#These are for you fellow jersey girls

[bleedingcoffee42]

[yvmoveon]

Blush, razzmatazz, chartreuse

Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.

I would share my favorite food with you

You’re my homie

Thank you. 🥹❤️‍🔥 Right back act you boo. 💜

[rafeandonlyrafe]

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

--

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

--

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.” 

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you. 

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off. 

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

[pers1st]

kiss me, try to fix it - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia putellas x lioness!reader

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst (like you guys wanted, i hope)

notes: this is pretty much just a blurb but i do have a pt2 in mind if you guys wanted it? lmk :)

Alexia awoke to a distant noise of things being thrown and landing on the carpet of your hotel room with soft thuds.

You knew that she would have a banging headache, that she would be full nausea and regret in her stomach, but you didn't bother to be quiet as you packed your things with anger cursing through your veins.

The plan for this morning had been to mend your girlfriend's hangover. Alexia wasn't a drinker and you had been shocked when you'd first seen Ona's story, which showed Alexia happily sipping on whatever alcoholic drink. Another thing about your girlfriend, however, was that she didn't do things halfheartedly, and so you had promised her yesterday, via very confusing, drunken text messages, that the rest of the Spanish girls should get her to England's hotel so that you would be able to soothe her in the morning, hold her hair, massage her scalp - whatever she needed.

Now though, the plan had changed. When you had seen those pictures surfacing on Twitter, half asleep, of Alexia kissing Jenni during their party, you had practically jumped away from your girlfriend's sleeping body. You had looked at her for a bit, mesmerized by her beauty even when her makeup was slowly coming off, staining the white pillow, her hair disheveled and her snores far from pleasant. Then, the realization had kicked in. Alexia had cheated on you. The Alexia who was so full of love for you, who was so soft for you and no one else - the Alexia who had promised to never hurt you had cheated on you. That's when the throwing had begun.

"Amor? What are you doing?", she mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely open. You huffed. Of course, she was confused. She hadn't expected you to know. The fact that she had even had the nerves to climb into your bed and snuggle up to you after what she'd done-

This Alexia, she wasn't the Alexia you knew.

"I'm leaving", you chuckled in disbelief. She couldn't possibly be surprised at this, could she?

Despite your desperate attempts to compose yourself, tears were dwelling in your eyes. How had the woman you'd loved for so many years just... crushed your relationship in her fists? Did you mean nothing to her?

Just a few hours prior to her infidelity, she'd been on the pitch with you, comforting you as best as she could after your dream of the World Cup trophy had slipped through your fingers. She'd held you as tears washed down your face, rocked you back and forth as you'd tried to catch your breath, she had asked you to swap shirts, dressing you in the fabric she'd just won the World Cup in, just because her perfume from before the match still lingered somewhere beneath her sweat and tears, knowing that it would bring you comfort.

And then, when you had turned down her offer to come to the afterparty, wanting nothing more than to be with your fellow lionesses as you dealt with the night's loss, she had gone to kiss her best friend. She had gone to ruin your relationship - your happiness, all the while wearing your England shirt, your number, your last name on her back.

It left you wondering. Had you ever meant anything to her?

You halted in your moves for a second, desperate to blink away the tears threatening to escape. Alexia moved from the bed, rubbing her eyes in confusion, crouching down beside you. Her hand landed on your shoulder, but you shook it away as though it burned your skin through the fabric of the Spanish jersey. At the realization that you were still wearing it, you stood up, pulling yourself out of the shirt and throwing at her angrily. All the while, Alexia stood, watching you in disbelief.

"Amor, what is going on?"

"Don't call me that!", you yelled back at her, grabbing the next best shirt you could find from your almost packed suitcase and tugging it on.

"Hey, whatever it is, we can fix it!", Alexia pleaded, her hand landing on your chin as you stared at the carpet beneath you. You allowed yourself to melt into her touch just this once, wanting nothing more than to dwell in her comfort, to let her hold you once more, to hear all of her excuses and just forgive her, because that was the easy thing to do. Her other hand cupped the other side of your face, gently lifting it for you to stare into her eyes. The only emotion you could read in the soft green was love.

Slowly, she inched closer towards you until her soft lips landed on yours. The taste of alcohol lingered, along with that of toothpaste. It almost made you chuckle. Had the girls made Alexia brush her teeth last night? Just after-

When you realized whom these lips had kissed last night, you pulled away.

"Ale, what the fuck?!", you yelled, and allowed the tears to fall this once. She was making your head spin. Dumbfounded, the both of you stood staring at each other, Alexia's hands retrieving from your cheeks immediately.

"Amor, what is going on?"

You barely noticed the way that Alexia actually didn't have a clue of what you were on about, to blinded by fury to realize her confused expression, her genuine worry, the fact that there wasn't a trace of guilt.

"Don't call me that!", you yelled once more, but it came out as more of a plea. You weren't one to beg in arguments, but you knew that if she kept this facade up, if she kept this close to you, if she kept telling you how the two of you could fix this, you would actually believe her, melt into her touch, do whatever she asked of you. You would take the easy route, because it meant staying with Alexia. Staying with the woman you loved more than yourself. But you couldn't. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you deserved better.

So, you packed your last things together, not bothering to pack the jersey of your first tournament final as England captain, knowing Alexia had stained it with infidelity, possibly the only mark your washing machine couldn't ever get rid of, and left her there- confused, hurt, possibly angered at your lack of explanation. But it didn't matter to you. It was early still, but you banged the door closed, only to find Lucy standing in the hallway.

"What's all this yelling about?", she mumbled, still dressed in her pajamas. When she noticed your packed luggage and the pained expression on your face, her expression changed from annoyed to-

Pity.

That was all it took for you to break down in her arms.

[dilfl0v3rss]

stiletto’s

summary: basketball player!ony unknowingly gave his teammates a sneak peak of what life was like at home with you…

cw: smut, back scratching, cuts, mentions of blood/bleeding, ony picking on underclassmen

word count: 1.3k

“fuck man what happened t’you?”

the chuckles and gasps of his teammates made ony’s face full with confusion as he turned around from his locker. they had just finished a hard practice, the events from the past three hours leaving each of the men with glistening wet bodies as they cooled off and changed into their regular clothes.

for some reason, ony’s back has been acquiring a slight sting as the drills got more and more intense. constant sentences of “you good o?” and “do you need to see a trainer” were thrown his way by his coaches as everyone watched the star basketball player’s body move uncomfortably in his practice jersey.

“i’m good coach, jersey just scratchin me a lil” he replied before continuing on with his workout, ignoring the prickly pain for the remainder of the practice.

as he reached the locker room, ony made quick work of removing his “itchy jersey”, sighing as his back was instantly relieved from any discomfort. his sigh brought the attention of the second captain, and his good friend, eren.

“fuck man, what happened t’you” he chuckled, drawing attention towards the head captain as the rest of his teammates began to laugh. “ooouu”’s and “oh shit”’s began to be released all over the locker room as ony just stared at everyone in confusion. “fuck y’all laughing at?” he mumbled, a smirk growing on his face as he turned around fully to see what was funny. “you look like you got attacked by some typa animal or sum” one of his teammates said, making the darkskin male even more confused as he looked himself over repeatedly.

“what you mean, i’m bleeding or sum?” as he spoke, his dark eyes raked up and down his front, checking his arms and the back of his legs as well to try to understand what they were talking about. eren rolled his eyes in annoyance, grabbing his friend by the shoulders before walking him towards the toilets. “look bro” he mumbled before turning ony’s back towards the mirror for him to see.

his jaw nearly touched the ground as ony realized the reason for his pain earlier. there were scratches on top of scratches all over his back. the red, wounded skin probably getting irritated by his sweat and the feeling of his jersey rubbing against it during the practice. “oh shit” he mumbled, earning laughs all around the room as he looked at the different marks he had. “ion know if i should be happy or concerned furreal. i just know your girl be fighting for her life”

ony rolled his eyes at his friends comment, lightly punching his chest before making his way back to his locker to finish changing. “man that girl is fine. and for the three little niggas in the back that think ion know you be in her dms, talking about how you ‘don’t understand what she see’ in me.” as he spoke, he made sure to make direct eye contact with the three freshman boys that have been going to war in your dms, the three of them staring back at him with wide eyes as they tried to hide behind each other. ony just smirked, his pearly white teeth making an appearance as he continued on with his statement.

“let this be a little taste of one of the many things she ‘sees’ in me, and until you get a shorty to see that in you, stay out my wife phone.” the locker room erupted with laughter. some of his fellow upperclassmen clapping while others dapped him up. the younger men gave their friends sorry looks before carrying on with getting dressed, embarrassment running through them. after things began to quiet down ony make quick work of throwing on his nike tech, without a shirt since the tight fit would irritate his back, and his pajama pants before heading towards his car, the previous nights events replaying in his mind as he drove with a smirk.

“ohmygodohmygod i can’ttt!” you whined, your arms wrapped securely around your boyfriends neck as he pounded you into the wall of your bedroom. ony’s wide hands were spread on the bottom of your thighs, his deep voice caressing your ear as he fed you all of his inches. “can’t what mama? can’t watch y’mouth or can’t take this dick?” his hips moved harder, your pretty brown eyes loosing focus as you screamed out at the newfound angle he was fucking you in. your eyes began to water with salty tears as you tried your best to take everything he was giving you, “n-neither.”

ony moved his head from the crook of your neck, giving you a dissatisfied look as he tightened his grip on your thighs. “don’t play wit me….not when i can easily have you like this.” at the sound of his last word, ony pulled your legs up a little higher, opening you up more for him to lightly graze your cervix. you wailed at the feeling, fat tears sliding down your cheeks as you began to run your stiletto nails down his broad back. ony payed the action no mind, hips never faltering as he continued to pound into you. “okay okay okayyyy m’sorry furreal now pa” your quick change in attitude brought a satisfied smirk to your lovers face, his brown lips parting as he brought them back to your neck.

“thas my good girl. you too pretty t’be doin allat cussin, right baby?” your walls fluttered at the sound of his voice. the words sliding off his tongue were like butter and you couldn’t help but reply, your words coming out whiny and broken as you tried your best to hold in your release. “s’r-right daddy” you pushed out, it took all of your focus just to say two words and your boyfriend could tell. by the way you were gripping and scratching his back, squeezing your thighs in his hold, and clenching your walls around him ony could tell that all it took was a couple more thrusts to have you cumming all over him. and since you realized your mistake he had no problem letting you.

ony finished his assault on your neck, his lips leaving dark purple marks all over the sensitive skin as he moved his face towards yours. low brown eyes staring into glassy rolled ones as your man slowly stepped from the wall. he moved towards the bed, never missing a stroke as he laid you down on the silk sheets. he left it to you to wrap your legs around him while he fucked you and you instinctively did so, stoking you deeply at a steady pace. “oh my g- ony m’gonna cum…y-you’re gonna make me cum” your eyes welded at the feeling, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you dug your sharp nails into his back, dragging them down his dark brown skin.

“let me have it ma, cum all on this dick wit that pretty pussy” at his words you broke, tears falling from your eyes as you let everything go. your vision blurred and your body tightened, nothing but broken whines leaving your lips as you came. ony finished at the same time, sinking deeper and deeper into you as he released his hot, sticky ropes into your walls. “thas my good girl”

a devilish smirk was on ony’s face as he drove now, his dick twitching in his pants as he thought of you. the way you’d moan his name, the sight of your pretty eyes practically begging him to give you all he had, the feeling of your milky white stilettos running down his back. ony couldn’t stop himself from picking up his speed as he drove, one hand holding the steering wheel in a tight grip as the other palmed and rubbed his aching dick. he couldn’t wait to get home and do it all again.

[copper-16]

We Can't Figure Out What It Means

When Elena starts asking for something with a word that doesn't make any sense, Mapi and Ingrid enlist the help of their teammates to figure it out.

(a/n: I feel like so many of my stories are so angsty that getting to just sit here and write tooth ROTTING fluff is healing me a little inside. Anyways. Please enjoy :)

Ingrid and Mapi typically brought Elena to training one day a week with them. It wasn’t hard to have the baby at the training ground when everyone there wanted to hold her and say hello, but the two Barcelona players still worried that she would get in the way if she came too often. 

Nevermind the fact that everyone's faces lit up the minute that Elena came in through the door, or that there was genuinely always someone ready to hold the little girl. All of the Barcelona girls absolutely adored Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter, and she was admittedly making the baby fever run rampant throughout the team, though nobody else had acted on that urge just yet. 

Elena had missed the last few weeks at training due to various conflicts that had kept the little girl away, so when Mapi pulled her little Barcelona jersey that she always wore to the training ground out in the morning, the baby was immediately shrieking in excitement. Because as much as the Barcelona girls loved Elena, she loved them just as much. 

They managed to get everyone dressed, fed, and out the door in a surprisingly easy fashion. Elena was a relatively simple and easygoing baby, and when she knew they were headed to the training ground she was always on her best behavior, excited about what was to come. 

Ingrid turned the radio on a low setting as Mapi drove them toward the training center, with Elena babbling away in the back happily. 

“Oh yeah? How about that!” Mapi hummed as Elena continued to talk away, none of her words really making sense but remaining insistent nonetheless. She was at the age where she was starting to say some actual words, but for the most part she was still just getting out sounds and hums without much rhyme or reason to them. 

But Mapi encouraged it anyway, having read in a baby book that it was good for development either way. Ingrid looked back at their little girl with a soft smile, reaching back to brush some of her sandy blonde curls away from her face. 

Elena giggled happily at her as they pulled into the parking lot, both women getting out as Mapi went to grab their daughter while Ingrid got their stuff. 

The Spaniard had just hauled the little girl out of her car seat before Elena was twisting in her arms, gesturing to the ground. 

“Mami, walk?” Elena asked, her voice light and hopeful. Mapi smiled as she nodded, letting her down and holding out her hand for Elena to grasp. She started to toddle forward, gripping the brunette’s hand with iron clad strength as she ventured forward on unsteady little legs. 

Ingrid had two bags over her shoulders, one for her and her wife and one for Elena, but she watched the scene in front of her with thinly veiled horror. She knew that their daughter needed to learn to walk, knew that it was important for her to practice, but it still made her nervous. She didn’t want her to get hurt, or for something to happen to her. 

“Ingrid, she needs to walk,” Mapi reminded the Norwegian softly, having looked back to see the anxiety painted across her wifes features. Ingrid softens slightly, swallowing thickly and nodding with uncertainty, as though she was trying to convince herself of the brunette’s words. 

“Right, no I know, I just…I worry that something is going to happen to her,” Ingrid admits, watching as Elena stumbles slightly, but thanks to her connection with Mapi’s hand the Spaniard can keep her upright, looking back at her fellow defender with a look that reeked of ‘I told you so.’

“She is going to be fine, princesa, I promise. Plus, she is so close to the ground, how could she possibly hurt herself that badly!” The Spaniard argued, and Ingrid’s expression soured in the face of her wifes logic, and she held her hand up grumpily. 

“You’re close to the ground,” Ingrid argued, and Mapi rolled her eyes with a smile, preparing to say something back when Elena piped up from below them. 

“Le?” She asked, her eyes big and hopeful as she looked at her mothers. Both of them frowned, looking from the baby to one another. 

“Do you know what ‘le’ is?” The Norwegian asked in a hushed tone, and Mapi could do nothing but shrug slightly, shaking her head. 

“I have no idea what ‘le’ is,” she admitted, and upon hearing the word spoken again Elena said it a little louder this time, looking even more hopeful than before. Unable to find an answer, the three of them made their way into the facility anyways. With the chaos of everything, the center back was quick to pick her baby up, ignoring Elena’s protests that she could walk. 

The little girl’s upset was forgotten the minute they made their way into the locker room, replaced with pure excitement at seeing everyone. The whole team was there, with the exception of a few of the injured players who were in the gym already, working on their rehab. 

“Jay! Jay!” Elena half cheered-half shrieked as they approached Mapi’s locker, and the baby was promptly reaching for Jana as they arrived next to her. 

“Hi Elena” The younger defender cheered, plucking the little girl from her fellow defenders arms and wrapping her in a hug. “Oh I missed you!” 

Elena giggled into the defender's chest, making herself comfortable for a moment before she poked her head up, looking around at everyone. Most of the other girls were already changed, and Mapi and Ingrid were quick to do the same as everyone flocked to Jana to greet the little girl. They had missed seeing her the last few weeks, and she was equally thrilled to see everyone again. 

The sandy blonde girl allowed for herself to be passed around to everyone, letting all of them press gentle kisses to her cheeks as she babbled and giggled with excitement. 

It was when she ended up in Mariona’s arms that she looked around, a wrinkle appearing in her brow. When she doesn’t see the answer to her concern in the locker room, Elena turns to Mariona, her little eyebrows furrowed together. 

“Le?” Elena asks again, and Mariona feels a wave of confusion settling over her as she looks toward Mapi and Ingrid. The Norwegian and Spaniard looked at their daughter and then back to each other again. 

“What’s ‘le’?” The forward asked, and Mapi shook her head once more. 

“We can’t figure out what it means!” The brunette explained earnestly, more than a little lost on the meaning of what Elena kept asking for. 

“Le? Like Leah? Or Lia?” Keira suggested, turning toward Mariona for an answer. But the forward immediately shook her head, bouncing the baby as she answered.  

“She’s never met either of those people,” Mariona pointed out, and the midfielder deflated as she realized that the Spanish woman was right. 

“Maybe she means…Frido? Le, as in like Fridolina?” Aitana suggested, and all of them looked at each other in agreement, considering that it is a good idea. “I believe she is on the pitch already, if we want to go out!” 

The rest of the team made their way out toward the pitch for practice, with Ingrid carrying Elena as they walked. The baby played with her mothers thick, long ponytail as they walked, keeping herself as entertained as possible. 

“Frido!” Ingrid called out as they came closer, and Elena perked up at the mention of her godmother. 

“Fro-fro!” Elena clapped her hands together as Frido ran over, ignoring Ingrid entirely in favor of the baby in her arms. 

“Elena!” The blonde cried as Ingrid rolled her eyes, her hands coming to rest on her hips. 

“I’m right here too, don’t you know?” Ingrid pointed out, but her Swedish friend simply shrugged, settling Elena on her hip. 

“I saw you yesterday. I haven’t seen my guddotter in weeks!” Frido exclaimed, bouncing Elena up and down as she tickled the little girl's belly. Elena doubled over in laughter, and everyone couldn’t help but look over, completely entranced with the happy little girl. 

When she had finally caught her breath, Elena looked up at Frido with an expectant expression. 

“Le?” She asked once more, and Ingrid dropped her head into her hands as everyone groaned. Frido looked around in confusion, asking what was going on. 

“We can’t figure out for the life of us what ‘le’ is!” Keira explained as understanding washed over the Swedish forward. She looked down at the little girl, who was looking around as though she was trying to find whatever ‘le’ happened to be. 

“She looks like she’s looking for something. Maybe whatever ‘le’ is, is out here?” Frido tries, and since nobody else can come up with a better answer, they decide to take that course of action. 

So while the entire team warms up, they decide that the best course of action is to just show Elena everything that they’re working with, in the hopes of getting to the bottom of what ‘le’ is. 

Patri shows her a medicine ball, and the little girl slaps her hands against it but is otherwise uninterested, allowing the midfielder to boop the top of her head before she leaves her alone. 

Esme picks her up as she and Salma walk the little girl over to a pole that is stuck into the ground. Salma shakes it slightly, while Esme points to it, trying to capture Elena’s attention. But the baby is entirely uninterested, instead reaching for Salma in lieu of engaging with the pole. The young forward is quick to make an exit, more than a little scared at the prospect of being left alone with the baby, or having to hold her. It was a running joke that Elena loved Salma, but the young forward consistently panicked whenever the little girl was around, having never really done anything with babies before in her life. 

Marta and Lucy tag team showing her first the big goal, and then the little ones they use in practice. Lucy sets her up with a ball and Marta holds both of her hands as Elena steps into the ball, trying to kick it and sending it rolling forward a coupon of centimeters into the goal. 

The English woman immediately snatches the baby up, holding her up and running around in celebration with excitement until she receives a telling off in the form of Ingrid shouting Lucy! Put my baby down!

Mapi quickly collects Elena, and with Irene’s help she shows her the foam rollers and step up blocks, but nothing appears to catch the little one’s attention. She asks each person she is with “Le?” and none of them have a good enough answer for her in her little mind. 

All of the girls have resigned themselves to the fact that they aren’t going to figure out what the baby is talking about, when they end up actually getting their answer. 

The girls have just broken from their water break, and Elena was grabbed by Keira and taken away from her blanket and toys to go hang out with the team instead. The baby was settled on the grass, patting it happily as Mapi sat with her, doing the same. Ingrid smiled down at the two of them, unable not to see the qualities of her wife inside of their daughter in times like this as they both greeted the grass together with big smiles. 

Mapi gets distracted looking back at Irene, who is asking her a question about something they’ve been doing, that she entirely misses the way that Elena’s face lights up as she gets to her feet, noticing something in the distance. 

She can’t really run yet, but that doesn’t stop Elena from taking off at a fast toddle away from the group, her shriek of joy getting everyone’s attention. 

“LE!” Elena exclaimed loudly, her feet moving fast in her quest as everyone turned to see what was going on. 

“Elena!” Alexia ran toward the little girl, ignoring the slight protest of her knee as she bent down and scooped the baby up, holding her tightly to her chest. Elena practically melted into the blonde, wrapping her arms around her godmother's neck. The captain had been in the gym all day doing rehab for her knee discomfort, but she had decided to come out on a break to say hello to Elena and everyone else. 

Everyone at the water cooler let out a collective ohhh as they all realized that Elena meant ‘le’ as in ‘Alexia.’ The Barcelona captain tilted her head to the side in confusion, still holding the little girl's body tightly to her own. 

“What is going on?” Alexia asked, not understanding what all of her teammates seemed to be talking about. 

“Elena has been asking for you all day, but all she’s been saying is ‘le,’ so none of us knew what she was talking about until you walked out here,” Mapi explained as Elena leaned back slightly, reaching up to gently poke at Alexia’s cheek. 

“Le!” She babbled, looking from the captain to her Mami with a pleased expression. Everyone around them looked at the two with wide smiles, as Elena pressed herself into Alexia with a big smile spread across her cheeks.

“Did you miss your Tia Alexia?” Mapi asks, reaching forward to poke the little girl's belly. Elena nodded as twisted away from her Mami and further into the Spanish captain, and Alexia simply turned her body away from the defender before she started jogging away. 

“Nope, nope, Elena is all mine!” Alexia yelled back at Mapi, Elena babbling away at her happily as Mapi chased after the two of them. The little girl clung tightly to the blonde, but she smiled back at the Spanish defender as she chased after the pair, calling out. 

“Hey, wait a minute! Bring back my baby!”

[alotofpockets]

Found family | Lotte Wubben-Moy x Arsenal!Reader

Where your absent father randomly shows up at a match and you spot him interacting with your daughter

Warnings: absent father making his return, short mention of homophobia & the rest of it is just fluffy

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k

-----

“Babe, we have to go!” You had packed everything you needed in the car, while Lotte was getting your daughter dressed for the day. When you hear Maddie’s little footsteps running towards you, you turn around. “Oh Peanut, look at you!” She’s clad in her very own Arsenal jersey. “Are you ready to go?” Maddie looks at you funny, “I need my shoes, silly Mommy!” Her giggles ring through the hallway. Lotte was lovingly watching her little family from the doorframe. “It is a bit silly to leave without shoes, let’s put these on.” She dangles the tiny shoes in front of her. 

Maddie had been going with the both of you to matches since she was just a little baby. Arsenal had been great with providing the space for you to be able to. They hired a childcare professional to watch Maddie, who had been there since Maddie was just a little baby, so the two of them had definitely bonded a lot over the past few years. 

Before you’d hand your little girl off to her though, she joined the two of you in the locker room. She was well loved by the girls, who might not be family by blood, but each and everyone of them was one of her aunties. “Maddie!” The girls cheered when you walked it. You chuckle, “I remember a time where you’d be happy to see us.” 

Your Arsenal family was your found family, and you could not be more grateful for the love and support they had thrown your way with Maddie. Your kid loved to spend the night at any one of her auntie’s places, any time you and Lotte needed some help. 

“Hey Peanut, are you ready to hang out with Dana?” Maddie looked to be deep in thought, “Only after I said bye to everyone.” She found a way to spend a little more time in the locker room, as she went around and gave all the players a hug. “I thought you liked Dana, Peanut.” She runs into Lotte’s arms. “I do, but I also like my aunties.” You squish her cheeks. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, my cheeky little monster.” 

Dana took Maddie into the stands, to their usual seat right behind the bench, and soon after you all ran onto the field to start warming up for the match against West Ham. You waved to Maddie when you spotted her in the crowd, and started your stretches. 

While you were running some drills, Viv got your attention. “Who is that with Maddie?” You look over and your blood starts boiling instantly. “Get Lotte.” You say without answering her question and rush off in the direction of your daughter.

“Hi Peanut.” You ignore the man standing next to her. She runs into your arms, “Mommy!” She says enthusiastically, not expecting to be reunited with you so soon. You hold her close to your chest and feel Lotte’s protective hand on your back the moment she realises what is going on.

“Love, can you please take Maddie?” Lotte doesn’t want to leave you, but also knew that neither one of you wanted your daughter to be involved in any of it. “Oh come on.” The man interjects. “Not in front of my kid.” You stop him. Maddie doesn’t understand what is going on, but lets her Mama take her onto the field. 

Luckily Lotte quickly walks into Katrina. “Hey, is everything okay?” The fellow mother asks. “Eh family emergency.” Lotte settles on. Both their heads fly towards you raising your voice at the man. “Want me to take her to Clara? She over there with Harper, the kids could play together.” Lotte nods, “Yes please, that is very kind.” Lotte turns to Maddie, “Wanna go play with Harper?” The young girl was easily persuaded to go with Katrina. “Thank you.” Lotte mouths before rushing back to you.

Dana, who doesn’t know what was going on, but realises she might have done something wrong starts apologising. “I’m sorry, he said he was her grandpa.” You shake your head, “It’s not your fault, don’t worry about that. Biologically he is her grandfather.” You turn your head towards your father who had been absent since your teen years, “But biologically is the only way he is.”

The man starts getting annoyed, “I have every right to get to know my grandchild!” Lotte gets back to your side before you can respond. “Don’t worry, she’s with Clara and Harper. Let’s take this inside though.” Quickly she points out where Maddie is in the crowd to Dana, so she can join her again. Lotte starts guiding you inside and your father follows.

“You have absolutely no right to get to know her.” You respond once you’re out of sight from the crowd. “She is my blood, you can’t tell me I can’t get to know her.” Your brows furrow in anger. “A blood relation is the only one you will ever have with her. You lost any rights the day you abandoned me to start a new family.”

Lotte is back within a few seconds, “That’s him.” The security guard nods and asks him to leave. “I have the right to be here. You can’t just set me out of the stadium.” The security guard looks over to you, having heard the earlier commotion. “Ma’am, would you like to ban this man from the stadium?” You’re grateful for his help, “Yes please.” 

“A girl needs a father figure.” He tries, but you just roll your eyes. Of course besides being a jerk in general, he was also homophobic. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that, she has plenty of family to look up to. Not that she could ever look up to a man like you.” You were getting riled up, and while that was rightful, Lotte interfered.

“You need to leave this stadium right now, or I will get someone from security to walk you out.” She said sternly, her hand still supportively on your back. ”I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to my daughter.” You shake your head, “I am not your daughter.” With your head turned to your wife you ask her to get security. 

Once the security guard had led your father around the corner, you collapsed into Lotte’s arms. You had been scared of your father randomly showing up in your life for a long time, such a long time that you had finally started to let it go and believe that he never would. But there he was, and all your feelings came to the surface again. 

Lotte held you close and whispered reassuring words into your ear. She was your anchor, the person that kept you grounded. “Do you want to sit this match out?” You shook your head. “No, he’s taken too much from me in the past, I am not letting him have more.” 

With a look of determination you made your way back onto the pitch, quickly explaining to the staff that you had a family emergency. You finish warming up with the rest of the team. Some of them had questioning looks on their faces, but figured you would tell them what happened if you felt like you wanted to share and once you were ready to. For now, you all had a match to win.

And win you did. Viv made it 1-0 in the first half, and West Ham scored the equaliser right at the start of the second half. The 2-1 had come from you in the 87th minute, heading the ball into the net off a corner kick. The team went all in for the celebratory hugs, but all you wanted to do was celebrate it with Maddie, after what happened earlier.

You ran towards the side of the field where Maddie was sitting, with Lotte following behind. You sent a bunch of kisses her way into the crowd, while Lotte hugged your side.

When the final whistle blew, you made your way towards Maddie again and reached over the border to get her onto the field. Hugging her extra tight, she was squirming in your arms, ready to run around on the field. You put her down and give Clara a quick hug. Katrina made her way over too and carried Harper over the border. “Thank you.” You say as you turn to her. “Of course, us mom’s have got to stick together.”

Maddie and Harper ran onto the field together, quickly finding a ball and kicking it around. You stayed close to them, not wanting to leave your daughter out of sight just yet. Eventually Harper and Katrina make their way back to their team. Maddie continues playing with the ball, and is currently making her way to the goal with the ball at her feet. The crowd behind the goal started cheering as she got closer and erupted the moment she kicked it in. 

You lift your arms in celebration, and pick her up to twirl her in the air. “Woohoo, another goal for the Arsenal!” Maddie giggles as she’s flying around. After that you take her onto your hip. “I love you very much, Peanut.” The way she hugs you back melts your heart. “I love you too, Mommy.” 

Lotte joins the two of you once she’s done making her round with the fans. “How did I get so lucky? Both my girls scored tonight!” Maddie runs into Lotte’s arms, who lifts her and twirls her around. “My little star girl.” She said proudly, before looking over to you. “How are you doing?” You smile at her, “I’ll be alright. I’ve got all I need right here.”

The three of you walk off the field together and into the dressing room, where Maddie proudly shares with everyone that she scored a goal. 

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[trulyhblue]

MISS AUSTRALIA (PART ONE)

Katie Mccabe x Aussie!Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, praise kink, angry sex, dom! Katie, sub! Reader, enemies, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap.

A/N — I know Mackenzie wasn't at Camp but let's just skip past that :)

Masterlist

___________________

The game against Arsenal had been a complete disaster. No one could've prepared you for the monstrosity it turned out to be.

Two days before the long-awaited London Derby, you were in Canada alongside your fellow Australian teammates, basking in the double defeat against your Chelsea teammates Jessie Fleming, Ashleigh Lawrence, and the Canadian National Team. To be fair, it hadn't been all that bad. Some Canadian fans were dubbing it ‘revenge’ after the World Cup, but a friendly was hardly much vengeance in your eyes. They had beaten your B team with their A team, and you had only played the second game alongside the usual starters like Steph, Hayley and Alanna.

By the end of the second game, you had swapped shirts with Jessie, who smothered you in forehead kisses and walked alongside Ashleigh for the lap around the stadium. Steph and Caitlin joined shortly after, both of their jackets covering their sports bras; they had given their jerseys away.

Soon enough, Kyra filtered over. You poked your tongue out to the girl, who giggled and reciprocated the actions before hugging your waist. Dozens of fans banked against the barricade, holding out signs and jerseys to sign. Phones stacked on top of hands reached out as the group of you travelled around the loop. You still had a firm hold on Kyra as you peeled your shirt off, handing it to a little girl with big, bulky glasses. You signed her poster, took a photo, and thanked her before waving goodbye. Your boots had been cuffed and peeling after a nasty tackle by your opponent, so you didn't waste any time in unlacing them and passing them over to a pair of twin girls, who hugged each other and cried at the notion.

Steph and Caitlin mingled with their respected fans while you and Kyra continued to use markers and pens to sign anything that was within arm’s reach.

“Oi, y/l/n!” Caitlin called out, your head turning toward the girl who stood a few feet away. “C’mere, look at this.”

Kyra waddled beside you as you made your way over to where Caitlin had pointed. You couldn't help but notice the slight huddle of fans that had accumulated in that spot, several cameras filming the interactions with cheeky smiles decorating everyone’s faces.

You caught sight of the massive poster, reading it with a blank expression, knowing the cameras were trying to catch your reaction. The sign was coloured in red and blue, with a photo of you on one side, and none other than Katie McCabe on the other. You tried hard to conceal the scowl on your face, hiding behind a sly smirk. You ran your hand over the writing: ‘YELLOW CARD DERBY’

It was no secret that both you and McCabe had a notorious reputation for receiving yellow cards from referees. It was a running joke in the Football community, starting from when you had your debut for the Matildas at fourteen, against Ireland. Katie had gotten a card that game too, both of you receiving it for tackling one another. You played for Sydney FC before you moved to Chelsea, playing your debut match against Arsenal six months after your seventeenth birthday.

Katie had been sent off that match for nearly breaking your ankle, a red displayed in the air before she stopped off with a heated scowl across her face. You knew of her reputation from International games, recalling the older woman as an aggressive little shit that hated you for no reason.

London Derbys started to become all the more heated. After a while, both sides tried their hardest to not put you on at the same time, pressured into thinking that they’d end up being a player down due to your rivalry.

It got so bad that people started picking sides. Dividing the two London teams and causing hate to spread. You were younger than Katie by six years, which seemed to be the leading factor in why people believe that Katie is too harsh. On the other hand, Arsenal supporters reckon that you are immature on the pitch. In prior matches, you had been called a whinger, especially when you were around your sister-like teammate, Hayley Raso.

It is safe to say that you and Katie were not on agreeing terms, even off the pitch, with mutual friends to keep you at bay. You both competed for everything. You were neck and neck in the Ballon d'Or, scoresheet, heat maps, everything. It didn't matter if you weren't playing against one another, you were always compared.

But it didn't seem to bother either of you. In fact, you were certain Katie enjoyed it.

You did too.

“Do you agree with it?” Steph laughed beside you, swinging her arm around your shoulders, pointing towards a printed photo of you pushing Katie to the ground, blood smeared across your nose and lips. Beside it was another photo of the referee pointing towards both of you with red cards. You were looking at Katie with utter turmoil; your Australian Jersey was covered in mud, hers had streaks of dirt covering her socks, and a testing smirk written across her face. Behind the pair of you was a younger-looking Steph, her hand covering the shock on her face.

“None of those were my fault.” You answered, watching as the huddled crowd around you chuckled at your response. You didn't want to say the wrong thing, you didn't know if what you said was that funny. “I promise I don't do it on purpose.”

“Oh, yeah, right, Little Miss Goody-Too-Shoes.” Caitlin scoffed, poking your side. “I've seen you play, you're a ride-off.”

Kyra giggled like usual, swaying her hips into yours. She pointed towards the red card photo. “I don't remember that being an accident.”

You don't exactly know why, but your cheeks are stained a solid red, staining your freckles with a tint of embarrassment. Katie had pushed you over, laughing when your face met the cold, wet mud. It was not a pleasant memory you look back on fondly. “Shush, Ky.”

You felt a presence behind you lifting you up by a grip around your waist. You were pulled onto the shoulders of Macca, earning a yelp to sound from your lips, the interaction leaving fans laughing even more.

“Oh, Baby, what's wrong?” Macca said teasingly, holding your thighs with her hands. You looked down at her and frowned, the team’s nickname for you left you feeling a tad humiliated considering it was in front of people who didn't know of the handle. Kyra took out her phone, taking a few shots of the sight with the intention of putting it in her photo dump.

When Macca caught sight of the poster, she cracked up. “Oh God, that's good.”

“Put me down, Mackenzie.” You groaned, kicking your feet half-heartedly into her side. The Keeper did as she was told, but made the show of huffing and puffing as she let you off her shoulders.

“Do you want me to sign it or something?” You said to the boy holding the poster, watching as his eyes lit up as he nodded.

“Are you a Chelsea or Arsenal fan, mate?” Steph asked him, waiting as the boy shook his head.

“West Ham.”

This made Mackenzie’s head snap towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah, who the fuck supports West Ham?” Caitlin questioned, yelping when Steph whacked her in the chest. “Language, Cait.”

“You're a real one, mate,” Mackenzie said, walking up to the boy and hugging him, making him smile like it was Christmas.

“Who do you think’s gonna win on Saturday?” Kyra egged on, shoving past Macca and grinning at the boy, indiscreetly pointing towards herself and the other Arsenal girls.

The boy looked between them and shrugged, folding his sign back up when you finished signing it. His eyes landed on you. “Well, you're my favourite player, but Chelsea are always too cocky.”

“No lies said.” Kyra said, yearning you to push her playfully.

“What if I score a goal, will you go for me then?” You asked, holding out your hands.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but that's if you get past Katie.”

You couldn't help but scoff, shaking her head. The girls around you smirked at your competitive nature, sharing knowing looks.

“I don't remember the last time McCabe scored against me.”

***

You were glad that at least you kept that statement true.

The video of you reacting to the poster had gone viral, and everyone found the interaction utterly hilarious. Not only did you have a reputation for cards, but you also had one for being a sub in important games like this.

But that assumption didn't seem to make an appearance today, as you waited in the tunnel beside Jessie, holding the hand of a little girl, waiting as you caught sight of Caitlin in front of you

“Are you alright?” Sam muttered, turning to face you with an inch of worry apparent in her eyes.

You looked back at her, nodding. “Yes, just tired.”

You said this in truth. You hadn't had much sleep over the past week due to the different time zones you were living in. Sam had an injury during the Friendly, therefore not being able to compete alongside your Matildas team. But the fatigue was apparent in everyone’s eyes. You even noticed it in Kyra when you saw her on the bench as you walked towards your starting position.

The fans were screaming at the tops of their lungs, but you slowly drowned them out as you honed in to concentrate. You looked to your left, finding Jessie throwing a thumbs up towards you. You smiled back at her, gulping down the last of your anxiety before the whistle blew.

You knew this would be a hard game before it even started, but Arsenal’s level of aggression was completely unexpected.

Fouls were handed out left and right, followed by a bit of push and shove from either side. You fought your way up and down the wing, waiting for an opportunity to surpass. Both teams were angsty with the ball, throwing easy chances away as the crowd grew in volume.

Sam hadn't come down to defend like she usually does, instead waiting past the halfway mark as the midfield continued to pass to and fro.

You grew annoyed at the lack of ball time you were receiving, even when you made a point to be out and open near the corner. Your breathing was ragged and tested, your patience running thin when the crowd of Chelsea players swarmed Victoria Pelova and leaving Beth Mead to shoot in the open.

“There were four of you, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered, dragging your hands over your face as you sighed, returning to your starting position once more.

It started to become ridiculous when you still hadn't received the ball, yelling out on the wing as the minutes passed with Arsenal in front. You hadn't been in the midst of any tackles or gameplay until the thirteenth minute when one of your teammates crossed the ball to you over the halfway line.

You dragged your feet across the ball, feeling the grass hit your feet as you sprinted toward the goal. You stepped past Lotte Wubben-Moy, leaving an open space to slot it through toward Kaneryd.

The ball had left your feet with a concentrated pass before your balance was cut short. A potent force left your legs to crumble beneath you. Your body collided with another, leaving your lungs without any air. Your head spun with nausea, the speed at which you were taken out leaving you heaving for breath. It took you a few moments to register the figure you had landed on, and how the crowd went wild at the shot that had passed Zinsberger.

“I’d never thought you liked being on top, y/l/n.”

The voice made your stomach churn even more.

“Surprised you have enough brain cells to think, McCabe.”

You rolled off her with a groan, your legs aching from the impact. You felt the hands of one of your teammates soothe the distant pain in your head, causing you to roll onto your back.

Instead, you were met by a red jersey. “You alright, Baby?” Steph asked, helping you up.

You didn't have time to answer Steph. She was bombarded with a shove from Lauren James, who turned to the ref with her hands in the air. “That’s a red, ref! The ball left her feet!”

“James, do not yell at me.” The referee fired back. “McCabe, this is your first and final, am I clear?”

McCabe shrugged her shoulders. “I slipped.”

Lauren looked like she was about to pounce. “Oh, you little-”

“What, eh?” Katie walked up to challenge the girl back. “Can Miss Australia not speak for herself?”

Kim Little, Arsenal’s captain, appeared in the mix. “Katie, that's enough! Walk away.”

“Can't handle a tackle, what a baby, shouldn't be on the field—”

“McCabe!” Kim snapped, which shut up whatever rant Katie was about to begin.

The ref turned towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder. The action was met with Arsenal boos. “Y/l/n, are you alright?” Looking concerned at your pained countenance. Lauren rubbed a hand across your back, eagerly awaiting the card Katie deserved.

“I’m fine.”

Maybe you shouldn't said no — maybe that would've landed Katie with a card. But you knew you’d be sent off if you did. You had just scored an assist to level your team. Katie McCabe of all people was not going to ruin that.

The game continued, your left ankle feeling tampered with as more tackles progressed.

It was clear that Arsenal were hungry for this win, leaving Chelsea left and right with calculated footwork and sprints across both their defensive and attacking lines.

When an Arsenal corner arrives shortly after, you run back to defend the post alongside Jessie. Steph is walking to take the corner with the ball in her hands, giving both teams time to find their spot in the box. Pelova was in front of you, Russo to your right. The majority of your midfielders banked against the goal in an attempt to stop the chances of Arsenal moving up two-one.

Steph was about to kick when you felt someone against you. Unknown hands grip your hips tightly, maneuvering them with ease that your body was stuck to them. Your breath hitched when you were pushed forward, forced to leave your place by the post.

“Miss Australia bent over for me?” The voice whispered, pricking the alcove of your neck. “With all these people watching? Guess she's not as innocent as everyone thinks.”

You weren't watching Steph’s long shot into the box, too angered by Katie to care. You didn't notice Amanda Ilestedt’s header into the middle of the goal, hitting the back of the net with a swoosh, met by North London cheers. Hell, you didn't fucking notice anything except Katie falling to the ground, your arms propelling her with so much force you fought to hide the flame that hindered your cheeks.

The whistle blew, causing celebrations to halt when both teams found the two of you glaring daggers at one another.

“Get off her, Y/l/n,” Wälti called out, running towards you and pushing you backwards.

“Nah, what a fucking ride-off.” You heard another Arsenal player say, making you stomp in the opposite direction, huffing in annoyance when the referee called you back.

Kim Little and Sam Kerr were standing by their respective players when the referee was scolding the two of you. It was obvious that you were painted as the immature one since it was made out that you needed to control your emotions more.

“I won't have you manhandling each other like idiots on my pitch. You play fair or you don't play. Understood?”

The four of you mumbled your understanding, filing back into place begrudgingly. Sam was ordering Jessie to swap with you, but you found yourself shaking your head, promising her you’d pull it in.

Turns out, you didn't.

The same circumstance of you pretty much skin-on-skin with Katie happened after Alessia Russo’s chip against Berger. 3-1 for an undefeated team was embarrassing, and no matter how many times you fed the ball well enough to become an assist, the communication just wasn't there.

“Get the fuck off me, McCabe.” You seethed, trying your best to squirm your way out of her grip, but to no avail.

“You need to stop all that wriggling, Y/l/n,” Katie responded, the smirk on her face was evident even from behind. “Those red cheeks couldn't have been from running.”

“I’m not red.”

“Ha, yeah, you and London both.”

Katie and you both got your yellow cards in the second half.

You knew people would find it funny online — the fact that you both got it at the same time — but the game felt like it had gone on forever, and at this point, all of Chelsea’s players were defenders.

You had a clear shot of the goal after Niamh Charles curled the ball to your wing, leaving you and Katie battling for possession near the sideline.

You couldn't help but notice how high her hands had gotten on your waist. Your knees were bending slightly so you could attain more balance, but maneuvering past Katie was a challenge, and proven extremely difficult.

You let out a struggled breath, angered at the lack of options your teammates offered due to their attacking absence. The ball beneath your feet went back and forth between the women in front of you. The two of you were complete mirrors of each other, both trying to nutmeg the other or humiliate them in some way. It was as if minutes had gone past when everyone was watching the two of you battle it out. It wasn't until Jessie came up behind the two of you, threading the ball out from beneath McCabe’s feet and dribbling it away that it seemed to have stopped.

You blanked when you saw Katie stretch her leg out, tripping Jessie onto the floor; leaving her limb on the grass.

“You’re such a cheat!” You exclaimed, pushing Katie with your hands. “You’re a fucking cheat, McCabe, and you know it!”

Katie surged towards you, her breath thick against your face. Your shirt was taken into her hand. She was so much taller than you. “Imagine needing your girlfriend to win your battles for you.” She spoke, her tone condescending. “The score says it all, Miss Australia. If only you weren't so distracted by me, you’d realise.”

She was looking down at you now, holding your shirt so tightly you knew that if you moved, she’d pull you right back in. Her accent was coarser than usual, sending you into a frenzy of disarray and warmth. She was towering over you, her build similar yet broader. Her smirk was minuscule, but prominent all the same. You knew you had lost the game, but you weren't going to lose this fight.

“And where’s your girlfriend, McCabe? Is she somewhere in the stands?”

You were pulled apart but Kim and Sam, the referee tramping over at the sight of the pair of you bundled up. The presence of the yellow card was something you expected, but not rewarding whatsoever.

“Get off my player, McCabe,” Sam ordered, holding a protective arm over your shoulder. Somehow, you knew what she was thinking, peeling your Captain’s arm away from you and marching off. In the distance, you could hear Katie speaking. “She's a big girl, Kerr. I promise it's never on purpose.”

Of course, she was mocking you, you thought. Of course, she saw the video.

You were replaced by Guro not long after that. The Chelsea cheers did not seep through your irritated exterior. Your head was pounding from the fall you had at the start of the game, and you winced at the tinge in your ankle as you ran off to hug Guro.

Emma Hayes strolled up to you, placing a stern hand on your shoulder. “I want you to cool off before you come back and sit down. You're going to shake each of those girls’ hands before you go home tonight.”

Without a second thought,, you stomped down the tunnel, making a point to let your metal studs echo all the way to the changerooms. At twenty-two years old, you had the most yellows in the WSL for your age. If the stats were compared, people would argue that you were higher than most of the older girls.

It was nothing you were proud of, despite the effortless compliments you gained for being potent in your determination to win. But you had been told by almost every coach that you could be too aggressive.

You kicked off your boots, peeling off your shin pads and socks to reveal the nasty bruise that was already blossoming on your ankle. Removing your clothes, you engulfed the hot spurs of water that left the shower head in Emirates Stadium. There was still half an hour of the game left when you were subbed off, so you made sure to take your time washing yourself from head to toe, soaking in the warmth that relaxed the tension in your muscles.

You replaced your game kit with some Matilda's trackies and a fitted tee. Combing your hair into a pony, washing your face with freezing cold water, you waited for your team to arrive from the game, feeling defeated and unprepared for the beating they were about to receive from Emma.

The changing rooms blocked out most of the noise from the game above, except from the thundering rumble of Alessia Russo chants that boomed after five minutes of waiting. You knew that had scored just by the sinking of your gut. The jetlag and fatigue were starting to hit you now, and you had half a mind to just pack up and go home. But you remembered Emma’s words to you before you stormed into the changing rooms. You knew she’d have your neck at training for the next three months if you didn't do as you were asked.

So you stood up, slotting your phone into your pocket, making your way back through the tunnel. The volume of the crowd was starting to get louder, and with each step you took, the less you felt inclined to follow through with the orders you were given.

You were about to turn the corner that led to the field when you were pushed back against the wall, your arms pinned above your head, your body caged in by someone tall and firm.

“Are your cheeks always so red, Y/l/n? Cause every time I see you, you look like you're on fire.”

“Piss off, McCabe.”

Katie was towering over you, unpinning your hands from their place above your head, leaning down so that you could see every detail of her face.

“You're free to go.”

“You're a right pain in the arse.”

She was laughing at you now. “Am I bothering you, Miss Australia?”

“Stop calling me that!” You knew your cheeks were flaming now but you couldn't help it.

Katie grabbed your face with her hand harshly, pulling you closer so that you were forced to look her straight in the eyes. “No, you don't like that?” Her hips met yours, and you squirmed. “What about Baby, eh? Everyone seems to call you Baby. You act like one so I guess it suits.”

“Katie—”

“Oh, so you're calling me Katie now, are ‘ya? I call you Baby and you call me Katie, is that what's happening?”

“No.”

Katie scoffed, placing her knee in between your thighs, keeping you planted between her. You had nowhere to put your hands, so you decided behind your back was appropriate. You felt the subtle movements of her knee in between your legs, her eyes watching for your reaction intently.

“No?”

You watched her head move down to your ear, her breath fanning across your neck. Her lips gradually grew closer to your pulse point, where goosebumps poured over your skin. When the warm sensation of her lips met your neck, your body subconsciously relaxed on her knee, making you jolt at the sudden friction applied to your core.

“Yes.” You ushered, pulling your hands out awkwardly as your neck reclined against the wall, your face etched to the ceiling. You were so, so stupid. What were you thinking?

“Yes… what?” You heard her say, her tongue swirling across the harsh mark she just made below your ear. You hesitantly fell back down on her knee, holding in the groan that yearned to leave your lips. This time, as you tried to regain the dispersing shards of your dignity, lifting your heat off her knee, her hands moved to seize your waist, pushing your hips down to roll against her knee.

The motion made you whine. “Yes, Katie.”

The woman chuckled as she coerced your hips back and forth, sucking and licking down your neck and across your collarbone. Feeling a slight ache from the game she just played, the sensation of the majority of your body weight rubbing against her knee made the Arsenal Victory even more triumphant.

“Is this okay, Baby?” She asked, leaving your neck cold as she waited for your response. You were so tired from the past few days that you slumped on Katie’s knee, waiting for her to continue kissing and moving you as she pleased.

“I need to shake people’s hands.” Your voice was meek but clear.

Katie looked at you, taken aback. “What?”

You wrapped your arms off her shoulders, holding them together in front of you. “Emma told me I need to shake everyone’s hands after the game is finished. She’ll be really angry if I don't.”

Katie’s smirk was back. “Will she now?”

You, too exhausted to realise she was egging you on, nodded. “Yes. So I have to—”

“Shake my hand?”

“Yes.”

Katie leaned in, raising her eyebrows. “What if I don't want to shake your hand?”

You were evidently stumped at the question, pursing your lips as you struggled to find a response. Katie's smile grew, and you grew bitter.

She moved to kiss your neck again to silence your upcoming retort. “What will Hayes do if you don't shake my hand, hm? She’d be so disappointed in you, wouldn't she?”

You tried to focus on anything but her lips led closer to your breasts. “McCabe, I need to—”

“What are you going to tell her, hm? When she asks you if you shook my hand, are you ‘gonna tell her that you tried to get off on my leg instead?”

You were at loss for words. Was she wrong? Of course, she wasn't. Katie McCabe was never fucking wrong, and here you were, pathetic on her knee, about to get off to your enemy calling you Baby, when you tell her you need to shake her hand. You really were a baby.

“Is that what you're going to say to her, Baby?”

“N-no.”

“Why not? It's the truth. You wouldn't want to lie, would you?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I'm not going to tell her that.”

She must've caught onto your honest dispute, slowly dragging her knee directly onto your clit and rubbing circles over it. You didn't expect her movements, so you moaned, pulling your head into her neck and breathing heavily.

You were so out of breath it wasn't funny. “I’m- I told Jessie I’d spend a night at her house.”

“I didn't take you for the cheating type, Y/l/n.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

Katie slowed down her movements. “I ‘spose you weren't thinking you’d get off with her knee tonight, would you?”

“No, we were just going to watch a movie.”

“How ‘bout this?” She whispered, pushing your hips against the wall. “You go and shake everyone’s hands like a good girl and I’ll treat you like one afterwards.”

You groaned when she pulled her knee out from under you, feeling your inner dread grow when you heard the full-time whistle and a tsunami of cheers.

“We won 4-1.”

“Still second on the ladder.”

“You have bite for someone who was just moaning fully clothed.”

“Goodbye, McCabe.” You snapped, trying to act Almighty and unbothered by the longing in between your legs. You had to double-check that nothing had leaked through from how wet you were, trudging up the tunnel without a second glance back.

When you found yourself on the pitch, you made a point to shake each of the Arsenal player's hands, including the ones on the bench, which had been nothing short of mortifying. Almost all of them looked at you strangely, trying to push past the obvious awkwardness and reciprocate the sportsmanship, except for the Aussie girls, who hugged you and offered warm conversation with the buzz of their victory.

“Is your ankle okay?” Caitlin asked, pulling you out of an embrace with worry smeared across her features.

You nodded, showing her the bruise by moving your sock. “Yeah, just some bruising. You guys played really well.”

Steph did the same: hug and condolences, while Kyra was completely opposite.

“LONDON IS RED!” She screamed, laughing when she mounted your back from behind.

“Get off, loser.” You retorted, pulling her into a hug as the two of you met in the middle of the field. You knew heaps of people were waiting for signatures, but you didn't care.

“What’s all over your neck?” She asked, grabbing your jaw and observing the fresh marks.

Shit, you thought, recalling the sensation of Katie’s lips tugging at your skin.

You pulled away, hoping distance would lessen the stringency of them. “I think it was from the grass. Y’know, when I fell.”

“Oh, don't worry, I know.” Kyra giggled, seemingly too full of energy to remember what she said two seconds ago. “You need to take a chill pill, Y/n/n. I’ll be sending you all the TikTok edits of you and Katie when I get home, don't you worry.”

“Please don't.” You muttered, holding out your hand to interlock it with Kyra’s. “Are you going straight home or?”

Kyra chuckled. “After this win? No fucking way.”

“You're still second on the ladder.” You reminded yet another Arsenal player.

Kyra poked her tongue out. “Boo, you whore.”

Kyra left you to celebrate with her teammates, marking her as the last Arsenal girl you needed to shake hands with.

You walked back into the changing rooms with an impassive frown on your face. Lots of the girls were already in the showers, Jessie among the few that had already finished and changed.

“We still up for tonight?” You asked, hoping your prior plans that you made before the game were still available after the thrashing they had just endured.

Jessie nodded, pulling you into a hug. “Sam, Millie, and Erin are all going to the pub to have a drink. They want us to come with them, you in?”

“Why not?” You replied, kissing the girl’s forehead before packing your bag.

You were glad that you were going out with your teammates instead of caving and finding Katie. But something deep down made you ponder whether what just happened was a one-off thing.

Spoiler: it wasn't.

[wlntrsldler]

i’m kinda feeling a jealous!luke rn…… how do we feel about luke going to cheer for fuve star in one of her matches but afterwards when he’s going to congratulate her, he finds some dude trying to flirt with her. and she’s clearly not interested but luke doesn’t miss the chance to greet her with a kiss and then look at the guy with the most annoyed, dismissive expression ever. then luke smiles. “sorry, was i interrupting?”

a/n: i know nothing about field hockey! beware!

"mr. d, i don't know how you do this," luke muttered, eyes darting between you and clarisse on the field. the score was 1-1 and it was end of 2OT. both teams were gearing up for a shootout for the national title. "i've never been this nervous in my life."

mr. d chuckled from beside him, placing a comforting hand on luke's upper back, "trust me, it doesn't get any easier."

"i think i'm gonna throw up," chris mumbled from beside luke, anxiously waiting for the referee to indicate that the shootout was starting. clarisse was third on the line-up.

"you and me both, brother," luke replied, chewing on his bottom lip. he tugged on his shirt, suddenly feeling confined in the fabric. you were so close to the championship. this was the final game and if you won, you'd be a back-to-back national champion.

luke knew how hard you worked to get here. he often got voice memos from you, ranting about how practice and training wore you out, but he knew you got up bright and early the next day to do it again. you fell asleep on facetime calls often, sometimes only lasting ten minutes before you fell asleep on the call.

"it's starting," chris said, getting up from his seat. "i don't know if i want to watch or look away."

northwestern was up first. goal.

"fuck," travis groaned, echoing the sentiment of fellow unc supporters in the stands.

connor and travis were sitting behind him, both equally nervous to see how the game would unfold. you and clarisse had bought them unc merch to wear to the game, but luke and chris wanted to surprise you and clarisse with diy shirts that said "number [your jersey number/ clarisse's jersey number] biggest fan." you and clarisse both laughed when you saw their shirts. you loved them.

by the time it was clarisse's turn, the score was 1-0 (shootout) with unc trailing behind.

"come on, clar," chris hollered, clapping his hands, "you got this!"

clarisse masterfully maneuvered around northwestern's goalie and sunk the ball into the net. the boys and mr. d screamed in celebration as the score changed to reflect the goal. 1-1. unc was still in it.

clarisse pointed to the stands, eyes finding chris' in the crowd and blew him a kiss. chris beamed as he saw himself on the big screen. he pointed to his shirt, mouthing, "that's my girl!"

"i love how two days ago you guys had no clue how field hockey worked and now look at you," silena teased, adjusting the unc cap on her head.

"we still don't know what's going on, to be honest," luke replied sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck, "but this is the big game!"

"i get it," she said, nudging charlie, "i still don't understand football but i'm at my wits end every time i watch him play."

charlie chuckled, wrapping an arm around silena's waist, before cheering with the rest of the crowd when you stepped up for the shootout.

you were the last one to go and even that alone is a lot of pressure, but you were the tiebreaker for this shootout. the score was still 1-1. nobody has scored since clarisse, both goalies were brick walls and luke's heart was hammering in his chest.

"come on, five star," he whispered, biting his knuckles, "light work baby."

you took a deep breath and dribbled the ball. you were electric out there. you were strategic and quick on your toes. luke was mesmerized watching you play. he'd seen your tapes before, in preparation for this game just so he wasn't completely clueless walking into the championship game, but watching it in real time was something else.

you swerved around the goalie and hit the ball. luke held his breath. goal.

"let's fucking go!" you screamed, falling to your knees on the field as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

the screams from the unc fans were defeaning. luke was grinning from ear to ear as the boys cheered around him. chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shaking him relentlessly. luke couldn't contain his excitement, but he knew that he should let you have this moment with your team. he'll celebrate with you in a bit, for now, you needed to soak in this feeling. back-to-back national champion.

as the adrenaline from the win began to subside, luke and chris, with the help of mr. d, made their way to the field. chris wandered off to find clarisse and luke was standing on the sidelines as mr. d talked to your coach. he watched as you did your post-game interview. you were glowing and it took all his willpower to not run up to you and kiss you on national television.

when you shook the reporter's hand in goodbye, luke began walking over to you, only to stop in his tracks when a boy approached you. luke blinked, tilting his head as he watched the situation unfold.

the guy was... okay-looking. he was definitely an athlete too, based on his build and height. luke's assumptions were proven correct when he got close enough to see his unc basketball hoodie. the boy's eyes fucking twinkled while he spoke to you, a charming smile adorning his face that luke wanted to punch off his prince charming facade.

he watched as you took a step back from the boy, awkwardly gesturing somewhere in the stands. luke felt smug hearing you say, "well, i have a boyfriend and he's over there actually so i should go find him."

but the guy was not letting up. luke watched as the guy rolled his eyes, obviously unphased by your revelation. luke clenched his jaw, keeping his composure.

luke marched over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to turn you around. he roughly connected his lips with yours, smirking inside when you moaned at the contact. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper. his hands traveled up your spine, pushing you flush against his body. when the two of you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, a giddy smile on your face as you breathed out, "hell of a congratulations, castellan."

luke laughed, placing a quick kiss to your lips before turning to address the boy, "sorry, was i interrupting something?"

you had to cover your mouth to muffle the snort that came out of you. luke was staring at the boy intensely, lips in a tight line, as his hand squeezed the skin of your hip in possessiveness. the boy faltered, taking a step back in defeat. luke continued to shoot daggers at him, not deterred by the threat, or lack thereof, in front of him. eventually, the boy got the hint and walked away, shaking his head.

luke's cocky smirk was unstoppable as he faced you again, "great job, baby. national champ, again! look at you."

"thank you," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. luke welcomed your public display of affection. "are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

he rolled his eyes, playfully, "nah, not worth it."

"yeah, but it was hot."

"then yes, let's talk about how hot you think i am."

"shut up," you replied, kissing him again. if this was your way of shutting him up, he wasn't going to complain.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Rival III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Not many people are happy at the next Arsenal game

Neither of your parents are smiling as you stroll into the Chelsea locker room.

Usually, you're very happy to wear your 'assistant coach' jersey but it had been a battle this morning that Momma and Morsa had ultimately lost.

You don't own an Arsenal jersey but you've managed to find a t-shirt of the same red shade so you're happy to wear that instead. To rub salt in the wound, you had cried and cried and cried until your mothers had also worn red t-shirts into the locker room - although they've hidden those under their jackets.

"Whoa!" Sam says in shock, gesturing fiercely at your top," What's all this?"

"Don't," Morsa says wearily," You'll set her off again."

"She's been crying all morning," Momma says," I know when to pick my battles." She gestures to you. "But, Sam, by all means, have a shot at it."

Sam comes and kneels in front of you. She pulls on the bottom of your top.

"It's Arsenal colour," You tell her proudly.

"I see that, y/n," She says," But wouldn't you prefer Chelsea colours? You'll be sitting on the Chelsea bench."

You shake your head. "I like Arsenal," You declare and the whole locker room goes quiet," They're the best. Not Wolfsburg best but best here."

The locker room erupts into outraged voices.

"What are you teaching her, Magda?!"

"How could you, kid?!"

"You let them corrupt her?!"

"Pernille, you can't let this happen!"

"y/n, don't say such slander!"

There's lots of screaming and arguing but you're not too phased. The Not-Wolfsburg locker room is pretty boring most of them so this is a bit entertaining but gets old quickly. You glance towards the door. You know the way to the Arsenal locker room. Maybe Daan will have another juicebox for you and Katie can talk to you in her silly accent.

You nod to yourself.

You should visit them.

As the adults argue, you wander towards the door, hand on the handle to open it when you're stopped. You follow the big arm to meet Millie's face.

"Sorry, kid," She says," No wandering off this time."

You stamp your foot and scrunch up your face. "Why? Just want to see Arsenal."

Millie scoffs. "I know you think you like Arsenal," She says," But you need to stay here." She ruffles your hair. "Chelsea's in your blood."

You stick your tongue out. "I have Wolfsburg blood," You say," And I do like Arsenal. I do! I do! I do!" You're insisting so much that Millie looks horrified when you burst into tears.

Momma breaks through the crowd to pick you up, bouncing you up and down. You wipe your sniffly nose on her Arsenal-colour t-shirt and continue to cry.

Magda pats Millie on the shoulder consolingly, her fellow defender looking completely heartbroken to have made you cry. "Welcome to my world," She says," No one can say a bad word against Wolfsburg or Arsenal in our house." She gestures to her own and Pernille's shirts. "She nearly made herself sick crying so much because we didn't want to wear the tops she chose for us." She pats Millie on the shoulder one last time. "Pick your battles."

No one is able to talk you out of your fashion choice and Emma looks betrayed as you take your place on the Not-Wolfsburg bench.

You wave excitedly as the teams come out, completely ignoring your mothers in favour of the Arsenal girls. Leah grins at you and Katie gives you a silly two finger salute. Beth and Daan wave at you, as does Jill.

You wave back happily, bouncing and you think you can see the other Not-Wolfsburg girls sink back into the bench in embarrassment.

Kick-off starts and you remain excited. Normally, at Not-Wolfsburg games you get bored but you're completely engaged in this one - barely stopping to get a drink.

But, just before half-time, you retreat back to your seat. Jessie and Niamh are both there, letting you squish between them and leech their warmth.

Jessie holds your drink up and you take a generous gulp, wiping your mouth clumsily with the back of your hand. Niamh clears her throat and pulls out a you-sized Not-Wolfsburg jersey.

"Are you sure you don't want to wear this?" She asks, waving it teasingly in your face.

You push it away and tug on your own shirt. "Is Arsenal colour," You explain it to her like she's slow," That's Not-Wolfsburg colour." You smooth down your shirt. "I like Arsenal!" You spy from across the pitch, Beth scoring a goal and you throw your arms up. "Arsenal! Yay!"

The Not-Wolfsburg bench slouches lower in their seats.

●～●～●～●～

The match ends with an embarrassing draw for Not-Wolfsburg and has even more embarrassing moments when you celebrate every goal Arsenal gets.

You zoom onto the pitch, completely ignoring your mothers to race across the see Daan and Beth.

Beth catches you underneath the arms and swings you onto her hip. Daan takes one of your hands, waving it around as you're carted away to the little group of Arsenal girls shaking hands with your mothers.

"Kid!" Katie says in her silly accent (Momma told you it was Irish but you think she keeps making up words) and plucks you from Beth's arms. She shakes you around and you giggle.

She places you on the ground and you're so dizzy that you stumble around, knocking into Leah's legs, who laughs delightedly at you.

"Leah!"

"My biggest fan!" She high-fives you. "You're looking good in Arsenal red!"

Momma and Morsa both groan which makes Jill laugh.

You nod excitedly. "Uh-huh! Arsenal's so cool!"

Pernille has to wrap a consoling arm around Magda as Leah crouches down in front of you.

"Well, since your mums are Chelsea fans, they'll probably never buy you a proper jersey so, here, take mine." She strips it from her body, pulling it over your head.

It's very sweaty and kind of smelly but you love it.

You hug her tightly. "Thank you, Leah!"

Pernille sees Magda's eye twitch in outrage.

[goldenwilliamson]

would you maybe be able to write a fic for leah where the reader is a famous singer and goes to an arsenal or england game and then gets to meet the team after and leah is secretly a huge fan trying to play it cool (kind of like becks/posh)???

fan behaviour | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: love this ask, feel like i miiight have read something similar to this but can't remember who wrote it, so apologies for conceptual similarities if there is any. also i reference reader wearing leah's no. 8 england jersey even though leah has worn many different numbers for england lol.

summary: reader is a famous singer who goes to an england game and goes back to meet the girls after, not knowing leah williamson thinks she is the fittest woman to walk the earth. leah's fellow lionesses taking the piss out of her a bit for her crush. reader finding it endlessly endearing, as you would.

word count: 2.1k

When you had asked your manager if she could organise getting you tickets to see the Lionesses play, you hadn't expected that your love for the women's team would be reciprocated in any way. So you were pleasantly surprised when your manager informed you that the team wanted to meet you after the game, and agreed immediately.

You had briefly met a few of the players already at a GQ event last year, and on that occasion you had found yourself completely infatuated with the captain Leah Williamson. You had watched on in the Euros as she lead the team out with such confidence and from there you had definitely developed a small crush on the footballer. You had even sourced yourself a number 8 Williamson jersey to wear to the final at Wembley.

After the historic final you shared a photo of yourself and your family donned proudly in your England jerseys to your instagram that night with the caption 'claiming the title of the @lionesses biggest fan. the girls brought it home ⚽️🔥❤️'. Little did you know that when Leah saw your post, she had made sure everyone on the team had seen that you were wearing her jersey. She couldn't believe her eyes, or that a musician of your status was posting about the Lionesses. In a simple display of mutual affection, Leah liked the post and left a comment saying 'The feeling is mutual, thanks for the love x'.

It wasn't until later in the year that the two of you had finally met at the GQ Men of the Year event after the Euros. You had seen her across the room and made a shamless beeline for her. Though no introductions were necessary, you both introduced yourselves, and right off the bat Leah mentioned the fact that you had posted a photo of yourself in her jersey. You tried your best to play it cool, but you certainly were blushing, which Leah only found more endearing.

"I've got to back the captain haven't I?" You'd told her.

"I'm not complaining, it looked better on you than it does on me," she responded flirtatiously with practised ease.

"You're making me blush now," you pat your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your face.

"Surely you get people complimenting you in every room you walk into," Leah said matter of factly, only flattering you further.

"Leah Williamson, stop inflating my ego!" You laughed, "You live a far more respectable life than I do, and you manage to look this bloody good while doing it," you motion up and down her body with your hands to her outfit, completely blown away by her ability to look so damn good in and out of kit.

"Well I'll take the compliment, but I'll have you know I have a great respect for you and your music," she says sincerely.

"Thank you, I guess it's my turn to take the compliment too," you tell her, and sadly your conversation is cut short by an announcement that the award ceremony is about to commence and that everyone must move to their seats. The rest of the night your mind was occupied with thoughts of the English captain, especially since she was honoured with multiple speeches of people singing her praises.

And while you couldn't have known it, Leah's mind was filled with you. After that night she had strictly listened to your music on repeat for weeks, much to the annoyance of her teammates who demanded something else be played since it was Leah who had the role of team DJ.

A few months later when you decided to secure tickets to the Arnold Clark Cup game in Milton Keynes, you had secretly hoped you might get another encounter with Leah, and your manager had confirmed this at the start of the night.

When the girls were in the change room before hand, news began to travel that you were in the crowd, but it hadn't reached Leah until she queued up one of your songs in the pre-game playlist and realisation dawned on Ella Toone's face.

"Can you believe Y/N Y/L/N is here? Apparently she's going to come say hello after the game," Ella said.

"Is she really?" Leah said, her voice coming out squeaky, the excitement evident.

"Oh good Lee, maybe you can just ask her out like a normal human instead of listening to her like an obsessive fan," Georgia Stanway said loud enough for every one to hear, making the team laugh.

"Give it a rest," Leah shook her head, but she smiled, knowing Georgia had a point.

Leah knew she had spent way too much time thinking about you for only having met you that one time, but she couldn't help it. She definitely felt there was a little chemistry in your brief conversation at the GQ event. She tried not to let herself believe that but, after all, you were one of the most famous artists in the world, and she was just a footballer. She wasn't even sure that you dated women. Either way, the idea that you were in the crowd made her want to put in a good performance.

From your posh seats, which you felt extremely lucky to be in, you were enthralled in the game, cheering as loud as anyone when the girls scored their 4 goals against South Korea. You'd even come wearing a Williamson Jersey under your coat, and throughout the game your eye was consistently drawn to the blonde defender who charmed you those months ago.

When the game ended one of the many people working behind the scenes for the Lionesses came to find you at your seat to escort you and your manager through the back of the stadium down to where the team was.

You could hear the sound of Murder On The Dancefloor playing loudly as you followed your escort towards the change room where the team was clearly celebrating their win. The girls were mostly too busy dancing and shouting along with the song to notice your entrance, which made you smile. You didn't want to disrupt their celebrations by any means, but the woman who brought you down had cleared her throat to get the girls attention.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I've got someone special here who has kindly come to say hello!" She announces to the room and instantly the heads turn your way.

You flash a smile and wave as the music gets turned down, "Sorry to show up in the middle of such a good song," you apologise.

"Are you kidding me? The music can wait, you're Y/N bloody Y/L/N," Ella said, making you laugh.

"And you're Ella bloody Toone, it's so good to meet you. I'm a huge fan of you all," You said, expressing your love for the entire team, looking around the room. Even though you've brushed shoulders with more celebrities than you can count, staring into a room of footballers you admire felt extremely surreal.

"We're fans of yours, especially Leah," Georgia says, gesturing across the room with her thumb towards Leah who you were only managing to see now.

She stood resting against the wall with her arms crossed, shaking her head, "Thanks for that G."

You decide it's getting a bit awkward with everyone staring at you, as if you're about to give a half time pep talk so you try to diffuse the situation a little.

"Well I'd love to get around and have a chat with all of you, but please put your music on and do your thing, I feel silly standing up here in front of you all," you say, smiling.

"You heard her girls, stop staring, play the music Leah," Millie Bright said instructively and you watched as Leah picked her phone up and pressed play on the music.

Instantly many went back to singing along to the Sophie Ellis-Bextor classic, and you made your way over towards Georgia Stanway giving her a hug hello, and sitting down with her for a chat.

"That penalty was unreal," you told Georgia, referring to the goal she scored in the game. You spoke with her easily, feeling like you were catching up with a friend.

You continued to move your way around the room, chatting with some of the girls individually and with some in smaller groups. While they all had compliments for you and questions to ask, you met them with the exact same energy. The room quickly filled up with more people who work for the team and friends and family which made you feel less like you were a lucky fan who had orchestrated a private meet and greet with the team.

The whole time you were in the room you were looking for Leah out of the corner of your eye, wanting to save her for a bit later so you could get some more time to talk with her. Once you'd basically made your rounds of the room chatting to the players and their family members you finally made your way over to Leah.

"Saving the best for last?" Leah smirks at you as you approach.

"Well I'm not one to pick favourites, but I did wear my Williamson jersey tonight," you say, pushing open your coat to show off the white England jersey tucked loosely into your pants.

"I can't get over you wearing my shirt," Leah said, her pearly white teeth on full display, which you reflected with your own face.

"Is it surreal for you? Since I hear you're such a big fan of mine and all," you say, reference Georgia's little quip from earlier which didn't fly under your radar.

"Oh, she's got banter," Leah says, an eyebrow raised.

"She tries," you shrug your shoulders.

"Well if you must know, yes I'm a fan. I may even have been told off for playing too much of your music around the girls," she admits, "But you've got my name on your back so I'd say the feeling is mutual."

"Oh, it's definitely mutual, if anything I'm underplaying how big of a fan I am," you say, your honesty laced with sarcasm.

Leah smiles, "Well if we're being honest I'm really glad you came today, I was disappointed we didn't get to chat more back at that GQ event," Leah says earnestly.

"So was I! I actually tried to find you later that night but had no luck," you said.

"Oh, you did? I was probably just sitting with Alex Scott chatting her ear off about how fit you are," Leah says, her forwardness catching you off guard just slightly.

"Well just as well I came here today then," you said, dropping your voice slightly and leaning in closer to her ear, "Because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night."

"Well what do you say we get together for coffee soon and we can gush over each other some more?" Leah offers and you light up at the idea.

"I'd say that's a great idea," you nod, laughing, "Here let me give you my number," you motion towards the phone in her hand and she unlocks it, handing it over to you. You open her contacts and create a new one for you.

"Alright, all done," you hand her phone back to her, feeling your heart beating in your chest.

"Perfect, well, Y/N, it was a pleasure to see you again," Leah says, opening her arms for a hug, which you slip into gladly.

"Yes, always a pleasure. Make sure you text me later, don't leave me hanging," you say in your embrace, knowing that you're close enough to Leah that the other girls might not hear.

"I wouldn't dare," Leah promises.

"Alright, good," you smile as you step away.

Now that your conversation has come to an end Leah turns back to the rest of the girls, most of whom are watching your and Leah's interaction very closely.

"Alright girls, Y/N is heading off now, say your goodbyes," Leah says, using what you think must be her captain voice, sounding very assertive.

"Bye guys, it's been so good to meet you all," you tell everyone as they all say goodbye and thank you for coming. You embrace almost everyone in a hug as you slowly making your way back around to the door where your manager waits for you.

You give one last wave goodbye, and have one last look at Leah who is watching every move of yours with a small smile on her face. She waves at you as you look at her and with that you turn and leave the room.

As you walk through the stadium to the back entrance where a car is waiting for you, your manager asks how you're feeling after meeting all the girls.

You giggle like you're a teenager again as you tell her, "I think I have a date with Leah Williamson."

[sc0tters]

His Girl | Nico Hischier

summary: it’s your one year anniversary when you and Nico are all nervous but for totally different reasons.

song: Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

request: yes/no

warnings: allusions to drinking.

word count: 1.64k

authors note: fluff is officially not my strong suit but I’ve really enjoyed writing these marriage repeated pieces for the celly! This literally aged like wine as I wrote it, started off shit but by the end we got somewhere good.

It was the only time you were grateful to be dragged to a club.

It was a warm summer night in London as your friends had gone for a girls trip. So of course they were all making the most of it.

Somehow on the fourth night your friends hadn’t gotten tired of the partying that they endured every evening as they went out clubbing. You seemed to miss that memo so you were brought along despite the complaints that left your lips. Those all quickly went silent when you locked eyes with him.

Nico much like yourself had been brought along and was now sat at the table as he nursed his drink.

That might neither one of you seemed to leave the others side. You didn’t know who he was until you went to the bar and overheard some fellow American tourists that the Swiss man you had grown so comfortable talking to wasn’t just Nico, he was Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. Now you weren’t a hockey fan despite being from New York, but with your knowledge of both baseball and football you could only assume that it was a hockey team because New Jersey simply didn’t sound like a state that was going to produce a basketball team.

Nico had given you his number before your friends were ready to finally head back to your hotel. That night you turned google into your best friend in an attempt to learn more about the man who was clearly the man of your dreams.

Yes it sounded over reactive but it was the truth. Nico was someone who you truly just gelled with, the conversation rolled on for hours but it only seemed like it was minutes.

Throughout all of your life, you had never met someone who made you smile so much that your cheeks hurt, laughed so much that you didn’t think you could breathe anymore.

Arriving back in New York the pull the hockey player had in your mind hadn’t let up, whilst there were the worries that the number Nico had given you was fake your friends had quickly cleared your mind because “he looked at you like you were the only girl in that bar.”

Nico had gone back to Switzerland as he still had another month before he needed to be in New Jersey. The time difference was what he blamed your lack of communication on, you were going home two days after the night in that bar.

Although he knew it was stupid that didn’t stop him from checking his phone every time he heard a notification come in. That was why when your message finally came in the Devils captain almost fell over his own two feet.

you: hey stranger! next time you’re in New York let me know and I’ll give you the local tour 😉

And that was happened, Nico flew into JFK and found himself stood at your door with a smile on his face and your favourite flowers in hand.

Three months later when he was back but this time for hockey. Or at least that’s what he told himself because when you showed up at the Islanders game in his Jersey.

You pulled Nico into your arms as you congratulated him “you see that goal I scored for you?” He asked as he sent you a grin.

It was a clear shot done in a power play and all Nico could do was skate to the board where you were as he pointed at you.

Twitter was having a field day trying to figure out who you were and what you were to Nico “of course baby,” you nodded as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

You continued to toe the line or flirtation because no matter how much you wanted him, the fear of rejection was like a mental block that you couldn’t get past.

But when Nico hooked his fingers under your chin it caused your knees to almost give out “let me come back to yours?” That phrase had your mind combusting as you felt like you had just exploded into sparkles and confetti.

That night he asked you out.

The first year of your relationship was just as good as you had predicted. You had been given the name of team mom as the younger boys of the team would call Nico late at night just to ask you questions. They ranged with everything from girl advice to how you iron a shirt.

You ironed Jacks shirt for him and that also added to your title, you also had to take him dress shoe shopping but that was something you had been sworn to secrecy about.

It made Nico laugh how most times after games you seemed more proud of the other boys just playing because “their milestones mattered too.”

When the team made the playoffs for a second year in a row was when Nico told you he loved you. It was at the celebratory party when you walked outside for air “schatzi you okay?” Nico called out as he quickly found you where you were.

A smile formed on your lips “I’m perfect,” you spoke softly as your drunk boyfriend placed his hand on your waist.

His dopey grin made you laugh “I love you,” he confessed as he let your body rest against the wall behind you.

You let your fingers massage the nape of his neck “tell me that in the morning,” you reminded him as the liquor in his system was clear “no, no I love you baby.” The hockey player repeated his confession in his efforts to show that he was serious “I love you too,” a giggle left your lips as you kissed him.

A couple of months later and your one year anniversary had finally come around and you were stressed out.

Jack had been enlisted to keep you away from the apartment as Nico had a surprise that he was working.

It made you breathe out a sigh of relief though as you truly had no clue what to get Nico, even on the day of your anniversary you still didn’t know.

If Nico were to go into your closet and look behind your coats he’d find the six gifts you got, not because you wanted to go over board but because you really didn’t have a clue what you get the man who is literally the captain of a hockey team for their anniversary?

Sure Nico was romantic, bring home flowers when you had bad days at work, leaving sticky notes of little messages whenever he went on road trips longer than a week.

There would have been some comfort to you if Jack actually let you know how Nico felt as he ran around New Jersey.

In the last minute he decided that his design of your apartment wasn’t up to a standard that you’d enjoy and that’s what brought him to IKEA as he went to find fairy lights.

When Jack got the green light to bring you back you almost jumped out of the car when it was still moving “don’t me an uncle just yet!” Jack called out as he winded down the passenger window.

You turned around as grinned “no promises!” You shot back as you sent him a salute before you practically ran into the apartment building.

If you weren’t on the penthouse level you would have ran up the stairs, but instead you waited for the elevator.

The walk that was more like a speed walk to your apartment had your palms growing sweaty. You let the door open and your jaw practically dropped as you saw the way the dim fairy lights and candles that lit up your apartment “schatzi in the living room!” Nico called out as he took a last deep breath before he made sure he still had the box.

Tears welled in your eyes as you saw him down on one knee “when I first saw you in that pub I knew you were the woman of my dreams.” The guys that Nico went to England with didn’t let him live it down that his mind had been trapped in the view of you. Every time he zoned out they all knew what or who he was thinking about.

Nico’s speech continued even causing you to laugh at one point “I’ve even grown to not hate your hair in the shower drain.” You let out a snort as you sniffled “you know you miss it when you’re gone.” You shot back as he smiled letting you see a little nod.

The boy pecked your lips as he wiped your cheek stopping the tear from running down any further “you’re my person, my world, my everything.” He announced causing you to let out a little gasp as you placed your hand on your chest “so it only made sense to me that I asked you to marry me.”

You watched as he opened the ring box “I didn’t know what ring to get you,” he explained as he showed you the ring that had a diamond on it “if you don’t like it the jeweller said you could change-”

“Neeks,”

Nico felt like an idiot as his eyes went wide “oh my god you hate it don’t you?” He was quick to shut the box “let me get my keys-”

“Nico,”

The boy didn’t listen though “I’ll take you there and we can get you a new-”

“Nico!”

Your louder voice seemed to work on him “yes?” He cocked his head as he watched you cup his face with your hand.

A smile formed on your lips “could have proposed to me with a ring pop and I would have said yes,” you confessed as you let your thumb rub his face softly as it soothed him.

Nico nodded “so is that a yes?”

“The biggest one you’ll ever hear me say.”

[coalswriting]

clumsy confessions - lottie matthews

summary - in which a clumsy girl finally confesses her blooming feelings for lottie matthews (approx 1.8k words)

a/n - i'm really sick rn and i dont really like this at all, but i decided i gotta feed my fellow lottie fans!! hopefully my quality of writing will improve soon :(( love you all <3

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you never really liked soccer. you didn’t consider yourself the sporty type; more-so someone who liked to watch the sport and cheer from the sidelines. however, something made you join soccer. something great, something exciting, something beautiful – and that something was lottie matthews.

the first day you tried to approach lottie matthews, you tripped on a cone. it was a rainy day and the team had just finished practicing. everyone was drenched to the bone, and you were excited to shoot your shot. however, during your walk to lottie, your foot caught on the demonic neon orange thing, and you had tumbled over, falling flat on your back. you squinted as rain droplets fell into your eyes, blinding you gently. when you sat up, wiping mud off your uniform, you noticed lottie watching you. as she began to walk towards you, you scrambled up and stormed away, towards the locker room. what you didn’t see was the brunette’s gentle smile.

 this became a reoccurring theme. first it was the cone, then it was a puddle in the changing room, then it was someone’s bag, a shoe, and so on. the list was endless. eventually you did talk to lottie, and the two of you became close friends – not best friends, but you knew each other well enough to be able to hold up a long conversation, and gods, was she perfect. talking with lottie never lasted minutes – you were enthralled by her as she would ramble about some drama she had heard about, her poor french grade, her breakfast; anything.

you always had to tiptoe around her, since every time you tried to make anything relatively close to a move, you would trip, fall, or somehow embarrass yourself. unfortunately for you, this newfound friendship with lottie made you only fall (no pun intended) harder; and, with deeper feelings came a deeper heartbreak.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

it was nearing the end of the soccer season when you decided you would finally ask lottie out. with the help of shauna, jackie, and taissa, you had made the perfect fool-proof plan to talk to lottie without ruining your chances.

shauna and taissa had left practice a little earlier that day to rid the locker room of anything that could potentially get in the way of you and lottie; everyone’s shoes were neatly arranged under the benches, bags were shoved far into a corner that you rarely inhabited, and the floor was completely dry, eliminating any chance of slipping.

outside, jackie kept an eye out for any cones, any loose bags, jerseys, muddy puddles and kept the girls busy so that you could have your moment.

as practice ended, you began to walk towards lottie, deciding to have a short conversation before dropping the bomb. you nodded at jackie as she straightened herself up before announcing, “everyone please stay behind for a second! i have some criticism to give, (y/n) and lottie, you can go ahead.”

everyone emitted a loud groan as you skipped over to your beautiful friend who only smiled at you with the most gentle, heavenly grin ever.

“hey, (y/n), practice was tough today, wasn’t it?”

you nodded, walking alongside her across the field, “yeah, jackie just keeps pushing us harder and harder. i guess because the season is coming to an end… do you think you’ll be able to keep up with practice over the summer?”

“oh yeah, for sure!”, lottie quipped, “i go jogging every morning anyways, and then i’m sure jackie will organise something with coach martinez too.”

humming in response, the conversation quickly fell silent. normally, silence with lottie was never a problem. you felt comfortable with her, and she felt comfortable with you, so the two of you could often just enjoy each other’s company without needing to talk. however, today, the atmosphere felt heavier.

lottie looked ahead for a brief moment, but right before entering the locker room, she stopped you. “(y/n),” you looked up to meet her intense gaze, “is something wrong?”

taking a deep breath, you looked down at your hands, then back up at her, “um, well..”

you took a few steps towards the sink to wash your hands, “yeah, i wanted to ask you somethi-“

you were cut off by the sensation of something catching under your foot, and straight after, you went tumbling down, lurching towards the lockers. before you knew it, you felt your head slam against something hard and cold with a loud “THNK!”

you picked yourself up after a moment, clutching your head in pain. recollecting yourself, you looked down at your shoes to notice you had tripped on your own shoelace, launching yourself against a locker. lottie quickly bent down next to you, worry etched on her face. “are you okay, (y/n)?”, she gasped, helping you up, “please sit down so i can-”

“forget it, lottie!” you snapped, voice trembling. dizzily, you stood up and strutted out, clenching your jaw, as you bit back tears. you were done with trying anymore; you couldn’t help but embarrass yourself. bitterly, you decided that lottie would probably always see you as a klutz – you had to just get over her, because you knew that you would never recover from the embarrassment of what had just happened.

you bumped shoulders off jackie who was now walking into the locker room, eliciting a concerned look from her. her gaze followed you, lingering for a second, before returning towards lottie. “did (y/n) trip?”, is all she asked, lottie nodding her head in response. jackie sighed deeply. she didn’t want to out you nor your crush to her teammate, but at this point, she was too concerned for your wellbeing, and furthermore the wellbeing of the team.

“i know she likes me,” lottie said, simply, interrupting jackie’s train of thought, “i just want her to ask me – i’ve known since the day she first joined practice.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

avoiding lottie was eerily easy. you had simply stopped being near her all together since conversation would fall flat almost immediately. during practice, the two of you played on different teams, and lottie often stared at you longingly from the other side of your chemistry class. you began to feel awful, wondering whether she had figured out your feelings and was content with you avoiding her. it had been a week now, and lottie began to grow frustrated.

closing your chemistry textbook, you zipped your bag up, waving bye to van, your lab partner. you noticed lottie stare at you in the corner of your eye before she suddenly stood up, beelining towards you. “shitshitshit,” you mumbled nervously under your breath, speeding out of the lab.

she was on your pursuit, calling your name, only causing you to speed up, barrelling through the tsunami of oncoming students. however, before you knew it, someone grabbed you by the wrist and shoved you into a nearby janitors’ closet.

you could feel your heart in your throat as lottie leaned against the door of the poorly lit room, glaring at you. your palms grew sweaty, and you felt almost small as you waited for her to say something.

after what must’ve been a tense silence of twenty seconds, you decided to make a move towards escape.

“hey, uh, look, lottie, i have calculus now and-”

your foot slipped, catching off a bucket and you fell forwards, towards your teammate. your hands slammed on the door, her head in between. “shit, sorry…”, you murmured, your faces close together. lottie watched you intently, both of your cheeks reddening.

“(y/n),” she said, voice laced with an amorously velvet tone, “i know you want to tell me something.”

“uh.. i, uh…” your brain short circuited momentarily. being in this position with lottie was bad enough, but between the way she was staring at you, and the tone of voice she had used, you were expecting to pass out from how flustered and hot you were feeling.

“just do it,” she whispered, voice softer now.

you gulped, feeling a knot form in your stomach from the anxiety that had built up this past week.

“lottie, i really like you.”

lottie cracked a smile, her heart beginning to match the pace of your own, “i like you too, (y/n).”

you looked at her as she blinked innocently with doe eyes, shock on your face. “no, like, lottie. i really like you. like, i want us to go on dates and cuddle and kiss and shit.”

the room fell silent, and you swore, lottie could hear your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“are you willing to lose me if you pursue these feelings?”, she teased, watching your face scrunch up in hesitation.

“i… yes,” you replied simply, “i really want to spend the rest of my life with you, but as more than a friend.”

your muscles began to ache, being held in their strenuous position. however, you held up for a little longer, watching as thoughts whirred through lotties head, her eyes glinting in deep pondering. then, she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. her lips crashed on yours, inducing you to moan breathlessly.

the first thing you learned about lottie matthews that day was that she was a good kisser. she steered your body and lips with her own, gliding her hands across your spine with feathery touches, bringing out a shiver. her lips were soft and gentle against your own, as she engulfed you in a passionate heat, bringing a hand up to hold your jaw. the second thing you learned about lottie matthews that day is that she was a tease.

you gasped, breathlessly, as she pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip in the process. her eyes darkened as she smirked at you deviously. “lets talk about our feelings some more after practice today. my house?”

“uh…”, you whimpered, as she looked into your eyes deeply before placing a feathery peck on your lips.

“later, (y/n)”, her voice was laced with sticky honey, as she scrunched her nose teasingly, before slipping out of the closet. you stood there, lips flushed and face so hot, that you swore you were running a fever. then suddenly, you erupted into a joyous giggle and smile, recalling the way she had looked at you. you were desperate for more.

to say the least, practice that day was much more difficult than ever before. every time lottie exchanged an innocent smile with you, you remembered what had happened in the janitor’s closet, causing your legs to wobble, and a lovestruck smile to emerge onto your face. jackie had come up to you on multiple occasions, checking in on you.

“your face is so red, (y/n), are you alright? do you need to sit? do you want some water?”

you didn’t reply, simply catching lottie’s smirk from across the field.

the third thing you learned about lottie matthews that day is that she liked you back.

[seneon]

hcs for nagi, rin, sae, bachi, and chigiri + their reaction to you being a huge supporter of another fellow soccer player, who they may or may not like/get along with. i mean reader got jerseys, posters, probably an autograph somewhere idk

I AM THE ORIGINAL.

featuring. nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru and chigiri hyoma.

genre. crack / comedy, some jealousy, uh idk ngl.. | gn! reader.

notes. wsg ava ‼️ for plot armour, the other fellow soccer will be reo and kaiser LOLOLOLOL. those two are the most suitable imo. guys pls don't kill me i actually don't know what im writing

SEISHIRO NAGI — he doesn't really care.

nagi couldn't care less if you went insane over his best friend in terms of soccer and looks. i mean, it's literally his best friend so why would it bother him? you absolutely made it clear that you love him more than reo and he trusts in you 101% #trustingbf. ofc, there were times where he gets jealous and when he does, he threatens reo instead LMFOA.

RIN ITOSHI — his blood boils. a lot.

rin absolutely despises kaiser's ass. he literally hates every single interaction you've had with kaiser and tends to get very jealous whenever you brought your kaiser merch everywhere you go. he doesn't really show it but trust me, you can sense that his blood boils everytime. still, he tolerates you and your kaiser obsession just because it makes you happy 😞🫶🏻

SAE ITOSHI — he doesn't give a single shit.

sae knows he's way better than kaiser. in every aspect. plus, he has a mindset that you should be the luckiest girl alive to even be dating the itoshi sae... he'd be so egoistic about it. bro, sae probably don't even have time to care for your kaiser obsession.. maybe he'd get a bit protective or controlling about your fangirling but he'll just sigh it off as an average teenage girl interest.

MEGURU BACHIRA — he gets all pouty.

bachira would sulk and playfully get all pouty with you being a fan of reo. he has nothing against reo but sometimes he just wants to strangle reo for catching his gf's attention more than he did. i mean, you have every merch available of reo. bachira will be like "but i'm better than mr. rich guy!" and puff his cheeks in annoyance while crossing his arms.

HYOMA CHIGIRI — he questions your interests.

chigiri literally stares at you weirdly with your kaiser supporting. most of the times, he doesn't understand what's so cool about kaiser and why you even simped for him. he's probably the 'side eye' bf that doesn't even bother to ask his gf questions. chigiri would rather leave than listen to your delulu self talk. xd.

tags — @anqelically | @yuquinzel @itonashi @daiseukiis @adorlings @noomon @s-shirasenpai

[sl-vega]

✧.* DREAMS LOST, LOVE FOUND

pairing: Chigiri Hyouma x [IDOL!] Reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint, oneshot, strangers to lovers, strangers to friends to lovers, pre-bluelock au, canon compliant

synopsis: in which two former geniuses bond over their potentially lost dreams (or in which two strangers develop feelings by making fun of cheesy news articles about themselves)

CW: potentially ooc chigiri, possible innaccuracies with vocal chord paralysis conditions/symptoms 

"(Y/N) (L/N): A Bright Star that Burned out too Quickly"

"Idol (Y/N) Retiring?!"

"ASRUN's (L/N)'s Career Over?! Get the latest scoop now!"

You scrolled through the magazines in the waiting room. So many cheesy tabloids talking about your latest concert, and possibly last. You froze up on stage, and your voice just didn't work. The gossip columns came up with so many reasons, ranging from fairly possible to completely bizarre. But they all seemed to come to the same conclusion.

Your career was over.

Ended, finished, decimated, completely and utterly over.

And deep down, you knew that. The doctors said that there was a chance that you could recover, even if it didn't occur naturally, surgery was always an option.

You had recently been diagnosed with vocal chord paralysis, which prohibited your ability to talk and sing. And no singing meant no concerts.

No concerts meant no more performing.

No more performing meant that you couldn't be an idol anymore.

You were told your worsened condition had something to do with your hectic rehearsal schedule, and how you pushed yourself to the point of self-harm during practice. Suzuki, the nurse that had been assigned to assist you, insisted that you come to the clinic for weekly check-ups and vocal warm ups.

Your agency managed to fund all of this because they wanted you back performing with the rest of your group members as soon as possible.

But you weren't sure if you could even continue to perform. You could deny it all you wanted, but you weren't in shape to be an idol anymore.

So here you are, rotting in a waiting room, waiting for your parents to come and get you. Once a musical sensation, once hailed as the pride of the idol industry.

Now I'm nothing more than a helpless patient.

You leaned back in your chair, a random sports article in your hand. You hadn't paid any mind to what it was about when you picked it up, all you knew was that it wasn't about you and your doomed career, and that was all you needed.

But your parents weren't coming anytime soon, and you needed to kill some time, so reading a couple pages wouldn't hurt. You glanced at the front cover. It appeared to be some local newspaper that covered soccer teams in the prefecture.

"Chigiri Hyouma: The Red Leopard!"

The front page had those words printed out in a vibrant pink font. You snorted, it would be one thing if this was about some world-class pro, but all this fuss over a high school kid? The picture on the front page wasn't the best either, it was a blur of bright red hair and you could make out what seemed to be a jersey.

But you couldn't discern a clear image of his face though. So naturally, out of curiosity, you had to flip the page.

Chigiri Hyouma huh? You heard that name mentioned somewhere before. You remembered passing by a few girls a couple of months ago that couldn't seem to shut up about him.

Please, he's probably just some amateur that happens to be somewhat good looking, there's no way he's actually all that-

But, it certainly wouldn't hurt to read about him a little more...

And so you did just that, flipping to the next page due to your insatiable curiosity about this Chigiri fellow.

Let's see what you're all about Mr. Red Leopard-

You finally flipped the page not expecting much, but then you were greeted by a very flattering image of the very subject that peaked your interest.

Holy fuck he's really pretty

Luscious red locks, bright pink eyes that you could get lost in, gentle, feminine features yet he still looked so god damn handsome?!

Your eyes widened as a blush crept up to your face. What was this guy doing playing soccer?! He could've easily been a model, or an idol, or a movie star, you weren't even that pretty what the actual fu-

You had to stop your train of thought. You weren't seriously crushing on a photo of some stranger were you?

Yet, against your better judgment, you continued reading the article, it listed a few details such as his stats, position, and his high school among other.

You were consuming all of this information at an oddly fast rate. Why was this guy so captivating to you?

Before you knew it you had sped through the article. And you had somehow memorized everything on those few pages.

God, I'm pathetic...

You rubbed your temples and sighed, you put the article down, and you were about to read a different magazine about something other than your new found infatuation, but as your hand was about to reach to some political newspaper, your gaze quickly shifted to another photo of a familiar red head.

Another article about him?

Looks like someone's local celebrity...

You moved your hand away from the previous paper you were about to pick up, and you exchanged the current article in your hand for the other one about your newest subject of interest.

Surely one more magazine about him wouldn't hurt....

The front cover was a clearer photo of Chigiri, but it wasn't the happiest. It was a picture of him leaning against one of his teammates for support as they escorted him off the field.

"The Red Leopard's Career: OVER?!"

It was from the same local paper that you were reading earlier, seemed the editors had a soft spot for him.

"Chigiri Hyouma damages his leg in his most recent match?! Further statements are awaited from his family, could this be the end of the genius speedster?"

You sighed at the writer's attempt to dramatize the situation, surely Chigri was in pain. Having something you're so passionate about being taken away my your own physical limitations. You definitely knew the feeling.

The feeling of your dream being snatched right before your eyes. The feeling of a critical condition with some complicated-sounding name being the only thing keeping you away from your goal.

He's just like me...

Wait- what were you thinking? First you ogle at a bunch of photos at him, now you're coming up with a bunch of weird parasocial fantasies about how the two of you actually have some things in common?!

I need to get a grip...

You absentmindedly flipped to the next page of article, somewhere you had made peace in the back of your mind about your attraction to the boy. You were like some little school girl, crushing on some cute actor or model that you saw in fashion magazines.

Of course you were soon snapped out of that trance by an unfamiliar voice.

"Didn't know I was such a big deal that a world-class idol would be reading about me."

You lifted your head to the source of the voice, standing in front to you was a young man around your age leaning against a crutch.

Of course before you noticed any of that, you saw the same red hair, gorgeous pink eyes, and soft features that you had been religiously staring at for the past hour.

Holy shit it's actually him.

Holy shit, he knows who I am

HOLY SHIT CHIGIRI HYOUMA KNOWS WHO I AM-

You had a whirlwind of thoughts about the situation. And you had made a countless amount of observations about him. His hair was longer than it was in the pictures, he looked a lot leaner too, but taller as well.

You were probably shamelessly checking him out right about now, but who could blame you? If it wasn't for the crutch, and the evident exhaustion on his face, you would've thought he was an angel rather than a patient.

And so you did what you always did when confronted by an incredibly attractive person.

You panicked.

Am I checking him out? I'm probably checking him out, I should look away. But what if that's rude?! Should I continue making eye contact? Or should I avoid it?! WHY DIDN'T THEY TEACH ME HOW TO TALK TO BOYS WHEN I WAS A TRAINEE?!-

"It's rude to stare you know."

He had nonchalantly said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Oh god, even his voice was gorgeous

"Sorry..."

You muttered, looking down at the floor, averting his vivid eyes using any means necessary.

Great, now he probably thinks I'm a creep, nice going...

"Nah it's fine, sorry if I startled you when I came over, I recognized you 'cuz my sister's a fan, and you looked so engrossed in that article about me so I was pretty curious."

You simply muttered a quiet "Oh" in return.

Why am I like this?! He's trying to make an effort to talk to me, and I'm not even contributing at all!

He moved closer to you, he sat himself down on one of the seats close to you, and pulled out another sports magazine with his face on it.

"I never quite liked that one author that you're reading right now, has a habit of exaggerating the least important details and not giving the full story."

He handed the paper he was holding to you.

"This one's one of my personal favorites."

He smiled and handed the magazine to you. Your hands brushed, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His hands were really soft and gentle.

You took the article from his hand and opened it, your eyes greeted by a huge headlines in all caps; "Chigiri; RISING STAR OF THE FOOTBALL WORLD!"

You couldn't help but snort at the title, these editors were really something else.

"Cheesy I know, but it's better than most."

You giggled again, flipping through the pages of the booklet in your hands. You had pointed to a paragraphs that you had found amusing, to which Chigiri had said "Not everyone is a famous idol you know, some of us locals have to take whatever we can get!"

Next thing you knew, the two of you were talking like two old friends, giggling over silly comments and misconceptions that the media had about the two of you.

You didn't know how, but much time had passed, and quite frankly, you didn't care, Chigiri was charming, and rather fun to talk to.

Now, you were showing him a tabloid about some dating rumour about you and some model that your agency had done a collab with.

"Seriously? One slightly suggestive photo and now they think the two of you are hooking up? Wouldn't your managers be scrambling to cover that up? Doesn't it ruin your "idol" image or somethin'?"

"The higher ups at my job were trying to cover it up before realizing that this sort of publicity was actually pretty positive for my image."

You laughed as you pointed to a few more photos of you and said model. It was nice, being able to laugh about this with someone, it was nice, letting the pain go away, even for a little while. But, Chigiri was a lot more than just a distraction at this point.

Suddenly your phone buzzed.

"Sorry, let me check this real quick."

You took your phone out of your pocket, and it turned out that your father was outside of the clinic waiting for you. You tried to hide the disappointment on your face. You didn't want to leave just yet, not when you were finally making some progress with Chigiri.

But, your dad definitely wouldn't take it well if you wanted to stay out later with a boy, a new boy no less.

You sighed, shoving the device back into your pocket.

"I take it that you need to leave now?" Chigiri asked, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, or maybe you were just super delusional, but it almost sounded like he was disappointed that you had to leave.

"Yeah, sorry..."

"It was nice meeting you, by the way."

He held out his hand.

"Chigiri Hyouma, but you probably know that by now."

You were confused by the gesture at first, you certainly did know his name by now, so why was he doing this?

Oh right, I was too busy crushing on him, so we never formerly introduced ourselves...

You placed your hand in his, reciprocating the handshake.

"(L/N) (Y/N)."

He smiled as you got up, your hand still intertwined with his, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and you almost felt your heart jump out of your body."

You really have me under your spell, Chigiri Hyouma...

[eccentricallygothic]

| Jersey |

Going to a Classico in a Rodrygo jersey may not be as funny as you might think if you're having an illicit affair with Pedri…

Warning(s): Infidelity, fear kink, angry sex, unprotected p-in-v, meanie!Pedri, pinching, biting, choking, dacryphilia, jealousy, doggy style, painal, he's strict, Daddy kink, bondage-ish, degradation, Madrid x Barca rivalry, threatened forced indecent exposure, morally grey themes. MDNI.

MASTERLIST

“Think you're so funny, don't you, you little brat?” Pedri's voice is harsh and his tone menacing. You sob and shake your head from your position against the wall of the window perch that your form is twisted up on. “Maybe I should do a joke of my own and open these blinds here” he roughly leans forward to fumble with said blinds, the sudden change in his position causing for his thick cock to slide even deeper inside your hot and gushing cavern. “And let everyone see you for the dirty little slut that you are” he speaks over your weak little no Daddy pleads, his intimidating ire having no regard for your tears and sobs. 

You thought you were a genius for this… not.

Of course, if you had only worn the jersey that now hung above your head tangled up in your arms in support of your boyfriend, it wouldn't have been so offensive or earth shattering. You simply would have been a girlfriend showing her support. But it wasn't that simple and you weren't that innocent.

No.

Instead, you had smirked when your eyes had landed upon this season's Rodrygo home jersey that he had gotten you in your size. In your defense, you couldn't find anything to wear and this had seemed like a funny killing two birds with one stone solution back then when you were picking out a fit for the eventful day. Show your boyfriend your devotion to him and if you managed to catch the eye of your good friend while wearing the rival club's jersey, it'd make for a nice rile. That was the plan.

Except, you did more than catch said friend's eye. 

As your boyfriend always left way earlier on game days, it was usual for you to arrive a few minutes before the match at the arena by yourself. Sometimes it was like this, other times you were accompanied by the girlfriends and wives of his club mates. Today you were alone and were supposed to meet with your fellow girls on the stands reserved for the lot of you. Only, before you could even reach the bowl, someone had snatched you away and out of the crowd in the blink of an eye. Before you could let out any form of protest or even figure out what was going on, you had been pushed into a dark room and the person had locked the door before turning to hover over your form that he always managed to somehow tower over. 

Pedri.

And though the lighting in the room was scare -mere slits of the stadium lights cutting through the drawn blinds-, his unimpressed expression was bright as day. 

The male didn't speak much for he was in a hurry -you couldn't figure out how he even managed to slip away from his team at a time like this in the first place-, that did not stop him from bending you over and walking you to the window perch whilst one of his hands gave you a proper spanking and the other pushed your offensive jersey up until it served as a lock for your arms. 

“Don't move!” Pedri barks when you try to move from your uncomfortable position again but his order only makes you clench harder. “Slut” he grunts at the wanton moan you let out and he delivers a harsh spank to your blushing ass, the wild snapping of his hips causing for the most obscene sounds to form from the collision of his heavy sack with your sopping cunt. 

“Oh, oww, Daddy, fuck!” You rock back and forth on your side from how Pedri has you positioned under him. “OhmiGod!” Your lower leg is placed behind your upper leg -because you're lying on your hip- and Pedri keeps a firm hand under your elevated thigh to both prevent your legs from closing and also to fuck you as deep as his leaking cock can reach. “Please!” 

“Tell me,” your mouth falls open and your brows furrow in pain when he reaches for one of your nipples and gives the nub a firm pinch. “You act out on purpose, don't you? Think you're just so smart” he pushes your leg further upwards and your back arches as a result of his poking in your organs, the overwhelming sensation causing for your head to loll to one side of the wall. His thick tip menacingly grazes your cervix. “All this so Daddy can put you in your little girl place—”

“Ouchie, Daddy, it hurts!” You complain through your moans but the pain of his rough fucking of your guts only adds to the fiery ever-growing knot between your hips. 

“Good” Pedri's dark mop of short thick hair is already damp at the ends and a thick droplet of sweat runs down the tip of his nose. “It's supposed to, you brat” he is running out of time and that is only firing his anger up even more. “How will your bratty little ass learn otherwise, hm?” Your crumpled up Madrid jersey brings him some satisfaction whilst he fucks you dumb wearing his own but it is not enough. 

You're not sorry enough yet. 

He needs you to have you more pathetic than that.

Pedri doesn't care if the game will start in a few minutes now and he pushes the worry of explaining his disappearance to the side.

“Maybe I should make you parade yourself out to the bowl with your pretty tits hanging out after I am done with you” a pleading sob escapes you and pure terror flashes in your teary eyes. 

“No, please, Daddy, I am sorry!” You know him well enough to know that he is the kind of crazy to make you do it. And you've always been a helpless little fiddle to his whim, brat or not.

“No?” His dark eyebrows furrow in faux disbelief as he fucks you harder and harder, one hand reaching for your drenched cunt to tickle it. Your shoulders shake in response. “But you chose to wear this pathetic little jersey. Surely, you prepared yourself for the possible consequences before acting upon your genius plan” you vehemently shake your head, giving him your puppy eyes even though they never work on the intimidating male. “And I am not going to let you walk out there wearing that thing” he glares at the white material twisted around your arms like it is some kind of hazardous trash. “It's bad enough that I've to see you with limp dick.” Yes, that's his name for your boyfriend who definitely deserves better. 

“Please don't make me go out with my titties on display, Daddy, please!” Stars form in your vision when he slides in a particular direction and you can swear you feel his tip in the base of your stomach. 

“No?” He mocks you in a baby voice— an imitation of your whiny one. “But why not?” Your ass stings from the spanks he gives to your ass with every other thrust, the fuck messy and wild because the narrow time window you have. “If you're big enough to challenge Daddy like this, surely you can handle something like that” your legs try to kick when he picks a pinchful of one of your hips and wrenches your tender skin left and right in a depraved punishing manner. “Wearing nothing at all is definitely better than wearing that anyway.” He furiously spits somewhere over his shoulder in disgust. 

You open your mouth to try and beg your case but his rough taming of your pussy has suspended your thinking and speaking faculties and so you end up saying something completely different. “Oh, Daddy, just like that!” Your whole body tenses in anticipation and your muscles contract to welcome your nearing orgasm. “Oh!” Your back curves outwards and though he has your hips steeled in place, you begin to rock them along to his cock to the best of your ability. 

Pedri looks at you in disbelief for a second before he slowly chuckles. “Of course” one of his hands roughly reach for your throat and he pulls you towards him in an awkward position. “Only you would be dumb enough to think that you can get away with your stunt this easily” you shudder against his mouth that he seals with yours in a primal and hungry kiss, a low and reverberating growl heating up the mouth lock as well your loins even more. Pedri's hot tongue swipes along every inch of your mouth that he can reach in his hurried and greedy swipes, his hips bringing the two of you closer to your edges. “Silly girl” he pants out after pulling back and you cannot help but let out pained cries because of how his teeth cruelly sink into your bottom lip. 

“Pwea— ee!” You gasp and his savage bite on your mouth becomes the least of your worries when he suddenly pops his thick cock out of your stimulated cavern. “W- What—”

“Did you forget, vida?” Sarcasm laces the endearment and his unoccupied hand manhandles the upper half of your body into the wall so now you're face first against it. “This is a punishment… remember?” Your eyes widen when you feel him spread your legs and spit on your pucker that blinks up at him in shock. “How can you, when you're the one who was so eager to bring it upon yourself?” He gathers your juices on his tip by rubbing it against your drenched petals. You shudder because of how sensitive you are, your protestant pout pressing into the wall as you feel your orgasm slip from you. 

“P- Please, Daddy…” But you already know, he is nothing like your sweet boyfriend who gives into your every demand at one bat of your lashes. No. Daddy is strict and knows his way around brats. 

“No can do, little one” Pedri aligns himself atop your quivering asshole and begins to push, aware of the lack of time but stubborn and unwilling to let you off with this disrespect. “You brought it upon yourself” your mouth falls open and you cry loudly, hugging your head with your hoisted arms when your mostly virgin hole begins to stretch against his girth. “And you will take it with thanks” you feel his hands grip a thigh each and he wrenches you open for himself. “And when I am done with you, you will walk out of here with your slutty little ass stuffed full of my cum” the band of your butt squishes around his firm shaft and you hiss at the delicious pain, your needy pussy throbbing at how cruel he can get. “You will sit somewhere dark and alone in timeout and think about your actions and then you will write your sorry lines.” 

You are subdued and limp against the wall, unable to form a response as a line of drool leaks out the corner of your mouth. You feel your body tremble when he pulls almost all the way out to push in again. 

Pedri clicks his tongue and gives you a firm hit on your nether cheeks before grabbing a thick pinchful of the bruise that has formed on your spoilt ass because of his prior spanking.

“Is that clear?” His stern voice makes you shake in the sweet fear of his firm countenance that you're addicted to. He is so intimidating and always seems to know the right thing to do and say. Pedri is an expert at effortlessly handling you in a way you have secretly craved all your life and you can just never get enough of how small and handled he makes you feel when no one else has ever had it in them to do so.

“Y- Yes, sir” you obediently reply, brokenly whining when he pushes you back onto his cock with a beastly grip on your throat, the dominant action causing a thick blob of your arousal to patter on the perch underneath you. 

Though this is not exactly the outcome you had hoped for by doing what you had done, you know it just as well as you know that you would abandon your morality for Pedri all over again if you had to, that if you could redo today, this is exactly where you would still wound up.

. . .

This is so awful, oh my God. Also, I know I always sacrifice Rodrygo but that's because he's my RMA bofi and I live this dilemma everyday as a Madridista TT