#bayern munich x reader

[cher-rei]

Heyy girlll, loved your last Musiala drabble. Could you maybe write another one where reader gets really jealous and Jamal eventually notice and just teases her ?

the boy is mine– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

the boy is mine, I can't wait to try him [the boy is mine– ariana grande]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: the new intern seemed a little touchy and you felt the need to put her in her place.

genre(s): take a guess... (fluff!)

[w.c: 1.4k] masterlist

notes: *giggles*

jamal was having one of his best practices yet as you watched from your spot in the stands. you wore a proud smile as he deftly maneuvered the ball past the defenders and scored, looking to you with a puppy-like smile to see if you noticed.

when you called to say that your lecture ended early and that you'd be joining him for practice today, he was ecstatic. he loved the opportunity to show off whenever he could and you were more than happy to cheer him on in whatever he did.

you always said that watching jamal play was a privilege and that it was an experience like no other, and were filled with pride knowing that you got to experience it first hand. however, your pride was mixed with annoyance today as you noticed hannah, one of the new physio interns, being a bit too enthusiastic every time he did something impressive.

you noticed how she would stand a bit closer to him than everyone else, giving him pats on the back, high fives, and once, even a playful shove. your annoyance grew with each interaction and you tried to brush it off, but it was hard when hannah was hovering over jamal like a bee around honey.

perhaps she was the main reason you showed up to practice... for the past two weeks jamal had mentioned her a few times, saying that she was so helpful and always offered to help when he needed. to you it was obvious what her objective was, but your boyfriend was oblivious. so instead of calling it out, you decided to see her in action.

with your jaw clenched you sat back in your seat, your attention on the girl who was well aware of your presence and who you were. she even had the gull to smile at you, but there was nothing genuine about it or her competitive glare.

eventually, jamal jogged up to you, his face glowing in excitement. "baby! did you see that last goal?"

the annoyance still evident in your demeanor, you forced a smile with your arms crossed. "yeah, you're doing amazing, sweetheart."

jamal wasn't an idiot, he noticed your tense posture and uninterested look immediately. he leant over on the barricade to get closer to you, a look of worry on his face. "is everything okay? wh--"

he was abruptly cut off by the call of his name. an annoyed groan left his lips at his coach calling him over but he made sure to reassure you that he'd be back. you couldn't suppress the smile tugging at your lips and nodded, watching as he hurried over to his coach, once again leaving you alone.

it wasn't long before that empty presence was filled by none other than hannah herself. she leisurely made her way over to the barricade near you but didn't say anything, instead her attention was on jamal. you couldn't help but look at the back of her head in confusion, wondering what she was trying to do.

eventually, she turned to look at you, her smile in place but her eyes evaluating every inch of you. "hi, I'm hannah. you must be jamal's friend."

it took every single nerve and muscle in your body to stop you from jumping over the barricade and gauging her eyes out. she knew what she was doing, and at some point that annoyance died down and was replaced with shock. you wondered where the hell she got the audacity from to be so blatantly idiotic.

you poked your tongue into the corner of your cheek and nodded. "girlfriend. I'm his girlfriend."

with that, she didn't say anything and just laughed. what the hell was she laughing for??the two of you held your gazes, but all you could think of was how she thought this was a competition. you couldn't blame her for her little crush on jamal, it was understandable. but it was the fact that she thought that she had even a slight chance.

bless him for not having any idea that she was hitting on him. it genuinely made you feel better, knowing that he couldn't care less but this girl was stubborn by the look in her eyes. but she didn't know who you were— not in the slightest and you were more than open to watch her shoot her shot.

you wanted to see how far she could get, but you knew that jamal only had eyes for you. he was yours. and you planned on having it that way for the rest of your lives.

when jamal came back, you didn't even spare him a glance and instead watched how hannah's eyes lit up as he got closer. she straighted her posture and fixed her hair, causing your lips to part in shock.

jamal glanced between the two of you with a sweet smile. "I see the two of you have met." his attention turned to you immediately, your look of utter shock causing him to worry but he couldn't even address it because hannah decided that she had the right to speak.

you remained silent and watched the exchange between the two of them carefully, mentally urging her to test her limits.

"you know if you ever need someone to help you cool down after practice, I'm available. I could use the extra practice anyway."

oh, so she wasn't embarrassed at all? her lack of shame had your mind running in circles and you wanted to laugh so badly. all you did was lightly scoff, a smirk on your lips. "he's got me for that."

hannah looked to you with a challenging gaze which you happily returned, the smile not leaving your lips. this was pure entertainment right here.

"yeah but seeing as I'm an actual physio, I know more when it comes to that," hannah said with the fakes laugh you'd ever heard. you wanted to wipe that smug smile off her face and bury her six feet under.

from the corner of your eye you noticed jamal's more than confused look but brushed him off. "and seeing that I'm his actual girlfriend, I know just how to help him relax."

jamal quickly interjected when he sensed the tension, knowing just how far you were willing to take this. "thanks hannah, but I think my girlfriend has it covered."

hannah shrugged, her eyes lingering on jamal. "well, the offer still stands." she smiled and sent you one final look. "it was lovely meeting you."

there was a boastful smile on your face as you waved her off, the annoyance slowly dripping away the further away she got. just how you liked it.

when she was gone, jamal looked to you, trying to stifle his laugh. "is that why you were upset earlier, hm?"

you shrugged, eyes darting over to hannah who was gathering equipment nearby. "just wondering how often your intern friend gets all handsy during practice."

with a teasing smile jamal rested his head on his arms, eyeing you up and down. he loved how overprotective you were over him, it made him feel special. "hannah, is just really enthusiastic about her job."

"enthusiastic, huh?" you mimicked, voice dripping in sarcasm.

jamal decided to play along for the fun of it. "yeah, she's like a cheerleader, always there to boost morale. she even asked if I needed a personal watter bottle carrier."

your jaw ticked. "did she now?"

"yep. and she said that I have the 'perfect shoulders for pats'. very specific compliment, don't you think?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to contain your jealousy and got up from your seat to stand against the barrier to be closer to your boyfriend. "she does realise that you're my boyfriend right?" you pointed towards yourself and jamal smiled. "you're mine. nobody else's."

a scoff left your lips. "the audacity."

jamal couldn't contain his laughter anymore and reached over to pull you closer to him, his hand resting on your cheek as he looked into your eyes with a softened gaze. "you're adorable when you're jealous, you know that?"

instinctively, you melted at his touch. "just wait until I'm burying her body then."

with that, he laughed again and kissed your cheek. "I only care about your shoulder pats, baby."

your annoyance melted away once again and you looked up at him with a pout. "really?"

he grinned and nodded. "absolutely. you're the only cheerleader I want. nobody else."

with that, you got up on your tippy toes and gave him a short but meaningful kiss on the lips, squishing his cheeks when you pulled away. "yes, because you're mine. are you mine?"

jamal couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks and simply nodded, an excited chuckle leaving his lips and you could swear that he was jumping in place. "nobody else's. just yours, love."

[n0vazsq]

Every glance | Jamal Musiala x Reader

pairing . . . jamal musiala x dortmund!academy!player!reader

summary . . . Ever since you met each other, you and Jamal become rivals. It was bound to be; Dortmund's golden girl and Bayern's star boy. But as the weeks pass, you rivalry blurs into something more, the tension increasing more than ever. And before you knew it, you two were confessing to each other in the bleachers

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 4.7k+

warnings . . . shit ton of tension, slowburn and rivalry but romance too!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . didnt proof read this but who cares!!!!! i hope this mad sense bc ilike idk i wasnt entirely paying attention when writing this. I HOPE YOU LIKE I EVE!!!!! as you can asee i YAPPED. my longest fic ever omg anyhow yeah the smau grind will be here soon!!

. . . The annual interschool sports tournament wasn’t just a competition; it was a battlefield. A week long war of football, academics, and extracurriculars that tested every student’s strength.

For your high school, it meant putting their trust in you, their star midfielder. Your name was associated with victory; the pride of your school, the one who never cracked under pressure, Dortmund Academy's golden girl.

This year, though, was different. Bayern Academy, Dortmund’s biggest rival, had brought their star boy, Jamal Musiala, into the pitch.

Jamal Musiala, the name everyone seemed to drool about. He wasn’t just good; he was annoyingly perfect. Flawless footwork, an effortless smile, and that annoyingly calm composure.

It was as if the universe had handcrafted him to be your nemesis. You’d only seen clips of him online, but even through a screen, he made your nerves crawl. Now he was here, in the flesh, and he was already stealing the spotlight.

The opening ceremony was full with energy as schools from all over the country gathered in the massive sports complex. You stood with your team, donning Dortmund’s signature yellow and black, as the Bayern squad entered.

They moved as a unit, their red jackets gleaming under the lights. At the center of their group was Jamal, his gaze scanning the room like he owned it.

And then, as if the universe demanded it, his eyes locked on yours.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, the kind that made your blood boil.

"Is that Musiala?" Ida, your teammate, whispered beside you.

"Yeah," you muttered, forcing yourself to look away before your irritation became too obvious. "Doesn’t look like much."

"He’s supposed to be amazing," she said, clearly impressed.

"We’ll see about that," you replied, though your words felt more like a promise to yourself.

The first day of matches solidified what you’d feared; Jamal was as good as everyone said. Bayern’s game was a masterclass, and he was its centerpiece.

Every touch of the ball exuded cheers, every pass seemed calculated, and his goa, a curling shot from outside the box, was met with loud applause. You hated how your chest tightened watching him, not with admiration but with the burning desire to prove you could do better.

When it was your team’s turn to play, you poured every ounce of frustration into the game. You commanded the midfield, intercepting passes and setting up plays with precision.

When you scored, a long range strike that shook the net, you allowed yourself a flicker of satisfaction, knowing Jamal was watching from the sidelines.

But as the match ended, you glanced toward Bayern’s bench. Jamal’s eyes were on you, and when he caught you looking, he gave a slow, deliberate clap. It wasn’t the sarcastic kind, it was worse. Genuine. The kind that almost felt like a challenge.

Later that evening, during a skills challenge, your rivalry came to life.

Players from all schools were testing their dribbling, shooting, and agility. You signed up without hesitation, eager to show your worth. As you approached the dribbling course, you caught sight of Jamal standing nearby, arms crossed and smirking.

"Good luck," he said, his voice smooth and maddeningly calm.

"I don’t need it," you shot back. "Watch and learn."

You tackled the course with striking precision, weaving through cones and finishing with a shot that hit the top corner of the net. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears as you walked off, head held high.

But Jamal was next, and his performance was… flawless. Effortless. Annoying. When he broke your time record, he walked past you, grinning.

"Anything you can do, I can do better," he said.

"Keep dreaming," you snapped, glaring at him.

From that moment, the rivalry consumed you. Every match, every skill test, every interaction became a battle. You pushed yourself harder, determined to outshine him, and he matched you step for step.

The sight of him alone was enough to ruin your day. He didn’t even have to say anything; his presence carried this unbearable arrogance, like he owned the air you breathed.

Every time he walked into a room, that stupid smirk of his plastered across his face, you could feel your patience thinning. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he went out of his way to find you, just so he could look at you like you were beneath him.

It wasn’t just the way he spoke, all smug and self assured, but the way he looked at you; like you were a puzzle he’d already solved and thrown away. The kind of look that made your skin crawl and your hands clench into fists.

You didn’t need his pity, his judgment, or whatever game he thought he was playing. He was your rival, nothing more. And yet, there was something about him, about the way he lingered just long enough to get under your skin, that made it impossible to ignore him.

There was a storm in every conversation you had with him, a brewing tornado in every exchange of words. No matter how civil you tried to be, it always ended with raised voices and sharp stares, each of you unwilling to back down.

If you called him insufferable, he called you predictable. If you accused him of being self absorbed, he’d laugh and say you were obsessed with him. It was infuriating. It was exhausting. And yet, some part of you almost welcomed it, the way sparring with him made you feel so alive.

It wasn’t enough for him to win; he had to rub it in, too. Every goal he scored, every point he earned, he made sure you knew it. He didn’t gloat outright, no, that would’ve been too obvious.

Instead, he’d give you this infuriating little glance, like you were in on some private joke. As if to say, See? You’re no match for me. It made your blood boil every single time.

You’d thought you could avoid him outside of matches, but somehow, he was everywhere.

At the library, leaning against a shelf with that annoying air of ease. At the cafeteria, stealing your favorite spot by the window. Even in the hallway, you could feel his gaze on you, like a weight you couldn’t shake.

It was like the universe was conspiring to throw you together, just to see which one of you would snap first.

But the tension between you wasn’t just competitive, it was electric.

You hated to admit it, but there were moments, brief and unwelcome, where you couldn’t help but notice things about him.

The way his brows furrowed in concentration, how his shoulders relaxed after a perfect play, or the rare laugh that escaped when one of his teammates made a joke.

And then there were the stolen glances, quick, almost unnoticeable moments when you’d catch his eye and immediately look away, heat rising to your cheeks.

It didn’t help that he seemed to notice.

"What is going on with you and Musiala?" Ida asked after a game. "You’re like magnets… but an angry bad kind."

"He’s just… infuriating," you muttered. "Thinks he’s better than everyone."

"Maybe he is better," she teased, grinning when you scowled. "Relax, I’m kidding. But honestly? I’ve never seen you this fired up."

"He brings out the worst in me," you said, though deep down, you weren’t sure if that was entirely true. Yes, he infuriated you, but he also pushed you to be better. The rivalry was exhausting, but it was also exhilarating.

One afternoon, during a rare break, you sat alone in the cafeteria, replaying the week’s events in your mind. You didn’t notice Jamal until he sat across from you, sliding his tray onto the table.

"Do you mind?" he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Eating," he said, biting into an apple. "Relax, I’m not here to fight you. Yet."

"Gee, thanks," you replied, dripping with sarcasm. "Coming from you, that means so much."

He laughed, unbothered. "You’re not bad, you know," he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Don’t talk down to me, Musiala," you shot back, leaning forward slightly. "I don’t need your validation."

He smirked, his eyes holding yours longer than you expected. "I’m just saying, it’s fun having someone who can keep up."

The words lingered longer than they should have, stirring something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The week continued, each interaction only adding to the storm brewing between you. During a trivia night, you were forced onto the same team by random selection. Every whispered argument, every accidental brush of hands as you reached for the answer sheet, set your nerves on edge.

When your team won, Jamal leaned close, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

"Don’t get used to it," you muttered, though your heart raced at the closeness.

By the time the tournament neared its end, the tension between you and Jamal had reached a heated point. Every interaction was lit with unspoken words, every glance lingered just a second too long.

It wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about proving something to each other, though you weren’t sure what. it was no longer about school pride or trophies.

It was personal. And neither of you was ready to admit how deep it ran.

After a particularly heated game, where both your teams had narrowly secured victories, Jamal caught up with you as you headed off the field.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he said, falling into step beside you.

"Don’t tell me you’re just figuring that out," you replied, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

"No," he said, his tone unusually serious. "I’ve known it from the start."

You glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, the rivalry fell away, leaving only two people who understood each other in a way no one else could. But just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Jamal’s smirk returned, and he nodded toward the exit.

"See you in the finals," he said, his voice light again.

"You’d better bring your A game," you called after him, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine.

The finals were looming, and with them, the promise of one last battle. But somewhere amidst the rivalry, something deeper was starting to take place.

Neither of you was ready to admit it, but the lines between competition and connection were beginning to blur.

The finals came faster than you anticipated. One moment, you were preparing, training with everything you had, and the next, you were standing at the threshold of the biggest match of your life.

The weight of the competition, the constant back and forth with Jamal, the pressure to perform; it all sat heavy on your shoulders. But in the chaos, in the swirl of anticipation and adrenaline, what lingered in your mind wasn’t the game, the plays, or even the cheers of the crowd.

It was Jamal.

Every interaction, every glance, every smirk, every perfectly timed subtle teasing left its mark on you. It wasn’t even the words themselves, no, it was the way his presence seemed to stir something in you that you couldn’t put a name to.

The rivalry, intense and sharp, had gradually started to feel like something else. Something more.

And yet, you didn’t want to admit it. How could you? Jamal had always been your rival. The one person you couldn't beat, the one you always wanted to outdo.

But now, when you really thought about it, the competition felt…different. You had stopped seeing him as merely an opponent. Somewhere, between the victories and defeats, he had become something else entirely, someone else.

The finals arrived, and the game was everything you expected it to be. Intense, fast paced, each team clawing for every inch of ground, every goal, every point. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on you as the final seconds ticked down.

Your team pulled through, victorious, the trophy now gleaming in your hands as your teammates crowded around, lifting you up in celebration. Cheers and excitement filled the air, but your eyes instinctively sought him out.

And there he was, standing off to the side, his figure sharp against the blur of victory. His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade.

His face was unreadable, a blank canvas, but his eyes; there was something in them. Something dark and intense, something you couldn’t quite decipher. The air between you crackled with a tension you hadn’t expected to feel.

You wanted to look away, to return to the celebration, but you couldn’t. And when he broke the gaze, turning away without a word, you couldn’t help but feel the faintest sting of disappointment.

Later, when the stadium emptied out and the noise faded into quiet, you found yourself walking the halls alone. The adrenaline from the win still pulsed in your veins, but so did something else.

It gnawed at you, lingering in the back of your mind. Without meaning to, your feet carried you toward the bleachers, where you found him sitting alone, his head tilted back as he stared up at the sky.

"You know, you’re supposed to sulk after a loss," you said, the words almost automatic as you approached.

He didn’t look at you right away, but when he did, there was that smirk. The one that made everything inside you tighten. "And you’re supposed to celebrate after a win," he replied, his voice smooth, teasing.

You climbed the steps and sat beside him, your heart hammering in your chest. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, not exactly. But it wasn’t comfortable either.

It was loaded, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, everything that neither of you was brave enough to voice. The space between you felt like an abyss, but you didn’t know whether you wanted to close it or leave it as it was.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. "You played well today," he said quietly.

"I know," you replied, your voice lacking its usual sharpness. You didn’t have the energy for the usual banter, not now. Not with him.

His gaze softened, just a fraction. “You’re a tough, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, unguarded sound that surprised you both. "Coming from you? I’ll take that as a compliment."

He smiled, the cocky edge in his expression blunted, replaced by something far more… uncertain. Hesitant, almost. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you wondered, for the briefest of seconds, if he was seeing something you hadn’t noticed before.

"You really are something," he added, his tone softer now, less mocking. It wasn’t quite a compliment, but it wasn’t far from one.

The conversation rambled after that, going onto topics without really settling on any one thing. The tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling at both of you, never quite severed.

There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he looked at you, the way he saw you; not just as a rival but as an equal. And somehow, that made everything more complicated.

The weeks that followed were a blur of practices, interviews, and games, each day blending into the next. But Jamal was never far from your thoughts.

You couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

The rivalry, at first so intense, had grown into something far deeper. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the words you didn’t say.

Every time you crossed paths, the air between you seemed to thrum with energy. Every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged, as if the tension was simmering just below the surface, ready to explode.

Then one day, it happened. You found him waiting for you outside the locker room after a particularly tough game. His back was pressed against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He was studying you, as if waiting for something.

"You just can’t stay away, can you?" you teased, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the small shift in his expression, the way his eyes darkened just a fraction.

"I could say the same about you," he shot back, his voice low and deliberate.

There it was again. That crackling energy between you, pulling you in. You swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to take a step back, but your feet were rooted to the ground. His gaze never wavered, and you felt a heat creep up your neck.

"Why do you always have to make everything a competition?" you asked, though you knew the answer before he even spoke.

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. The distance between you closed, leaving you acutely aware of every detail; the faint scent of his cologne, the way his eyes glinted in the dim light.

His words were low, almost intimate. "Because you make me want to be better. And I think I do the same for you."

You hated that he was right. Hated how easily he saw through you. You hated that you couldn’t look away, couldn’t even bring yourself to fight back.

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, but your words lacked the bite they usually had. It felt more like a feeble attempt to cover up something else, something deeper.

He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "And you love it."

You should have argued, should have pushed him away. But instead, you stood there, frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening, but you couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was changing. Slowly. Relentlessly.

The realization hit you in a moment of silence, one that caught you completely off guard. You had gone to watch one of his games, just to pass the time, to distract yourself from the constant pull between you. But as you watched him on the field, it hit you like a train.

It wasn’t just the way he played, it was the way you felt when you watched him. There was admiration there, sure. But it was more than that. It was something deeper, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge.

When he scored the winning goal and looked up, his eyes scanning the stands before landing on you, everything inside you froze. The crowd was deafening, but all you could hear was the rush of your own blood in your ears. He knew you were there.

And when his eyes locked with yours, it wasn’t just a brief glance. It was something intentional, something deliberate. It made your heart race, and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were proud or…something else.

That night, as you lay awake in your bed, the weight of everything pressed in on you. The rivalry, the competition, the slow, inevitable shift that had taken place between you and Jamal. You didn’t know what it was or where it was heading, but one thing was clear; it was no longer just a game.

It was something much more dangerous.

The next time you saw him, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. Neither of you could pretend anymore. Every glance, every word, every touch seemed to linger just a little longer than it should. The line between competition and connection had blurred, leaving you both on the edge of something you couldn’t name. Something neither of you was brave enough to confront.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to win… or lose.

The tension between you and Jamal had grown unbearable. Every glance, every word, every charged moment felt like a string being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap. And when it did, it was bound to be explosive.

It happened on a rainy Friday evening. You’d just wrapped up a practice session, the field slippery with mud and your teammates’ laughter echoing in the distance. You thought you were alone until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Can’t stay away, can you?" Jamal’s voice was unmistakable, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned to find him standing there, his hair damp from the drizzle, his expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer.

"Watching and learning," he said, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. But his eyes held something deeper, something that made your breath catch.

"Funny," you replied, rolling your eyes. "You could use the practice."

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm despite the cold rain. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are," you shot back, crossing your arms.

He stepped closer, and suddenly the air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you could ignore. The teasing, the rivalry, the constant push and pull; it all seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the rain.

"Why do we do this?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"Do what?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

"This," he said, gesturing between you. "The arguing, the competition, the… pretending."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. "I don’t know," you admitted. "Maybe it’s easier that way."

"Easier," he repeated, as if testing the word. Then he shook his head. "It’s not easier. It’s torture."

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. This wasn’t the confident, cocky Jamal you were used to. This was someone raw, someone honest.

"Jamal…" you started, but he cut you off.

"I can’t do this anymore," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care, like you don’t drive me absolutely insane in the best and worst ways."

You stared at him, your mind racing. Part of you wanted to run, to go back into the safety of your rivalry and banter. But another part, the part that had been growing bigger with each passing day, wanted to stay.

"You’re not the only one," you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took another step closer, so close now that you could see the drops of rain clinging to his lashes. "Then stop fighting it," he said, his voice almost pleading.

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But then he reached out, his hand brushing yours, and all the walls you’d built came crashing down.

The kiss was unavoidable, as much a peak as it was a beginning. His lips were warm despite the cold rain, his touch firm but gentle. It was everything you’d both been denying, all the tension and frustration melting away into something softer, something real.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours, a small, disbelieving smile on his lips.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Probably as long as I have," you replied, your voice shaky but light.

The rain continued to fall, but neither of you moved. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the newfound understanding between you.

From that moment on, everything changed. The rivalry didn’t disappear, but it softened, became something playful rather than competitive. You still challenged each other, still pushed each other to be better.

But now, there was something more. The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you; it all added up to something you couldn’t ignore.

You found yourself craving his presence, his voice, his laugh. And he felt the same. The time you spent apart felt like an eternity, and when you were together, it was never enough.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship had become the foundation of something much deeper, something that neither of you could deny.

One night, as you lay together under the stars, he turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this isn’t going to be easy," he said.

"I know," you replied.

"But it’s worth it," he said, his voice firm.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "It’s always been worth it."

And for the first time, you both let yourselves believe it.

The connection between you and Jamal had become an unstoppable force. No matter how much time you spent together, it was never enough. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime, and the longing grew unbearable. It wasn’t just desire; it was a need, an aching pull that neither of you could resist.

It started small, a text here, a call there. But soon, it spiraled into something neither of you could control. Late night phone calls that stretched until dawn, whispered confessions that left you both breathless.

Even when you were apart, you were never really alone; your thoughts were consumed by him, and you knew it was the same for him.

One evening, after an exhausting match, you collapsed onto your bed, exhausted but restless. Your phone buzzed, and you didn’t even need to check the screen to know who it was.

Are you awake?

You smiled, your fingers gliding across the screen.

Always for you.

A moment later, his name lit up your screen. You answered without hesitation.

"I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low and filled with longing. "It’s driving me crazy."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Join the club," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re all I think about, Jamal."

There was a pause, and you could hear his breathing, steady but heavy. "I hate this," he said finally. "I hate being away from you."

"Then don’t be," you whispered, your words bold but honest. "Come over."

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Less than an hour later, he was at your door, his hair tousled and his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

You barely had time to step aside before he was pulling you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate.

"I can’t do this anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I need you. All the time. Every second of every day."

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands cupping his face. "I need you too," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I don’t know how to be without you anymore."

He smiled then, a soft, disbelieving smile that made your heart ache. "Good," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not letting you go."

From that moment on, the walls between you crumbled completely. There was no more acting, no more hiding. You were his, and he was yours, and nothing else mattered. You spent every possible moment together, your lives intertwined in ways you’d never thought possible.

He started showing up at your matches, cheering louder than anyone else. You did the same for him, your voice hoarse and non existent by the end of his games.

When you weren’t on the pitch, you were together, whether it was curled up on the couch, wandering the city hand in hand, or simply lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship was still there, but it had transformed into something playful, something that pushed you both to be better. You still challenged each other, still teased and competed, but now it was with a smile and a kiss waiting at the end.

One night, as you lay tangled together under a blanket of stars, Jamal turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this is it, right?" he said, his voice soft but steady. "You and me. There’s no going back."

You nodded, your heart swelling. "I wouldn’t want to," you said.

He smiled, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Good," he said. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

And neither were you. For the first time, you both let yourselves believe in forever, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[thewosoway]

Georgia stanway masterlist

On my 18th birthday

[pitchsidestories]

met someone II Lena Oberdorf x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1452

a/n: dear readers, the poll chose Lena Oberdorf for this oneshot, we hope you're enjoying it. 💖💖

“Lena?”, Lea sounded surprised.

“Lea, this bar sucks!”, the dark-haired woman yelled into her phone

“But that’s there all the hot lesbians are according to Georgia.”, the blonde frowned.

“Georgia is wrong. The thing is full of straight women.”, she observed with growing frustration as a group of them was laughing hysterically about a joke one of the girls had made.

“Wait, but it’s a gay bar are they all celebrating their bachelorette parties?”, the forward asked confused.

“I don’t care what they do here but they’re all here. I think I’ll go home.”, Lena replied grumpily.

To lighten up her best friend’s terrible mood the blonde suggested. “Tomorrow at my place? I’ll cook a lot of hot chocolate and then we’ll watch a stupid romcom?”

“Didn’t you do that today already?”, the brunette teased the older player.

“Uhmm.”, Lea responded awkwardly.

“I know you.”, Lena stated chuckling.

“Well, I can do it two times in a row if you don’t tell our coach.”, she answered sheepishly.

“Okay, I won’t tell him if you don’t tell him that I’m out at a bar.”, the younger footballer offered grinning.

“We’ve a deal. See you tomorrow night!”, Lea chirmed.

“Bye.”, the brunette ended the phone call. Her dark eyes wandering one last time through her surroundings. The bar had its charm, she could admit that. It had a fading elegance to it like an old diva where you could tell that the woman once was a great beauty, something with a lot of history.

The barkeeper had mentioned to her that back in the 1980s Freddie Mercury was a reoccurring guest. Probably it was a bit more colourful back in the day.

For a second Lena tried to imagine how it would’ve looked like when the British rockstar was still alive but when her eyes locked with yours and all she could think about was you. Why hasn’t the football player noticed you before?

“Uhmm hi.”, the brunette greeted you nervously.

“Hey.”, you bit your lip.

“I’m Lena.”, the stranger introduced herself. Her smile was infectious, it immediately calmed you and made you feel less awkward than you’d usually feel in front of a person you just met.

You told her your name and when added. “You’re alone here too?  There’s a lot of groups tonight?”

Lonely hearts recognized each other you thought to yourself. Especially in a crowded room where people who came alone were rare.

“Yeah, I was about to go home. But then I saw you and I thought.. I could at least try and shoot my shot.”, Lena winked.

“That’s funny because I was about to leave too until I saw you.”, you confessed without hesitation in your voice.

A smile spread across Lenas face: “Oh really? Looks like this was meant to be.“

You chuckled in response, teasing her: “Are you a romantic, Lena?”

“Not really.“, she shook her head, her smile unwavering.

“So you don’t believe in love at the first sight?”, you asked.

She tilted her head slightly: “I believe in attraction at the first sight.“

You could barely tear your eyes away from that smirk, confident and cool.

“Me too.“

Lena pointed back towards the entrance of the bar and suggested: “Maybe we should stay for another drink?”

You nodded quickly: “Yes.“

Unsurprisingly, the bar was still crowded when the two of you went back inside. Lena led you right towards the counter to two empty bar stools. She had already ordered drinks while you sat down.

“Come on, it’s on me.“, she grinned as she pushed one of the glasses towards you.

You smiled politely at her: “Thank you.“

“You’re welcome.“

You sipped on your drink. Despite its dangerously clear look, you could barely taste the alcohol.

“So, what got you here tonight?”, you asked.

“I moved here a couple of months ago. I guess I’m just looking for someone…“, Lena admitted willingly.

It was more than understandable.

“A big city like Munich can get lonely…“, you mused, absentmindedly swirling the liquid in your glass.

Observing you, she raised an eyebrow: “Speaking from experience?”

“I do…“, you replied but quickly frowned at yourself. That sounded all wrong, you weren’t lonely. “I mean I love my friends…“

“But a romantic relationship is different. I get that.“, Lena completed your thought.

You paused for a moment, not because her interruption felt invasive, but because you felt an immediate connection.

“It is.“

“I feel the same way about that.“, Lena agreed.

You lifted your glass and clinked it against hers: “Cheers to the Lonely Hearts Club.“

Lena laughed: “Who knows. Maybe we’re at the right place at the right time and won’t be part of that club for much longer.“

Your heart skipped a beat, swelling with hope that this could be more than just a last-minute flirt at a bar but your forced it to calm down.

“Do you want to go for a walk after this?”, you asked, once your heart had started pumping blood to your brain again.

Lena checked the clock on her phone and nodded: “Sure.“

“Perfect.“

Both of your glasses emptied quickly.

“Ready to leave?”

“Yes, I’m ready.“, you said as you got up.

“Let’s go.“

Lena followed you outside where you both were met with the chilly breeze of the late night.

Side by side, you started walking against the cold. Streetlights illuminated the sidewalk just enough. You watched the shadows dance across Lenas face as you walked to nowhere in particular.

“Do you like living in the city so far?”

“I do. I expected the move to be harder but.. I like it.”, she admitted. You could tell that the young woman meant it. Immediately you asked yourself where Lena had lived before. Possibly somewhere smaller and calmer.

The brunette glanced at you with curiosity. “What about you? Have you lived here for a long time?”

“Yes, I moved here for university. It felt very freeing.”, a shy smile played on your lips as you spoke.

“I can see that.”, she observed in a friendly tone.

“In Munich you can be yourself.”, you added meaningfully.

A moment of realization hit the dark-haired woman unexpectedly. “You came out here, huh?”, Lena recognized.

“I did.”, you nodded. Pictures of the past were flashing behind your eyes. The small Bavarian village you grew up in, the catholic church being the centre of everyday life and gay people were basically non-existent. When you came to Munich it felt like you were able to breathe normally for the first time in forever.

“I think I understand why this city means so much to you.”, the brunette replied.

“You were out before moving?”, you asked her although it was more an observation than a question.

“Yes, for a while. I’m a football player so everyone is very open about it.”, Lena explained blushing.

“Ah a football player.”, you smiled at her mildly.

“Oh. You don’t sound impressed.”, she stated sounding almost a bit disappointed. But from the inside the midfielder felt relived too as sometimes the only thing women found interesting about her was her job.

The Lena off the pitch didn’t interest them at all, the one who loved her friends and family fearlessly, who liked to have fun, party a little and who wanted to take care of a dog again, but knew she wouldn’t have enough time without a partner to help her.

“No, I was just wondering why your arms are so impressive.”, you countered grinning, your fingers intertwined as you kept walking.

“You’re impressed by my arms? You should see my thighs.”, she smirked.

“Can’t see them through those trousers.”, you continued the banter making the woman you felt attracted to break into a warm and loud laughter.

“Sorry that joke went a bit far for a first meeting.”, Lena biting her full lips apologetically.

“A little but I’m already liking what I can see.”, you responded truthfully.

“Oh, you do?”, the football player raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, too much honesty?”, you chuckled.

“No, I like honesty.”, she replied earnestly.

“Same. So, what if I’d like to see you again?”, you questioned bravely, your heart pounding hard against your chest.

“How about tomorrow?” That ask sounded like music to both of your ears. Like this night might came to an end but it was only the beginning for you two.

The following day Lea exclaimed surprised. “Wait, you’re bringing a plus one to our movie night?!”

“Either that or I have to cancel. And you won’t forgive me for that.”, Lena said smiling.

“Okay, you can bring her.”, the striker sighed dramatically.

“You won’t regret it.”, the brunette promised wholeheartedly. Lena got butterflies in her stomach as she thought about you.

[meazalykov]

crashout

parentalfigure!pernille harder x parentalfigure!magdalena erikkson x f!reader

warnings: swearing. mutual aggression with reader and opponent player. reader is intended to be between 17-20 years old. platonic fic!!!

sprinting across the pitch, the mia san mia in the crowd blasts into your ears, the 24/25 red kit sticks to your skin as sweat beads down your forehead. the red feels like a second skin at this point, a far cry from the blue you wore just over a season ago at chelsea. 

london is a memory now… you’d packed your bags and traded it for munich’s crisp air before pernille made her own move herself. you beat her here by a year, a decision that felt right even if it meant leaving behind the familiarity of everything. 

pernille’s been your anchor through it all. she’s more than a teammate…she’s the closest thing you’ve got to family or a parent figure. growing up, you didn’t have much of that. neglect left its mark, hollowed out spaces where parents should’ve been, and it’s shaped you in ways you don’t always like to admit. 

emotionally, you’re a bit of a mess. you seem quick to flare, slow to settle. however, pernille’s steady. she’s got this quiet strength, a way of looking at you that makes you feel seen without being judged. you call her your parental figure, and she’s never shied away from the role. 

also there’s magda, her partner, who’s just as much a part of your life now. you live next door to them in a cozy munich suburb, and magda’s warmth with her dry humor and gentle nudges has earned her a spot as another motherly presence. 

still, it’s pernille you’re tighter with, the one you turn to when the world feels like it is too much.

every night, you’re at their place and having dinner together is an every evening occurance with pernille stirring something on the stove, magda setting the table, you sprawled on their couch like it’s your own. they’ve built a home around you, filled the gaps your childhood left behind.

today, it’s not about quiet evenings or shared meals. it’s wolfsburg, a match that’s got your pulse hammering from the first whistle. 

hours before the stakes were high and the tackles were brutal. bayern was losing 1-0 and you were already on edge, frustration simmering beneath your skin. sometime right after the second half, lynn from wolfsburg catches you with a late challenge. 

you stumble, boots skidding, and whip around to face her. she mutters something under her breath…the dutch word for stupid slicing through the noise. 

you’re not fluent, but you’ve picked up enough from teammates and travels to know exactly what she said.

you knew she called you stupid from the look on her face. the dam breaks in that same moment. you storm toward her, chest heaving, and unleash a barrage of curses…english, german, a chaotic mix of whatever spills out in the heat of the moment. 

your voice is sharp, venomous, cutting through the damp air as you close the distance between you. lynn’s eyes flash with surprise, then defiance, but before she can snap back, the pitch explodes into chaos. 

teammates and opponents swarm in, shouts overlapping as hands from pernille and glodis grab at your arms, and your shoulders pulling you away. you’re still yelling, words tumbling out in a furious blur, when pernille’s voice cuts through like a blade. 

“stop it, right now!” she says, her grip on your elbow unyielding. pernille’s tone’s not loud, but it’s heavy, serious in a way that makes your stomach twist. you shake your head, muttering under your breath, and wrench yourself free, stalking back to your position. 

the ref’s already got the yellow card out, waving it in your face. you barely glance at it. 

whatever.

the whistle blows later, and luckily you guys won 2-1 but you’re still pissed, pacing the locker room, boots scuffing the floor as you replay the clash in your head. pernille catches your eye across the room, her expression unreadable. 

“we’ll talk at home,” she says simply, and you didn’t argue. 

you know it’s coming.

many hours later, you’re still slouched on their couch, the familiar scent of magda’s cooking lingering in the air even though dinner’s long over. magda’s beside you, her presence a quiet comfort, her knee brushing yours as she scrolls through her phone. 

pernille’s standing, arms crossed, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. she’s not mad, not exactly, but there’s a weight to her gaze that makes you shift uncomfortably. 

“why’d you get so upset out there y/n?” she asks, her voice calm but direct, like she’s peeling back layers to get at the truth.

you shrug, staring at the floor. 

“we were down 1-0. i was already pissed off. she was there, running her mouth. i had to let it out and put her in her place.” your words come out rough, still laced with that lingering heat.

pernille tilts her head, studying you. 

“it’s football,” she says. 

“things get heated. words get thrown around. but you don’t need to go off like that… cussing her out and somehow making it personal.” you scoff, rolling your eyes, the defiance bubbling up again. 

“she did it first and called me stupid.”

“she said it in dutch,” pernille points out, stepping closer. 

“she didn’t think you’d even understand. and since when do you know dutch anyway?” her brow arches, curious, but you dodge the question, jutting your chin out instead. 

“doesn’t matter. she meant it and i felt it.”

magda sets her phone down, her voice softer as she chimes in. 

“still doesn’t mean you have to match her fire with your own. you’re better than that.” you glance at her, her steady brown eyes meeting yours, and something in you softens, just a little. pernille nods, picking up the thread. 

“you’ve got to control it,” she says. 

“not every fight is worth picking. that yellow card is a warning. learn from it and don’t be stupid in the next game, yeah?”

you lean back, arms crossed, the tension still coiled tight in your chest. 

“lynn started it,” you mutter, stubborn. 

pernille sighs, crouching down so she’s at your level, her hands resting on her knees. 

“maybe she did but you took it further and you know that you did not need to. you’re stronger than that…on the pitch, off it. you’ve got us to lean on, you know that.”

the room goes quiet, the weight of her words settling over you. magda reaches over, squeezes your shoulder lightly. 

“we’ve all been there,” she says. 

“losing your head’s easy but keeping it’s the hard part.”

you exhale, long and slow, the fight draining out of you bit by bit. pernille’s right…magda too. 

you know it, even if it’s hard to swallow. 

“fine,” you say finally, voice low. 

“lesson learned. yes including the yellow card and all.”

pernille smiles, small but genuine, and straightens up. 

“good. we’re settled then.” she moves to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you feel her presence like a tether. magda nudges you with her elbow, a silent check-in, and you nod. 

the anger’s still there. it is a faint ember, but it’s fading. 

masterlist

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙱𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

description: In which Georgia Stanway and Leah Williamson’s younger sister are just best friends… right?

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part one of the best friends series

mapi part one here (hidden universe)

ona part one here (hidden universe)

georgia stanway x female williamson!reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying Georgia is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: honestly not many, a couple of swear words maybe? a mini make out sesh, angst, fluff and google translate german (sorry) xx

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y/n just posted

liked by stanwaygeorgia, lucybronze and 499, 244 others

tagged fcbfrauen, stanwaygeorgia and 12 others

y/n Baby England knows how to party ;)

see all 12, 333 comments

username1: she is ICONIC 😍😍

username2: THAT SECOND GOAL WAS UGHHH

Lj10: superstarrr 🌟🌟

^

y/n: was taking lessons off you ig

^

lucybronze: Naaaa it was me 😉

^

y/n: acc it was Keira and LJ 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

^

lucybronze: You're so lovely to me

^

y/n: 🩷🩷

username3: love the fact Bayern bought her and Georgia and went on to win the league!

fcbfrauen: ❤️❤️

^

y/n: ❤️❤️

username4: I wonder if she misses playing with Leah??

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username5: well they will be playing together in the WWC and England international games so idk

^

username6: besides, she might switch back to Arsenal as she only signed on for one season at Bayern!!

leahwilliamsonn: You missed ya first one!

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y/n: you miss every one

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leahwilliamsonn: come at me pipsqueak - if you can from that height!

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y/n: Say goodbye to your kneecaps !

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leahwilliamsonn: 💕

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y/n: 💕

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username7: HHAAHAHAHAH

stanwaygeorgia: she can't dance btw

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y/n: salty cause she lost just dance 😙

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stanwaygeorgia: TAKE IT BACK

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y/n: NO

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stanwaygeorgia: TAKE IT BACK!

^

username8: bestie goals right there

see more comments...

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y/n loved to party, that was so obvious to everyone who knew her. Especially when she felt it was as earned as they winning the league party felt the night before.

To win and beat Wolfsburg to that number one spot, to have automatic qualification for the next Champions League, it just felt right and normal for a party.

What also felt right, was her arm curled around y/n's waist, the feeling of her naked skin pressed into y/n's as she slept, trying to put off the hangover for as long as possible.

Best friends. They fuck when they get drunk yeah? Or when they're not drunk and just feel like it. They were best friends, and they needed to help each other out. It was normal.

It was not normal.

y/n knew as she crept from Georgia's room and into her own - considering they lived together - that what they were doing was not what best friends did.

y/n knew that best friends did not make such changing decisions as she did for Georgia, she knew that best friends were supposed to love each other, but not be in love with each other.

So why was she in love with Georgia?

y/n knew what would happen. Georgia would be up in half an hour, always coming too once y/n no longer held her, she would cook them breakfast, and ignore what had happened.

It killed y/n. It truly truly killed her. How could she just ignore everything they had done last night, every loving touch, every kiss, moan and climax.

But she did, and so would y/n. And in two weeks when it would happen again, y/n would be there, on her knees for her and crawling back like she always did.

They would go back to camp for the world cup, y/n's sister Leah would captain them and everyone would be oblivious to the fact y/n was drowning in Georgia.

y/n sighed, running a hand over her face and climbing into the shower, trying to wash the feel of Georgia's hands from her body. It didn't work.

Then she changed, pulling on some jeans and a shirt before grabbing her fanny pack, phone and head phones and pulling on her trainers, moving into the kitchen where Georgia stood making them coffee.

"Mornin'!" Georgia smiled.

"Coffee?" She asks, holding the cup up but y/n shakes her head.

"I'm going to meet up with Syd. Sorry G." y/n smiles, ignoring how her heart broke at Georgia's relaxed smile, not even mentioning the fact she was in y/n's shirt.

"Okay, when will you be back?" Georgia asks and y/n sucks in a deep breath as she shrugs.

"Dunno. Sydney said she'd help me revise." y/n explains as she picks up her tote back from the bag hook, her revision for her sports science degree inside.

"Oh, I can help!" Georgia smiles, knowing it was something she usually did.

"It's okay, Syd and I have got it." y/n smiles. "Have a nice day." She adds.

"Don't be home too late!" Georgia smiles as y/n rushed out the door, her house keys on the hook. "I love you." Georgia sighs sadly to the empty flat, before she sighs and leans over the counter.

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y/n just posted on her story x 2

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y/n and Sydney were laid out on the blonde's sofa, y/n having texted Georgia saying she would have dinner at Sydney's, unknowingly disappointing the light brunette back at their apartment, who had spent the day watching the door longingly as she tried to get chores done.

y/n and Sydney were watching a TV show y/n had begged Sydney to watch called Humans, the German saying she wouldn't like it but now being as obsessed as y/n was.

"Will you ever tell Georgia?" Sydney asked aloud, being the only person to know y/n's current dilemma as the two were very close.

"I don't know Syd." y/n sighed and Sydney sent her a look.

"Warum weißt du es nicht?" Sydney asked with a scoff.

Why don't you know?

"Because it is not that simple!" y/n chides, Sydney sending her a look which said say it in German. "Weil es nicht so einfach ist." y/n repeats and Sydney nods.

"Maybe not, but the way you both look at each other is clear." Sydney denies and y/n sighs.

"And how is that?" y/n asks with an eye roll and Sydney glares at her.

"Like you two are each other's reason for breathing." Sydney states and y/n snorts and shoves her.

"You Germans are so fucking poetic." y/n says before checking her phone and sighing. "I need to get home." She hums and Sydney rolls her eyes.

"No you need to avoid this conversation." She says as y/n grabs her bag.

"Huh, look at the time. Love you." y/n says, dragging out the 'you' as she gets to the door.

"Love you too." Sydney calls as y/n leaves. "Dummes Mädchen." She then mutters.

Stupid girl.

y/n slides her headphones on, happily walking the ten minutes back to her and Georgia's in the slowly setting spring German sun. She got to the door, sighing as she realised she didn't have her key.

y/n knocked on the door, straining her ears as she tried to hear Georgia's padding footsteps but didn't hear anything. y/n texted the girl, confused at her lack of response considering it was only 8:34 pm.

When she didn't reply, y/n called her twice both times the phone ringing out to voicemail as the phone was outside the shower which Georgia was currently in, trying to forget about the way y/n's lips felt.

y/n waited, for ten minutes outside their house, sighing as she slid against the door and called her sister instead, watching the phone ring out before the blonde picked up with a grin.

"Hey baby sis!" Leah grinned, smiling at her sister who grinned widely back.

"Hey Lee." y/n smiled, her head lent back against the door as she watched her sister's smiling face. "You look happy." y/n chuckles and Leah grins.

"Of course, I see you tomorrow!" Leah grins and y/n can't help but smile.

"I can't wait to see you either Lee." y/n smiles widely and her sister lets out a shriek as her body is pushed to the side.

"Baby Williamson!" A cheer echoes. Mary Earps pushing herself into frame.

The players who play in the WSL had gotten to camp two days ago, the women who play abroad all now waiting to join at camp after their later games.

That included, Keira, Lucy, who played at Barcelona and y/n and Georgia, who played at Bayern, all four having made it into the squad and all travelling over tomorrow.

"Mary! Hi!" y/n grins, Leah huffing as Mary snatches her phone away.

"I saw that off the line clearance from you yesterday, we'll make a keeper of you yet." Mary grins. y/n can't help but let out a laugh at that and someone calls Mary from off camera.

"Go on, go help whoever needs it." y/n laughs at the keeper who grins and presses a kiss to the camera.

"I'll see you soon!" Mary calls before handing the phone back to Leah and running off, Leah rolling her eyes as her sister chuckles.

"What are you doing?" Leah asks her sister who sighs.

"Forgot my key, so waiting for G to let me in the fucking flat." y/n groans and Leah chuckles, though she looks confused that the two weren't together. "I was at Sydney's." y/n explains.

"Oi oi." Leah grins, wiggling her brows and y/n glares at her.

"Shut up!" y/n laughs, knowing she and Sydney were just friends. y/n goes to say something but the door unlocks and y/n sighs in relief.

"You go and get packed missy." Leah says and y/n mockingly salutes. "I love you." Leah adds and y/n smiles.

"I love you too Lee." y/n smiles at her, before she hangs up and walks into the apartment, Georgia was stood awkwardly by the door, wet hair hanging over her shoulders.

"Sorry, I uh, was in the shower." Georgia apologises, and y/n shrugs as she sends her a small smile.

"It's okay, I should have remembered my keys." y/n nods. "I was on facetime to Leah anyway." y/n explains as she places her bag down.

"How was Sydney?" Georgia asks awkwardly as y/n walks into her room where her suitcase is half packed.

"Yeah great, we got through a lot." y/n smiles happily as she digs through her closet to find more clothes.

"Good, good." Georgia nods, awkwardly stood in the doorway of y/n's bedroom.

A silence settled across the two, and usually neither would mind that, because they could be in silence together but would like it, because they were together.

However, this silence was pregnant with awkwardness, tension thick in the room as Georgia watched as y/n continued packing, trying to avoid looking at her.

"Why won't ya look at me?" Georgia asks and y/n tense, sending a quick look at Georgia.

"I am, but I need to pack G." y/n says and Georgia scoffs.

"You ain't looking at me!" Georgia denies and y/n throws her trainers down as she turns and folds her arms, looking at Georgia.

Their eyes meet, holding their stares as they both watch each other for a moment before Georgia scoffs at the cold stare being held between them and turns and walks out.

y/n listens to her go and jumps when Georgia's door slams shut, her head dropping as she sighs and shuts her own door quietly, she then sits against her bed and falls back.

Love sucked.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n hadn't been able to sleep. She put her phone down nearly an hour ago at half eleven, but sleep hadn't been kind enough to save her from over-thinking.

She was on her side, back to the door, almost as if she was trying to forget that across the hall Georgia was probably asleep. Getting energy before flying tomorrow.

Slowly, there was a creak behind her and y/n stopped breathing, holding the air in her lungs as her door shut again and a body slid into bed behind her.

Georgia's arm slowly curled around her waist and y/n sighed, turning onto her other side so they could at least face one another. y/n couldn't see her, it was too dark.

But they both knew their eyes were open as they stared into the dark of the room. Georgia's hand was resting against the dip in y/n's waist, y/n's hand was close to Georgia's chest.

There was no sound other than the quiet breathing, the small breaths blowing in and out softly as they laid together. Slowly, Georgia's head moved, her breath now pushing against y/n cheek.

She stopped, lips just centimetres away as she gave y/n enough time to push her off, to shove her away. However, y/n's hand came up to slide up Georgia's chest and onto the back of the neck.

The moved in sync, lips colliding softly as the room suddenly filled with sound of smacking lips and breathy moans. y/n's hand tightening on the back of Georgia's neck, pulling her closer.

Georgia pushed up, leg swinging over y/n as her arms held her above her, lips never breaking as their tongues tangled together, tasting every section they could.

y/n sat up slightly, pulling Georgia closer to her as her other hand pushed at her back, mounting Georgia onto her lap as y/n's back hit the wall.

Georgia's hands slid around her shoulders, fingers playing with the baby hairs on the back of y/n's neck. y/n sighed into the kiss, knowing where it would lead as Georgia pulled away.

"We should get some sleep." Georgia says quietly, settling down into y/n's side.

y/n paused, shock running through her veins because a kiss like that always led to something more.

"Yeah, okay." y/n whispers, settling further into her pillow as she pulls Georgia closer, nose buried into her head as she inhaled Georgia's shampoo.

y/n's eyes quickly become heavy with sleep, Georgia's warmth and body weight pressing into her finally helping her brain shut off, and in the silence of the room, the two fell asleep embraced.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The next morning y/n woke up alone. Her phone blaring her alarm and as the two girls got ready for the day it was like another heartbreak to know they had slipped into their old routine.

She and Georgia joked like friends, not mentioning the night before as they shuffled out of their apartment and locked the door, Georgia letting out a shocked shout at the person waiting for them.

"Sydney!" y/n grins, rushing over to hug the blonde.

"I wanted to say goodbye!" Sydney smiles. "I will see you soon, I'm sure." She adds. y/n chuckles and squeezes the blonde once more as Sydney then hugs Georgia.

The taxi pulls up and Sydney pulls y/n to the side, Georgia rolling her eyes as she is left to help the driver pack their cases away.

"Tell her." Sydney says quietly, her back facing Georgia. "Just tell her." She adds.

"But Syd." y/n sighs and Sydney sends her a look. "I'm so sacred." y/n admits and Sydney giggles and brings y/n into a hug.

"Everyone's scared y/n, but if there is one person who can deal with fear it's Baby England." Sydney promises and y/n sighs.

"I'll see you soon." y/n promises Sydney who smiles and the two pull away and share another smile.

"We going?" Georgia calls, the girl leant against the car, arms folded and eyes narrowed in annoyance as y/n rolls her eyes.

"Yeah." y/n tells her. "See you soon!" y/n grins at Sydney who waves at her as y/n climbs into the taxi.

"About time." Georgia scoffs before nodding at Sydney although slightly tightly before Georgia sunk into the car and shut the door.

y/n sighs at the girl's attitude but quickly slides her headphones on and easily ignores the glare Georgia sent her way and the driver awkwardly clears his throat as he drives away.

Sydney watches the car go, a wedge of confusion stuck in her at the fact the two girls she played with could not see what she could so clearly.

"Dummes Mädchen. Also offensichtlich eifersüchtig." Sydney can't help but say as she begins to walk home.

Stupid girls. So obviously jealous.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n and Georgia made it to the airport, neither having said a word to the other since the ride began, both placing their headphones on and ignoring the other - anger swirling for reasons neither really understood.

The two checked in their baggage as if they were separate travellers who didn't know each other. They went and got coffees from separate places as if they were not friends.

And when they sat down on the plane, the two turned away and closed their eyes, preparing to sleep the short journey.

"Why are you angry with me?" y/n asked quietly, trying not to be too loud. But Georgia didn't answer, she simply turned to face the window.

y/n sighed, rolling her eyes and leaning down, pulling her eye mask out of her bag and placing Georgia's on her arm, knowing she struggled to sleep on the plane without it.

At the action, Georgia caved and turned to face y/n, but the girl already had her headphones and mask on, and was clearly no longer interested in the conversation.

And as the two sat next to each other, travelling back home to their national camp. Neither had felt so lonely in a long time.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

End of part one

[mysunshinetemptress]

Anxiety (lil McCabe universe)

Leah Williamson x McCabe!reader!ex

Magdalena Eriksson x Pernille Harder x McCabe!reader!platonic

Warnings: Talks of anxiety, not edited or proofread

You’re anxious, a feeling that has followed you around way longer than you would like to admit, a feeling that has consumed you way longer than your family, your Mam, knows about, longer than anyone knows about.

You had tried to tell her about the funny feeling you had as a kid, your little heart racing, your mind spinning, spiraling into the never-ending feeling of fear, but there was always something else, someone else. It wasn’t your Mam’s fault, nor was it your siblings’. They had things they needed her for, their own problems. Your Mam had her own problems. Surely this feeling, this sickening feeling, wasn’t as important as your siblings’ feelings, their needs and wants. They were older, so much older, they had more serious problems, more important problems and feelings than this feeling you were dealing with, right?

You didn't know why you so sick, it was so much more than butterflies, defenitly not excitement, it wasn't until you had been all grown up and earning enough money to visit a doctor did you get a diagnosis.

"Miss McCabe, you suffer from anxiety"

You had felt a weight being liftied off you the moment your feelings had been givien a name, that you weren't just looking for attention, you weren't just making it up, made you feel so much lighter then you had ever felt.

"You said you have been suffereing with these feelings since you were a child, did you ever try to tell anyone."

You nod, you had tried, when you couldn't go to your mam, you had tried one of your older siblings, you had tried to tell Katie, but she was to busy to deal with you "Y/n, can't you see i'm playing with Lauryn, your supposed to be a big girl now not a baby stop makeing things up for attention." you dropped your head as Katie muttered "Seriously she really needs to grow up."

"I tried." the docotor nodes her head her eyes scanning your solum face "How come you decided to look for answers now? For help now?"

You pick at your fingers "My girlfriend...She-she said she was worried about me...that-that sometimes I have trouble sleeping" you take a breath picking at your fingers looking towards the door, "I have trouble concentrating, she...I don't...she just said i should come here, that i should get a check up make sure im ok." The doctor smiled at you softly "If your girlfriend hadn't pushed you to come see me, would you have come eventualy."

Would you? "No" she looks surprised at your answer "No? why?" You look at the door again picking at the skin around your nails "I-I-I have to get on with it, I have to learn to get on with it-I have to grow up." The doctor looks even more surpriesed, sad, unhappy with your answer. Why is she unhappy with your answer?

“This isn’t something you can grow out of Miss McCabe, anxiety isn’t something you should just push on with, it can cause serious mental health problems for you if you do.” You shake your head no “I-I don’t have time-I have to get on with it-it’s the only way.” The doctor lets out a sigh “You said you come from a big family, surely one of them doesn’t mind talking to you about these things.” You shake your head again “They don’t need this, they-they don’t need anymore then they already have.” The doctor wants to press on you can see that but her attention is pulled to your bloody hands, you’ve picked at them till they bled. She looks to the door “Your girlfriend then.” Again you shake your head.

Leah doesn’t deserve the stress of something being wrong with you, she doesn’t deserve the possible sacrifices she’ll have to make in order to make you feel comfortable and happy. Not her,not Leah, not when she is the only person who looks at you and not through you, the only person whose hand fits and hold yours instead of passing through.

“I can look after myself, I-I have done it for long enough.”

You can look after yourself, you have done it for long enough, it’s the mantra you repeat in your head again and again as you arrive at the training grounds for Bayern, it’s the mantra you repeat every time your anxiety strikes and you feel yourself pick at your hands.

Bayern Munich, fresh start, no Katie, no Arsenal, no stupid bets, no Leah. Y/n, just Y/n.

“Hi.” Bayern Munich and Magdalena Eriksson, Bayern Munich and Pernille Harder.

You look behind you trying to see if it’s anyone else they are talking to, but there’s no one, there’s only you.

You.

You think for a second and the voices scream in your head, they are just like the others, this is a joke another bet, who can get closest to the new girl first. Who can pretend to be her friend the best.

Your hands, your poor hands sting as you begin to pick at them again, they are the same as the others, they have to be, all you are is worth a bet, 100 quid.

But still, there is no one behind you, no one new in the car park and the older women continue to smile at you softly.

Magda looks at your hands her smile faltering, she drags her eyes up your body, now noticing your heaving chest, your panicking, your shivering slightly yet you speak, you force yourself to talk to them even though it’s scaring the living shit out of you

“Hi”

[seulgisqt]

𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 — lena oberdorf

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

(a/n: hey…it’s been a while, uni has me on its deathbed so enjoy this piece whilst I disappear again x)

word count: 1136

genre: fluff

summary: lena challenges you to a game, but the real challenge is ignoring the way she looks at you

Giuila’s housewarming party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Music pulsed through the apartment, blending with the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter. From the balcony, you could hear a few teammates arguing over a game of cards. The kind of chaotic energy that only came when the squad was off-duty.

You weren’t exactly a party person. Sure, you’d go to the team events when you had to, but you’d never been the first to arrive or the one to linger long after. Still, Giulia had insisted, and you figured one wouldn’t kill you.

You hesitated at the door, shifting the bottle of wine you’d brought. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a decent contribution. Just as you raised a hand to knock, the door swung open, and Giulia stood there, grinning.

“You made it!” She beamed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside before you could even respond. “About time. I was starting to think I’d have to drag you here myself.”

You laughed. “You would have tried.”

“Obviously,” she teased as she took the wine bottle from you. “Now go get a drink. Just—“ she shot a look towards the kitchen where Klara was waving a bright green drink in Georgia’s face, “maybe don’t let Klara talk you into whatever she’s making.”

You promised to steer clear, but as turned towards the living room, Lena’s familiar figure caught your eye.

Sitting on the arm of the sofa, beer in hand, she caught your gaze and lifted her solo cup in a silent greeting.

You and Lena weren’t exactly close. However, your midfield partnership was solid. You understood each other’s movements, and trusted each other in tight spaces. But off the pitch? Your interactions had always been brief—causal words in passing, although she had a sharp wit that always kept you on your toes.

And you were slowly warming up to her.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here,” she smirked, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as she stretched out her arm in an inviting gesture for a quick embrace.

“Why’s that?” you replied amusement crept into your voice, as you sunk into her warm embrace, feeling the softness of her sweater against your cheek.

She shrugged. “You don’t usually do the whole team bonding thing outside of training.”

“I do.” You tilted your head. “Sometimes.”

Lena’s smile widened as she pushed off the sofa. “Alright, then prove it. Play Jenga with me.”

Gesturing towards the coffee table, where a precariously stacked Jenga tower stood, the game already mid-progress. Georgia was up, hands steady as she carefully pulled out a block. The moment she placed it on top, Giulia—ever the troublemaker, bumped her shoulder just hard enough to send the entire thing crashing down.

“You’re kidding,” Georgia groaned as the room erupted in laughter.

Lena leaned in, voice low. “Think we can do better?”

Your pulse stuttered at her closeness, but you forced yourself to focus. “Obviously.”

So you played.

At first, it was just a casual game, with teammates cheering you both on, but then it became a challenge. Just you and Lena, neither of you willing to back down. Every time she pulled out a block, her fingers would brush yours—maybe accidentally, maybe not. And every time you made a risky move, she’d grin at you like she was impressed.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were aware of the rest of the party continuing around you. Music, laughter, the occasional shouts from the kitchen as Klara tried to convince someone—anyone—to try her latest cocktail disaster. But here, in this little bubble of competition, it was just you and Lena.

The Jenga tower grew taller, the tension thick. You reach for a block near the middle, carefully wiggling it free. The second you placed it on top, Lena exhaled a low whistle.

“Not bad,” she murmured.

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh, I’m not.” She tapped her fingers against the table, considering her next move. “I know exactly how steady your hands are.”

The words sent a jolt of heat up your spine, though you weren’t entirely sure why.

The game ended a few rounds later when a risky move from Lena, sent the tower tumbling down. She grumbled, readjusting her ponytail as the rest of your teammates laughed, but she was still watching you, something in her expression indecipherable.

By the time Giulia called for a toast, the night had blurred into something easy, warm. Glasses clinked, voices filled the room, and Lena nudged your arm.

“Wanna get some air?”

You hesitated, just for a second, but then you nodded.

The cool night air was a relief as you stepped onto the balcony, the distant hum of Munich stretching out before you. Lena leaned against the ornate railing, her gaze flickering towards you.

“You having fun?” She asked.

“Surprising, yeah.” You huffed a laugh.

“Told you it wouldn’t kill you to socialise.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Falling into a comfortable silence, Lena shifted, her shoulder brushing yours. “You know,” she began, voice softer now, “you’re different when you’re not so focused on football.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “You’re just…lighter. It’s nice.”

Your stomach flipped.

You didn’t know what to say to that. You weren’t even sure what she meant, not really, but there was something about the way she was looking at you. Like she was seeing something no one else did, making your heart crawl its way up to your throat.

And then, before you could think too hard about it, you nudged her. “I like this side of you too.”

Lena raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The words hung between you, heavy with something neither of you had put a name to yet.

Lena’s gaze flitted down—to your lips, just for a second—and your pulse skyrocketed.

But she didn’t close the distance.

Instead, she reached for your hand, fingers brushing hesitantly before settling against yours. Not quite lacing together, but not pulling away either.

You heart pounded, hearing the pulse in your ears.

Another second passed as the balcony door burst open, and Klara stumbled out, drink in hand, oblivious to whatever moment had been forming.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, eyes flicking between you and Lena. “We’re playing Uno. You two in?”

You blinked, still trying to catch up to reality. Lena glanced at you, something amused flickering across her face, before she finally pulled her hand away.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re in.”

Klara grinned, already heading back inside.

Lena exhaled, turning back to you, her voice low. “This isn’t over,” she murmured.

And then she was gone, leaving you standing there, heartbeat unsteady, wondering what the hell had just happened.

[pelova4president]

Gone soft

Sydney Lohmann x Reader

summary~ Your cocky girlfriend finally gets humbled by you. Well, you tried.

!warnings! not proof read, suggestive

Sydney was arrogant and cocky. She knew she was good at football and she knew she looked good playing it too. You’ve always done as she asked, wether it was making her a sandwich or whenever she was asking for a kiss. Sydney is just too beautiful to ignore.

You were sat with a few of your Bayern teammates. Sydney had you on her lap and her hands were resting on your thighs, you knew she liked you like that, close to her.

It started with a little teasing from Georgia, she had accused you of being a pillow princes. Yeah, you were one but it wasn’t like you were about to just admit it. So you shook your head in protest.

“Oh come on! You do practically everything Sydney asks you to do. You’ve gone soft.” Sam Kerr scoffed at your denial.

“I’m not soft, i just like to do things for Syd.” you tried to defend yourself but your effort was utile as your girlfriend laughed at you.

“Even your girlfriend thinks you’re joking.” Jill comments with a grin.

“Fuck all of you. I’m not a pillow princess and i’m not fucking soft.” you told the girls.

Sydney began tracing patterns on your thigh to calm you down but it only spurred you on.

“I can prove it to you. At the end of the week you’ll all know who the soft one is.” you said with a huff.

You kept your promise. As soon as you arrived home you went to the kitchen to cook your favourite. You had a soft tune on and were in a good mood. Sydney came into the kitchen minutes before you were done.

“Hi schatz, what’re you cooking for dinner hmm?” she hummed getting closer. She put her hands on your stomach and her head in your neck.

“Smells nice baby.” she complimented your cooking skills. Your girlfriend kissed you on your rosy cheek and went to kiss you on your lips but you turned away.

“Babeee.” she whined into your neck. You had to hide your sneaky smile and acted like you hadn’t done anything.

“What Syd? I’m almost done, can you lay the table please.” you asked her innocently.

After dinner you didn’t really give her any attention. You knew Syd loved physical touch and you weren’t giving her any, she had to be the first to break.

As the both of you got ready for bed you rejected all her little tricks to get you to sleep with her. The little kisses she planted on your neck were wiped away and her soft hands on your body were swatted away.

“Baby come on.” Sydney whined when she tried to kiss you and you turned your head away for the third time in a row. You looked her innocently in the eyes.

Your girlfriend knew it was time to adress the problem. “Schatz it was just a joke, didn’t mean anything by it. Although you are a pillow princess… not that there’s anything wrong with that! You’re my pillow princess hmm?” Syd told you as you laid in bed.

“Yeah but Syd everyone thinks i am one! I’m not soft! And you didn’t even tell them off, you just laughed with them. So i think you can deal with a few days of no kisses.” you told her off.

Sydney looked like the most horrible thing happened the her. “No kisses, but that’s just not fair!” she groaned.

“Should’ve thought about that before you told everyone i’m a pillow princess hmm?” you grinned.

At training you really tried to keep your façade up. Sydney had tried all of het little love tricks on you but you kept your cool. When you needed to partner up for a warm up she planted her hands on your hips and pulled you towards her. Her head came to lay on your shoulder and she whispered in your ear, “Wanna be my partner, babe?”.

You had to admit, it was harder to reject her than you would’ve thought. Especially when she was showing you some extra affection.

You groaned when you noticed everyone had already been partnered up and you had no other choice but to work with your clingy girlfriend.

“Looks like i have no other choice, hmm?” you grumbled under your breath as you walked away towards the dugout.

Sydney grabbed your by your wrist and spun you around so your front collided with hers. Her mouth hovered over your right ear as she whispered, “I know you want me, just give up already.”. You scoffed at that and went to walk away again when you felt her hand slap your ass. You shot her a deadly stare and you received a light laugh in return.

It was the fifth day that one of you broke.

Sunday mornings were always for staying in. It was the day after your game day so it meant resting, well on most Sundays there wasn’t much resting but today you were determined to yet again, reject your girlfriend’s horny teenager behaviour.

You woke up to Syd already awake. She had her arms around you and her legs intertwined with yours. Her warm mouth was pampering kisses all over your morning face.

“Good morning mein schatz.” she whispered in your ear.

You loved her morning voice and it was hard to resist her with her morning hair and soft touches. Especially if she looked as good as she did today. Sydney decided to sleep in one of your old England jerseys and panties.

Being too distracted by your girlfriends morning appearance you failed to notice the warm hand wandering south.

“Hmm Syd..” you groaned into her neck.

“N-not until you tell me i’m right.” you told her.

Sydney was surprised you didn’t just give up. “But babe, it doesn’t matter.” she grumbled.

You went to lay on your other side to check your phone. It was already 11am so that meant it was time for breakfast. “Come on baby, i’m hungry.” you told her. 

“I’m hungry too.. just not for breakfast.” Sydney groaned into her pillow.

But Lohmann didn’t give up though, not until she had won.

The lingering touches and the constant affection didn’t stop. She had you sit on her lap while watching a movie, cooked for you and even fed you. She was upgrading her game.

“Hey schatz, come try the soup i’m making you.” your girlfriend yelled from the kitchen.

You walked over to where she stood and she trapped you between her front and the counter. A spoon of red soup was tilted towards your girlfriend’s mouth to blow on it. When she thought it was the right temperature she moved the spoon towards your mouth.

As you tasted your girlfriend’s cooking she whispered in your ear, “Is it any good?”. You hummed but it quickly turned into a moan when she kissed up your neck.

Her hand traveled lower and her kisses got sloppier. As she set you down on the counter where you were trapped against earlier she hovered her lips over yours.

“Say you want it, and i’ll give it to you.” Sydney told you patiently.

“I want you.” you finally told her.

“You’re just my soft pillow princess hmm?” Sydney smiled against your neck.

AN. haven’t written in a long time and didn’t really want to proofread

[amirawrah]

⭐︎Where’s My Matcha?

with MICHAEL OLISE⭐︎

synopsis: You casually post a sleepy morning TikTok—but the internet loses it when Michael Olise strolls by shirtless, raspy-voiced, and mumbles, “Where’s my matcha?” Fans fall head over heels for his unexpected soft boyfriend energy, but Michael? He’s totally unfazed. Just wants his matcha… and maybe a kiss. @muglermami

It was a quiet Saturday morning—the kind where the sun filters through the curtains and everything feels a little slower, a little softer.

You were in the kitchen, wearing his Bayern training hoodie and fuzzy socks, propping your phone against the coffee jar to film a TikTok. Just something simple—lo-fi music, you making toast, lighting a candle, pouring juice. Nothing serious.

Caption: [cozy mornings with me🫶🏾]

The camera caught your soft smile, the sleepy sway of your hips to the beat, the clink of the butter knife.

And then it happened.

0:07 — A door creaked in the background.

0:09 — Michael walked past the hallway arch, shirtless, locs flattened on one side, grey sweats hanging low on his hips, a tattoo peeking as he scratched the back of his neck.

Still blinking, still waking up, he mumbled in the most unreasonably attractive raspy voice:

“Where’s my matcha?”

And kept walking.

You didn’t cut it.

Didn’t reshoot.

Just posted it with a little shrug and a caption update: [he’s not camera shy. he’s just always sleepy. 😭☕️]

You thought nothing of it until your notifications blew up.

@bayernmunichfanpage: “the way he said ‘where’s my matcha’ i’m screamingggg 💀💀💀”

@footiegirliessarehere: “y/n & michael are the calmest, coziest couple ever like i just KNOW their house always smells like vanilla and vibes.”

@matchaisworlddd: “petition to make michael olise our official matcha mascot immediately”

Even Bayern’s official account quote tweeted it:

@fcbayern: “we’ll get him a lifetime supply if he keeps giving us content like this”

You showed Michael later that morning while you were curled up on the couch, his head in your lap.

“They’re obsessed with you,” you said, scrolling through the comments.

He peeked up at you, lips twitching. “Because I said four words?”

“It’s the voice. And the shirtless you. And probably your entire existence, babe.”

He just hummed and closed his eyes again, hand resting on your thigh.

“They can have the voice,” he murmured. “The rest is yours.”

You blinked, heart doing a slow little backflip. “I like it when you just say stuff like that casually”

He smirked, eyes still closed. “I’m half-asleep. Wait till I’m fully charged.”

[cher-rei]

Girlfriend!Reader does the Tiktok Trend where she calls her boyfriend Jamal musiala husband and he reacts all cute and excited like “damn yeah, I’m her husband”

husband material— jamal musiala [ J.M ]

and even after all the butterflies, I'm into you [still into you– paramore]

pairings: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: crumble cookie and a cute boyfriend.

genre(s): flufffffff

[w.c: 615] masterlist

notes: I've arrived!!!

if there was one thing that you loved more than your boyfriend then it was how flustered he got whenever you complimented him. (or when you did anything really)

and today just happened to be one of those days where you couldn't just scroll past a tiktok, not when you had jamal in all his oblivious perfection. so when you guys got back from the mall you rushed to the kitchen to set up your little scheme.

you called him over with the intent to film a cute but simple tiktok while you guys tried crumble cookie since the store just opened in munich. everyone was going crazy over it so the cover up was good enough for jamal to believe, and if you wanted to do something then sure as hell he was going to be there.

trying best to suppress the smile on your face you hit the record button and ushered him into the frame. the box of cookies was in front of you on the kitchen island, jamal's eyes glued to it in curiosity which made you giggle.

“hey guys, so crumble cookie dropped in munich a few days ago so obviously I have to try it.” you tapped the pink box lightly, your lips tugging into smile as he was still so focused on it.

“so my husband and I got–”

jamal’s head snapped to look at you instantly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “what?”

bingo.

you licked your lips and gave him a hum, trying to play it off as cool as possible.

he blinked down at you a few times, a smile etched onto his face but he wasn't sure if he heard you properly or not. he was sure that his brain was messing with him, blaming it on the exhaustion and hunger. “what?”

you let out an awkward laugh at his repeated question, the look on his face making your heart swell. “baby, you can't just say “what”. I'm confused.”

it was jamal's turn to laugh and he turned to look at you fully. “yeah me too.” he watched as you pulled a face at him. “did you not hear what you called me?”

in need of reassurance his hand found yours, the urge to pull you closer itching at him but he held himself back and prompted to question you properly. because maybe he was hearing things.

“my husband?”

your repetition of the title made his heart pound, the clarification sending a rush of warmth to his cheeks. he stared at you for a bit without anything to say as your smile only grew. you laughed playfully and lessened the space between the two of you, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

you looked up at him with a glint in your eyes. “are you not my husband? do you not like it?”

almost immediately jamal had his hands wrapped around your waist. “no shut up, why wouldn't I?”

your hands found their way around his neck. “exactly, so you're my husband.”

“hell yeah I am!” he looked at the camera, the cookies completely out of the question because since when was that ever important. “she's here with her husband. I'm her husband.” he pointed to himself proudly and let go of you and somehow found himself pacing around the kitchen.

you couldn't contain your laughter, not when he was chanting “I'm your husband” over and over to the point where he was giddily hopping around until he was back in frame and cupped your cheeks.

“that makes you my wife, oh my god, I love it here!”

“I'm your wife!” you screamed back in realisation and his smile grew.

“yes, baby I'm your husband!”

[bronzeyslcve]

snuggle bug - georgia stanway

paring: georgia stanway x female reader

theme: fluff

summary: you’ve had a very bad day and just want to cuddle up with your girlfriend

warnings: mentions of knee injuries

notes: if anyone has any fluff requests, please send them in because i would love to write some more fluffy stuff x

─────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────

You loved football. Football was your life. You could kick a ball before you could walk, you always had a ball at your feet, not caring what any of the boys thought, you were much better than them anyways. It was a true blessing that your career had been injury free. Not many footballers can say that. Sure you’ve had the usual cramps and overstretching, but nothing that stoped you from playing. Week in, week out you were on the team sheet for whatever club you we’re currently playing for, whether that be in the starting lineup or sitting on the bench to more than likely come on in the second half.

Currently, you were playing for Bayern Munich, you had been for two seasons now. You had moved to the club back in 2022 with your long term girlfriend, Georgia Stanway. And it was the best decision you have ever made. Bayern felt like home. Neither you, nor Georgia ever wanted to leave.

This week, you had been training for one of the bigger games of the season, against Wolfsburg. The team was obviously looking to win, to keep the 44 match unbeaten streak alive and up it to 45.

Everyone felt as if they were fully prepared for the match, training had gone well and things were looking promising for a victory over the She-Wolves.

However, unfortunately the game didn’t go in your way. An early goal from Endemann had you all frazzled and for you, the game just went downhill from there.

It was in the thirty eight minute. A beautiful pass from Georgia landed at your feet, you ran onto it, overstretching slightly and felt a sharp pain in your knee, accompanied by the feint noise of a pop, which sent you onto the floor. The goal that could’ve been, wiped away.

As soon as she saw you go down, Georgia was straight over to you, helping you to sit up. You buried your face into her shoulder, not wanting any of the fans to see you cry.

“What hurts baby?” Georgia asked, voice full of concern as one of her hands rub up and down your back in a soothing manner.

“Right knee,” you winced as the medics rushed over, attending to the injured area.

“Y/n, was ist los?” came the voice from your captain, Glodis as she knelt down on the other side of you, taking immediate notice on the way you could barley move your leg and the tears in your eyes.

“Her knee,” Georgia simply stated, worry plastered all over her face as she continues to rub her hand up and down your back. She wants nothing than to cry for you, but for now, she kept herself strong, not wanting to worry you further.

Glodis nodded as she watched the medics do their thing, the rest of the team on the sidelines having a quick gel and discussing tactics: all of them worried about you.

The small mutter of “wir brauchen die trage,” from one of the medics rang through your ears and that made more tears fall from your eyes into your lovers shoulder. You had always hated the idea of having to come off of a pitch on a stretcher. Yet here you were.

“It’ll be okay baby, I promise,” Georgia reassured you, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head, trying to keep you as calm as possible.

All you can manage is a small nod of your head as you’re gently positioned onto the stretcher, that had come onto the pitch, by the medical staff.

“I love you,” she exclaimed as she walked behind the stretcher as you were being led off, one of her hands in yours, the Bayern fans clapping in the stands for you.

Glodis also walked with the stretcher until it reached the sidelines of the pitch, asking the medics in hushed German what they thought your injury was. It was no surprise when they muttered that the three dreaded letters were one of the possibilities. However you didn’t think about that, you just focused on your hand in Georgia’s.

“I love you too G,” you managed to reply shakily, voice thick with more, unshed, tears. As soon as you were off of this pitch you would cry properly, you just couldn’t do it in front of the fans.

Georgia pressed a kiss to your forehead and gently squeezed your hand before reluctantly letting go. She knows she has a match to play and as soon as that’s over she’s by your side and never leaving.

The match unfortunately did not end up in Bayern’s favour. A 67th minute goal from Beerensteyn sealed a 2-0 victory for Wolfsburg. The team just weren’t their best today and your injury had knocked them further, all of them incredibly worried about you. Especially Georgia.

As soon as Georgia had shook hands with the opposing players and said a quick ‘danke’ to the fans, she was rushing through the tunnel to make her way into the medical room where she knew you were.

The midfielders heart broke when she saw you laying there, knee all braced up, crutches propped up by the side of you, tear marks stained into your cheeks.

“Oh baby,” she sighed as she came and gently sat down next to you on the bed, one of her hands reaching for yours.

“It hurts G,” you whined as you felt a gentle kiss get pressed to your forehead.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Let’s get you back home so you can rest it, I assume you’ve got to go for scans tomorrow?”

“Yeah, scans tomorrow and then if needed, surgery whenever.”

Georgia nods as she presses a gentle kiss to your lips before getting up and grabbing your crutches, holding them out to you.

“I would carry you, my love, but I don’t want to hurt you even more. These your meds?”

“Mhm, gotta take them for the pain,” you state with a soft groan as you manage to pull yourself off of the bed, relying heavily on the crutches.

“Take it easy baby, we’ve got as long as you need, I promise.” she reassures you, one hand gently resting on your back as you swing your way to the changing rooms, your meds tucked underneath her arm.

When you got in the changing rooms, Georgia helped to sit you down at your cubby, which was right next to her own. All of your teammates gave you gentle reassurances that you would be okay, that you would come back stronger and better. It was sweet of them, but you weren’t really paying too much attention. You just wanted to go home, lay in bed and snuggle with Georgia: who was now having a slapdash post-match shower so she could get back to you as quickly as possible.

It’s about six hours and one long bus journey after the match ended that you finally manage to make it home, back to your apartment about ten minutes away from Bayern’s training grounds. Georgia helps you into the lounge, before busing herself with making sure that everything in the apartment was safe. That there was nothing you could trip over and accidentally cause more damage to yourself.

You found what she was doing incredibly sweet, however you still want your hugs. You needed them.

“Georgia,” you winced as you shifted yourself slightly on the sofa, so you could see what the midfielder was doing down the hall.

Her head immediately snapped up, her eyes meeting yours and she rushed over to you, her voice full of concern. “Baby, don’t move so much, it’ll hurt more. What’s wrong?”

“I just want cuddles, please,” you plead, pulling your puppy dog eyes and pouting a little.

Georgia smiled and nodded, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before whispering, “of course sweetheart. In bed?”

A small “yes please,” was all that left your lips and then Georgia helped you into the bedroom, being extremely careful to not cause you any more harm. Once in you’re in your room, you get into your side of the bed and get comfortable, immediately melting into Georgia as she wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly against her chest.

“You’re my little snuggle bug, hm baby?” she mutters and you can tell by the tone of her voice, she’s smiling.

“Mhm, can we just stay like this, all night? Please,” you beg, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Course we can sweetheart, this okay?” she asks softly whilst rubbing one hand up and down your back, the other gently playing with your hair.

“It’s perfect G, I love you,”

“I love you too sweetheart, I’m so sorry,”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault that I got injured now, is it?”

Georgia smiles and shakes her head, continuing to hold you against her revelling in the way you practically cling to her: before she speaks up again a few seconds later.

“I know, but still, I just hate how you’ve had such a shit day, baby, I’m sorry about that.”

You smile and let out a small hum against her, holding her just as tight, if not more so, as she’s holding you. You feel so safe, so comforted and loved in her arms, you never want to leave them.

“You wanna know why it’s even more shit?”

“Baby, you’ve potentially fucked your ACL, how on earth can this day get even more shit?” she asks, intrigued to what you’re going to say.

“I came on my fucking period,” you whine and that makes your girlfriend burst out laughing.

“My god, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that my love.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head in disbelief before pulling your head back to properly look at her face. Hearing her laugh was still one of the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard: even if it was at your expense.

“It’s not funny!” you protest, although it’s feeble because you can’t help but chuckle along with Georgia.

“Oh baby, it is. You’ve got the shittiest luck ever,” she giggles, and at the sound of it, like always, you feel yourself swooning.

“Just shut up and go get me some chocolate,” you say with a cheeky grin, which she gently kisses from your lips, so it turns into a soft smile.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back .”

For the rest of the evening, you spent it cuddled up to Georgia, sharing the chocolate and watching some random movies. Tomorrow, you would go have your scans, find out exactly what you’ve done to your knee and you weren’t worried about it anymore. If you had torn your ACL, you knew you could get through it because you had Georgia by your side, and you always would.

[pitchsidestories]

After Midnight II Sydney Lohmann x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1377

summary: Sydney wants to confess her love to reader as the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve. requested

author's note: thank you, anon for sending us the request, enjoy. ❤️❤️

The New Year’s Eve party was well underway in the picturesque old flat which offered a wonderful view of Munich. Dance music was blasting from the speakers. 

The balloons with 2025 printed on them were either on the floor or the ceiling.

Laura Freigang had set up a little photobooth in the corner of the living room where the guests could take photos with a Polaroid camera. 

“Tonight, I’ll tell her.”, Sydney Lohmann thought.

The Bayern Munich footballer only realised that she had said it out loud when the Frankfurt player replied to her sentence. An unconvinced laugh left the forward’s lips: “Sure, Syd.”

Her doubtful reaction only made it clearer to Sydney that tonight was about telling you about her feelings for you or keeping quiet about them forever.

“What? You don’t believe me?”, she asked the German national teammate.

With an amused twinkle in her blue eyes, Laura shook her head: “You’ve been saying that for months.”

Each of the Bayern Munich players who attended the New Year’s Eve party had an opinion on Sydney’s crush. The crush which was you was the only guest who hasn’t arrived yet.

“Literally. It got to the point that it was annoying.”, Klara teased her.

In a jokingly tone, Georgia added: “And that’s coming from Klara herself.”

“Excuse me? So rude. Maybe I should consider joining Barcelona in the summer.”, she pouted.

“No, you won’t do that.”, Sydney observed smiling.

Excitedly, the Scottish Sam Kerr intervened: “Girls, Syd’s crush is coming!”

“Perfect time, we can finally continue drinking.”, the English midfielder remarked in good spirits.

“I’ll get us a new round.”, Laura announced cheerfully.

You entered the room slightly ashamed, knowing full well that you were the last to arrive, even though it wasn't your fault. While you apologized your cheeks turned hot: “I’m so sorry, I know ‘m late, you can blame the MVG for that, but at least I got the dessert to make up for it.”

“Oh, no problem”, Sydney waved it off before helping you take off your winter coat and revealing your New Year's Eve outfit underneath.

The fellow football player admired the view, then she cleared her throat awkwardly: “Just glad you’re here.”

Her truthfulness caught you off guard, so the next words tended to stumble out of your mouth.: “ Me too. What I mean is.. I’m glad to be here with all of you.”

“Uhm, would you like a drink?”, Syndey offered, licking her lips nervously.

“Yes, please.”, you agreed.

With a silent nod she turned towards Laura who was in charge of the drinks that night: “Lau, can you make her one too?”

“Of course!”, the Frankfurt player replied happily, getting up to start mixing another drink.

“Thanks.”

A few moments later, she came over to you with your finished drink. As Laura handed you the glass, she winked and whispered: “Do everything I would do too.”

“That’s horrible advice.“, Sydney chuckled.

“Honestly.“, you agreed, taking a sip of the sweet drink to hide the blood rushing into your cheeks.

Sydney shook her head with a dismissive hand gesture: “Ignore her, she already had a few drinks.”

You watched as Laura retreated and sat back down with Klara and the other Bayern players: “Laura sounded pretty sober to me. How are you?”

The midfielder seemed to be surprised by your question, her eyes widened slightly and she blinked a few times: “I’m fine. Why?”

“You look a bit nervous. Don’t you like fireworks? Klara said we can do some sparklers later…”

“I’m not nervous, I’m totally fine.”, she said but she started to look even more horrified at your assumptions which made it hard to believe her.

“Okay.”

“Anyone wants some snacks?”, she suddenly changed the topic and your heart dropped at an instant, hoping you didn’t offend her.

“I do!”, Klara yelled from the other side of the room.

You watched quietly as Sydney disappeared into kitchen, followed by a concerned looking Laura.

While Sydney plated some pre-made snacks on a tray, Laura watched her with her arms crossed in front of her chest: “The operation Truth isn’t going too well so far, right?”

“I can’t do it right now, that would be weird.”, Sydney replied with her back to her German teammate.

“Weird? Why? For how much longer do you want to wait, Syd? Forever or until midnight?”

“Laura!”

“You know it’s true.”

Finally, the Bayern midfielder turned around and sighed: “I will tell her at midnight, don’t worry.”

Laura gave one satisfied nod, her facial features relaxing: “Good.”

“Here, take those snacks outside.”, Sydney said and put the tray into the Frankfurt players hands.

“Okay, but it’s getting closer to midnight.”, Laura reminded her.

One more frustrated sigh from Sydney made clear that she didn’t want to talk about it: “Laura, I got it all under control.”

That was the only thing you heard from their conversation.

“Under control? Kitchen emergency?”, you grinned as you walked in.

Sydney quickly shook her head: “No, all good. Would you like Laura to make you another drink?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”, you assured her.

The midfielder sighed relived: “Okay, great.”

“But can we talk?”, you asked her, nervously playing with a strand of hair and waiting for her answer.  

She looked at you, taken by surprise: “Now?”

“I guess it has time until after the countdown.”, you bit your lip.

“Are you sure?”, Sydney raised an eyebrow at you.

“You tell me.”, you replied and passed the ball back to her.

“Okay, let’s talk about it in the new year.”, the blonde decided and ran a hand through her loose hair.

Suddenly you heard yourself speaking your inner thoughts out loud :”Do you think it’s better to be quiet than to speak up?”

 “What do you mean?”, she frowned in confusion.

You shrugged your shoulders, slightly frustrated: “Doesn’t matter, let’s join the others on the balcony.”

To your great surprise, Sydney held on to your upper arm with her hand so that you couldn't go on to the other women, who could hardly wait for it to be 2025 and for them all to start a new chapter in their lives.

“Why are you being so secretive tonight?”, she wanted to know from you alarmed.

You glance calmly into her blue eyes: “I’m not, you’re so weird tonight too.”

“I’m not weird.”, the midfielder huffed.

Your heart sank as you questioned: “When what is it what you’re not telling me?”

“Who said I do?”, Sydney returned the question.

There was a touch of helplessness in your voice while your friends counted down the minutes until it was midnight in the background: “Syd..”

“Fine. I like you, y/n. I really like you.”, she admitted.

You gently framed her face with your hands and confessed: “Sydney, I like you the same way.”

“Wait, you do?”, the light-haired woman mumbled in astonishment.

Your mouth felt dry once you confirmed: “Yes.”

“You mean, not just like friends.”, Sydney pressed on.

“More like lovers.”, you clarified, your heart pondering hard against your chest.

The blonde sheepishly smiled at you: “Can I kiss you?”

A nod of the head was enough to make her do exactly what she had asked. The lights of the fireworks outside and the one inside you caused by the kiss rang in the new year.

“Happy New Year.”, you heard Georgia yelling.

The two of you were in your own world. “Y/n, Happy New Year.”, Sydney whispered into your ear, giving you chills all over your body before kissing you again.

“Oh my God, Klara, get the champagne out”’, Laura first spotted you two, her voice filled with excitement. 

A loud laughter escaped the younger forward’s lips: “Laura, the champagne is already out.”

“Yes, but now we’ve to celebrate Sydney’s confession.”, the Frankfurt player explained smirking.

Sydney tried to sound nonchalantly:” Girls, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, please ignore us so we can go back to kissing.”, you added with a mischievous smile.

Klara observed delighted about what just has happened: “Great start into the New Year.”

“We agree.”, Sydney and you said at the same time, each of you erupting into a warm laughter as the sparklers were lit mirroring the lightness you felt when your lips touched hers.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/glimmerofawesome/691962444197855232?source=share

[meazalykov]

yearning

sydney lohmann x f!australian!reader

warnings: no smut but it is very suggestive.

you’re tearing down the wing with ball seeming to be glued to your pink covered foot as bayern’s red and white streaks past along with lyon’s all white. after passing the ball up to lea from the right wing, you look over at sydney in the midfield.

something inside of you wants to call her name, not for the play, but because it’s been festering in your chest for months, a weight you can’t spit out. 

you won’t. 

you never do.

all of your bayern teammates notice the yearning clawing inside you, shredding your calm as your eyes give your feelings away. sometimes it is worse since you’re not one of the germans at bayern which means that national breaks are a cruel exile to australia. 

you’ll fly back alone, no shared hotel rooms, no stolen glances on planes with her. every touch, syd’s fingers grazing yours passing a bottle, her shoulder bumping you in a huddle…sears you raw. 

you see it in her too in the way her eyes linger when you tie your pink colored boots, her jaw clenches when you joke with klara or literally any other one of your teammates. everyone is done with it. georgia groans when you stare too long. klara mutters “just ‘do it’ already” when sydney lingers too close, adjusting your sleeves of your kit jersey for no reason. 

the air between you chokes them, but neither of you breaks.

this game right now is against lyon. it is the champions league quarterfinal. you’re in sync with the girl in midfield. yes, you and syd with passes clicking like you share a brain, but it doesn’t quiet the ache. 

after the 70th minute a lyon player tackles you, too close, her hand brushing your arm as she rises. she murmurs something, eyes glinting, playful. 

“you need to watch yourself, sexy”

what the fuck? anyways, you ignore whatever the lyon player is saying and jog back to position. however, nearly half of the pitch witnessed that interaction and the way that lyon’s defensive player checks you out. 

sydney’s stare burns your skin. you glance over and her face is confused, lips pressed thin, eyes dark with something feral. 

the whistle ends it, 2-1 lyon, and you’re drained from the loss.in the locker room, teammates scatter to showers and physios or just chatter. 

sydney’s silent, packing her bag with sharp, angry jerks. you wait, heart pounding, until it’s just you two inside of the locker room when everyone leaves. 

“syd,” you say, voice scraped raw. 

she doesn’t look up so you say, “what’s going on?”

you get silence with just the rustle of her bag. 

your chest tightens, yearning curdling into something sharp. 

you step closer to her sitting figure

“talk to me. i can’t do this if you shut me out.”

syd’s hands freeze. when she looks at you, her eyes are a storm. 

“why don’t you go entertain your lyon friend?” her voice is low, biting, laced with something that stings.

you blink, thrown. 

“what? i didn’t even…”

“don’t,” she cuts you off, standing, close enough you smell her sweat, her shampoo, feel the heat radiating off her. 

“i saw it. we all did.”

anger surges, hot and reckless, “you think i give a single shit about some random player? i didn’t even hear what she said mate. i was more concerned about the team, especially you.”

syd’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t fold. 

“then why does it feel like you’re open to everyone else except for me?” her voice cracks, raw, exposing the hurt beneath, “i’m going insane wanting you, and you’re just there like it doesn’t affect you.”

you snap. 

“doesn’t affect me?” you’re yelling now, voice bouncing off the lockers. 

“i can’t fucking function around you, syd. every time you’re close, it’s like i cannot even function properly since i get so awkward. i go home, i lie there, thinking of you, hating myself because i can’t just say it. i need you, and it’s breaking me.”

silence slams down, heavy, charged. syd’s eyes search yours, wide, unguarded, and you’re so close now, noses brushing, breaths tangling. 

“what do you mean, you need me?” she whispers, not soft, but urgent, a demand carved from desperation.

you swallow, throat tight. 

“i see you every day in training or at klara’s place and it’s like a knife in my chest because i can’t touch you or love you the way i want to syd. i mean i’m in love with you, and it’s fucking destroying me.”

she makes a sound which is some half-gasp, half-sob and then her hands are on your face, rough, trembling. 

“you absolute idiot,” she says, voice shattering, “i’ve been in love with you since you came here.”

time stops as you crash into her, or she pulls you… whatever it was it’s a blur, but your lips meet, fierce, all teeth and starvation, months of want spilling over. syd’s mouth is warm, tasting of mint, and you groan, low and ragged, as she presses herself closer. 

you back her into the lockers, metal clanging, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails biting your skin. you hiss, wanting the sting, wanting everything she could give you. you tug her ponytail free, her hair spilling wild, and she moans which is a a wrecked, desperate sound when you pull it, just enough.

“god,” she gasps, lips grazing your jaw, and you kiss her harder, swallowing her words. your hands roam, tracing the hard lines of her waist, the curve of her hips, and she arches, all heat, all need. 

it’s not enough. you could drown in her and still want more. syd’s fingers dig into your back, and when you nip her lip, she growls, pulling you tighter, smirking when you shudder. 

“so needy,” she murmurs, but her eyes are soft, like you’re something sacred.

you break away, panting, forehead pressed to hers, eyes locked. 

“i hated seeing her near you and the way that her eyes trailed down your body,” she admits, voice raw, “i wanted to break something.”

you laugh, breathless, and kiss her neck, slow, deliberate, feeling her pulse jump. 

“i didn’t see her, syd. just you.”

she shudders, hands gripping your hips, and you’re kissing again, slower, deeper, like you’re unraveling each other. the german’s tongue brushes yours, and you feel it everywhere, heat pooling low, your skin buzzing. 

you want to climb inside her, lose yourself in every inch. syd’s hands slide lower, teasing, and you whimper, helpless, as she chuckles against your mouth, dark and knowing.

unfortunately… reality creeps in. your teammates could walk in, staff could interrupt. you pull back, gasping. 

“we can’t… not here,” you say, but your hands stay on her, refusing to let go.

she nods, but her thumb traces your lip, and you nearly cave. 

“tonight,” she says, voice like iron. “come to my place.”

your heart lurches. 

“tonight,” you echo, a vow.

at least the yearning now it has a place to land after being in the air for so long, ever since you joined the team only a year prior.

masterlist

[trulyhblue]

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

_______________________

Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

[httpsdana]

Hiiii!!! can you write a jamal story with promt 107 where they're having an argument (he's at fault 🤭) with like HEAVY angst where jamal is lowkey being a meanie and not trying to understand readers side but ends in the cutest fluff tho (cuz can't accept sad endings 😭)

Btw FREAKING INLOVEE WITH UR WRITING UR LITERALLY SAVING THE JAMAL GIRLIES I SWEAR!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻💗💗

Also thank you in advance!!!!! 😽🩷🤍

Lost In Translation~Jamal Musiala

THANK YOU SM FOR UR SWEET MESSAGE. i hope u enjoy this one 😙🫶🏻

request from here

master list

players/drivers I write for

107-"please stop. you're scaring me."

She felt it from the start of the season. Jamal had said he was going to give his best this season and push himself to his limits. He promised to avoid any distractions and focus solely on football, fully committing himself. What she didn’t expect was for him to avoid her too. It made her feel like she was the distraction, rather than the support he needed.

y/n woke up every morning without Jamal by her side. Every day, she rushed to the kitchen, hoping to see him and wish him a good day.

All she wanted was to hear those three words she felt like she hadn’t heard in forever. But every morning, she was disappointed to find that he had already left without even a "good morning."

When she returned from work, Jamal still wouldn’t be home. She knew his training sessions were intense, but she also knew he couldn’t possibly be training from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

She made him dinner every night, hoping they could share a moment together when he came home exhausted from practice. Instead, he’d arrive late at night, claiming he had been at the gym after training.

He no longer wrapped his arms around her at night. He hadn’t touched or kissed her in over two months. It felt like she was invisible to him, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to tell him how she felt, or she would have no choice but to let him go.

y/n sat in their living room, waiting for Jamal to come home. It was 10 p.m. After what felt like 100 episodes of her show, she finally heard his keys and the door opening. She remained seated on the couch, waiting for him. He walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there, watching TV.

“Hey,” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the couch and sitting down, keeping his distance from her.

She wanted to ask him about his day. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about the start of the season, especially given his incredible performance. But she didn’t. She just wanted to know what was going on and why he was avoiding her.

“We need to talk,” she said, looking at him intently, her voice blank and direct.

Jamal sighed, running his hands over his face, exhaustion clear in his features. “y/n, I’m tired. I just want to shower and go to sleep,” he said, already standing up to leave the room.

That’s what he always did, avoiding any conversation with her.

“No, Jamal. You’re not running away this time. We need to have a serious conversation, and you need to listen to me for once,” she said, standing up too, her voice tense with all the frustration she had been holding inside for so long.

He turned around, surprised by her outburst but clearly annoyed that he was going to have to talk. “What is it now?” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice weak and hurt.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who said we need to talk, and now you’re asking me what’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What’s wrong with us? What happened? Did I do something to upset you? Why are you avoiding me and acting like I don’t even exist in this house?” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“Oh my god. You’re always so needy, constantly craving attention. I can’t have you clinging onto me all day, y/n. I come home every night exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. But you’re there, nagging me because you can’t survive without attention. What am I supposed to do?” he shouted bitterly, stepping closer to her.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy! Just acknowledge me. Say good morning, make me coffee before you leave, tell me you love me at least!” she yelled back, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat.

Jamal was fuming, his face red with anger. She had never seen him like this before, and it scared her. He paced around the room, his steps heavy, before kicking a vase, shattering it to pieces. y/n flinched at the sound, stepping back slightly as Jamal moved closer.

“Please stop. You’re scaring me” she whispered as he stood in front of her, his face inches from hers. It was the closest he had been to her in weeks. She could feel the heat radiating from him, but his cold expression sent chills down her spine.

Jamal didn’t seem to hear her or care. Instead, he continued hurling hurtful words.

“I come home to rest. I don’t need anyone ruining my mood before I leave for training. I don’t need anyone distracting me from having my best season. So stop with the attention-seeking and deal with it. It’s not like I’m treating you as if you’re dead,” he spat, his words cutting deep into Y/N’s heart like knives.

She fought back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let him see her break.

“But you are, Jamal! You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t remember anything. You’ve forgotten our date nights, and we haven’t had a Sunday date in weeks. Sunday is your rest day, but instead of spending it with me, you choose to hang out with your friends, friends you see every day at training. Why can’t you acknowledge your girlfriend, who’s doing her best to stay calm and deal with the consequences of dating a footballer?” she cried, finally letting out all the words she had been holding inside for months.

“For fuck’s sake. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m going to shower and then go to sleep. I better not hear about this childish problem you’ve made up in your head again,” he said coldly, leaving the room and heading to their bedroom.

y/n collapsed on the couch, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into them, her heart aching.

She didn’t understand how Jamal had changed so much, why he had become like this. They had been dating for years, and every year he wanted to have a great season, but this was the first time he had acted this way. She felt their relationship slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

After crying for a while, exhaustion overtook her, and she wanted to sleep. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jamal after the hurtful things he had said. She began walking to the guest room when she heard his voice behind her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, making her turn to look at him. He stood there shirtless, fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dressed in the shorts he always wore to bed.

“To sleep in the guest room,” she replied, turning away.

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffed, and she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

She sighed and entered the cold, empty guest room, with only a bed in the middle. Lying down, she felt as though she were on a rock.

She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest, but after tossing and turning for hours, she gave up. She sat up, running a hand over her face, wondering if Jamal was struggling to sleep too.

A part of her hoped he was awake, thinking about her, just as she was about him. But she knew he was probably fast asleep, after using "needing sleep" as an excuse to avoid their argument.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up and saw Jamal peeking his head in to see if she was asleep. When he saw her sitting up, he entered the room slowly, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Can I... sleep next to you?” he asked nervously, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“I won’t touch you or anything. I’ll stay as far as I can,” he pleaded, his eyes begging for some rest.

y/n thought about it. She couldn’t sleep without him next to her either. “Please,” he said softly, and she finally gave in, nodding her head and moving to the far side of the bed, turning her back to him.

She felt the bed dip as Jamal lay down next to her. Even with the distance, she could feel the warmth of his body close to hers. y/n closed her eyes, hoping to finally get some sleep. As she drifted off, she felt his arm drape over her body, a small smile forming on her lips as she welcomed his warmth. She knew they would need to talk about their fight in the morning, but for now, they could rest.

Next morning, y/n had woken up by the sun that was shining in the guest room. She turned around, hoping Jamal was still next to her, but as usual, he had already left the room.

She let out a sigh, knowing he probably left to training too. She hoped he would stay and explain his hurtful words, but it seemed as if nothing happen to him last night. y/n entered the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth, before going to the kitchen.

She was surprised when she saw Jamal there, his shirtless back to her as he was making breakfast. When he noticed her, he smiled at her, making her more confused. "good morning darling. I made you coffee" he pointed to the cup of coffee that was next to the coffee machine.

Jamal moves quietly around the kitchen, the sound of eggs sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster filling the silence. y/n sat on the counter, the cup of coffee next to her, arms folded, watching him, her heart heavy with the weight of the argument that’s still fresh in her mind.

He seems to be gathering his thoughts, carefully plating the breakfast before he turns to her, his expression soft but full of regret.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I shouldn’t be trying to explain why I acted the way I did, because none of it excuses what I said or how I treated you. It was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to do any of that.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“But with the new coach and the new season, there’s been so much pressure. The coach has been really strict about us not getting distracted, and I... I let that get into my head.” he said, his voice weak and unstable.

y/n doesn’t respond right away, waiting for him to continue, her gaze steady as she takes in his words.

"I thought that maybe you were a distraction," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"But that was so wrong of me. All you’ve ever done is support me. You’ve been there through everything, my ups and downs, every game, every challenge, and instead of seeing that, I pushed you away. I don’t even know why I said the things I did... I just... I took my stress out on you, and I’m so sorry for that. I know it hurt you, and I regret it more than I can say.” he stuttered, seeming nervous

Her chest tightens, emotions swirling inside her as she thinks back to how hurt she felt. But she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.

“I shouldn’t have acted like football was more important than you," he continues, stepping closer.

"Because it’s not. You’re so important to me. Honestly, most of my success, it’s because of you. You keep me grounded, and your support means everything. It’s not just my talent that’s gotten me where I am, it’s you. And I was stupid for not seeing that." he said confidently, stepping closer to her

He looks at her, his eyes full of sincerity, waiting for some kind of response. She hesitates, his words slowly sinking in.

"You really hurt me, Jamal," she says softly. "It wasn’t just about football. It was about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was in the way." she said, her voice filled with pain.

He nods, a look of guilt flashing across his face.

"I know, and I’m going to spend every day trying to make up for it. I want to fix this. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again." he said honestly

There’s a pause before he speaks again, his voice even softer.

"I took the day off today. I thought maybe we could go for a walk, spend some time together, and get some ice cream, if you want? I just... I want to make it up to you." he hesitated, waiting for her to speak

She tries to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"You got me with the ice cream. I can’t say no to free ice cream." she jokes

He chuckles, though there’s still a seriousness in his gaze.

"I really am sorry. I swear to you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Football’s important, but so are you. More than that, you’re more important." he said, grabbing her hands in his

"i believe you Jamal. I hope you don't break your promise this time" she said, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back, squeezing her hands in his.

"you won't regret it i promise" he said

After breakfast, they walk side by side, hand in hand, talking and catching up on everything that’s happened since the argument.

Slowly, the tension between them begins to ease. As they sit on a park bench, ice creams in hand, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the warmth of the moment filling the space between them.

"I missed this," she says softly, closing her eyes as she let the comfort of his presence wash over her.

"I missed it too," he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on her head before resting his against hers.

Everything was fine now.