a physical therapy appointment. Maybe get you into some gentle yoga?”

You laughed, trying to hide how much you were enjoying her teasing. “Please, I’m still in my prime! You, on the other hand, are the one struggling to keep up with Gen Z slang.”

She raised her hands in surrender, feigning innocence. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go… for now. But I’m just saying, if you need me to fetch you some extra pillows, just let me know.”

You groaned, reaching for a pillow to toss at her, which she dodged easily, laughing.

“Alright, maybe I’ll go see the team physio,” you admitted, finally giving in. “But only if you promise to stop calling me abuelita.”

Alexia leaned back, crossing her arms with a self-satisfied grin. “We’ll see, grandma. I- I mean amore," Alexia quickly corrected.

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

The End

[wyattjohnston]

with the posting of the masterlist, the summer fic exchange 2k24 has come to an end! 33 fics written by 31 people. i am eternally grateful that these exchanges are still going strong and that people are having fun with it!

please read all the fics below, even if it's a player you don't normally read for. a lot of work has gone into these fics and they all deserve your time. make sure to reblog and leave comments when you've read it!

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

i'm still unsure if i'm running a winter exchange or if i'm going to maybe reconsider the timing, but please come back and feel free to ask questions around november/december if i haven't said anything!

the summer fic exchange 2k24 masterlist

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Indoor Cat by @nhl-stories for @ bqstqnbruin

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

i’ve been yours since you stepped through the door tonight by @writingonleaves for @ callsign-denmark

Third Time's the Charm by @typical-simplelove for @ kurlyteuvo

Frederik Andersen

But Baby, It Feels Like Love by @callsign-denmark for @ mp0625

Chicago Hawks

Teuvo Teravainen

I Think I Dreamed You Into Life by @kurlyteuvo for @ lila-rose

Colorado Avalanche

Nathan MacKinnon

hide the sun by @ohmyeyesmyeyes for @ wyattjohnston

Edmonton Oilers

Connor McDavid

i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by @offside-the-lines for @ hiding-from-reality-56

Leon Draisaitl

… but you're going to by @senditcolton for @ thewintersoldierdisaster

Blue Hair and Pronouns by @hiding-from-reality-56 for @ nhl-stories

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

always attract by @dunnerlars for @ sc0tters

truth or dare by @boqvistsbabe for @ ohmyeyesmyeyes

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

four weddings and a funeral by @thewintersoldierdisaster for @ prettytoxicrevolver

Juraj Slafkovsky

Summer Vacation by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ lam-ila

New Jersey Devils

Dawson Mercer

Baseball and Love by @lam-ila for @ hischier-papaya

Jack Hughes

CHASING YES by @puckology101 for @ tonsypep

Nico Hischier

home is just another word for you by @fallinallincurls for @ puckology101

felt like magic by @laurenairay for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

good luck, babe by @nol-pat for @ fallinallincurls

turbulent by @wyattjohnston for @ dunnerlars

walked in and dream came trued it for ya by @gravestrain for @ nol-pat

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

First Time Feeling by @huuuuughes for @ ahockeywrites

truth or dare by @dunnerlars for @ writingonleaves

Matt Martin

I can't help it if I like it by @laurenairay for @ comphy-and-cozy

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafreniere

Romance in The Hamptons by @lifeofpriya for @ wildrangers

Matt Rempe

MEDICINE by @lila-rose for @ 2 manytabsopen

Pittsburgh Penguins

Anthony Beauvillier

one night standards by @comphy-and-cozy for @ offsidethelines

Tattoos of You by @bqstqnbruin for @ senditcolton

Ryan Graves

The First Time by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ gravestrain

Seattle Kraken

Philipp Grubauer

Pfirsich by @mp0625 for @ huuuuughes

Toronto Maple Leafs

Joseph Woll

sunset by @hischier-papaya for @ lifeofpriya

William Nylander

I Wish You Would by @wildrangers for @ typical-simplelove

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

somehow still stuck on you by @matthewtkachuk for @ boqvistsbabe

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to by @tonyspep for @ laurenairay

if the person you wrote for hasn’t read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

i only tag the person who wrote the fic as there are limited tags.

[museincarnate]

THE END OF PEACE...

(The beginning of a grand story, told by museincarnate and @dragvnsovl)

Approximately a year after two Saiyans, Shuen and Torno, had managed to prevent the end of all of existence, at the hands of an ancient being called Svandur, peace had become somewhat commonplace, in the universe of Sol-Lago. A point of origin for the Paradox and Mighty Saiyan, the majority of their lives had been spent battling with one another; leaving them unaware of the universe around them. With a newfound, lasting peace, the duo took it upon themselves to explore their own universe, studying its vastness, and the beings that inhabited it.

However, briefly after their imprisoning of Svandur within the Eternal Hourglass, which once housed Kronus, who fused himself with Svandur to allow existence itself to be saved, the duo of Shuen and Torno had met a Lagomorph woman named Tater, and a Luparian named Tazz, who both quickly became essential parts of their lives, in their own ways; the former traveling with Torno and Shuen, on their researching expeditions across Sol-Lago, while the latter had taken to the company of Hakkona and Yujin: Torno's daughter and Shuen's son, who had both amicably ended their relationship with each other, after they had their second child together.

During one of Shuen, Torno and Tater's expeditions, Hakkona and Tazz had made plans to go to the mall together, while Yujin stayed home to take care of his daughter, Aitez; the two women having meant to go shopping together, but not managing to, partly due to how often small, criminal activities earned their attention, to be settled. Arriving to the mall, the Saiyaness had already managed to spot a sign near the entrance of one of the clothing stores on the upper floor, and quickly pointed up at it, so that the Luparian could see it, too!

"Tazz! They have a sale going on! I heard the clothes you can get there are pretty cute, and even compliment physiques like ours!" Obviously making a friendly compliment towards Tazz, the Buff Gal was moreso excited about apparel that fit her and Tazz's remarkable, muscular frames, while she'd already begun heading towards the escalator that connected the lower and upper floors to each other. "Come on, we have so many places to check out!" The Saiyaness's tail would seem to sway about rather giddily from the moment the duo entered the mall through its automatic doors, while Hakkona had to keep herself from excitedly taking the Luparian's hand.

Entering a mere few moments after the two women, however...

A hooded figure, with his face obscured from anyone's immediate view, kept his gaze locked upon them, while he'd trailed them since before they'd even reached the shopping center's doors. Pocketed hands kept most of his features further hidden from the wandering eyes of anyone around him, as he kept his movements and distance deliberately inconspicuous. The sway of the Saiyan woman's tail would draw further focus from the unidentified figure, as she and her wolf-like friend began their ascent of the moving stairs to the next floor; leaving him to wait until they'd reached closer to the upper floor, to step onto the contraption himself, and follow them even more.

Unaware of anyone near them, however, Hakkona would keep giddily ushering her Luparian gal pal towards the store, while she'd already started eyeing up a few clothing items that she thought would look nice on Tazz; hoping that she had a good understanding of her best friend's taste in fashion. When approached by an employee, and inquired about needing any assistance, however, the Buff Gal, for her sheer size and intimidating appearance... Clammed up; her cheeks turning pink, as she shook her head awkwardly. "U-Uh... Not at the moment, n-no! U-Unless you need something, Tazz?" Glancing at Tazz, Hakkona was practically begging her to help her escape the interaction, since she was rather socially shy, with strangers.

Offside, outside of the store, the hooded figure's pocketed hands had balled themselves into slight fists, as he walked away from the proximity of the two women; remaining, however, within a range that he could still see them, while he acted as though he was looking at other stores.

[smicksstuff]

Could you write more SMAU’s for Marc Guiu and Héctor Fort?

Secrets

hectorfort! x reader!, marcguiu!xreader!, siblings!xreader!

summary: join elizabeth as she makes her comeback into the football scene. rumours arise about her new bae but are the rumours true ? make shocking discoveries as ellie sets the record straight.

oc: Elizabeth (Ellie) Sainz

-

elliesainz

Barcelona

liked by hectorforrt_, marcguiu9, ybsf, pedri, and 157,874 others

elliesainz i’m back babyyyy !!

view comments

pedri looking stunning as ever !! 😍😍😍

elliesainz 🫶🏽

pablogavi mi favourito is back

elliesainz ❤️❤️

hectorforrt_ my partner in crime is back ❤️

elliesainz shits about to go downnnn

pablogavi no no not more pranks

elliesainz 🤨🤫🤐😈

hectorforrt also why does gavi get a pic and not me

elliesainz you refused to take one

pablogavi she just likes me more 🤫

hectorforrt geez the things i do for this girl and this is what i get 🙄

user1 “this girl” bros jealous his friend is getting more attention than him

user7 omg is she the one that people have been spotting with hector ?

marcguiu9 god i missed youu 🥹❤️ (comment deleted)

marcguiu9 besties back 😍

elliesainz never ever leaving again 😙

user1 geeez who is this girl ???

user2 she got all the boys whipped

user3 ngl she’s got me whipped tooo

user4 this is elliesainz she is a local restaurant owner. she has a little cafe bar in Barcelona called Offside. They have one of the best paellas and drinks. she is quite famous in the barca community !

user2 she aint nobody 😳

user6 she is one hot chef

liked by marcguiu9 and 829 others

user6 no way marcguiu9 just liked my comment

user7 bestiee is there smth going on ??

user8 ngl they would make a cute couple

user3 nahhh my bets are still on her and hector, they have known each other since forever.

-

hectorforrt_

Barcelona

liked by elliesainz, marcguiu9, user7 and 902,262 others

hectorforrt_ we are getting the gang back together

view comments

elliesainz i love you guysss 🥹🩷

marcguiu9 what will i do without you guys

hectorforrt_ absolutely nothing

elliegonzales i second that ✊🏽

marcguiu9 geez thanks guys 😑

user3 shipping hector and ellie so bad now

user7 same bestie, samee

-

elliesainz posted on her story

hector and chef - trending on X

text messages between hector and ellie

-

elliesainz & hectorforrt_

Barcelona

liked by hectorforrt_, pedri, marcguiu9 and 1,039,728 others

elliesainz thank you papa for my big brother who plays professional football. hectorforrt_ i love you but i love your friends a little more 😗❤️

view comments

hectorforrt_ can’t believe im being used for my friends

elliesainz but i said i love you 🥹

hectorforrt_ 🙄

elliegonzales 😞

user3 BROTHER ???? HERMANO ???

user3 hold UPP !! OMG ive been shipping them together for so long

user1 i need 1-3 years to get over this 🤡

user2 ngl i see the resemblance now

emilygonzales I CALLED THIS ON X

pablogavi FINALLY one less secret to keep

elliesainz i had to save you

marcguiu9 i love my sibling besties 🩷

hectorforrt_ yeah but you love me more

marcguiu9 depends

hectorforrt_ on what ?

marcguiu9 well she can cook. you cant do it to save your life

elliesainz awww you love me moree ✊🏼🩷

marcguiu9 🤐🤐🤐

user7 wait how are they related ??

user4 if im not wrong her dad remarried after her mom passed on.

user7 oh, im so sorry for her.

user4 i think its been a secret because her dad didnt want her to be in the media too much. he didn’t want her to be picked on given her past.

[starstruckcomet]

That Bainsy goal being overturned for offside and ultimately sinking us (although we didn't play great anyway) is my villain origin story

[miroslavcloset]

The day Thomas Muller became a national hero in Colombia (South America)

Because of my husband Thomas Muller's NT retirement, I decided to remember that time when he became an icon in this unknown third-world country~

Storytime~

Get something to eat because here comes my longest post ever and one of my favorite things to ever happen in this hellhole <3

No introduction is needed for the 2014 World Cup. So let's just skip to the good part. One of the breakthrough teams was Colombia, a humble but passionate team, they were having their best run so far, and literally everyone in the country wanted them to go as far as possible.

In a country where literally every day the government makes you hate every part of living here, the NT is always a beacon of joy to make us feel proud of being Colombian. And even more now, that we had the Best goal of the match and the Top scorer of the whole tournament.

After an amazing run against teams like Uruguay and Ivory Coast, the day came, when we had to play against Brazil. I don't know how it was perceived in the rest of the world, but here in South America, almost everyone knew Brazil was winning the whole thing, even with rumors of the WC being fixed to favor them (ofc rumors or not but still).

In the Colombia V Brazil match, 3 important things happened.

Neymar was Injured

Thiago Silva was suspended via accumulation of yellow cards

And the catalyst of this story

3. An equalizer Goal from Mario Yepes was mistakenly determined as offside and annulled.

Due to this last event, Colombia was automatically eliminated without the chance of going to penalties.

THIS is Colombia's Trauma™, you can ask any of us. We even have a popular saying we use to this day because of this 'Era gol de Yepes' (Like saying that goal was always legit). But we weren't sad. We were infuriated. We demanded vengeance, we wanted vengeance (We're way too passionate about this, what do you want me to say).

After that, yeah, there were the other quarterfinals, whatever, we didn't care. All of us were waiting for the Germany V Brazil and due to the rumors I spoke about before, we were very scared of Germany losing.

As an important note here, while we were very angry, a very good portion of the Colombians just dropped the whole thing due to idk post-elimination depression. On a personal note, never in my life did I see my country in such silence. I went out to visit my family and the capital had the most depressing silence I've ever experienced. When I tell you this WC meant the world to us I was very serious, a lot of Colombians went to Brazil in buses or walking to see the matches, and some even slept on the streets or stuff like that to keep on supporting.

So, the day of the Germany V Brazil match arrived, and oh boy we didn't have an idea.

At this point, very few of us were still watching the tournament. In the beginning, they were very balanced... And then the game started.

We already knew what happened in that legendary game so let me just tell you the story from our point of view. All of Colombia was rooting for Germany, we wanted, no, we needed Germany to win. Brazil started attacking first so we were quite nervous.

Then a certain player bested Brazil's clueless defenses and scored the first one for Germany.

Everyone was celebrating as if it was our own country, we started calling other people to turn on the TV, our family, neighbors, everyone. The stores and cafeterias tuned the match to see the ones that (in our eyes) did us so wrong, get humiliated by such a great team.

Of course, almost no one knew who this guy was, but Javier Hernández (the most popular commentator here) felt exactly the same as everyone else and loved every second of that first goal, making sure every single Colombian heard this player's name loud and clear, the one that avenged us. Thomas Muller.

Here you can hear what all of us heard that day: (Turn on audio to witness the insanity)

(Sorry for the quality of the video, I know it's ass but this was a recording from a fan from a TV 10 years ago lol)

Then the goals came one after another, and the rest is history. But to us it was special, we celebrated as if it was our own country. Here are some comments from Colombians:

T: Thanks for avenging us Germany

T: Forbidden to forget this match, when all of us were German for 90Min, Thanks! (Germany x4 Trophies) I'll never get over him and neither any colombian, Thomas Muller 7-1 / 8-2

T: Muller 2014: 7-1 Muller 2020: 8-2 He's always in every historic scoring in football

T: In that match All of Colombia was Germany

And like those you can find hundreds and hundreds. The day after the match we kept on celebrating, the memes were everywhere, especially one where James (our star player) called Thomas and asked him to score against Brazil (ofc that never happened, was a silly meme that reflected the general feeling). Also, I clearly remember the news and variety shows on national channels opening their broadcast greeting in German (or at least trying lol). It was so funny and at the end, we received our NT and celebrated their progress and Germany won the cup.

Pretty much a happy ending for everyone.

[judethswrld]

so that loser messi can post on his story about the clear offside in the argentina vs morocco game but he couldn’t speak up when his teammates were singing racist chants?? he’s such a loser oh my gosh

[thommi-tomate]

Thommi after the robbery in Madrid:

(on the supposed 2:2, which had been whistled beforehand) I haven't seen a line drawn yet. But of course it's an unbelievable mistake, an unbelievable blunder. (...) The referee is certainly an excellent referee and the whole team. And to blow the whistle directly in a scene like that when the ball is in the air, when it's a fight for the second ball ... but that doesn't help us. If it really wasn't offside, that's unbelievable (...). We often see defenders having to sprint back even though it was clearly three meters offside. To raise the flag in such a situation in such an important game - that's wonderful - but he should never blow the whistle straight away when it's so close

(on the game) All in all, you can say that we put up a huge fight and left our heart and sweat on the pitch. We also suffered in this game. It's not as if Real Madrid scored a goal out of nowhere, but of course they also had periods of pressure. We have to be honest about that. But when you're leading like that just before the end, you really want to get it over the finish line. The ball bounces a bit stupidly, Manu gets it against his chin and then we've seen the rest. In the end, it's all about the millimeters: Offside or no offside. (...)

It's hard to come up with some big analysis that makes everyone happy. (...) Everyone really gave their all right to the end. It looked like the tables were turned this time and that Real might even win the game and end up empty-handed, and now of course they'll tell the story of their jersey and the sacred Bernabeu again and the result unfortunately proves them right

[alexbkrieger13]

Favourite clip of this story is towards the end when P is the "defender" and Magda is also on her team it seems (both yellow) and she is claiming it was offside in the back/standing next to the goal 😅

https://www.instagram.com/stories/fcbfrauen/3354103835758145187