#barcelona blurb

[sports-on-sundays]

hello! i have a request for marc guiu where marc and reader have been best friends for a long time now and marc gets together with some girl but reader realises that the girl is just in it for the money and the clout and tries telling marc that but he thinks that she's jealous so he kind of distances her and their friendship is at strain (angst). in the end all is resolved and maybe marc and reader realise their feelings for each other? its completely fine if you dont wanna do it. thank you so much!!!

not right for you / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x best friend!female!reader

Warnings: heights, crying, censored cursing, being used in a relationship (not reader)

Requested?: Yes, thank you.

You stare at the girl in judgment, taking her in. This girlfriend of Marc's, that he's been talking about a lot, excessively, for a few weeks now, finally stands before you. She has long, soft brown hair, falling down her back, perfectly done makeup, a chiseled face, long legs, a skinny frame, and, well, she's gorgeous.

Just being in her presence makes you feel insecure.

Marc has his hand practically glued to the small of her back as she shows you her million dollar perfect smile.

"I've heard lots about you," you say slowly. You really did mean it to sound friendly, but do have to admit that you sound more like a cowboy from a Western movie trying to pick a fight in some shady saloon.

Marc smiles and says, "I never stop talking about you, Olivia."

She giggles at this, and holds her hand out to shake yours. You nod and shake it, still not so sure about this girl.

You try to remind yourself to give her a chance and not just go by your initial gut feeling- but it's hard. It's hard not to read this book by her cover.

Simply because it seems she's putting a lot of effort into her cover- too much effort. Too much effort for it to not reflect her inner personality.

But! You mustn't make such judgments until you really know her, you remind yourself. Despite how hard it is not to.

Well, you thought maybe you would get all buddy-buddy with her to try and see if you can figure her out, but luckily, it looks like that won't be necessary. She's not the type of girl you think you would get alone with much, anyway.

Because Marc won't, shut, up, about, her.

"She's so sweet," he's going on now, "And, like, honestly, adorable." To you, she didn't look very adorable, and rather just super conventionally attractive. But not interesting or unique in anyway. Of course, you don't say this, as he continues with a boyish giggle, "The other day, she wanted to buy this watch and these earrings. So f*cking adorable the way she looked at me with her big puppy dog eyes. I couldn't resist her."

You nod slowly, taking this all in, and say sarcastically, "Sounds just adorable."

Marc doesn't seem to pick up on it. "And then, get this-" he says as he blushes more.

"Hmmm...?" you ask, unimpressed.

And then he goes on about how sweet she was to him. Showering him with compliments and saying he's the best boyfriend ever and blah, blah, blah.

This isn't the only time you've heard things about this girl. Always hungry for the camera type, won't take no for an answer type, pulls being stubborn off as being cute type, whines to her boyfriend until he says 'yes' type. Type you don't like, and the type you reckon isn't the best for Marc, either.

He talks about how happy he is to be able to make her happy and comfortable, since he's playing professional football now, but you've figured out that this girl is clearly just getting money and attention from him for her own good, and probably doesn't really care about him as a person. Not to mention, dating Marc Guiu- though he's certainly not the most well known footballer- makes you famous on some level, for sure.

Finally Marc seems to snap, "Why don't you like Olivia, anyway?"

You frown, hesitating, before saying, "Do you really want me to answer honestly?"

"Of course I do!"

"Well, alright. I'm concerned for you, because to me, it seems clear this girl only wants you for the money, clout, and attention, and doesn't really care about you as a person. I care about you as a person, so therefore, I want you to see you in a relationship with someone who does, too. I mean, you give her things all the time- what has she ever done for you?"

Marc doesn't seem very happy with this proclamation from you, understandably enough. "I don't know! Kisses me."

You snort ruefully at the dumb answer. "Ah, yes. Of course she does. She's got to keep you interested somehow, otherwise she'll lose all the money coming into her bank account. So she knows all she's got to do is keep you romantically, and possibly even sexually, pleased, and she won't stop getting what she wants. And it's easy for her to use you, because you're falling for her gorgeous looks and letting her. She's using you, clearly. I mean, it's clear to me."

"No, she's not," Marc snaps in annoyance, suddenly standing up. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"I don't know! Of her being pretty? Of her being my girlfriend?" He scoffs and walks to the door. "I'm leaving now."

You watch as the door shuts behind him.

So that means Marc doesn't think I'm pretty?

Of course he doesn't, Y/n. He has a girlfriend who's drop-dead beautiful.

And why would he think you'd be jealous of her being his girlfriend?

You don't want to be his girlfriend- at least you don't think so.

It makes you mad to think he would immediately assume your words came from a place of selfishness. They didn't. They're from a place of concern, for your best friend.

For your best friend, who now is avoiding you like the plague.

You haven't seen Marc in two months. You haven't heard him, either. You've only exchanged a few dry text conversations that really did nothing.

You stand up on the rooftop of your apartment building, staring out and down at the sparkling cities lights. Up here, fog has set in, and you feel a chill go through your body. You tighten your jacket around yourself, breathing in the scent of it.

You feel guilty for wearing this coat, though you don't know why.

It's actually Marc's. About a year ago, he left it at your house, and it became yours. When he saw you wearing it, his eyes had lightened up, so though he didn't say anything about it, you know he knew it was his.

And you know it's kind of gross, but you never washed it. You don't wear it often, and frankly, you love the smell of it. It reminds you of him.

And right now, you need to be reminded of him, since you haven't seen him in way too long.

You walk to the ledge and climb up on the barrier, sitting on the flat top of it, letting your legs dangle over.

You feel a little rush travel through your veins at this risky position, before your body calms itself again, and the melancholy feeling returns.

"No one can hear me up here," you say into the air.

"I could say whatever I want, and it wouldn't matter. It could all just get caught in this thick fog and float away. I could forget about it, and pretend it never happened, because no one else is here to hear it."

You let out a shaky breath.

"Marc, I could tell you everything. I could say whatever I want up here, and you wouldn't even know it. It wouldn't matter."

For some reason, at this, your voice cracks a little.

You say softer, "It wouldn't matter, would it?"

You breathe deeply gasping a bit down at the Barcelona street dozens of feet below you.

"Even if I screamed, no one would hear me!" you say, your voice raising.

And you do scream: "Marc! I'll bet my life I care about you more than she does! My life!"

You stare apologetically down.

I guess I'm in he perfect spot to lose that bet.

You feel hot tears threaten at your eyes as you continue, softer, "I want you to be happy.

"You're not happy with her.

"I bet you could be happy with me, Marc."

You sniff, not even sure what you're saying. You've never said things like this before.

But now, alone, knowing nothing you say really matters? It's easier to say things you never really knew you even thought.

"She's not good for you," you practically whine, rubbing at your eyes, getting warm salty liquid all down the back of your hand.

"You're my best friend," you whimper. "And now you're leaving me alone for some faker you just met a few months ago!

"I've known you for years!"

You scream, choking up a little, "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Not even your echo answers you.

You watch as a tear fall off your cheek, and down.

And down and down.

And at some point, it hits the street below.

The thought is surreal, and makes you feel a bit dizzy, even. You clutch the side of the ledge tighter.

Your knuckles are white as you call into the night, your tone lined with tears, "What if I told you I loved you? Would you even care?"

Your head spins. "Would you?"

You shut your eyes and let out a sob, feeling the lights and cars move below you, feeling alone, and separated from the world. Isolated.

But most of all, just very, very confused.

You thought you would be happy to see Marc again. But when you open your door to see him standing there, looking like a wreck, you're not happy.

Not one bit.

"What happened?" you ask as you view the boy with his red, puffy eyes and messy hair.

"Can I come in?"

You sigh, opening the door for him, but comment rudely, "So you only show up at my house, after ignoring me, basically, for two months, because something happened, and you need help?"

"Please, Y/n. That's not the only reason," he sighs, sitting down on your couch with you. You cross your arms, staring at him.

"Then, what?"

"I'm sorry. I realize you were right, now. All along. I was stupid."

"So she broke up with you, huh?"

"I broke up with her."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "What finally knocked you out of your delusions?"

He shrugs. "Your words never stopped bugging me, in the back of my head. Then she started pushing me for more. More, more, more. More money, more attention, more... well, things I wasn't comfortable with so early in our relationship."

You nod slowly. "Right..."

"So, I realized you were right. She's-" his voice breaks. "She's so f*cking greedy."

You lick your lips, still nodding, staring down at the floor.

"But I feel like it was wrong. She begged me to stay... she said she thought I loved her... But I've got to love myself, too, and she was draining me dry. Taking my- my everything."

You nod, finally softening. You put your arm around his back as he stares ahead. A single tear falls slowly down his cheek, before he hastily wipes it away with another sigh. "You did the right thing, Marc. You should have listened from the beginning, but I'm happy you realized it."

"What if I broke her heart, though?"

"That's her fault for getting into a relationship just to use someone! And besides," you add bitterly, "those were probably just crocodile tears."

"You... you think?"

You snort. "I know, Marc."

He hesitates, before saying, turning to look you in your eyes, "I'm sorry... for distancing myself from my best friend like that. I thought you were jealous. I should have taken you for your word."

You swallow back a lump in your throat. You put your hand on his and murmur, "It's okay... I forgive you."

"You- You do?"

You blink in surprise. "Of course I do, Marc. That's what friends are for. Friends will always be there, even when you walk away."

And then your breath hitches when suddenly, he pulls you into a tight hug, half pulling you onto his lap. His hand gently rubs your lower back, which gives you butterflies, and you're extremely aware of every point in which your bodies are touching. "Thank you so much, Y/n," he breathes.

You bury your head in his shoulder, murmuring, "You're welcome. I'm just glad to have my Marc back."

"Your Marc?" he grins, leaning back to meet your eyes. His deep, light brown, gentle eyes. "I like the sound of that. You know, being called yours."

You blush at that. "Only if I can be called yours, too."

He grins and mutters, "You'll always be my best friend first, Y/n. I know I just ended a relationship... but..."

"Oh, God," you squeak, eyes widening. "Are you-"

"I mean, if you-"

"Yeah, I could-"

"Good," he grins, pulling you back into the tight hug. You can feel his heart beating quickly against your chest. He leans his head against your shoulder and gives your neck a little kiss.

"So, you-" you breathe, "you love me- me back?"

His mouth smiles against your neck. "Yeah. I think I've known you long enough to say I love you."

You grin and trace the words into his back.

I love you.

"I'm glad you came around, Marc."

"I'm glad I came around, too, Y/n."

[wileys-russo]

revenge of the missing eyebrow II barça femeni

another christmas fic, part of the pollito universe revenge of the missing eyebrow II barça femeni

"i'll get it!" you'd already spoken when the buzzer rang, darting past alexia who almost fell over with the speed you raced past by, popping up in front of the security box.

confirming the parcel was for you you buzzed in the delivery man to the lobby downstairs, your key already in hand as you shot out the front door, alexia starting with one word before it promptly slammed closed again after you and cut her off.

you tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for the elevator, stepping inside and smiling politely at one of your neighbors, and then rolling your eyes when they just started at you blankly not returning the greeting.

none the less you shot out first when it reached the ground floor, the delivery man at least returning you a smile and not seemingly too interested in small talk as you signed his clipboard and took your parcel.

"necesita ayuda?" the man asked with a slight frown of concern as you lugged the suspiciously large box with you toward the elevator, which from the floor rose up to your rib cage and was nearly as wide as you were.

"no, lo tengo, gracias!" you waved him off as he shrugged, wishing you a happy holidays and heading for the front door as the middle aged couple coming out of the elevator you stepped into gave you a strange look.

"tiempo de navidad." you explained with a curt nod as the woman hummed, her eyes baring into you with an air of judgement before the doors closed and you pulled a face.

"nosy." you rolled your eyes, grunting as the elevator reached your floor and you tugged the package out a strange wooshing sounded as you dragged it down the carpeted hallway toward alexias apartment.

not bothered to fish your keys out you simply kicked the door three times, hearing the deadbolt unlock and once again nearly knocking alexia over as you barreled inside and made a beeline for your room.

"hold it!" you froze, halfway there as the door clicked close and footsteps sounded behind you, alexia stepping in front to block the way with narrowed eyes and arms folded across her chest.

"that is the-" she held up a finger, pulling her phone out of her pocket and tapping around on the screen with her free hand for a moment. "-thirteenth package, just this week!" your captain read off the notes tab she'd kept track on.

"en qué andas pequeña?" the older girl asked, hazel eyes burning in warning not to mess her around as you sighed, dropping the package to the floor with a thump.

"christmas capi. gifts!" you replied in a duh tone with a roll of your eyes, shrugging your shoulders which had locked up from lugging around the heavy package.

"show me." the girl demanded with a raised eyebrow as you scoffed. "no! it could be for you. i do not know what is in it!" you defended gesturing to the lack of label on the box as alexia only hummed.

"confía en mí ale!" you smiled charmingly, picking the box up again with a huff, causing alexia to wince as you began to drag it toward your room again.

"trust you? yo no soy idiota!" alexia called after you, stepping aside as you marched past her, grumbling something inaudible under your breath before keys sounded in the door, alexia immediately distracted now olga was home allowing you to shut yourself away and have a little privacy.

"finally. el último!" you grinned happily, clicking the lock you'd fought tooth and nail for to have on your door and dropping the package to the floor, wasting no time wrestling to open it, eventually doing so with a determined huff.

"one hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three." you counted your final tally, snapping a photo with a grin and sending it to vicky, one of the only other people you'd entrusted to know your little plan.

within seconds your phone rang, your back hitting your mattress and your body bouncing a little as you clicked accept. "hola rata!" you greeted, and though you couldn't see it you knew she was rolling her eyes.

"this is not going to work amiga. for one there is alexia and she-" vicky warned as you faked a yawn, letting her go on the same rant she'd tried to spew at you for the last few weeks as you'd carefully started to align all the little pieces of this vengeful puzzle you were creating.

"are you done?" you sighed when finally there was silence on the other end of the line, a hum sounding in response. "alexia is going to her mami's tomorrow morning, olga is going with her. they both think i am going home to mi familia, and that my cousin, that they have not met and do not have a number for but have seen photo evidence exists, will be picking me up." you started to explain your master plan.

"my mami thinks i am coming on monday, and that i am staying with mi novia over the weekend. mapi and ingrid are leaving for norway, tonight, and yesterday they dropped bagheera to patri." you continued to explain, vicky sighing every now and then.

"frido is leaving for sweden tomorrow morning. i will use my spare key to frido's, to get her spare key for mapi and ingrids. then you, mi novia, martina, pina and alba will meet me there, and you know the rest!" you finished cheerfully, eyes flickering to the door every now and then to make sure no one was listening in, alexia having a habit to hover and try to hear through your door.

"dios mío pollito, we are so dead." "we are not! by the time they get back and see, we will have a water tight alibi."

christmas time, everyone had their guards down, heads focused on the celebrations ahead and the upcoming break, ready for time spent with loved ones and to engorge in enough food for an army.

christmas time, also known as the perfect time for revenge.

~

sure enough, everything went as smoothly as you could planned, bar one of fridos neighbours assuming you were breaking in and calling her. but with a rushed excuse that you just wanted to leave her her christmas gift to come home to which wasn't a total lie, you were back in the clear.

once you'd arrived to the apartment in question, belonging to the norweigan you were quite fond of and the zaragozana you and your freshly grown eyebrow were not, the plan was simple.

gift wrap, everything.

walls, doors, furniture, the roof, the cat tree, the books, the mirror, shoes, clothes, footballs, kitchen utentisils, whatever you could manage in the two days you'd lied your way to having free to wreak a little christmas havoc.

and with the help of your girlfriend and a few friends, you managed a good chunk of it, getting in and out pretty much undetected given mapi had unknowingly provided you with all the tools you needed.

with your teammates all scattered around the globe with their families, and your time spent with your own family keeping you well occupied, you'd almost forgotten all about your little holiday prank.

key word, almost.

~

"oh eres tan hermosa princesa, the most gorgeous in the-" mapi cooed fondly, adoration in her eyes as she stroked her hand softly over bagheera's little head, gentle purrs and chuffs sounding as she did.

"maría!" ingrid called out, snapping her back to reality as she glanced over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "a little help please?" her girlfriend scoffed, struggling to pull their bags out of the car.

"i am helping!" the spaniard held up the black feline tucked away in her arms, a fierce glare sent her way having her shrinking beneath the green eyes locked on her own.

"lo siento princesa, i will help." mapi hurried back to the car, putting bagheera into the carry crate she'd been picked up in and gently nudging her girlfriend out of the way, hauling out the last of their luggage with a grunt.

it took two trips back to the car and a carry on holding the elevator open but eventually everything was loaded in and headed up to their floor, door once more held open this time by one of their neighbours as the two quickly moved everything.

however as they arrived in front of their door, the alarm bells started.

"did you do this?" ingrid questioned with a confused frown, their once brown oak door now covered with red nosed reindeers with a huge bow tied in the middle, the wreath once nailed to the centre of it hanging on the door handle instead.

"no. did you do this?" mapi echoed the question, cautiously poking at the door, frown deepening when she realised it was covered in wrapping paper.

"did-" but the spaniards question fell short, glancing to her side to see ingrid already with her phone up to her ear, a brief conversation with their swedish blonde teammate confirming she also did not do this.

"the building? decorating for christmas?" ingrid guessed, the pair of them really running out of options now as mapi could only shrug, just as clueless though a brief walk up and down their floor showed it was only their door decorated.

ever so cautiously the couple pushed their key in, mapi going first and kicking the door open, wielding an umbrella making her girlfriend roll her eyes.

however they didn't stay that way for long, both girls jaws dropping as they took in what was once their apartment, but now seemed like something out of a cheesy hallmark movie.

both stunned to silence they dropped everything in their hands, bags hitting the ground with a thump and bagheera mewing unhappily from in her crate still by the front door.

however they had much, much, bigger things to worry about.

"who did-why did-when did-" ingrid stammered out, finger tracing the walls which were also plastered with wrapping paper. "the books. they even did the books amor." mapi breathed out, slowly tugging one out and dropping it to the floor in shock.

"oh my-the kitchen. maría, the kitchen." ingrid gasped, every cupboard door, utensil and appliance all neatly wrapped, some even with little bows stuck to the top.

then, they both shared a panicked look of realisation.

"the bedroom!"

feet thumping they burst through and both nearly dropped to their knees, mapi dragging her hands down her face with a sharp inhale, ingrid rubbing her eyes sure this was some sort of horrid dream.

"but who-who-who-" the norweigan stammered, sounding more like an owl than a footballer as mapi paused, sniffing the air and holding up a hand, silencing her girlfriend.

"amor do you smell that?" "what? paper?"

"no. tom ford perfume, vanilla body wash and...pizza?" mapi frowned, ingrid also sniffing the air as within seconds their heads whipped toward one another with wide eyes.

"pollito!"

~

"oye alexia all i am saying is that it was not even two weeks!" you groaned, repeatedly pushing away the tall blonde as she suffocated you in a bear hug every few seconds, sniffing your hair or pinching your cheeks, mumbling about how she'd missed you.

"get a grip." you huffed, shoving her off you as she attempted to wrap her arm around you in a headlock of sorts, racing off ahead toward the training centre.

though no sooner did you push through the doors did you choke as arms grabbed you, lifting you off your feet and squeezing tightly. "thank you for my present liten stjärna!" frido shook you side to side, kissing your head and placing you back down.

"you liked it? good! i could not remember if it was the right one." you sighed in relief, pulled into another hug by the tall swede which this time you returned.

"it was! i have already read it." frido grinned excitedly, you having fited her the latest book in her favorite series, which given it was in swedish was not easy to find.

"todavía? you have been back for two days!" you looked at her in disbelief, her arm settling over your shoulder as she walked with you down the hallway toward the changing rooms, both of you greeting staff members as you passed them.

catching you up on her time in sweden and you about your time with your family eventually you reached the changing rooms, broken apart by being pulled away by various teammates.

"oh pollito!" then, you heard her, and everything you'd almost forgotten came rushing back as mapi strolled over to you, slowly and with a terrifyingly calm smile on her face.

"hola! cómo estuvo noruega?" you plastered a smile on your face, trying desperately to hide the fear bubbling up inside you, knowing the moment the older girl caught a whiff of it she would pounce.

"bueno. qué tal la navidad? did you work on your...wrapping?" mapi asked, cornering you as vicky caught your pleading look and hastily turned her back and you bit down the gasp you nearly let out at the betrayal.

"sí! my mami runs a tight ship. because that is where i was all break, my mami's house." you assured with a less than confident smile as the defenders eyes narrowed, sizing you up.

"alexia! cuándo se fue?" the girls head whipped around, finger pointed accusingly in your direction as a few of the other girls watched on curiously.

"ehh, the 19th? same as me no?" alexia directed the question at you this time as you nodded quickly. "you dropped off my present on the 19th?" frido now chimed in with a curious frown as alexia's eyes slowly narrowed, catching the slight red tint of your ears.

"i thought you were at your girlfriends until the 22nd?" ona chimed in and you shot vicky a glare who winced and hid her face again. "so...where were you? maybe eh...santas workshop?" mapi laughed but there wasn't an ounce of humour in it as you shrunk.

"do you see my hands diablo? the little cuts? the paper cuts?" mapi continued to walk toward you as you tried to back up but only hit the wall with a wince.

"eh ¿feliz navidad? ¿feliz año nuevo?" you tried with a weak smile.

then ingrid walked in, and with one look at her girlfriend, and then at you, all hell broke loose and in the blink of an eye mapi lunged for you and you darted around her and took off running as she sprinted after you with ingrid hot on her heels.

"you get back here tonta! first i am going to shove a whole roll up wrapping paper por el culo and then i am going to shave your head!"

[helen-with-an-a]

 Operation Christmas Kiss

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Keira Walsh x Reader

Description: The team come up with a plan to get Keira and R to confess before Christmas

Word Count: 3k

“So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?” Alexia asked, taking a sip from her drink.

You sat back, watching the others as they told you their Christmas plans. Naturally, your eyes lingered on Keira. Keira … the girl you had been in love with for well over half your life.

You couldn’t help but smile as she laughed at something Aitana had said, her eyes sparkling. You sighed despite yourself. Keira … the girl had been your first kiss all those years ago. ‘Practice … for when we’re older’ you had said. It had been the Christmas camp for the Young Lionesses, and everyone was swapping stories of their first kisses, first loves, first times. You were barely sixteen, but the peer pressure had been a lot. You had made up some bullshit about a girl at school. You had confessed the truth to Keira that night. She had just smiled at you and offered to kiss you. Simple and just like that. Nothing too fancy, nothing crazy, just a friendly gesture. You ignored the butterflies then and you had continued to ignore them. Every brush of her hand against your skin when you partner up, every lingering hug or gentle touch as you moved around your small flat in perfect harmony.

“What about you, chica?” Patri asked, nudging you back to the table.

“Oh um, nothing really.” You smiled, taking a bite from the snacks on the table.

“Nothing?” Mapí repeated.

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. My parents are-”

You started to explain how you didn’t do anything special at Christmas. You never had. You parents had been forced to go to Church and do all the family stuff when they were growing up and they had hated every minute of it. When they finally branched out on their own, Christmas was just a normal day. Sure, you always had a few presents and a nicer meal, but it was never the spectacle that it was for everyone else. Your parents had agreed to fly over to Barcelona this Christmas, arguing that it was about time they had a hot holiday. The best flights they could get was Christmas Day, and that suited you just fine. They would land around midday, and you would spend a few days with them, relishing in the quiet as the rest of the world gorged themselves on overpriced, dry meat they had spent far too long slaving away over in the kitchen. And then your parents would be off again, arguing that they didn’t want to ruin your New Years’ plans and that they would much rather be lounging on a pool bed in Tenerife rather than you cramped flat anyways.

“Do you not want to spend Christmas with them?” Pina asked quietly, her voice a little nervous.

“No, it’s not like th-” You could see the looks people were sharing. The sad pitying looks that meant they thought you didn’t spend Christmas with your family for a very different reason.

“It’s okay, amiga. We understand,” Marta smiled kindly.

“It’s not-” you tried again. You loved your parents, and they loved you. You had no issue with them, and as far as you were aware, they had no issues with you. You knew some others around the table had had issues with their parents, especially when they were teens and trying to figure out their sexuality. But for you, it was never like that. You had never actually ‘come out’ to your parents. You had just brought a girl home when you first moved to Manchester and introduced them to your new girlfriend. No one had batted an eye.

“Vamos, chica, I need el baño and then we shall get another drink, sí?” Ona asked, standing up from her seat, extending her hand to you.

“Uhh, sure … ok…” You let yourself get dragged away by Ona, unable to catch Keira’s eye.

“Ok, we need to do something for la niña. She cannot spend Christmas alone.” Mapí started, her eyes narrowing as she came up with her plan.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to do anything for Christmas, kjære?”

“That is absoluta mierda, Princesa.” Mapí dismissed Ingrid with a wave of her hand. “Everyone wants to do something for Christmas.” Ingrid sighed, shaking her head. She knew her girlfriend, if Mapí had a plan, the plan would be happening regardless of what anyone else said.

It took maybe 10 minutes for a plan to be concocted. A plan that Keira was not too happy about. She had tried, she had tried so hard to get the team to see that there really was no issues, no larger problem at hand that led you to not really ‘doing’ Christmas. You always had been like that. She didn’t do traditional Christmas herself – her family opting for an Indian instead. A habit they had picked up from you. You were 13 when you met, 14 when she had begged her parents to let her spend the holidays with you, and 15 when you spent your first Christmas at the Walsh household.

Her parents had fussed and stressed over the catering for months, you had both watched them bring up Christmas when you visited every school holiday. It had been a throwaway comment really, a joke that you would be happy with an Indian for all you cared. You could see the look they gave you, a curious, intrigued look. ‘Christmas is about family, right? You don’t have to add the stress on top of it. If you want to do a roast, go ahead, but we just do whatever we fancy. Last year it was a roast because Kei was with us, but usually it’s something way more chilled. I think we had picky bits once’. The look on Mrs Walsh’s face was one that you would remember forever. The look of pure and utter relief that someone else had said it. That you had said it. From that Christmas on, there was no more burned potatoes or overcooked turkey. There was an Indian takeaway, dished up with more pride than any carving had ever received.

“Guys, honestly, she doesn’t wan-’

“No, Keira. She needs this.” Mapí wasn’t having any of it.

“She really doesn-” Keira tried again, looking to Lucy for help. Lucy grinned, smiling into her glass as she shrugged.

“Kei,” You shouted, oblivious to the conversation going on at the table. You staggered slightly, flopping heavily onto the ginger’s lap. “Come dance?” You asked, the blush on both of your cheeks having nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I don’t dance, y’know this.” Keira laughed slightly, her arm automatically cradling your waist.

“Please, Kei.” You pulled out your infamous puppy dog eyes, ones you knew she was irresistible to. “For me?” You pouted ever-so-slightly.

“Ugh, fine.” Keira rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile that spread across her lips as you squealed with joy. “The things I do for you,” She grumbled, allowing herself to be pulled across the floor.

“When are they going to realise, they’re head over heels for each other?” Alexia asked, watching you loop your arms around Keira’s neck as her fingers danced with the waistband of your jeans.

“Who?” Vicky asked, trying to follow Alexia’s line of sight.

“Keira and Y/N, estúpida” Pina supplied, pointed to where you and Keira were very much in your own little bubble. The group watched as Keira said something to you, and you dropped your head onto her neck, all sporting smiles as Keira’s fingers traced gentle lines on the sliver of bare skin on your back.

“At least you get a break,” Lucy commented, bringing her arm around Ona’s shoulder. “It was like this at City too, and at camp.”

“Oh god. Do you remember that time when Y/N did her hamstring, and she wasn’t on England camp? It was maybe a week and all I heard from her was ‘Kei this’ and ‘Kei that’.” Ellie chimed in, rolling her eyes at the memory.

You had torn your hamstring a week or so before you were supposed to go away on an England camp. The suddenness of it all had meant you were even more mopey than you would have been normally. Yes, you missed playing, and yes, you weren’t a fan on the rehab. But doing it without Keira to keep your spirits up was too much to handle. She had been by your side from the moment you had sat down on the grass, your face contorting in pain. She had been subbed off a few moments after you and followed you down the tunnel. Keira had driven you home and stayed the night, doting on you hand and foot, acting as you butler, driver and bodyguard until she had to leave for St George’s Park.

When Ellie had picked you up the next morning, you were a vision of sadness. Your hair was sloppily tied up, the blue circles under your eyes more noticeable than ever before. Ellie had taken note of the small 24 printed on both your hoodie and shorts for the whole week.

“God, Kei was no better. ‘I wonder what Y/N’s doing right now?’, ‘Has anyone heard from Y/N?’, ‘I better text her, make sure she’s doing okay’, ‘Oh, sorry I can’t hang out with you, I’m facetiming Y/N’. It was nauseating,” Lucy huffed, taking a swig of her drink.

“Ok, we get it, they’re in love and have been for ages, they just need to get a grip and kiss each other.” Kika laughed, watching her two new friends press themselves closer and closer.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Aitana asked.

“Oh, Kei. I’m so in love with you it hurts.” Patri joked, her eyelids fluttering as you drapped herself over Cata.

“Oh, Y/N/N, me too. I’m just too in my head to do anything about it.” Cata joined in.

“I’m thinking we change our plan. Operation Get Y/N and Keira to Kiss at Christmas is a go.” Mapí turned to the table, bringing out her phone to take notes.

“We may need to shorten the name.” Caro chimed in, a small smile on her face.

“What are they planning?” You asked Keira, your face millimetres from hers.

“They want you to celebrate Christmas.” Keira smiled as you groaned, your head dropping onto her shoulder.

“I am celebrating Christmas, Mum and Dad are flying out on Christmas day.”

“I know that. You know that. They just don’t know that’s how you do Christmas.” Keira pressed a sneaky kiss to your temple. “They want you to spend Christmas with someone, you rescued me before that bit got figured out.”

“No,” you whined. “I love my Christmas plans. A chilled Christmas and then a very fun New Years’ with you.” You couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks when you thought of your New Years’ plans.

“I know you do,” Keira laughed quietly, her cheeks sporting a similar blush. “And it’ll be our first New Years’ together.” You rolled your eyes.

“Stop phrasing it like that. We’ve spent a million New Years’ together.” You complained, shuffling closer, relishing in the feeling of her fingers against your skin.

“No, we haven’t. We have spent 13 together. But this we’ll be our first one as more than just friends.” Keira whispered into your ear.

It was a new development for you and Keira. One that had taken far too long to happen, but over a snowy hot chocolate at the Munich Christmas market when you had flown out to see Georgia, it had happened. It wasn’t really anything epic, nothing like a fairytale. Keira had told you how beautiful you looked, eyes reflecting the lights of the market. You had blushed and told her you thought she looked pretty too. She had pushed some hair off your face, and you were just inches from each other and then suddenly her lips were on yours and you hadn’t looked back since.

You had told your family but beyond that, you were relishing in the privacy of it all. The stolen kisses and quiet declarations were adding to the magic of it all. You knew you needed to tell the team soon, but you were having too much fun watching them moan and groan at each other. You were more than happy to keep it between you to, a perfect little secret to be shared at just the right time.

It was the last home game before the break when Mapí’s plan was finally able to come to light. She had everything planned to perfection. Aitana and Kika were still out on the field with Keira. Ellie and Lucy were signing things for fans and keeping a close eye on you. Alexia was the organiser, the go-between to make sure you would be walking down the tunnel at the same time. Cata was waiting by the locker room door, making sure that no one would stand in the way. Mapí, Patri and Pina were all in the locker room, placing mistletoe at strategic locations across the room. One above the doorway, one above each of your lockers, one by the entrance to the showers and the last one tucked safely next to Mapí’s things, a fail-safe she could wave above you if Plan A, B, C and D fell through.

It was the Man City game, the team knew they had ample time to prepare with how long you and Keira would stay out on the pitch catching up with old friends, but that didn’t help with the nerves. Mapí had even bribed one of the coaches to help. When Alexia gave the signal, a painstakingly crafted but natural movement of taking off her Captain’s armband, the coach would drift over to you, telling your group they needed to come inside for cool down and stretches. At the same time, Carla would beckon Keira over for some media and you would both meet at the top end of the tunnel, ready to walk past the rest of the team and straight into the locker room. Vicky had been chosen to point out the mistletoe if you hadn’t spotted it already. It had originally been Ingrid but that was met with a raised eyebrow and a shake of her head.

“Kjære, are you su-”

“Sí, Ingrid, I am more than sure. It will be un milagro de Navidad.” Mapí waved her girlfriend away, her eyes fixed excitedly on the door.

“- it’ll be nice. I’m glad that Lani and the other Aussies will be able to get back home quickly.” You chatted away to Keira, a City shirt adorning your top half as you pushed your way into the locker room. Pina not-so-subtly came to stand in front of you, stopping you in the doorway.

“You played really well, Chicas.” Pina smiled unnaturally at you.

“Uh, thanks?” You said slowly, although it came out more like a question.

“Sí, muy buen juego” Patri added, her eyes also a bit too wide. You looked towards Keira and back again, you eyes taking in the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Oh, mira eso. You are standing under muérdago. Ellie, what is muérdago en Inglés?” Vicky called, her voice superficially high.

“Mistletoe, Vicky. It is Mistletoe in English.”

“Ahh, sí. Y/N and Keira are standing under mistletoe.” Vicky’s acting was appalling. You glanced up anyway, smiling at the small spring resting above your heads. “Is the tradition the same in England as it is in España?” Vicky held her hands out in a comical shrug.

“You mean, whoever is caught under the mistletoe has to kiss, otherwise it is bad luck?” Ellie added, her acting equally awful.

“Ah, so it is the same.”

You looked over to Mapí, who was vibrating like a kid about to open their most anticipated present.

“Be … so, be … so, beso, beso, beso” Mapí began to chant, her voice carrying across the room.

You looked to Keira, smiling at her as the small blush bloomed across her cheeks. You shrugged, as if saying ‘I’m down if you are’. She nodded shyly, a smile matching yours. You shuffled a little closer, your hand coming to rest on her cheek.

You leaned in, the world around you fading into the background. Her breath hitched as your faces drew closer, her gaze briefly dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. The moment stretched, charged with anticipation, until finally, your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

The room exploded with applause, whoops, and whistles. Mapí was the loudest, clapping her hands and shouting, “Eso es! Así se hace!”

As you pulled back, Keira’s shy smile had turned into a full-blown grin, her eyes sparkling with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. “Well,” she said, laughing softly, “guess we’re lucky now.”

“Guess we are.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you moved away to the bathroom.

“So, how was your first kiss with the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 13?” Lucy asked, nudging Keira with her elbow.

“Oh, that wasn’t our first kiss,” Keira smiled up at her friend, her cheeks still lightly stained with pink.

Lucy blinked. “N-not your first kiss?” She spluttered.

“Oh no, I was her first kiss when we were like 16? I think. It was a youth camp, and everyone was saying about their first kiss and she said she hadn’t had one so I kissed her.”

“J-just like that? You kissed her? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why would I, Luce? It’s not that deep.” Keira laughed, enjoying the look on Lucy’s face.

“Not … not that deep?” Lucy screeched. “Kei, you’ve been in love with her since you were 13, I have had to listen to you both whine and whine about it all and you’ve already kissed her? Keira, what the fuck?”

“Language, Lucia.” Keira teased, bending over to gather her stuff for the shower.

“H-have you kissed her since you were 16?” Lucy asked, trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

“Of course she has,” You chimed in, kissing Keira swiftly on the cheek. “It would be weird not to kiss your girlfriend.”

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[chelseacult]

While You Were Sleeping

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Summary: post-movie date shenanigans

Word Count: 1.3k

The theater brightens as the ending credits roll. You begin to stir awake at the feeling of a gentle hand combing through your hair. Attempting to ignore all of the signs pointing toward your needing to get up, you nuzzle further into the plush leather seat. You feel movement in the seat next to you, followed by the press of soft lips against your forehead.  

“You missed the ending,” Aitana whispers quietly. You feel her smile against your forehead before pulling back a sliver, still hovering. The continuous movement of her fingers in your hair aids only in increasing your desire to fall back asleep. 

“Mmm. You should’ve woken me up,” you whisper back, tiredness evident in your voice. Her hand switches paths and moves to rest on your cheek, her thumb moving softly against your skin. 

“It is okay. I explain to you later.” She’s still speaking quietly as if trying not to startle you. You open your eyes to the sight of her smiling down at you. Her smile brightens when you give her a tired smile in return. 

“Bon dia, preciosa. Good sleep?” You nod, and your eyes flutter shut unconsciously. She makes a noise of disapproval, “Vinga, we need to go. They clean now.” She pulls away from you and stands up from her seat before turning to you. She raises an eyebrow when you make no move to stand up.

You sit up in your seat and reach out a hand towards her, wiggling your fingers, silently asking her to help you up. She rolls her eyes with a small smile and grasps your hand. Before she can attempt to help you up, you use your tangled fingers to pull her into you. She lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a gasp and a laugh. Her free hand moves back to its rightful place in your hair while your arms wrap around her waist, grasping her shirt lightly. 

“I missed you,” you mumble before pecking her lips several times and pulling back.

“Cómo? I was here,” she laughs. She looks at you lovingly and starts to twirl a piece of your hair around her finger.

“You weren’t in my dream, so I missed you.” She laughs again and shakes her head before leaning forward to capture your lips again, a bit slower this time. You squeeze her hand lightly before she pulls away far too soon for your liking, leaving you to chase after her lips.

“I missed you too. And I miss how you talk during the movie,” she teases. You mock gasp and open your mouth to reply before the sounds of rolling carts and footsteps cut you off. Before you can even fully comprehend what you’re hearing, Aitana grabs your free hand and pulls you up, leading you both to the exit. “Mira! I told you. They clean.” 

“Takes two to tango, baby.” You let go of her hand despite her protest and rush to open the theater door for her. 

“You do not dance,” she responds with a slight pout, stopping to stand in front of you. 

You stifle a laugh and gesture outside the door. She ignores your silent request and steps closer to you instead. “You do not!” she reiterates. You ignore her retort and smile at her, making no effort to hide the admiration in your eyes. The corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile, matching adoration present in her eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and she leans into your touch. 

“You’re cute,” you say softly before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek. You gently push her out into the hallway before she can reply.

The faint smell of old popcorn and burnt butter takes over your senses as you walk past the concession stand. That, and the feeling of your girlfriend grabbing your hand. “We should see that next!” she gestures excitedly toward a horror movie poster.

“So you can hide in my shoulder the whole time?” you tease her with a smile. She blushes slightly before bumping her shoulder into yours. “No.” 

“Yes,” you press and bump her shoulder back.

“No. Only at home. The theater has a barrier, so I cannot reach you.” 

You chuckle lightly. “You’ll find a way. I have faith in you.” She drops your hand with a roll of her eyes and walks ahead to open the exit door for you, reversing the roles from earlier. 

“Mi amor,” she nods, a big smile on her face as she stands there holding the door. You smile back at her with a tilt of your head before thanking her. You walk out of the building, Aitana not far behind you. A chill takes over your body as a gust of wind comes by. 

“Told you so,” she quips from behind you, laughing affectionately under her breath. You open your mouth to reply but stop yourself upon feeling her touch on your shoulders. Her hands begin to follow a steady path up and down your arms, attempting to warm you up. The sweetness of the gesture causes warmth to swarm through your body, even more so than the gesture itself.

“Helping?” The smirk is evident in her voice. You hum in approval. “Remember I told you bring a jacket?”

“Mhm,” you hum again. “You’re always right, baby. Happy?”

“Yes, I am. Right and happy,” the midfielder says with a soft squeeze of your shoulders, leaning forward to kiss one of them. She wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into her. “You make me happy,” she whispers in your ear. The feeling of her breath on your ear makes you shiver slightly again.

You turn around in her arms and wrap yours around her neck. That same adoration from earlier is back in Aitana’s eyes. Or maybe it never left. You’re sure it never leaves yours. You pull her closer to you and rest your forehead on hers. You can feel every breath she takes, and the warmth from the wool sweater she’s wearing radiates off of her. She closes her eyes as you gently scratch the back of her neck.

“I love you.” She doesn’t wait for you to say it back before she presses her lips to yours. Warmth once again engulfs your body to the point that you can’t believe you were ever cold. You smile into the kiss at her accented words, the declaration itself, the feeling of her hands squeezing your waist and her lips slowly moving against yours. Just her. 

You pull back hesitantly and open your eyes. She doesn’t let you go too far, keeping you close and resting her forehead on yours. There’s just enough space between your bodies to allow you to breathe out an “I love you” against her lips. She finally opens her eyes at that, and you share a smile as you both catch your breaths.

“Me more,” she counters. Your attempt to oppose her claim of loving you more comes to a halt when she pulls back a bit. A serious look befalls her features. 

“Okay, carinyo. Serious question for you now.” You might’ve been more nervous at her ominousness if it weren’t for her hands reaching down to play with yours. 

“What’s your question?”

She waits a beat. Her facade of seriousness starts to falter the longer she looks at you. 

“Do you remember where we parked the car?” she finally asks, dropping the serious act altogether and smiling at you.

You scoff but can’t help the laugh she pulls from you. Her laugh follows shortly after.

:)

[leclercloml]

Shameless | PG8

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x reader

Summary: where Pedri's girlfriend have 0 filter on and love saying freaky things on social media.

Genre: SMAU

Warnings: suggestive

Author's note; this is something...

Twitter

Instagram

Pedri

liked by yourinstagram, pablogavi and 7,784,628 others

pedri Noche muy feliz porque siempre es especial marcar, y más si son los primeros goles con @/sefutbol. Gracias Palma por tanto cariño. ❤️ Con más ganas que nunca de que la #Euro2024 empiece!! #VamosEspaña

view comments

yourinstagram such a kissable lips.

⤷pedri come kiss it then

⤷youruinstagram such a suckable dick 🤭

⤷pedri come ;)

⤷pablogavi DUDE WTF

⤷yourinstagram go away hater.

⤷username tears bro 😭

⤷username they've definitely makeout infront of him.

⤷pablogavi much worse

⤷username DUDEEE 😭😭

adidasfootball pedri potter 🪄

ferrantorres vamos hermano!

⤷username supportive besties 🥹

fcbarcelona ⚽⚽

⤷username buy wirtz!

⤷username who'll pay the money you?

yourinstagram waiting for you with open arms and open legs. 🛐🛐

⤷pedri I'm right beside you cariño

⤷yourinstagram let tie my hair real quick.

⤷username i understand her, if my man was pedri gonzález I would also be expressive like this.

⤷username fr like we can't even blame her.

yourinstagram "hey, can I take your ability to walk rq?" - the guy on 2nd slide.

⤷username what was your answer?

⤷yourinstagram can't even sit properly ffs.

⤷pedri 😘

⤷username damn ok girlie.

⤷ferrantorres gross. 🤮🤮

⤷alejandrobalde agree. 🤮

⤷username lmao 😭

pablogavi disgusting mfs 🙏🏻

⤷pedri jealous?

⤷pablogavi kill yourself lil bro

⤷yourinstagram hater.

⤷pablogavi biggest.

yourinstagram hey sexy.

⤷pedri hey cariño 💋

⤷username I don't if I want to be her or be with her.

username pedri really bagged a 10/10.

⤷pedri I'm surprised as you're brother.

username dude she's so pretty 😔

⤷yourinstagram all you bby<33

⤷username omg ilysm!!!

liked by yourinstagram

username they're my favourite couple.

pedri added to story 5m ago.

seen by yourinstagram, pablogavi and 2,638,799 others

View replies

yourinstagram babbyyyy<3 now come and fuck me.

⤷pedri I'm literally down stairs cariño

⤷yourinstagram come upstairs then.

pablogavi simp.

alejandrobalde we get it bro

yourinstagram

liked by pedri, sophiaamelia and 856,739 others

yourinstagram summer te quiero mucho. 🍀

view comments

pedri mi niña hermosa ❤️❤️ (my beautiful girl)

⤷yourinstagram mi hermoso chico ❤️ (my beautiful boy)

⤷username I don't who I'm more jealous of.

ferrantorres the 2nd slide was not necessary thank you.

⤷pedri you should be glad I didn't let her post the pic she wanted.

⤷ferrantorres thank you saviour.

pedri you're so hot, have sex with me?

⤷yourinstagram you're on ban.

⤷username tears bro 😭

⤷username so they're crazy CRAZY

mikkykiemeny Mi precioso <33

⤷yourinstagram mi mikkyyy<33

⤷username my favourite wags

username @/pedri how did you bag her Lil bro?

⤷pedri idk mate.

⤷yourinstagram he have a big heart and a big dick.

⤷username oh ok pop off queen 😭

username she's soooooo pretty

twitter

instagram

yourinstagram

liked by pedri, mikkykiemeny and 865,729 others

yourinstagram he can ruin my ability to walk.

view comments

pedri proudly.

⤷username okay king.

⤷username atleast he's winning off pitch

pedri mi bebe

⤷yourinstagram 🫶🏻

username girly calma 😭

username the caption??

pablogavi you all make me wanna kms.

⤷pedri shush.

username my favourite wag ever.

ferrantorres gross mfs.

⤷yourinstagram die.

username I love them sm

username REALEST WAG ever.

[a-pute11as]

caught - alexia putellas

first time doing this so it's a short one. r gets caught staring at alexia in the gym. based on this godly picture.

words - 727

“you’re staring at her again” cata rolled her eyes at my behaviour. we were in the middle of a gym session and i was meant to be spotting her as she did a chest press. meant. yet my focus was much further away than making sure cata didn’t drop a heavy set of weights on her. 

i watched as one of her arms extended upwards and the other lay across her stomach. her muscles prominently pressing against her training top as she continued her set. i watched as her face tensed after every movement, with small grunts leaving her lips as she continued. the way her veins popped out across her hands, highlighting her perfect hands whilst drawing attention to her toned arms. 

“i’m not staring” i said, shaking my head as i looked over at cata, tearing my eyes away from the sight clearly sent from heaven. 

“you’re literally drooling” she laughed whilst continuing the exercise i should’ve been paying attention too. 

i quickly ran my hand across my mouth, making sure she was joking.

“not funny, i don’t drool” i said rolling my eyes as we switched positions for me to begin doing the required exercises. 

“hm, you do when you sleep” she said, shaking her head at my dismissal. 

“one time catalina! that was one time!” i defended, raising my voice whilst trying not to gain too much attention. 

i finished my set before switching with cata again. i stood up again, my eyes instantly traveling to alexia. i knew i shouldn’t but couldn’t stop myself, not with the way her sweat glistened in the fluorescent lights. 

and then her eyes met mine. my cheeks instantly flashed a bright red colour as she looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk. she knew exactly what i was doing, and i wasn’t going to hear the end of it. 

i quickly looked away as i diverted my attention back to cata, “i have a problem” i said, fanning myself with my hand to give me some kind of relief from the heat that was spreading across my body. 

“don’t i know it, it’s like your eyes are permanently glued to her” she said, finishing her set and standing up to join me. 

“no, i’m being serious, ale caught me staring at her, like really caught me, like she looked me dead in the eyes” i whispered, rubbing my hand against my temple. 

she was instantly hunched over laughing, and not quietly, meaning suddenly a lot of eyes were on us. 

“catalina thomas coll lluch, shut the fuck up” i aggressively whispered punching her arm in hopes she’d stop. 

the laughing continued as my face began to develop an even deeper shade of red. 

“i can’t believe she caught you” she managed to get out in between her ridiculously loud laughter. 

i covered both my hands with my face in hopes the embarrassment would disappear. 

“who caught you?” a thick catalan accent appeared behind me, an accent that i knew incredibly well, an accent belonging to the person who just caused me to go as red as possible. 

my hands instantly dropped to my side as i spun round to meet her face.

“no one, she’s just talking about a show we were watching” i explained, lies spilling out of my mouth to somehow hide the embarrassment i was feeling, “she clearly finds it very funny, when it definitely isn’t” i added, giving cata the straightest expression i possibly could. 

“well, if you two are done, could you come spot me?” alexia said, directly a seemingly innocent smile appearing on her face, yet i knew that was a cover for a very cocky grin. i couldn’t believe she was doing this on purpose at this point. 

“oh of course! we just finished” cata said, her laughter instantly disappearing whilst being replaced with an exaggerated smile, as she pushed me closer to alexia by my shoulder. 

“thank you cata, i’ll go easy with her” alexia winked at cata, as she began walking over to her next piece of equipment. 

before joining her i quickly shot cata a strong glare, “i hate you, so so so much” i whispered. 

“try not to stare” i heard her snigger back, which caused me to simply raise my middle finger at her causing the laughing fit to reappear. 

[repulsiveliquidation]

Glass Pane || Ewa Pajor

warnings : smut (18+), semi-public sex, strap-ons, cunnilingus.

a/n : @codiemarin asked, y'all receive. I hope you like it!

“Fuck, kochanie,” Ewa moans, hands slipping down the glass door she was pressed up against. She grinned, pushing herself back on your cock as you thrusted into her. You gripped her hips with fervor, thrusting forward into her with ease. She was so wet, you slipped in and out no problem.

Ewa reached back and held your arm as you fucked into her, making you grab them both and use it as leverage to fuck into her hard. She wasn’t expecting it and honestly once she gathered what you were doing, she was throbbing harder for you.

“Ha-fuck!” she screamed, face pressed hard against the glass. It was getting steamy, the warmth of her skin and the heat of her breath was leaving marks all over the glass.

Marks that were very obviously human.

Holding her arms behind her with one hand and the other snaking around to wrap around her neck, the Polish superstar could barely register all the sensations that were taking over her. There was no mistaking the feeling in her stomach and before she could say something, she came.

Her legs trembled as you fucked her through her high, the musk of her arousal was starting to fill the unfinished gym. The lights were the only ones on, since they had to sneak back in after hours to have some fun.

The smirk she gave you when she was warming up this morning was one you couldn’t get out of your head the rest of the day and at dinner, you brought it up and one thing led to another and here you were, fucking in the unfinished gym, hoping you didn’t get caught. But that’s what gives you the thrill right? The idea of getting caught with Ewa shaking like a leaf on your cock was deeply exhilarating.

You pulled out and turned Ewa around, kneeling on the floor in front of her. She stood tall over you, eyes glossy and unfocused. She whimpered when your tongue flicked over her sensitive clit, hands immediately tangled in your hair as she began to ride your tongue.

It was hot and hard, something that gave her the most electrifying sensations on her swollen folds. She ground down onto your tongue, jaw slacked in pleasure. Your hands gripped her strong thighs, slowly letting them reach behind and grab fistfuls of her muscular ass.

“Close, baby,” Ewa whimpered, now grinding down with more purpose. You nod and start to flick the tip of your tongue over her clit, sucking the swollen nub in between. She’s convulsing and keening over not thirty seconds later, muscles contracting hard as she has her second orgasm of the night in a span of minutes.

She sinks down the cool glass, the sheen of sweat on her skin helps ease the glide. You kiss her and moan into her mouth, feeling Ewa slip her tongue into your mouth. She sits with her legs wide open, gathering a bit of her saliva to coat your strap before she guides it into herself.

You groan when she slips the tip in, pushing your hips forward to fill her up to the hilt. A chuckle leaves you when you look down between you and see that she’s taken all of you, thumb gently playing with her hard nipple.

Her arms wrap around your neck and you hold her close, thrusting into her with passion and finesse. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard floor, holding Ewa up just a enough to keep her from getting carpet burn.

She gets close much faster now, already whimpering and whining in your ear to make her come. She’s beautiful as she begs, hands tugging gently at the hair along your nape. You thrust faster and harder, pulling back briefly to spit on her folds to help with the slide.

She kisses you hard when she comes for the third time, before throwing her head back to moan your name loudly. She’s trembling in your arms as you fuck her through the entirety of her orgasm, begging for you to pull out when she can’t take it anymore.

You do and immediately get to cleaning her up, grabbing your backpack to dig around for some wet wipes. After you help her get her clothes back on and you dress yourself, you both sneak back out the facility, giggling at the fact you got away with your little adventure.

In the morning, you two arrive back at the gym for warmups before training. The girls that were already there were gathered around something, so you two walk over to see what was going on.

“Is it me or does that look like someone ran into that thing?”

“It’s just you Mapi.”

“No! I see it too!” yells Patri. The two of you stand closer to the back and you can feel Ewa get a little antsy.  

“What do you see, Mapi? You can barely see two inches in front of your face and now you can see what’s on that glass?”

Suddenly it clicks for you, both you and Ewa look at each other shellshocked.

They were looking at the glass pane you both fucked against.

“…see, there’s someone’s lips and eyelash marks right there!” Mapi exclaims, getting up close to the glass. “Hmm, wait!”

“Ewa! Didn’t you run into this yesterday?”

The whole team turns and looks at her. She gulps and nods, sputtering out that she was jumping and accidentally got too close.

“Yeah but, these marks are much lower…” examines Mapi, fingers rubbing her chin as she slipped deep into thought.

“Girls! Back to work!”

Ewa darts out of the circle and warms up far away from you; you can’t help but smirk the whole time, watching her blush when you make eye contact with her from across the gym.

Just before you walk onto the pitch, Mapi catches up with you.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she tells you, skipping off towards Ingrid before you could say anything.

“You’re a liar Mapi!”  

[httpsdana]

heyyyyy, i love your work, please can you do where you’re pau cubarsi’s girlfriend and your a med student and take care of him after your injury xxxxx

Healing Touches~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

Pau laid on y/n's couch, his head resting on the armrest with a slight grimace, trying to act casual despite the fresh stitches along his jawline. The injury had happened during his last match, an unfortunate clash that had left him with ten stitches and y/n with a heart full of worry. He’d been patched up by the team doctors, but that didn’t stop her from fretting over him.

y/n sat beside him, brushing a careful hand along his uninjured cheek, studying the stitches with a concerned frown. “Does it hurt a lot, Pau?” she asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He gave her a lopsided smile, clearly trying to look unfazed. “cariño, it’s just a few stitches. Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, attempting to shrug off her worry.

She shot him a gentle but stern look. “Pau, it’s ten stitches across your jaw. Don’t act like this is just a scratch,” she murmured, running her fingers lightly through his hair. “You need to rest, and I’ll make sure you do.”

Pau let out a small sigh, reaching up to take her hand in his. “I know you’re studying to be a doctor and all, but I’m pretty sure the team patched me up well enough,” he teased, giving her hand a light squeeze.

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Well, maybe they did, but I still want to take care of you. You got hurt, Pau, and that’s not something I’m just going to brush off.”

He shifted slightly, pulling her closer so she was leaning over him, a playful look glimmering in his eyes. “Fine, but only because you’re so cute when you’re in ‘doctor mode,’” he teased, his voice soft.

She rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a small smile. “Pau, I’m serious. Now, have you had any water? You need to stay hydrated for healing,” she scolded gently, reaching for the glass she'd brought him earlier.

He chuckled softly, the sound a little muffled by the stitches, and took the glass from her hand, making a show of drinking. “Happy?” he asked, giving her a little wink as he set the glass down.

“Not yet,” she replied, brushing her thumb lightly over the edge of his jaw, careful to avoid the stitches. “But we’ll get there.”

His hand reached up to cup hers, holding it against his cheek as he gazed up at her. “Thank you for taking care of me, amor. I know you’re busy with your studies and all…”

She shushed him softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss near the corner of his mouth. “You’re more important. Now, let me fuss over you, and stop trying to act like you don’t need it,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes despite his injury. “Guess I have no choice but to let my very cute, very smart med student girlfriend look after me,” he said, pulling her down into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

She relaxed into his embrace, careful to avoid his jaw but grateful to feel his warmth, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. It always amazed her how Pau could be so calm and lighthearted, even with stitches on his face. But she knew he was doing it mostly for her, to keep her from worrying too much.

Pau’s fingers traced gentle circles on her back, and he tilted his head slightly, looking at her with that same adoring expression. “You know, amor,” he started, a teasing tone slipping in, “if I knew getting hurt would get me this much attention from you, I’d have gotten injured ages ago.”

She pulled back slightly, playfully swatting his arm. “Pau Cubarsi, don’t you dare joke about that! You better not even think about getting hurt again. I was so worried when I saw you all bloody and in pain ” she scolded, but her voice softened as she met his gaze, the affection in his eyes making her heart flutter.

He chuckled, bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a feather-light kiss to your fingers. “I promise, I’m kidding,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her hand. “But I have to admit… I love this side of you, so caring and worried.”

“You make it sound like I’m never caring,” she replied, pouting slightly.

“No, no,” he laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “You’re always caring. But right now, it’s like you’re my personal nurse. I kind of like it.”

She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Just let me take care of you, okay?” she whispered, feeling her voice soften. “I want you to be all healed and safe. now do you need me to get you something?”

Pau pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice tender. “I’m already feeling better just being with you, cariño, I don't need a thing” he murmured. “It’s like you’re my medicine.”

She felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“For you? Always,” he grinned, his hand moving to stroke her cheek. “Now, doctor, what’s my next treatment? I think it might involve lots of cuddles.”

y/n rolled her eyes, laughing as she pulled him close again. “Fine, but only because you need it.” she shifted carefully, lying beside him on the couch so he could rest his head on her shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

“See? This is the best medicine,” he murmured, his lips pressing light kisses along her collarbone.

y/n giggled, feeling his warm breath against her skin. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around,” she reminded him, trying to keep a serious tone but failing as she felt herself melt into his embrace.

“Then just let me hold you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’ve done enough, cariño. I’m okay now, really.”

She let out a sigh, relaxing in his arms, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her fingertips. “I love you, Pau,” she whispered, voice barely audible.

He tilted his head, his eyes meeting hers with a soft, heartfelt gaze. “I love you too, amor. And thank you… for always being here. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

His words made her heart swell, and she reached up to cup his face, bringing him close enough for a gentle, lingering kiss. His lips were soft against hers, the familiar warmth filling her with a comforting peace.

When she finally pulled back, Pau’s eyes were still closed, a content smile playing on his lips. “Now, that’s what I call the perfect remedy,” he murmured, his voice a sleepy whisper.

y/n chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Then get some rest, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

He opened one eye, giving her a playful smirk. “Only if you stay here with me, nurse.”

“Fine,” she whispered, settling into his arms and pressing one last kiss to his forehead.

She stayed close, feeling his breathing slow as he drifted into sleep, holding her tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

[sports-on-sundays]

hii <3 i have a request for an hector fort one shot. basically he has a crush/is in love with reader but shes few years older than him… she doesnt want to admit her feelings for him because she doesnt date younger boys and thinks it isn’t right. in then end hector makes her realize her feelings or sth like that . thank you if youre going to write this, take Your time anyway <3 have a nice day/evening idk whats Your time zone lol !!

it isn't right / Héctor Fort

Summary: Héctor x adult!female!Barcelona videographer!reader - Description above.

Warnings: blood

Requested?: Yes.

Author's Note: I decided at the end, his birthday passes, just because that felt like it should happen, so that they're both adults. Other than that, thank you.

Héctor kind of refuses to call it a crush.

Because a crush sounds too immature. It sounds like just a little kid crush, that doesn't really matter.

But it does matter, and it's more than just a crush.

Héctor is sure he really does love you.

"Mate, but there's no way," Marc comments, crossing his arms as he walks onto the training pitch with Héctor. "She's, like, so much older than you."

"Not really," Héctor comments in annoyance.

"Do you know how old she is?"

"Yeah!"

"How?"

Héctor glares, embarrassed. "I asked her."

"You did? When? And what did she say?" Marc asks, eyebrows shooting up.

"I don't know... A couple weeks ago. She just told me, and said she just had her birthday."

"Oh. So...? How old is she?"

Héctor glances at his football boots. "Twenty-one."

"Pwoah! Yeah, and you're seventeen!"

"Four years! It's only four years!"

"What year would that be? She was born in 2002? At least she's not from the 90's... Then she'd be really old."

"Yeah, because twenty-five or twenty-six is really old, right?" Héctor comments in disbelief at his teammate.

"Just saying," Marc shrugs. "Either way, you should go for girls your age. You've got no chance with her. She's too pretty, anyway."

"You're saying I'm not good looking?!"

Marc grins. "You're putting words in my mouth!"

"Well, I'll prove you wrong. I'll make her like me. You'll see. I'm going to go talk to her right now."

"Alright. If you say so," Marc comments with an eye roll as he continues walking.

So you look up from your camera to see Héctor approaching you. You smile. You've had a few short conversations with him, and you have to admit, he's sweet. "Hey, Héctor."

He smiles back, blushing a little.

You're not stupid. You've picked up that he's got a little crush on you.

"Hey, Y/n," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You glance to it, but pay that no mind as he continues, "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good... I... can I ask you something?"

You chuckle. "Shoot, Héctor."

"Do you.. Would you say I'm, like, good looking?"

You grin a little. "I think most football players are."

"But, like, me. Specifically...?" he pushes.

You smile. "You're alright." You really do like Héctor. You think he's sweet, and if he were a bit older, he's definitely the type of guy you could see yourself falling for.

But he's just...

He's still so young. You don't even let yourself consider those feelings, because you know that would be wrong. He's not even an adult yet.

"Just alright?" he leans closer.

"Do you want me to tell you you're handsome?"

"I want you to be honest," he grins.

"Why do you think I'm not being honest?" you inquire, turning back to your camera. His hand remains on your shoulder.

"I don't know..."

"Alright, Héctor. You're handsome."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No, I'm not," you respond casually. He remains there awkwardly, just standing there, so you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and say, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Uh, date me?" he suddenly blurts.

You snort, but feel your face heat a bit. "You're basically twelve. Ew."

"I'm seventeen! And you just turned twenty-one, anyway! You're not that much older."

"So someone is just a little stuck on me," you state.

"So what?" he says in annoyance.

You sigh, your eyes softening. "Listen, Héctor. I like you a lot. You're sweet, and kind. But I simply can't date a seventeen-year-old. That goes against my conscience. It's not right. We can be friends, but that's it."

He grins, but there's still a bit of disappointment in his eyes. "I mean, hey. Friends is better than nothing... right?"

"Right," you smile. "Now, you better get to training. You're not paid to talk to me."

He rolls his eyes but runs off to do just that.

"Wow, Héctor... This is so nice..." you say softly as you look around the restaurant you sit in. You and Héctor have been hanging out more, going out places, but every single time, you're sure to remind him it's not a date.

"I figured you'd like it here," Héctor says with pride, crossing his arms across his chest.

You're aware of how much he tries to impress you.

And sometimes it works, but you try not to let him know.

As you eat, he slowly inches his hand towards yours, and slips it on top. But you slip it out, saying, "I reckon friends don't typically do that for no reason, huh, Héctor?" You grin teasingly, rolling your eyes.

He laughs, his cheeks reddening a bit. "Whatever."

You continue eating, and talking, just about life. There's a lot of teasing between you two that you're not ready to admit is flirting.

You've trained your mind to only think about Héctor when he's in front of you, because otherwise, you'd find yourself falling for a seventeen-year-old, and you simply will not let that happen.

You and some of Héctor's other friends are on the beach, playing an epic sand volleyball tournament by the lovely expanse of cool light blue water.

Of course, Héctor made sure to be on the same team as you.

Your long hair has grains of sand in it, and your knees are a little red, but you don't care. You're having the time of your life.

When you take off your tank top in the heat so you're just wearing your swim top, you catch Héctor's eye and snap. "Hey, buddy! Keep your focus! It's your serve!"

He blushes and looks away, before serving.

It's quite a bad serve, and goes straight into the grass on the other end of the net.

You catch his eyes and teasingly stick out your tongue as he argues, "We're on the same team!" with a little laugh.

But then, you run for the ball a few volleys later, slide, hit it up, but have a little tumble, gently hit your head on the pole that holds up the volleyball net, and up laying on your back, staring up at the blue sky, eyes glazed over in confusion.

But only for a moment, before Hector's concerned eyes come into view. Immediately he's there, kneeling by you. "Are you okay?" he asks, putting his hand on your arm.

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I think so..." You feel a bit of a sting below your hairline on your forehead, so you drag your hand over it, and stare in horror when you bring your hand back down to see it covered in blood.

You scream.

"Hey, hey... Looks just like a gash," Héctor says immediately in a soothing tone, giving your arm a little rub. "Come on." He hold his hand out to you to help you up. "I'll help you clean it up in the bathroom."

"Should we keep playing without you guys?" one of Héctor's friends calls as you walk with him toward the bathroom slowly, kind of in a daze.

"Yeah!" Héctor calls back. "We'll be back in a few."

When in the bathroom, you immediately rinse your hand as Héctor begins gently wiping up your forehead, asking gently, "Does it hurt a lot...?"

"No..." you say softly, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Just a little sting... It was just the blood, I think..."

He nods. "The shock of seeing all that blood."

"Right. Exactly," you say with a shaky sigh.

"Just looks like a cut that's bleeding a lot. You'll be a okay," he reassures, and although you could have just told yourself that, it's nice to have someone else saying it. "Just need it to stop bleeding as much, and then we can go back, and I'll get you a Band-Aid for it."

"You thought to bring Band-Aids?" you ask, surprised.

"I somehow remembered, yeah," he chuckles. But then his cheeks redden as he adds, "I mean, it's good I did, in the end. That way, I can take care of you..." His hand gently strokes your arm.

"Shut up, Héctor," you respond, looking away from him in the mirror to shield him from seeing the stupid pinkness on your cheeks. "You realize I could have taken care of myself just fine. I don't need a seventeen-year-old taking care of me."

"Sure," he grins, "but one did, regardless."

You sigh and roll your eyes as he continues to dab at your cut. Once the bleeding has stopped enough to not be dripping blood, he takes your hand and leads you out of the bathroom, saying, "I'll seal this up with a Band-Aid now."

You almost forget to slip your hand back out of his.

When you reach the beach chairs, where the Band-Aids Héctor brought will be, he gently urges you to sit down. You do so, and he kneels in front of you, looking into your eyes. He brushes some hair off your forehead gently, away from the wound, before putting the Band-Aid on it, saying, "There you go! All better." He gives your bare thigh a little pat, which makes your face heat up.

"Héctor, keep your hands to yourself," you say rudely, but he doesn't take offense, and just continues, "Feel better enough to keep playing?"

You nod and stand up with him, walking toward the volleyball court again.

Héctor had a bunch of friends over for his birthday.

Eighteen.

It leaves you with some questions.

He's older, now.

Legally, an adult.

And clearly Héctor has some questions, too, because for a moment, he whispers in your ear, "Will you be able to stay a little longer? After everyone else has left?"

You blink a few times, and can't help but blush. "That's fine. We can do that."

He nods, looking relieved. "Alright. Good. Let's do that."

So later, after a fun couple of hours, you watch the last of Héctor's friends leave.

So only the two of you remain.

He gently takes your hand, and you sit down on the couch together. "So," he begins. "I'm eighteen. I'm an adult now."

You nod slowly. "You are. Look at how much you've grown up," you tease, grinning.

He squeezes your hand. You stare at the two hands, connected. He smiles a bit, saying, "You've had all these months, of really getting to know me."

"I know," you smile. "And I think I like you."

He nods. "Enough...?"

"Enough for what?"

"I know I'm so much younger than you. But think about it. Now I'm eighteen. Eighteen and twenty-one is fine. I mean, Vitor's wife is older than him! He's eighteen!"

You smile softly. "Yeah, that's a good point."

"So?"

"So what?" you grin.

"Would you date me now?"

"Maybe I would," you say softly, feeling butterflies a little.

He grins wider. "Come on. Just say it. I know you like me back."

"Sure, Héctor," you roll your eyes. "I like you back."

He grins, and suddenly hugs you tightly- not what you were expecting, but you didn't know what to expect. "Oh, thank goodness," he mutters. "I've been waiting to hear you say that for months..."

You grin and hug him tighter back, "Yeah, yeah," you say, ruffling his hair. "I'm sure you have been."

[wileys-russo]

Hello writer , hope you are doing well

Missing my little star pollito , so a prompt for her pollito with mapi / barca team in team bonding night at mapi and ingrid apartment "move, you're on my side of the couch."

part of the pollito universe and also a little collab with @woso-dreamzzz OC 'mignon' because i got a few asks for it! my side II barça femeni

you perked up as alexia parked in mapi and ingrid's complex, but before you could even touch the door handle you heard the locks click and groaned, collapsing back into your seat.

"now you two-" alexia began an infamous lecture, your french counterpart sat in the front seat after winning the fight for it even though she fought dirty and hid your phone so she could sneak out to the car first.

"-will be on our very best behaviour, we promise." mignon piped up with a charming smile, alexia glancing backward to look at you and narrowing her eyes at the near identical look on your face as you nodded your enthusastic agreement.

"we ran all of our energy out at training capi." you paused to fake an overly dramatic yawn, stretching your arms backward and exhaling making mignon snicker and alexia hum through pursed lips.

"pollito did anyway after all those extra laps." the girl smirked as your smile dropped and you leaned forward to try and smack her, alexia catching your wrist easily in her hand with a fierce glare.

"this is what i mean! pareja de idiotas." alexia warned as you pulled your wrist away, sneakily using your other hand to dart through the small gap between the door and the chair to pinch your best friends hips as she jolted as if shocked by lightning.

"pollito!" alexia sighed, rubbing her face with her hands as you sheltered your body from the two arms flailing about trying to grab at you.

"oye why do you not stop her! first she is allowed to live by herself and i am not, and now she can hit me but i cannot hit her?" you accused, hissing as the french girl landed a sharp smack on your shin and cursing at her in spanish.

"we are not having this argument again. out! both of you." alexia raised her voice as the pair of you started to bicker, the locks clicking once more as the two of you practically fell out of the car and alexia mumbled a prayer under her breath, locking up and hurrying after the two of you into the building.

she could finally exhale as ingrid answered the door and the two of you shot inside and made a beeline for the other younger girls on the team, the monthly team game night already in full swing as you three were the last to arrive it would seem.

ingrid gave her captain a knowing smile as she welcomed her inside with a hug, closing the door as alexia made her way around with greetings, as she always did as such a natural leader, wanting all of the newer players to feel welcome.

you and mignon on the other hand hadn't bothered, you tackling vicky into a hug which had rapidly turned into the two of you rolling about on the floor wrestling and mignon chattering away to jana.

mapi stood up and let out a piercing whistle which had everyone paying attention and some grumbling with hands over their ears, the zaragozana grinning happily at the mixed reaction she received.

announcing everyone was going to eat before any games started mapi barely finished speaking before everyone was already charging toward the kitchen where ingrid and frido had started dishing up.

not having eaten anything since training you were near ravenous, having chosen to take a well needed nap as soon as you got home, not even making it all the way to bed as you passed out on the couch and woke up to olga telling alexia off for over working you.

to be fair, you'd earned the extra laps she pushed you to do after training, you and mapi having tied everyones boots together when you arrived early before everyone else after mapi took you out for a coffee as the pair of you did every friday.

however your good food fueled mood halted as you arrived back to the couch and found mignon sat in your spot, which she clearly knew given the grin she gave you as your eyes narrowed.

"move, you're on my side of the couch." you warned firmly, cata oohing from where she sat on mignons other side as the french woman shook her head. "no, snooze you lose." she parroted as you pulled a face.

"who taught you that!" you scoffed as the girl nodded toward kika and your eyes rolled. "move, you know thats my side." you repeated again, having claimed the spot as yours from the moment you first came to visit mapi and ingrid.

"no." "déplacer!" you huffed in french now making her grin widen. "no."

"vale." you seemed to give in, sighing and moving to put your plate down on the table as if to sit on the floor, alexia catching your eye across the room and recognizing the look on your face all too well which the girl sat in your spot hadn't quite seen yet.

"pollito-" you heard the catalan call out sternly as she started toward you but it was too late as you let out a war cry and charged, cata's keeper instincts kicking in as she leapt to grab mignons plate milliseconds before you landed on her.

the thump alerted half the team to the scuffle as you managed to drag the slightly taller ex lyon player out of your spot, trying to claw your way back to reclaim it but her hand grabbed the back of your hoodie and yanked you down.

"jusqu'au français!" you hollered in french, teetering on top of mignon before you let out a squeal and she'd thrown you off, alexia's eyes wide as saucers as neither you or mignon had noticed but your head missed the corner of the coffee table by centimetres.

"hey hey capi! my house, i will handle it." mapi appeared in front of alexia who was still charging her way over, dodging and weaving between the multitude of bodies scattered across the floor.

"but-" "no no, you go sit down, eat." mapi assured, patting her best friends shoulder and waving off her concerns, alexia hovering back as the spaniard turning on heel and marched her way over to the pair of you.

you grunted as a hand grabbed the back of your neck, hauling you off of the girl you'd been rolling around with, holding you back as mapi cleared her throat and both you and mignon paused.

"if the pair of you want to fight-" you sighed, bracing yourself to be kicked out or worse embarrassed into a timeout like a nughty child, however the lecture you and mignon expected never came.

"you will do it properly. i will be the referee and keep it fair, which means no spitting, no punching, no arm bars, no biting-" alexia sighed deeply and buried her face in her hands as irene patted her back.

"-now place your bets chicas, fight starts in five! francia contra españa!"

[helen-with-an-a]

Heyy, i hope you're doing well! I wanted to ask if you would be down to write a fic based on the song "drown" by bring me the horizon. I absolutely love this song and it has a place in my heart because this band and also this song carried me through some dark times ( I cried so hard when i heard that song live for the first time 2 months ago xD) . Maybe it could be a barca x reader fic that also deals with $elf h@rm if that is a topic you're comfortable writing about, because reading books and fan fics about this topic has been helping me immensely with my own recovery. So if this is an idea that interests you I would love to read that fic, but if it's a topic you're just not comfortable with feel free to just ignore this ask. (But seriously listen to drown it's such a beautiful song)

Hiiiiii - I hope I did this request and song justice. Please know if you are struggling, you are loved. You are so, so loved and people want to help you. I know asking for help is really hard, but I promise it is worth it. You are worth it.

Drowning

Barça femeni x reader

Description: R feels like she is drowning and the team comes to help her

Word Count: 5.4k

TW: Undescribed Self Harm; Brief mentions of cutting; Bad mental health

Kelly Clarkson once sang that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, that it turns you into a fighter, and helps you stand a little taller. Those words are meant to inspire resilience, to remind you that adversity is supposed to build character and fortify your spirit. But as much as you wanted to believe that, as much as you tried to let those lyrics resonate in your heart, the truth is, you weren’t sure if they were true. You wished with every fibre of your being that they were, but deep down, you felt the weight of life’s challenges pressing down on you. Instead of feeling stronger, you often felt worn down, as if the struggles you faced had chipped away at your resolve rather than bolstered it.

You wanted to feel like a fighter, to stand taller in the face of hardship, but more often than not, you found yourself struggling just to stay on your feet. It was as if each obstacle left a scar that made it harder to move forward, rather than easier. The hope that you’d emerge stronger sometimes felt like a distant dream, and you wondered if that strength Kelly sang about was something you’d ever truly feel.

Half the time, it felt like you were floating – weightless, as if you were drifting through life without a solid anchor. There was a strange sensation of being unmoored, detached from the world around you, almost as if you were existing in a bubble that separated you from everything real and tangible. In those moments, you felt neither grounded nor fully present, as if the weight of your worries and responsibilities had somehow lifted, but so had your sense of purpose and direction. You were there, but not really there – drifting in a kind of limbo where everything seemed just out of reach.

The other half of the time, it felt like you were drowning – barely able to keep your head above the water as the weight of everything threatened to pull you under. The world seemed to close in around you, the pressures and responsibilities of life crashing over you like relentless waves. Each day felt like a struggle just to stay afloat, as if you were constantly treading water in an ocean of overwhelming emotions, fears, and uncertainties.

Your mind was a whirlpool, dragging you down into dark, turbulent depths where it was hard to breathe, hard to think, and hard to see any way out. Every little thing seemed like an anchor, dragging you further beneath the surface, making it harder and harder to find the strength to push back up. The sensation of drowning was terrifying – your heart raced, your breath quickened, and panic took hold as you fought desperately to survive the relentless tide.

In these moments, it felt like you were being suffocated by the weight of your own thoughts and emotions, as if they were water filling your lungs, making it impossible to take a full breath. You tried to fight against it, to keep yourself above the water, but the effort was exhausting, leaving you drained and gasping for air. The more you struggled, the deeper you seemed to sink, and the idea of finding solid ground again felt increasingly out of reach.

There was one thing that brought you a small measure of comfort, a fleeting moment of relief that made you feel a little better. It was like a lifeline thrown to you in the middle of the chaos. Just for that brief instant, your feet were on solid ground again, and you felt a sense of stability that had been missing for so long. In that split second, you weren’t drowning in the suffocating depths of your anxieties, nor were you floating aimlessly through the fog of disconnection.

Instead, you felt anchored, grounded in a reality that was steady and secure. It was as if the storm inside you had paused, and the world had stopped spinning just long enough for you to catch your breath. In that moment, you were fully present, aware of yourself and your surroundings in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The weight that usually pressed so heavily on your chest lifted, and for that brief period, you were able to stand tall and feel the earth beneath you, firm and unwavering.

It didn’t last long – those moments of clarity and peace never did. They slipped away as quickly as they came, like sand through your fingers, leaving you once again adrift in the chaos of your thoughts. The sense of calm and stability that you craved was always fleeting, a temporary reprieve that left you yearning for more. But in the aftermath, when the world once again became overwhelming and your mind descended back into the chaos there was one thing that lingered: the small, neat red lines.

These lines were the only reminder of that brief lucidity, etched into your skin like a secret code that only you could understand. They were delicate but precise, almost methodical in their appearance, as if each one was a calculated attempt to bring some order to the chaos within.

The red lines were your way of marking time, of grounding yourself in a reality that often felt too slippery to hold onto. In those moments when clarity slipped away, when you were once again floating or drowning, they were there to remind you that, for just a moment, you had found your footing. The pain they brought was real, sharp, and immediate – something that could cut through the numbness and confusion, anchoring you back to the present.

It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when life was simpler, when the world seemed brighter and full of possibilities. Your dad used to tell you stories of when you were just a baby, how you were the very picture of happiness –  all gummy smiles and infectious giggles that could light up a room. He would describe how your laughter was so pure, so full of joy, that it could make even the grumpiest person smile. In his eyes, you were a little bundle of sunshine, radiating warmth and love wherever you went.

You often wondered what happened to that little girl, the one who seemed to find joy so easily in everything around her. Where did she go? What changed between those carefree days and now, when the world feels so heavy and your heart so burdened? You tried to remember the last time you felt that kind of unrestrained happiness, but the memories were hazy, like trying to recall a dream that had long since faded.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things started to shift, when the lightness began to slip away, replaced by something much darker. Maybe it was a gradual process, so slow and subtle that you didn’t notice it happening until one day you woke up and realised that the little girl who used to laugh so easily was gone. Or maybe it was something more abrupt, a single event that changed everything, though you couldn’t quite remember what it might have been.

There were times when you’d catch a glimpse of her, that little girl, in the mirror – perhaps in a fleeting smile or a brief moment of joy – but she was always just out of reach, like a shadow that vanished as soon as you tried to hold onto it. The happiness that once came so naturally now felt like a distant memory, something that belonged to a different time, a different version of yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a mourning for the person you used to be, for the life you used to live. What had happened to that carefree spirit, the one who saw the world as a place of wonder and possibility? Where did all those smiles and giggles go, replaced by the weight of anxiety and the burden of unspoken sadness?

You wished you could find your way back to her, to that little girl who knew how to be happy without even trying. But the path seemed unclear, the way forward uncertain, and all you were left with were the memories of who you used to be and the quiet hope that maybe, someday, you might rediscover that lost joy.

Ingrid had sensed that something was off the very first time she met you. It was as if she could see right through the façade you were trying so hard to maintain. You were just 17 at the time, still so young, yet there was something about the way you carried yourself that spoke of a weariness far beyond your years. Most teenagers were full of restless energy, eager to explore the world and discover who they were, but you – there was a heaviness in your eyes, a kind of fatigue that no child should ever have to bear.

When you stood before her, Ingrid could see that the weight of the world was already pressing down on your shoulders. It was in the way you held yourself, as if every movement took a conscious effort, every step a deliberate act to keep from being overwhelmed by the burden you carried. You tried to smile, to present yourself as just another teenager navigating the usual challenges of adolescence, but even your smile seemed strained, like it was something you had to force rather than something that came naturally.

Ingrid noticed how you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable, perhaps in the hope that the world might go easier on you if you took up less space. But it was impossible to ignore the sadness that lingered behind your eyes, a sadness that seemed to have settled there long before its time. It was as if you had lived through experiences that had aged you in ways that others your age couldn’t begin to understand.

There was an unspoken tension in the way you interacted with others, a hesitation that suggested you had learned to guard yourself carefully. Ingrid could tell that you were wary of letting anyone get too close, as if you were afraid that if someone saw too much, they might unravel the carefully constructed image you were trying so desperately to hold together. It was a kind of self-protection, a shield you had built to keep the world at arm’s length, but Ingrid could see through it.

She saw the exhaustion etched into your posture, the way your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as if the weight you carried was too much to bear alone. And though you were still just a teenager, still supposed to be discovering the joys and freedoms of youth, there was an undeniable gravity about you, a maturity born out of hardship that no one your age should have had to endure.

She had gone straight to Mapí, her heart heavy with worry and a sense of urgency she couldn’t ignore. Mapí had always been her anchor, the one person she could turn to when everything else seemed to be spiralling out of control. There was a comfort in Mapí’s presence, a kind of steady reassurance that made the world feel a little less chaotic. And in that moment, when she felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts, there was no one else she could think of who could help her make sense of it all.

As she approached Mapí, she could see the girl was already watching her, those perceptive eyes filled with a quiet understanding. Mapí had always been like that – intuitive, almost as if she could sense when something was wrong without a single word being spoken. It was as if she could read the unspoken emotions, the things that others overlooked or dismissed, and she knew just how to respond without being told.

“I’m worried about her,” Ingrid said quietly to Mapí, her voice tinged with concern as she gestured with her head in your direction. There was a seriousness in her tone that caught Mapí’s attention immediately. Ingrid wasn’t one to express worry lightly; if she was concerned, it meant something was truly wrong.

“Who?” Mapí asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to follow Ingrid’s line of sight. She turned to see who Ingrid was referring to, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

“Den lille,” Ingrid replied softly. It was a name that fit you perfectly, even though you were no longer a small child. To Ingrid, you would always be den lille, the one who needed looking after, the one she couldn’t help but worry about.

Mapí’s gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you sat off to the side, your shoulders hunched slightly as if you were trying to make yourself invisible. She saw the way your fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of your shorts, a nervous habit she had noticed before but never truly understood until now. There was something about your posture, the way you seemed so withdrawn, that tugged at her heart. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it didn’t sit right with Mapí.

“She’s been different lately,” Ingrid continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. “I’m scared, María.”

Mapí’s heart ached at Ingrid’s words. The concern in Ingrid’s voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual composed and confident demeanour she typically displayed. The way Ingrid had hesitated before speaking, the trembling edge to her voice, suggested that this was more than just a fleeting worry – it was a deep, gnawing fear that had taken root in her heart.

Mapí turned her full attention to you, her eyes softening. There was an undeniable shift in your demeanour that had been building over time, and it was clear now that Ingrid’s fears were not unfounded. The way you sat, so isolated and withdrawn, seemed like a cry for help that was too quiet to be heard. Mapí could feel the gravity of the situation pressing down on her, the realisation that something needed to be done before it was too late.

“Ale will know what to do,” Mapí said with false bravado, trying to mask the tremor in her voice behind a veneer of confidence. Her words were meant to reassure Ingrid, to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the growing uncertainty, but inside, she felt a pang of doubt.

Mapí had always relied on Alexia’s wisdom and experience, believing her to be someone who could handle even the most complex of situations with ease. She had a way of approaching problems with calm assurance and a strategic mindset that often brought clarity and solutions where there seemed to be none. Mapí hoped that, with Alexia’s involvement, they could find a way to help you navigate the turmoil you were experiencing.

She knew, however, that this situation was different. The weight of it felt heavier, more personal. Her usually steadfast confidence was being tested, and despite her efforts to maintain a brave front, she couldn’t completely suppress the anxiety that gnawed at her.

Ingrid glanced at Mapí, a mixture of hope and scepticism in her eyes. “You really think so?” she asked, her voice laced with both trust and apprehension.

“Absolutely,” Mapí replied, her tone firm despite the fluttering unease in her chest.

Alexia had noticed the changes in you too, though her observations were more subtle, filtered through a lens of quiet concern rather than overt worry. She had seen you through different stages of life, from the carefree moments of adolescence to the more introspective phases, but lately, something had shifted, and she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

It was in the way you interacted with others, or rather, how you had started to withdraw from those interactions. Alexia, who had always admired your vibrant energy and effortless charm, now saw you retreating into yourself. The once bright and engaging conversations seemed to dwindle, replaced by a more subdued presence that she struggled to reconcile with the person she once knew.

She noticed how you would often linger on the periphery of group activities, participating only half-heartedly, if at all. Your laughter, which used to come so easily, had become rare and forced, a stark contrast to the genuine joy that used to light up your face. Even your physical appearance had changed; where there was once a confident posture, there was now a noticeable slouch, a sign of the weight you seemed to be carrying.

Alexia also observed the small, telling habits that had shifted. The way you fidgeted with your clothes or avoided eye contact during conversations spoke volumes about your internal struggle. It was as if you were trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, a stark departure from the once lively and assertive person she had known.

“Ale, we need to talk,” Mapí said firmly, cornering Alexia in the changing rooms after training one afternoon. Her voice was low and serious, carrying an undertone of urgency that instantly drew Alexia’s full attention. The usual post-training chatter and the clamor of lockers being shut were fading into the background as the gravity of Mapí’s tone cut through the noise.

“Is everything okay?” Alexia asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern as she met Mapí’s gaze. The look in Mapí’s eyes was one Alexia hadn’t seen very often – an earnestness and resolve that spoke of something deeper than just a casual chat. The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more confined as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“No, it’s not,” Ingrid replied, her tone steady but laden with emotion.

Three sets of eyes turned to look at you, the subject of their concern. You sat on a bench, somewhat apart from the group, absorbed in your own thoughts, unaware of the intensity of the discussion unfolding just a few feet away. The distance between you and the others was more than physical; it was as though a chasm had opened up, underscoring the emotional divide that had grown.

You looked so tired. It was a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion, a heaviness that seemed to seep into your very bones. The vibrant energy that once defined you had dimmed, leaving behind a shadow of your former self.

Your eyes, which used to sparkle with curiosity and joy, were now clouded with a fatigue that spoke volumes about the battles you were fighting internally. They were deep and dark, the kind of tiredness that comes from sleepless nights and unspoken worries. The once bright and animated expression you wore had given way to a distant gaze that struggled to focus on the world around you. When you did look up, it was with a slow, measured effort, as if the simple act of meeting someone’s eyes required more energy than you had to spare. Your gaze seemed to drift in and out of focus, mirroring the exhaustion that you felt but could not escape.

Your training top seemed far too big on you now, the fabric hanging off you like a draped shroud. It was as if the clothes themselves reflected the way you had withdrawn from the world; they looked oversized and loose, emphasising the contrast between your current state and the vibrant person you used to be.

Every small movement you made seemed laboured, as though even the simplest actions required a tremendous amount of effort. Your shoulders slouched slightly, as if weighed down by an invisible burden that made every step feel heavier. The casual confidence that once characterised your movements had been replaced by a tentative, almost cautious mannerism, as though you were trying to conserve every ounce of energy you had.

Your breathing was steady but shallow, and every now and then, you let out a sigh that seemed to escape from somewhere deep inside you – a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and resignation. The small, subtle gestures you made, like tucking your hands into your sleeves or curling your legs up on the bench, were instinctive attempts to find some semblance of comfort or protection in a moment where you felt particularly vulnerable.

“Oh, cariño,” Alexia whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of you. The term of endearment slipped from her lips like a soft breath of sorrow, laden with a depth of feeling that words alone could not fully convey. It was a tender utterance meant to bridge the emotional chasm that seemed to separate you from everyone around you.

As Alexia watched you, her eyes were filled with a deep sadness that mirrored the gravity of the moment. The sight of you, sitting apart from the group, lost in your own thoughts, was more than Alexia could bear. Her heart ached as she took in the full extent of your weariness. It was clear that this was not just a fleeting moment of fatigue but a profound, ongoing struggle that had seeped into your very being. The vibrant spirit she once knew seemed overshadowed by a deep, unspoken sorrow that had taken hold.

You weren’t sure why you phoned Ona, out of all people. It wasn’t like you were particularly close with her; in fact, your interactions with her had always been somewhat limited and casual. You knew her mostly through mutual friends and shared activities, exchanging pleasantries and brief conversations but never delving deeply into each other's lives. Yes, you considered her a friend, but your one-on-one time had been minimal, mostly restricted to group settings or casual encounters. She wasn’t someone you confided in regularly, nor did you have a history of sharing personal struggles or intimate details.

Yet, in the midst of your crisis, when everything felt out of control and the world seemed to have narrowed to the confines of your bathroom floor, Ona’s name was the first to come to mind. You sat there, the cold tiles pressing against your legs, a razor gripped tightly in one hand, its cold edge a stark reminder of the darkness you were grappling with. Your thoughts were a swirling mix of desperation and confusion, and in that chaotic mental fog, Ona’s name emerged almost instinctively.

It was an odd choice, and you struggled to understand it yourself. Perhaps it was the nature of your relationship with her – though not deeply personal, it was still a connection that felt solid enough to offer some semblance of support. Sometimes, the familiarity of a person, even if not deeply entrenched, can provide a sense of comfort in moments of profound vulnerability. Ona had always been approachable and kind, traits that, despite the limited interaction, might have seemed reassuring in your current state.

There was also something to be said for the randomness of human emotion and instinct. In moments of deep distress, the mind often grasps at whatever feels familiar, even if it’s not the most logical choice. Ona, being someone who had always been friendly and supportive, perhaps embodied a sense of stability and kindness that was desperately needed in that moment.

“Hola?” Her voice came through the phone, laden with sleep, thick with the grogginess of having been abruptly roused from slumber. There was a softness to her tone, a slow, drowsy lilt that spoke of the deep relaxation she had been in just moments before. The initial, half-hearted curiosity in her voice quickly sharpened into something more alert as she processed the unusual hour and the unexpected call.

“I …” You began, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming emotions that had gripped you. Your voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, laden with a mixture of vulnerability and desperation. It was as if the sheer effort of making the call had drained you, leaving only a fragile thread of sound that barely carried your intent.

“Pequeña?” Ona’s voice was suddenly more awake, filled with concern. The fragility in your voice, so unlike the casual exchanges you had shared before, pierced through her initial drowsiness. The realisation that something was seriously wrong caused her to sit upright in bed, the sense of alarm and urgency pushing away the remnants of sleep.

“Help me,” you managed to utter, the words escaping in a pained whisper

You woke up in hospital. The room cold and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones, despite the layers of blankets draped over you. The air felt thin and clinical – you had never known such an impersonal space existed. The walls were a clinical shade of white, interrupted only by the occasional piece of medical equipment or the sparse, functional décor meant to provide minimal distraction. The lighting was bright and unyielding, casting a harsh glare that made the room feel even colder and more impersonal. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, their steady hum creating a rhythm that seemed oddly out of place.

Your bed, positioned at the centre of the room, was surrounded by a fortress of medical paraphernalia. An IV drip hung beside you, its clear fluids slowly trickling down a tube that was taped to your arm. The beeping of a heart monitor provided a steady, monotonous cadence, a reminder of the life support systems that were now a part of your immediate environment. The rhythmic sound was oddly comforting and unnerving all at once, a constant reminder of your current state and the care being provided.

The air was filled with a faint, antiseptic scent – a mix of cleaning agents and medicinal odours that seemed to hang in the atmosphere like an unwelcome guest. It was a smell that clung to everything, from the freshly laundered hospital sheets to the disposable gowns and sterile gloves that the medical staff wore.

There was a warm weight in your right hand. It took you a moment to realise what it was. A hand. A hand connected to an arm, that led to a shoulder, that was attached to a whole person. The fingers resting gently in your grasp were familiar and comforting, their gentle pressure offering a steady reassurance. You turned your head slightly, and through the haze of your groggy state, you saw the face of the person whose hand you were holding.

“Hi,” Ona smiled softly, her expression a blend of warmth and reassurance.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a weak echo of her greeting, laden with the exhaustion and vulnerability you felt. Your gaze drifted to the hand still resting in yours. She followed your stare, squeezing gently when she realised what you were looking at.

 “The others have got to get food,” Ona continued, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s just us, if you want to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” you countered, the words a defense mechanism. If you denied it, it would all go away.

“Do not play dumb, pequeña.” Ona’s voice carried a note of gentle reproach. Her tone was soft but resolute.

“I …” you began, but the words seemed to falter before they could take shape. The enormity of your emotions was difficult to articulate, and the effort to speak felt almost insurmountable. You struggled to find the right words, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

But how could she truly understand? What little you knew about her life seemed almost painfully perfect by comparison. From the outside, Ona’s existence appeared to be a seamless tapestry of success and happiness. Her football career was thriving, each game a testament to her skill and dedication. She was admired and celebrated by teammates and fans alike, her talent on the field a source of pride and achievement.

Her relationship was also the stuff of dreams. Ona had Lucy, someone who seemed to bring out the best in her, their interactions marked by genuine affection and mutual support. They were often seen together, sharing moments of joy and laughter that spoke of a deep and abiding connection. Their bond was one of those rare partnerships that seemed to transcend the everyday challenges, offering a glimpse into a love that was both passionate and enduring.

Her circle of friends appeared to be equally ideal. They were supportive and loyal, always there for one another through thick and thin. The camaraderie and warmth of their friendship were evident in the way they interacted, their shared moments of happiness and mutual encouragement. It was a friendship that seemed to offer a solid foundation, a network of support that was both comforting and reliable.

And then there was her family – an image of stability and happiness. They were often seen together, their interactions filled with laughter and love. The family dynamic seemed to be one of mutual respect and genuine affection, a supportive backdrop to Ona’s life that added to the picture of her seemingly perfect existence.

In contrast, your own life felt chaotic and fraught with difficulties. The weight of your struggles seemed all the more daunting when juxtaposed against Ona’s polished image. It was easy to feel that her understanding of your pain was limited, that the perfection you saw in her life might somehow preclude her from fully grasping the depth of your own challenges. You wondered if her empathy was genuine or if it was simply a reflection of her innate kindness, an attempt to reach across the chasm of your differences and offer comfort despite the apparent disparity between your lives.

“If you don’t want to talk yet, that’s fine. But let me show you something.” She pushed up her sleeve.

C O N T ; N U E

“You’re not alone in this, pequeña. No one is ever alone.” Ona’s voice was steady, a soft but firm anchor amidst the storm. She shifted slightly, her fingers gently tracing over a tattoo on her arm. “I got this just after I moved to England,” she began, her tone becoming more reflective. “I felt so alone. I didn’t speak the language very well, I had no friends, and we were in lockdown. Everything was different.” Her gaze softened as she looked at the tattoo, her fingers moving lightly over its surface, as if the act itself was a form of remembering and honouring a past struggle.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of the hospital blending into a background hum as Ona continued. “I almost did it, y’know. I was really, really close – had the bottle and everything.” Her voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in the veneer of her composed exterior. “I haven’t even told Lucy this.” She laughed humourlessly.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ona took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled gently. “Alessia knocked on my door. She noticed I looked a little down and came to check on me. I don’t know if she saw the pills or not, but she stayed with me all day.” The warmth in her eyes deepened as she spoke. “She asked me to teach her some Spanish, she taught me how to make pasta from scratch. She didn’t let me leave her side for three days. Even then, as soon as she left Tooney appeared.”

“Wh-why are you telling me this?” Your voice quivered, the words struggling to get out over the lump in your throat.

Ona’s eyes softened with a blend of compassion and determination. “So that you know you’re not alone,” she began, her voice steady and full of quiet resolve. “I don’t know the ins and outs of what you’re going through, but just know that I’m here, we all are. We aren’t going anywhere.” She promised.

She paused, allowing her words to settle, as if to let the depth of her meaning fully resonate. You blinked, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. The tears were a mixture of relief and sadness.

“You are loved, pequeña. So, so loved. And we will be here for you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes.”

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (2) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 1 | masterlist | word count: 1803

summary: Jenni promised reader's daughter Mila to come to her first football match, can she keep her promise despite being away with the Spanish national team.

author's note: dear readers, you asked for a part 2 and here it's, please enjoy. Let us know your thoughts on the oneshot.💜🖤

“But you promised to come…”, Mila whined through the phone, her voice on the verge of cracking. The disappointment in the little girls voice weighed heavy on Jennis heart.

She winced as she replied: “I know, I know.”

“It’s my first important game…”, Mila complained.

Jenni sighed. She was the one who had helped Mila find a football team in her age class, the one who had bought her first pair of cleats and also the one who had promised her support for her first game. Only, she had forgotten that she would be away with the national team at the time of Milas first game.

“I'll find a way to be there, Mila.”, Jenni promised determinedly. She didn’t know how yet but there was no way she would disappoint her.

Mila seemed a bit more calm at the end of their call but at the same time the conversation had attracted the interest of Jennis spanish team mates.

“Mila has a game?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows moved towards her hairline with curiosity.

Jenni threw her phone on her hotelbed with frustration: “Yes, it’s her first one. She asked me to come weeks ago.”

Irene who leaned in the doorframe smiled to herself: “Do you all remember your first games?”

“Who doesn’t?”, Alexia replied with a grin.

“We all do.”, Jenni agreed. She knew from experience how formative first games could be.

Aitana stood there, frowning at Jenni like her brain was working at full speed: “But how do you get to her game when you’re here with us right now?”

The hotelroom went quiet as everyone seemed to search for a solution to help Jenni out.

“Easy, fake an injury.”, Mariona blurted out.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her. The disbelief about her suggestion was palpable inside the room.

Jennis face suddenly lit up as she got up from her bed: “During training later? Mario, you’re a genius!”

Excitedly, the darkhaired player pressed a grateful kiss to Marionas cheek and picked her up to whirl her around.

“Jenni!”, she protested, her cheeks slightly reddened.

“Sorry!”, Jenni laughed and finally let Mariona back down.

“Don’t tell anyone that I had anything to do with it.”, Mariona pleaded.

Jenni winked at her nonchalantly: “Oh, don’t worry, Darling. I’d not tell a soul.”

“Good.”

A few hours later, Jenni went down just as planned during a training drill. She held her knee and screamed in pain. The other players crowded around her, faking worried looks. Alexias eyebrows knotted together, indicating that Jenni was definitely overdoing it.

“Jennifer? Are you alright?”, their coach asked, crouching down to Jenni.

“No.”, the football player moaned.

“The physio should take a look at it.”, Alexia interrupted, trying to steer the conversation into the right direction.

Jenni nodded quickly: “Yes, just to be sure. That really didn’t feel good.”

“Okay.”, Montse agreed as she watched her get up and limp off towards the physios.

A short time later, the physiotherapist Pilar realised with a sour face. “You’re fine, Jennifer.”

 “Listen I know I’m fine but there’s a game tonight I’ve to attend. It’s a little girl’s first football match.”, Jenni pleaded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You want me to lie and say it’s bad enough that you’ve to leave?”

“Not to leave necessarily only to take a break until tomorrow. Please.”, Jenni looked at her with big eyes.

“Excuse me, you want me to compromise my integrity.”, Pilar protested.

“It’s for a good cause.”, the striker gave her the most charming smile in the hope it would work on the physio like it did on all the women before. Nowadays, the specific grin was usually reserved for Mila and you. But this was an emergency.

“You owe me, Hermoso.”, she warned her.

“I know, you can count on me.”, Jenni reassured the physio.

“Go.”, Pilar replied in an impatient tone.

“Thank you!”, the football player promptly jumped off the lounger throwing kisses at her.

“Ugh.”, the physio waved it off, pretending to be disgusted by it.

In awe you watched your daughter warm up with the teammates who became her friends. Mila and you were heartbroken that your friend hadn't come yet despite her promise, which she was supposedly so keen to keep.

The referee started the game that’s why you didn’t hear the person coming who put her arms around your waist with a cheeky smile on her lips. A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you turned around to see who dared to touch you like that.

“Jenni?!”, you exclaimed surprised, glancing at the face you came to love so much over the past year.

“Hey.”, the Spanish woman greeted you grinning.

“You really made it to the game.”, you whispered deeply impressed by her dedication.

“I told you I’d. I never break a promise.”, Jenni answered in a serious tone.

“True, it’s been twelve months, and you never ran away.”, you noted.

“Can’t believe you still think I would.”, she remarked hurt.

“No, I trust you.”, you disagreed whole-heartedly, cupping her cheeks with your hands before exchanging a gentle kiss with the striker. For one moment the pitch and the game faded into the background.

“I think I deserve that trust by now.”, Jenni stated earnestly, pressing a kiss to your hand before releasing you fully.

“You do.”, you responded. Both of you followed the game proudly. The Spanish national team player was the one who cheered and supported the girls the loudest.

A bright smile lit up Mila’s face during a short break once she realized that Jenni did came to the game to see her play. Shily your daughter waved at her which the striker returned with her hands formed to a heart. When the game was on again Mila even scored her first goal.

“There she comes! Hi Mila.”, Jenni kneed down to hug the small girl after the match officially ended.

Milas face split into a big grin once she spotted Jenni standing next to you. She immediately broke into a run and jumped into Jennis arms. “Jenni, you made it!“

“Of course I did. I promised you.“, Jenni laughed as she spun the little girl around before setting her back down on the grass.

Mila cocked her head: “Have you seen me play? You looked distracted by looking at Mami.“

You failed at stifling your laughter while your girlfriend replied: “Hey! Of course I watched you play.“

“Uhu, sure.“, Mila nodded, her little face filled with sass.

Jenni raised her eyebrow at her with a grin: “Excuse me? I came all the way from my national team camp to watch you play.“

The tiny football players’ eyes widened in awe: “How did you do that?“

“Magic.“, Jenni explained, waving her hands through the air as if she was casting some spells.

“Wow.“

“All for you.“, she winked at your daughter.

“Thank you, Jenni.“, Mila beamed and pressed yourself against the football player for another hug.

Jenni kneeled down to her: “You did so well today. Were you nervous?“

Mila nodded hesitantly: “Yes but Mami said she believes in me.“

“We both believed in you. Don’t worry, the nervousness gets better after a few games.“

“It does? Also, told coach that you’re a good coach too.“, Mila said and pointed in the direction of woman your age who watched you with raised eyebrows.

You shot her a smile while Jenni laughed: “Oh god.“

“She didn’t like to hear that.“, Mila confirmed what you both could read from the face of her coach already.

Jenni bit her lip to stop herself from laughing: “I bet so.“

“Mila, are you hungry?“, you quickly changed the topic, impatient to leave the football pitch and the watchful eyes of the youth coach.

“Yes!“

You turned to your girlfriend: “What about you, Jenni?“

“I think I have time to take my girls out for food.“, she winked.

“Perfect.“, you smiled.

Jenni held out her hand for Mila. You took the other hand of your daughter. “Let’s go.“

“Please, I’m starving.“, Mila complained which caused all three of you to break into laughter again.

Jenni ruffled through the young girls hair: “Don’t worry, you will get some food to fuel your body after such a long game.“

You found yourself at a restaurant shortly after. Mila was busy digging into her chicken tenders and you watched Jenni pick at her salad.

But there was something that your girlfriend had said earlier that you couldn’t get out of your head. You leaned forward, your chin resting on your hand and watched Jenni curiously: “So… how did you get out of the Spain camp?“

Chewing on a tomato, Jenni shook her head: “Can’t tell you that.“

“It’s top secret, huh?”, you smirked.

“Yes, it’s between me, the girls and our physio.”, she winked conspiratorially.

The small comment of the striker sparked Mila’s curiosity as well. “Was it dangerous?”

“A little bit.”, Jenni admitted sounding amused.

“Woah, that’s so cool.”, your daughter marvelled.

“Mila!”, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly.

“But mami you must admit it’s true.”, Mila defended herself.

Swiftly you changed the topic, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. “When do you have to go back?”

“Tonight, but I can take Mila to bed before that.”, Jenni answered smiling.

“Really?”, your child asked beaming with delight.

“Really.”, the footballer confirmed mirroring her excitement.

“Good.”, Mila nodded satisfied.

The dinner with three had gone by in a blink.

In an animated tone Jenni read out loud to your daughter in the child’s bedroom. It was a story for boys and girls featuring the life story of Marta. In between you could hear Mila’s lively comments she exchanged with your girlfriend until there was only the silence of the night.

“She’s sleeping?”, you questioned as Jenni closed the door behind her.

“Yes.”, she affirmed calmly.

“Wonderful.”, you muttered gleefully. Eye to eye, you noticed a desire and lust in the way the striker looked at you. A blush crept upon your cheeks feeling the intensity of her stare. “What? Why are looking at me like that Jennifer?”

“No reason?”, she murmured innocently.

“No, tell me.”, you demanded in the knowledge that your lover was lying.  

“Well, I’ve some more time before I’ve to leave.”, she began mischievously.  

“You mean long enough to..?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time don’t you agree?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

With a playful expression Jenni took your hand to guide you to your shared bedroom, leaving no doubt that she was fully in line with what just passed your lips.

Everything started with a promise and ended with another one.

After you two made love together Jenni promised that you three would be a forever thing. Something like the three musketeers against a man’s world which despite all it’s harshness would never get you down.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[planetpedri]

Héctor Fort who can’t help but look down at reader over everything and anything bc he knows how it makes them flush and avert their gaze

Those eyes — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: Héctor, who loves to see the familiar rosy color blossom across your cheeks. He does everything to see it, but he finds the easiest way to do so, is by looking down at you with a grin on his face.

Word count: 390+

Disclaimer/s: None, just fluff!

A/N: another draft from the summer . . .

Walks with you boyfriend was always enjoyable. You liked to sight see, and he loved to just spend time with you. The summer breeze brushed against your face as you leaned over the railing to look at the view. The city spread out below you, the building lights twinkling beneath the slowly darkening sky.

“I love this city.” You say quietly, turning to glance up at your boyfriend. A small flush passes across your cheeks as you realize he was already looking down at you. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Héctor asks, suppressing the smirk that threatened his lips. His eyes trail across your face, tracing your features he seemed to love so much. He knew how much it affected you when he did that, which only prompted him to do it more.

His attentive stare only has you growing more flustered. “Quit staring down at me! Look at the view, that is why we walked all the way here is it not?”

Héctor simply shrugs, not looking away. “I’d rather look at you.” This elicits a groan from you along with an eye roll. “What’s that for!?”

“You are such a corn ball.” You laugh, shooing him away with a dismissive hand.

The brunette trails his hand up from the small of your back to your shoulders, sending goosebumps everywhere his hand touched, eventually his arm loops around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

Héctor uses his other hand to hook his finger under your chin, forcing your head to look back up at him. Your heart stammers in your chest as you meet your boyfriend’s eyes. “I love you.” He whispers, dipping down to hover above your lips.

A wide smile breaks out on your face. “I love you, too.” You whisper right back, standing on your tip toes to place a quick peck to his lips.

When you pull away, Héctor makes a sound of protest, his lips chasing after yours, though you wiggle out of his grasp and take a step back. “Nuh-uh! We are sight seeing!”

“In a city we’ve lived in for years! We’ve seen this view a million times!” Héctor frowns, though his eyes sparkle with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Boo-hoo. Now, look at the view.” You point to the city scapes, flashing him a teasing smile.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[kierantierney3]

Pedri

The one where Pedri is jealous.

Summary: In which a certain Real Madrid is always in your likes and your boyfriend gets jealous and has to show you belong to him.

Masterlist

Face claim TingTing Lai

yourusername

Barcelona,Spain

liked by pedri, judebellingham and 1,839,919 others

yourusername Sunny Barcelona my favourite time of the year. 🫶🏻

view all comments

judebellingham Madrid?

pedri My loverrrr 😘

user Mr Jude bellingham is the likes and comments i’m jealous

yourusername story

pedri

liked by yourusername, _ferminlopez and 3,199,018 others

pedri 📍

view all comments

yourusername My fine ass man 😋😋😋

user He’s so fineeeeeee

user Ok but him or Jude bellingham?????

_ferminlopez Nicee

yourusername

liked by pedri, judebellingham and 1,111,930 others

yourusername Season ended means holidays with my favourite person. 🫶🏻

view all comments

pedri Wow 🤩

user Okay but if my boyfriend doesn’t make me smile like this i don’t want him

judebellingham 👍🏾

user Literally glowing in all these photos

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, pedri and 1,510,728 others

yourusername 🐻 face

view all comments

yourusername Did you like my caption? I found it funny.

Pedri Can we please stay on holiday forever?

user I want to go on holiday with you and Pedri please and thank you.

pedri

liked by yourusername, marcguiu9 and 3,139,998 others

pedri Mine

tagged yourusername

view all comments

yourusername Always and forever ♾️

marcguiu9 Pedri? last photo explain

user Might as well of tagged Jude 😹😹

user King behaviour

ilkayguendogan Young love 😂😂

—-

There is barely any Pedri posts anymore..

[purinfelix]

could u write something with joão pulling reader by the belt loops of her baggy jeans because he’s clingy

anon you have me weak with this request.. - hope you don't mind it's a little short!

It's like you suddenly gained consciousness after being on auto-pilot. Suddenly the clamour of the party - the bass of the music shaking the floor, people chattering and yelling around you, cups being slammed on every surface possible - floods through your ears, overwhelming your senses. You can't seem to recall how you ended up here, or why you even decided to come. You are, however, made aware of the person in front of you, an old friend probably, whom you can't actually seem to remember getting into a conversation with, but you still try your best to listen to.

"Yeah, so after high school I just up and left you know," they yell over the music, not even looking at you as you do. You can only nod in faux-understanding.

That's when you feel it, a tug from behind you, a tightening around your waist. You turn around to spot, on a couch you weren't aware was behind you, your boyfriend, eyes telling you everything you needed to know about how he felt about this party. His finger tugged at the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you closer to him.

Excusing yourself from your conversation you shuffle back to him, yet his finger stays hooked into your belt loop, not letting you go. All it takes is one look into his eyes and you're sold. You bend down to whisper in his ear, the only way you can properly communicate with everything going on around you.

"You want to leave?"

Straightening up, you watch him nod, bored and a little tired. Finally, he unloops his finger, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, as you press a reassuring kiss to the side of his temple.