#like can football players not celebrate normally . can they not

[6ebe]

Argentina nt being reported to fifa by France for their players singing racist chants against the french team in celebration Spain nt being reported to uefa by Gibraltar fa for singing chants abt Gibraltar being Spanish in their celebrations it’s giving

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[enwoso]

Alessia Russo + reporter!gf, where Alessia is nonstop flirting with Reader on national television when you're trying to interview her

LIVE TO ALL — alessia russo

masterlist

you were a sports journalist for itv, travelling up and down the country as well as across the world each week to cover matches as well as try and get some of the players thoughts and opinions on the game.

today was the england lionesses vs sweden at home, at a sold out wembley. the game being tense but the girls pulling out a win by one goal and of course it being scored by non other than the alessia russo who just happened to be on your radar to interview.

normally it would take some convincing from some players to get them to do a quick post match interview, most players after a win wanting to celebrate and after a loss was when it was even harder to get players to interview as they just generally weren’t in the mood, understandably.

however luckily you wouldn’t have to do much convincing to get england’s star girl for an interview as she just so happened to also be your girlfriend. so one little bat of the eyelashes and a flash of the smile and the blonde would be right over.

so as your team handed her a mic as she walked over from the pitch hugging you tight as you sent her a loving smile trying your best to remain professional but the girl just looked so gorgeous even after running around a pitch for ninety minutes, her hair slicked back a few flyaways had came loose above her as well as her cheeks being slightly flushed pink probably from the amount of running she’d done.

“so alessia another sold out wembley for the lionesses, does the feeling ever change walking out and seeing that many people in the stadium?” you began the interview as alessia nodded along with what you were saying, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as you watched as her eyes roamed your face as she held her eye contact with you instead of the camera like she was supposed to.

there was a slight pause between your question and the blonde starting her answer, “oh um it definitely helps to keep us motivated whilst we are playing- as we love seeing our fans pack out stadiums and creating as much noise as possible!”

“speaking of motivation, what helps to keep you fired up especially when your playing top teams like sweden?” you asked as you seen alessia giggle to herself, you being thankful for the fact that the camera can’t see the look your throwing alessia right now.

“well away from football there’s definitely someone who does that for me-” the blonde making direct eye contact with you as a smirk crept onto her face. you knew exactly what she was insinuating on and while the your relationship wasn’t exactly out there it wasn’t a big secret either fans definitely had their suspicions and alessia right now was definitely adding fuel to that fire.

she carried on, you sending the blonde another stern look that told her to behave, “but the staff at england as well as the girls we all do our part to ensure that’s we can all play to the best of our ability to ensure we get the result that we want as a team and as a nation” she smiled innocently as she finished awaiting your next question.

you began to explain the importance of the goal that alessia scored to start off the lionesses euro qualifying campaign while alessia well she was just staring at you, totally zoned out as she licked her lips. her eyes scanning your outfit as she imagined maybe what it would look like on the floor of your shared bedroom…

“and finally how does it feel to finally get your first goal at wembley especially the one that sealed the win for you guys” you finished with a quick smile, slightly kicking the blonde which wasn’t able to be seen by the camera which shook the blonde from her daydream.

“oh- um, wait i- sorry what was the question?” alessia flushed red with embarrassment as you were the one now with a smirk, knowing by her face she hadn’t been listening and also having a suspicion of why she hadn’t been but nevertheless repeating the question again for her.

“yeah, it’s always a good feeling to score at wembley makes it that little bit special but anything to help the team out”

“well thank you alessia and well done for tonight!” you applauded with a smile as alessia nodded, “thank you babe” alessia said so causally, you quickly spinning around mouth wide open as you eyes widened.

the interview already been finished as your team off-mic’d you both. alessia with a smirk which was widening on her face, you knew she had done that on purpose.

“i love you?” she whispered, as she looked at your less than pleased look on your face.

“your on thin ice miss russo!” you warned narrowing your eyes at the blonde as she slung her arm around your shoulders guiding you both down the tunnel as you knew she was rolling her eyes at your stern tone.

“hey! it’s not my fault the person who was interviewing me happened to be my really sexy, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend!”

[doki-doki-imagines]

wc: 10k (next time I write this much shoot me down from the start) author note: wrote this to celebrate one year since I have been writing for bllk! Since my first post was about Sae I thought to celebrate with a fic about him. If you know me a bit, you know Sae is far from being one of my faves so I feel like a clown writing this much for him sob.

tw: none. 10k words of fluff more or less.

If you like my writing consider supporting me on ko-fi!

You are sitting on an iron bench, wet from head to toe, with no way to protect yourself from the incessant rain. Your makeup is ruined and tears can’t be discerned from the droplets of rain running down your face.

You look desperate and there is no need to look at your face to understand that, you supporting your head with your hands is enough, crouched on yourself, sighs sound dulled by the downpour.

“You look pathetic.”  It’s a familiar voice, one that makes your skin crawl and now increases your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You look up and you see him, in all his cold beauty. He is wearing a brown boiled wool coat, underneath a turtleneck black sweater peaking out. He is looking down at you, like a high-class rich when he sees a snotty kid, the grey umbrella covers a bit his face, but those ice irises pierce your figure anyway.

“Sae-“ You whisper out your voice full of disbelief and shame.

But how did you find yourself in such a miserable situation? We have to go back a bit.

One year ago

You have never been a fan of parties, they can be a good way to unplug your brain for a bit before going back to normal life. But after a while you need a break, the music and sweaty bodies overwhelm your senses. Your friend Elisa stays back, a guy caught her attention but she asks where you’ll go, in case she won’t see you for long.

You go outside, the cold breeze of winter hits your naked skin making you shiver, but at least you can now breathe. There is nobody else outside other than you and a red hair sitting on the small brick wall on the opposite side of the entrance. You decide to sit there too, at a safe distance not wanting to bother him but close enough to start a chat in case you stay there a little longer than needed.

You look around a bit, breathing in and out while you notice the leaves moving and bushes filled with trash. It’s not a great sight and for sure straining your sight for that doesn’t seem a good idea, so your eyes fall on the stranger sitting next to you. He is now checking his phone, red strands framing his face. You notice his long lashes, it’s always guys that have the crazy luck to have doe lashes, the lower ones touching the apple of his cheeks. He looks young, but he has a mature aura around him, an idea that comes from both his posture and his clothes. The sky-blue shirt he is wearing must be crazy expensive-

“Can you stop looking at me?” You widen your eyes, now comically big.

“You mean-“ You point a finger towards yourself, but you can’t finish the phrase that the guy snaps back.

“Yes, you. Stop looking at me.” He finally faces you, his teal eyes staring at you as you’d do with a cockroach; the same amount of disgust.

He stands up now in front of you “You must be the friend of my physiotherapist, right?”

You nod. After all, it is thanks to her if tonight you are here, at a party full of famous football players and hot beyond imagination models…you must stick out like a sore thumb.

“I guess you recognized who I am. Please, stop. I don’t want to know you, I don’t have time for a relationship.”

Your mouth is wide open.

“I don’t know who you are-“

“Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” He doesn’t even wave back, he just gives you his back and walks away.

You have never felt so angry in your life, and you had to deal with a lot of assholes to reach this point in your life.

You stomp inside, searching for Elisa to ask what the fuck is wrong with people and you find there, the guy from before still next to her but there are also other guys and girls and him. The first reaction is to walk away, possibly closing yourself inside the bathroom until they finished chatting or, at least, that guy walked away, but luck isn’t on your side your friend already waving at you signaling to go sit with her.

There is just your friend's body between you and that guy, but this time it’s your eyes that throw daggers at him every time he just even breathes your way; he doesn’t seem to care and it angers you even more.

“Oh let me present you to Sae! He is the football guy I work for!” She said looking at you with a smile that goes from one ear to the other, alcohol playing crazy tricks in her mind not to notice your cracked mood. You extend your hand, trying to be a decent person and you see him sighing. Why punching idiots is not acceptable in modern society? Maybe because you probably wouldn’t be able to stop, after hitting that ugly mug the first time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sae.” Your smile is fake, but you think you do a good job of hiding your feelings. The handshake is short, but while you tighten the grip to show you aren’t a weakling, the red hair slips his hand away the second your palms touch.

“Call me Itoshi.”

“Mh? Is that your name?”

“No, it’s my surname. I don’t like strangers to call me by my name.” He replies, back now hitting the red sofa of the club, looking somewhere on the dancefloor, probably at the butt of some dancer.

You look straight into the eyes of your friend and something finally clicks in her mind because you see cold sweat forming on her forehead after the interaction you had with Sae. No, wait. Itoshi.

“Well, guys-“ She claps her hand “it’s time for us to go, thanks for having us.” She stands up and you follow while she finishes to say goodbye to her colleagues. “See you tomorrow, Sae. Don’t exaggerate with drinks!” It’s clearly a joke, her tongue pokes out and Sae smiles back at her.

He would be cute. If only he isn’t such a shit. Your heart almost jumped with joy when the corner of his lips turned upwards, but your brain, thankfully reminded your body how he treated you a few minutes ago.

The walk towards your friend’s car is silent, the people inside the club making enough noise. Your silence gets broken when you enter the vehicle, before your friend can turn the engine on she stares at you.

“I leave you alone a few minutes and you get in a catfight with my client, really?” There is no real anger in her voice, knowing her position isn’t in danger. So you explode at her, telling her chapter and verse of what happened between you two.

“Is he always such an asshole? I feel sorry for you, I hope he pays you enough.” Your friend’s head hits the headrest, and a loud bubbly laugh escapes her mouth.

“Is he worse? Fuck maybe you should change job-“

“No, no. It’s that I invited you tonight because I hoped you could get together in the future.” Her voice is often broken by laughter and finally, anger free, you remember that she probably has drunk too much.

“Let’s switch, you are drunk.”

“No, c’mon. Sae is usually nice! He is a bit cold, but I thought a partner, or just a friend-” and it’s not hard for you to imagine he has nobody to talk with, every time he opens his mouth it’s the same as having two fingers in your eyes “You are also single, so I thought it could work out!” She slaps your shoulder and keeps giggling and now you are sure that you need to be the one to drive you both home.

“Don’t ever leave your job, you suck at playing Cupid-“ You giggle too, finally switching places and driving you both home.

The drive is filled with useless chatter, your friend seemed really into that dude of before, Leonardo is his name? Tomorrow with a more lucid mind you’ll dig more into your friend's new crush.

And you hope you’ll soon forget about that asshole of teammate too.

8 months ago

 When you return home after an intense day of work, the bare minimum you request is complete relaxation. No parties, no worries, no discussions; it’s the perfect way to welcome the weekend.

What you don’t want is to get jumpscared before you can even step in, a certain teal-eyed dude the first thing your eyes see.

“Fuck!” You are tempted to close the door, maybe it’s all your imagination and when you reopen he, the Itoshi, won’t be there anymore. But you don’t live in a fantasy world, sadly, so you know you’ll have the accept your fate.

“What happened?” It’s your friend’s voice screaming from the kitchen.

“Nothing, I’ve just seen a cockroach.” You reply with a monotone voice, closing the door with your foot.

You look better at the intruder, sitting on your couch. One hand has the remote, zapping between the channels, the other lying on the top of the furniture, fist keeping up his head.

He turns to look at you “Did you see yourself in the mirror?” And the sudden urge to hit him with the house key pervades your body. You groan at his comment, but decide to drop the topic; you have no energy to get angry.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you before but Sae is staying with us this week. His apartment is flooded and all his teammates couldn’t help him out.” She comes into the living room with a bowl of…freshly cut vegetables? You suppose it was your guest's request, as much as Elisa likes carrots there is no way this was a choice born from her brain.

Now you know why she didn’t tell you anything about it. You would have taken a hotel room and made Elisa pay for it if you knew what was going on. He, at least, thanks her and it surprises you because you thought he didn’t know what manner are. Or common courtesy.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” You sigh, your mind already adjusted to the idea of having that dude in your house. ‘It won’t be forever. Calm down. Don’t shout, don’t get angry.’ You repeat to yourself while wearing the comfiest pj in your wardrobe; you need it.

When you go back into the living room the film was already chosen, but you don’t mind, so tired that you know you’ll fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. The chat gets louder and definitely pick your interest.

“We both go to medical field universities! I finished my studies at home and as you know I work here, but-“ Elisa points her index finger at your figure, a fluffy cover hiding your body all crouched up on a side of the couch not to touch, or just get near, the guest “She is still studying to become a doctor! She will stay here one year and then she will need to go back home to finish her studies, right?”  You nod at your friend's words, now looking at the film.

“The film isn’t bad.” You whisper, humming in agreement.

“It was my choice.” A deeper voice replies back, it’s Sae.

You look at him until you meet his teal eyes. You see an equal amount of tiredness in his eyes and you seem to silently agree not to sassy reply back.

You are able to look at the film without falling asleep, at times you can feel Elisa asking stuff to Sae but you are too distant to understand what they say.  There is a pang of jealousy that stabs your heart, usually, you chat with Elisa while watching films and you don’t like the idea of being substituted by him.

You try to brush away the feeling. Maybe she is the one who has a crush on him, and even if you think she has questionable taste you won’t put yourself against their love. You yawn the second the end credits start to roll. You decide to go to bed, since you have no strength to add yourself to their pillow-talk, in the shared room you have to Elisa.

“I’ll come soon too.” She whispers while you nod, walking away; probably she wants a moment with her crush. You don’t even hear her opening the door, your brain voyaging dreamland the second your head hit the pillow.

You are the first to wake up in the morning, you step toward the kitchen trying not to wake up your roommate, and start to prepare coffee for the both of you. You are so used to making it that it becomes an automatism. It’s when the moka is on the fire that you start to look around, noticing a package that definitely wasn’t yours or of Elisa.

“That’s mine.” You hear croaking behind you, the sound makes you jump on your place.

“Yeah, it seemed pretty obvious. What is it? Some kind of tea?”

“Yes, it is salted kombucha tea. Want to try it?”

You snort and Sae looks at you questioningly, probably thinking his pronunciation is wrong.

“I hate tea. I’m team coffee.” You say pointing with your thumb to the moka, now gurgling a sign that your coffee is ready. Sae looks at you with disgust, a face you know pretty well by now.

“We are really different.”

“I was thinking that too.” You say now giving him the back to take the cups on the high shelf, a spoonful of sugar in your cup, nothing in Elisa's one.

Meanwhile, he has moved, opening the window of your kitchen. Summer is starting but the weather is still acceptable, morning breeze is a nice way to freshen the house.

“You want to make your own tea or I can do it for you? Do you trust me?” You say smirking, already knowing the answer.”

“I prefer to make it myself.”

You nod, a Chesire smirk plastered on your face. You point out where he can find the kettle, now sitting on the table, right next to the window, your head supported by your right hand.

He soon sits in front of you with his cup of tea, he looks outside for a moment, giving you the possibility to admire his features again.

He has a nice jaw, his skin is pretty smooth, probably he doesn’t have much beard, his upper lip is arched perfectly, his lips plump but not too big or better, they suit his face. His nose is slightly pointed upwards-

“You like to stare.”

Your head slid comically; you got caught, again.

“It happens when I look at beautiful stuff.” Really, the comment slips from your mouth before you can bite your tongue. But you feel him choking on his tea and it soothes the pain.

“You are also bold.” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, with such hatred in his eyes you almost worry to have done something way worse than throwing a compliment in his way.

“I just like to joke around.” You smile in your cup, a smile that grows wider when his eyebrows comically drop.

You hear him clicking his tongue, but you don’t say anything more.

You both finish your beverages, but Elisa is still sound asleep.

“Shouldn’t you wake her up?”

“Today is her free day, let her relax a bit.” You reply, putting his cup into the dishwasher.

You see uneasiness in his eyes, there is something he needs to tell you, so you make the first move as a good host.

“Is there something you need?”

“Usually I do yoga and meditate. Can you go out.” He formulated it as a request, but it sounded like an order in your ears.

“Can’t you do it in the living room? Or your bedroom?” You propose.

“My bedroom is too small. There are no windows in the living room and I’d prefer to breathe fresh air.”  You nod, his reasoning makes sense and there isn’t else you need to do in the kitchen.

“Can you teach me?” You propose half to piss him off, half because you suffer from terrible neck pain and you know yoga could help you out.

You notice how bad he takes it and you bask in the sensation of being finally able to take a rise of him.

“Don’t you have to go to university? Or I don’t know, student stuff?” He says it fast and makes you chuckle.

“It’s too early! I have all the time of the world now.” You get near him, trying to muster up the nicest puppy eyes ever done “I swear I’ll be a good student and won’t joke around.”

“No.”  Your nice façade drop.

“You are a real pain.”

“Look at yourself before saying that.” He looks at you with the same eyes as your encounter. The best choice is to leave him alone, and you do, but not without grumbling.

When you enter your bedroom Elisa is wide awake, already dressed for the day reading a book, a fantasy you guess knowing her taste.

“Mh? Elisa why are you here? You didn’t want to have breakfast with Mr. Sourpuss?” She clearly didn’t notice you entering the bedroom. She closes the book and smiles at your comment.

“I didn’t want to bother your bonding time.” She sing-sangs, book placed on the night table.

“Is this a way to force me to like your new boyfriend?”  Your eyes pierce her figure, muscles tense, trying to grasp any twitch or wince on her face. But nothing comes, if anything she replies to you with a pure laugh, not a fake one.

“I don’t see Sae that way, you dunce-“ Elisa stands up, hands now on your shoulders shaking you “I really think you can get along, please give him a chance.” She says exasperated.

“Tell him that, he is always an ass with me, and please-“ You say removing her hands from your shoulders “Stop playing Cupid, it’s really not your job.” You go towards your wardrobe ready to change for the day while Elisa keeps whining but no words get registered in your brain.

You don’t see anybody for lunch, so you spend a quiet afternoon at home, reviewing your notes and refreshing the lesson of the previous day.

Elisa is the first to come home, there is still light outside thanks to the longer summer days and she helps you out cooking dinner.

“We have to cook something healthy, you know-“ She winks “For our guest.”

Damn, for a second you forgot about him. “Shouldn’t he cook? So we are sure to prepare the right stuff.”

“I don’t know how to.” You hear from the living room, it’s his voice. You walk to the living room and you see him, freshly showered you guess from the soft soap smell coming from him and with two bags containing what you guess is food.

“I asked my private chef to cook for all of us.” He says placing the bag on the coffee table in the living room.

“Thanks, Sae!” Elisa says “Let me take these to the kitchen, I’ll prepare the table.”

“Do you need help?” Elisa brushes off your question “I know how to put a tablecloth and cutlery.”

To you, it sounded like an excuse to make you stay alone with the redhair.

“Thanks, Itoshi.” You hate how his surname rolled on your tongue, but you had to accept it.

He nods, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You don’t miss to notice how at home he already feels; for sure he has good adaptation skills.

“So, how was your day?” You try to small chat, to break the unbearable silence it was already forming.

“Like always.” His answer is curt, but you can’t understand if it is because he doesn’t want to talk or just because it is him.

“And yours?” This surprises you.

“It was a good day. I was able to take a lot of good notes and the lesson was interesting.”

He nods at your words “I suppose it is hard.”

“Yes, but it is also really rewarding. For example-“ You start to blabber, and you notice it but you can’t stop, excitement guiding you even if you know your interlocutor has little to no interest in what you are saying. Embarrassing.

“Hey! It’s ready.” It’s Elisa that save you, stopping your blabbering. “What were you talking about?” She asks, curiosity evident.

You’d like to reply but you are too astonished by the food in front of you. Everything looked mouth-watering, you didn’t even know food could get such vivid colors, not to talk about the smell-

“She was telling me about her cardiac surgery lessons.” Sae replies for you, thankfully your eyes are already comically wide thanks to the food in front of you so nobody notices your surprise at his words.

So he was listening?

“Oh! I’m happy you are finally knowing each other, but now let’s eat! We don’t want the food to get cold.” You both nod at Elisa words and damn the food was as beautiful as it was delicious. There is not much chat, enjoying the meal in silence, just the background sound of the television to keep you company.

“Hey, you should accompany Sae to the aquarium one of these days.” Elisa says with a voice full of cheer. It doesn’t take much for you to understand where she took that idea, the advertisement of the aquarium still going on television.

“Well, it all depends on Sae, he has really strict hours-“

“Let’s go tomorrow. I have no training to do.” He says, no real force behind his words like he is just accepting his fate.

You gasp a bit “Oh, okay then. Is it fine in the afternoon?”

He nods, slurping down some of his cold noodles, you can only wish your technique will ever be as good as his, not a single drop of oil staining his shirt or mouth.

The dinner ends quietly, you place the crockery in the dishwasher and go directly into your bedroom.

The morning comes awfully quick and you feel even more tired than when you went to sleep. You proceed with your morning routine, not Elisa nor Sae insight so you take it easy. After you prepare yourself you go back to your books, your attention often grasped by anything going on.

Your attention gets caught one more time by a notification on your phone; it’s Eliza.

“Got a cute lunch date with a cutie. Try not to kill Sae and have a nice date <3” Ugh. She can be so pushy at times. You sigh and notice the hour, it’s time to eat.

When you enter the living room you notice Sae already made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I tried to be silent. I was doing yoga so I didn’t make much sound.” He replies, boredom dripping from his voice as usual. You nod “Are we blessed again by your chef's food today or I’m on my own?”

“The latter.”

“Oh! Can I make you piadina? It’s an easy dish to make.”

He turns around, teal eyes finally looking at you “What are the ingredients?”

“It’s easy! It’s more or less a circle of bread that gets folded this way and you can choose how to fill it.” You walk near him and show him the screen of your phone, the picture on it the perfect example of a perfect piadina.

“So…I can choose something different than fried potato, right?”

“Yes, you fill it with whatever you want. Simply sausage and fried potatoes with pepperoni is a classic match.” He looks at you with disgust, and at this point it makes you laugh.

“Not a fan? I swear the match is heavenly.”

“Aren’t you a doctor? You should know fried potatoes are toxic to the body.” This time you chuckle out loud.

“Fried potatoes are the last thing you should worry about between the ingredients I told you. And anyway-“ You sign to him to walk with you towards the kitchen “You won’t die eating it once in a while.”

“I don’t know anything about this stuff. I just go with what my manager and dietologist tell me.” He replies, pointing to the fridge with the ingredients he wants.

“No? For real?” You start to cook his one, the guest always comes first.

“Yeah, other than football I don’t know much else.” You notice a hint of sadness in his voice, irises darkening a bit and it tickles something in the back of your brain.

“Well, next time why don’t you help me cook? You may have a personal chef but it is nice to have different skills.”

He nods, he doesn’t burst with joy, but he seems serious. You give him his dish, arugula, and tomatoes. You do the same, half because you like the match and the other half because you don’t want to prepare other ingredients.

You eat in silence, something you already expected.

“Are you ready to go to the aquarium?” You ask, putting the dish in the dishwasher.

He nods giving you his one. Previously Sae asked you if you wanted to go by car “If you don’t trust me I can always call my driver” but you refused his offer, telling him that you’d bring him there gladly and with the perfect vehicle for such a sunny day.

“Good, get ready because my vehicle is amazing.” He bends his head a little, confused by your words, but doesn’t inquire more. He supposes it will be a surprise.

For sure it is a surprise, but not the good kind.

“It’s a bike.” His voice drips venom, but you brush it off.

“Not just a bike, it’s a graziella! Perfect to carry people on the back!” You say, slapping the bike rear-rack.

“It’s too low, it will be uncomfortable for my legs.” He retorts but you don’t desist, smiling back at him.

“In fact, you don’t have to sit, you have to stand up on it on completely trust my skills.” The face he makes is pure comedy, it’s a mixture of scared, anger and, as always, disgust. “C’mon mister Itoshi. I swear you can trust me, not even a bug will hit your precious legs, let alone the ground.” You hear him gulp and see the gears in his brain running, you wait a few seconds but the answer finally arrives.

“Okay, but if something happens to me you’ll pay with interest.” You nod and smile back sitting on the saddle. You soon feel the bike moving under you with the added weight. You start to pedal not wanting to lose balance and make you both fall on the ground and his hands immediately find support on your shoulder, gripping tight on them.

“Let’s go!” You shout, the bike is harder to manage but you push forward. The ride is silent, the summer breeze dancing around you two, only gasps can be heard from the guy standing on the back when you take a hole making both the bike and Sae jump. His hands aren’t as tight on you anymore, probably he is trying to trust you as best as he can, it’s pleasing to think he is starting to trust you, the feeling runs to your head becoming a pink fog that makes you feel dangerously well and uncaring. You are sure you would look like a postcard if someone took a photo right now, you feel so peaceful that it’s hard to imagine you look bad right now.

Dangerous because you almost don’t notice that you arrived at the aquarium, pulling harshly on the brakes almost making your guest jump off the bike if it wasn’t for his hands harpooning your shoulders.

“Sorry-“ You say in between your teeth, wincing at your mistake. You hear him scoff but he decides to not salt in the wound.

“Put the bike there, I’ll pay for the tickets.”

“Are you sure? I can pay for my own-“ He doesn’t even listen to you, walking to the ticket office without looking back at you once.

The visit was actually really fun, for you at least, Sae never expressed any kind of emotions, the corners of his lips a line that never twitched upwards or downwards. You see teals eyes looking around, but it seems nothing catches his attention. At least he stops when you ask, not a groan of disapproval, not a happy smile either.

“I like penguins.”  You say looking at the glass separating you from the cute bird wobbly on its feet. A gasp of surprise escapes your mouth when one of them dives into the salty water to stop exactly in front of you. You pull at the end of Sae’s shirt, the excitement going straight to your head, too busy being ‘a finger apart’ than ruining your guest's clothes. You shout in happiness but the sound is drowned by the squalls of kids around you.

“I can see.” Finally, a hint of a smile appears on his face, but you are now too busy looking back at the penguins to notice it. Meanwhile, Sae is too busy looking at the features of your face, looking for once at you, not looking down on you. The blue and soft lights of the aquarium make you look like a dream, the joy in your eyes matching your smile.

Something moves inside him, it’s pleasant but it fades in a snap of a finger when you face him again, prompting him to walk towards the next glass. You talk about colorful jellyfish or something like that. It’s not that he is interested in anything there. After all, he accepted Elisa’s offer not to sound too rude even for his standard. But he thinks, that moment of happiness on your face was in part worth the deal.

Not that you’ll notice head entirely elsewhere.

“It was nice. Thanks for paying.” You are now outside, bike on hand while you walk near the seashore. The wind is stronger there, and more than once you shrink in your place, while the guy next to you is perfect, as always. A porcelain doll crafted by the most expert hands ‘too bad they didn’t lose another minute to work on his personality, tho’ you think.

“No problem. Can we stay here a minute longer?” Sae asks, but he is already still, as always it was an order, not a question. You nod, the sun is setting, painting the sea warm colors, waves are big but reduced to nothing when they arrive so near your feet. You see him breathing in, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.

“Do you like the sea, Itoshi?”

“Yes. I used to always visit the beach with my brother.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a sibling! Is he hot?” You chuckle, blossoming in full laughter after he sides eye you, annoyance mixing with the green of his eyes.

“He isn’t your type.” He clicks his tongue “You like handsome guys and he is not.” His voice is flat, as usual.

“Handsome guys? Yeah, I like them, obviously but why do you have this idea of me?”

“Simple-“ a smile, a real one, grace his features “You like me.” You gasp at his world, pushing his shoulder, but his body barely move.

“Mister Itoshi, your ego is way too big!” You puff out your cheeks, but there is no real anger in your words.

“Sae.”

“Mh?” The silence lasts very little but it feels like an eternity.

“Call me Sae.” His teal eyes link with yours. His voice is low, serious and makes your knees wobble a little. He looks happy, the sun painting beautiful shades on his fair skin. It’s honestly a breathtaking sight.

“Okay, Sae. Your ego is still too big!” You break the tension, too heavy all of a sudden. Too intense for two strangers who couldn’t even suffer each other.

Just too much.

The spell is broken and you see him wince, ‘probably he didn’t want to sound so intense’ you think telling him to go back home. The ride is silent, when midway it’s Sae who decides to talk.

“Why are people looking at us weird?”

“Maybe because you are a football superstar?”

“No, the look when people recognize me is different.”  You hum, but you come up with another motivation quick.

“Maybe because you are the one being carried! Usually is the guy that carries around the woman.” You state, no malice in your words. He is silent for a few seconds.

“Let’s switch.”

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t care about this-“

“I said stop pedaling and switch places with me.”

“Stop ordering me around! Plus if you have never done that there is no way you can keep me-“

“If you don’t switch I’ll jump off the bike, I’ll hurt myself and do you remember what you promised me this afternoon?” You feel more of his weight on your shoulders like he wants to remind you of his upper position, just figurately now “I’ll make you you pay, remember?” It’s the same voice he used on you the first time you met and it made you reflexly pull the brakes, this time slower so he could jump off without any risk.

He sits on your place and clicks his head, as a sign for you to stand on the back.

“But if you hurt me? What do I gain?” Your voice is wobbly, not trusting him at all. Your hands grip tightly on his shoulders and you are sure there will be a red sign there tomorrow.

“I’ll kiss it better. Now shut up.” He starts pedaling, not checking you once. For sure you didn’t like his answer but jumping off now sounded like a good way to sprain your ankle.

“Do you know at least the road to go home!?” He takes a hole and makes you jump, you suppose it’s the karma for how you drove before

“…okay. Talk just to tell me where to go.”

You arrived home, safe and sound. You don’t kiss the ground just because you don’t want to act overdramatic, but feeling the ground under your feet with no wounds on your legs seems a real miracle. Elisa welcomes you both with a big smile, her eyes are tired but you notice a drop of happiness in her eyes so you do not worry. The week goes by naturally. You and Sae don’t banter as often, but calling what you have a friendship would be a stretch, Elisa still tries to push you into something more, but her attempts are failures, if not disasters most of the time. Thankfully Sae doesn’t dig further, not that he cares since he is so sure you have a mind-numbingly, heart-shattering crush on him anyway.

The real surprise comes when he goes back home, everyone is back to their normal life ‘till one day receives a message from an unknown number. It’s not a text, but a picture of you two, of when you were going to the aquarium since you were the one pedaling. There are ginormous texts on the sides probably it has been published by one of those gossip magazines you tend to avoid.

“Who are you?” You text back, and an answer will not be long in coming.

“Sae. Elisa gave me your number.”  You smile thinking how happy she probably was when Sae asked for it. She was probably giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Why did you contact me? It’s a problem if we were seen together?”

“No” A dry texter, exactly what you expected.

“Then let me say; we really looked beautiful.” You write it with a heart bursting in happiness. You both looked happy, your faces radiating joy. You may not be an earth-shattering beauty but nobody would have been able to sincerely say you looked bad.

“We did.”

You are happy to know he feels the same.

5 months ago

You are at a beach party. Honestly, you would rather be somewhere else but after closing yourself for two months at home to pass your exams you need a bit of fresh air. Summer is now leaving its place to autumn, the days are still long, but at least the temperature is acceptable. Stars are shining high in the sky and everyone seems to enjoy the party. You wear a cute dress, ‘the one for good occasions’ you repeat to yourself. It’s not tight, the skirt is large enough that you can easily move around, but it hugs your waist before getting larger again on the chest area-

“Hey-“ Elisa elbows you “Sae is sitting on the couch all alone, why don’t you keep him company.” She laughs but this time it isn’t for the alcohol; she is just dumber because she could get with her crush, Leonardo. Actually, he was the one to set the party all teammates and their partners invited. You actually came thanks to Elisa's invite, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t matter seeing Sae.

Something more keen to a friendship developed between you two during these months, the messages you exchanged a clear sign. What surprised you the most was that he also was the one to start conversations, asking if you were fine, checking if everything was okay. You had no other occasion to meet in person, between matches and studies you both had your hands full, so you don’t mind actually catching up with him.

“Hey sourpuss, it has been a while!” You plop down on the couch next to him. He widens his eyes in surprise, looking like a scared kitten, before returning to the bored expression, not even greeting you.

“Not even a hello? Bad night for our Casanova?” You chuckle as he clicks his tongue knowing full well you are teasing him.

“You know I’m not interested in a romantic relationship.” He is bored out of his mind and you decide to tease him some more…maybe you drunk too much.

“Well, it seems to me you are liking that girl over there. Your eyes are glued to her-“ You can’t finish the phrase, his index finger pressing against your lips.

“I never thought you were one for physical contact.”

“Never know you liked to drink this much either.” He takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip from it. “It actually tastes good.”

“I know it, you big bully! I just wanted to cheer you up and I get treated this way.” You whine. The redhead looks at you for a minute too long, pondering what to do, when his hand decides to find the crown of your head, patting you.

“Shh baby, everything is fine.” It’s a smile full of mirth and it reminds you that he is really handsome, in case your memory fails you. You must look like a pathetic cat in front of him, all pouty and a bit stupid thanks to alcohol.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You whisper out, but for sure he could hear it, getting closer to you. This time you don’t see any mirth in his eyes, back to his usual seriousness so you decide to be direct with your feelings. “I missed you. That week living together made me really change my opinion of you.” This time you don’t whisper and you see Sae getting taken back by your words, batting his long lashes at your words. You can’t hold his gaze so you fix yourself on the fire in front of you, made to perfectly set the beach party atmosphere.

“Then we should meet more often.” You look back at him, but this time it’s Sae looking elsewhere, not at a specific person on the dancefloor, simply looking in front of him. “Taken with moderation it’s nice talking with you.” It’s his usual sarcasm and you feel melting, like he just removed a heavy weight you didn’t even know to carry.

“Okay, let’s promise!” You hold your pinky out and it makes Sae raise his eyebrow.

“I appreciate you wanting to integrate my culture, but we stop doing that after elementary sch-“

“Shhh, don’t break the magic! Just do it!” He sighs before rolling his eyes but at the end, he gives up intertwining your pinkies together.

“From now on we promise to see each other more often, like good friends!” The words roll from your mouth carelessly, even if you are serious about it. You feel Sae tightening your grip on your pinkie at the ‘good friends’ part but you don’t give it much importance.

“Are you next week?”

“Yes, I am now that exams ended! Do you have something in mind?” You ask a bit too excited.

“My manager told me to participate in a cooking video or something along those lines. He said it would be good for my image and they pay a lot, but-“

“You hate not being prepared, right?” You interrupt “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a mouth-watering recipe!” And you compliment yourself for being really smooth when your hand, linked to his just by your pinkie, perfectly slides to hold it, palm to palm but not bold enough to intertwine fingers. Sae doesn’t jerk away from your touch if anything holding your hand tighter before nodding at your words. He holds your gaze and just then you notice how close his face is to yours, how there is just a whiff separating your lips…

“It’s time for the toasts! Everyone come!!” The shout of one of Sae's teammates awakes you both from the moment separating you two as quickly as you got near to each other. You don’t talk much to each other the rest of the night and you decide not to overthink what just happened, you probably drank too much and he probably was too tired to tell you to step back. For sure beach liked to play tricks on you.

Obviously, not overthinking was easier said than done, even with a pounding headache your mind started to wander and it only got worse when Sae texted his free day, to which you replied with a thumbs up. You aren’t worried about the recipe to make him cook, you have done it countless times and your mother sent you the right ingredients not so long ago. You are worried because maybe you are harboring feelings for him and you’d hate to tell him he was right all along. You can already see his smile, going from one ear to the other; you can accept being rejected, but not being made fun of.

Thankfully Lady Luck is on your side the day you finally meet up, but in a wicked way, making the chain of your bike drop something you had never to deal with. So when you hear the bell ringing your mind goes in tilt not being able to choose if panicking for your bike or for the guy in front of your door.

“Hi Sae.” You whisper out, leaning on your door.

“You are dirty.”

“Is this some new kind of dirty talking-“ He pushes you to the side, entering the house.

“So what happened? You look like a flea that just swam in petroleum.” 

“You are always so delicate Sae.” You slump your shoulders before explaining what happened “I tried to watch a video to fix it myself but it was no use.”

“I can help, where is the bike?” You look up, hope shining in your eyes.

“Oh the garage is the first left door at the end of the corridor, but are you sure-“  Sae already walked away, the squeak of the garage door telling you he got the right door.

When you reach him he is already on his knees, fingers deftly working to put the greasy chain in its place.

 “Done.” He flips the bike as easily as you’d flip a pancake, not even a sneer of fatigue appears. “Anything else?” You are shocked by how fast he fixed it.

“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t know anything other than football?”

“Yeah, but I had a childhood too. My little brother always messed it up. Do you have anything to wash the grease off?” You nod wanting the clean yourself up too.

“Now that we are all cleaned up, let’s cook! Today I want to teach you how to make tortellini, a type of stuffed pasta, have you ever heard of it?” The red hair waves his head left and right, you see curiosity in his eyes and it makes something bubble in you. “I have already done the filling, it’s easy to make later I’ll tell you the ingredients, but now let’s focus on the dough. As you can see I did a little fountain with the flour and we will have to put the yolks and the eggs white inside, like this-“ You show it to him, his teal eyes still fixed on your movements “Now grab a fork and start to mix, not everything together, just a bit and then always more until you can start to knead with your hands.” This is the worst part, the dough is hard and you need a lot of strength to mix it to perfection. “Wanna give me a hand?” You gasp already tired. He nods, but you didn’t expect him to help in this way.

His right hand locks with yours, the other already at the bottom of the dough, and his chest is impossibly close to your back. You feel his chin on top of your shoulder, his breath hitting your neck.

It’s intimate, too intimate for your standards.

“H-Hey thanks but you don’t need to hug the chef to do it, you know?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to move your head far from his, but his body caging you doesn’t let you move far.

“Mh? Sorry I thought it could work better. Feeling how your fingers work on the dough and everything.” It sounds like a poor excuse even for your ears, but you brush it off his arms not blocking you anymore; probably he just needed affection or something like that.

You move to the side, watching him knead, but your eyes soon travel up, to his face noticing a new detail…

“You have freckles?”

“I get them when I tan, I hate them.” The corner of his plush lips turn downwards, his hands working harsher on the dough.

“Why? They make you more human.”

“What are you saying? That I’m a cyborg?” He stops, green irises gazing straight into yours.

“I’m saying that looking ‘imperfect’ makes you more beautiful Sae.” You say it as a universal truth, your voice doesn’t waver, and your eyes don’t either. This time it’s he who has to break the eye contact, you see him biting his inner cheek.

“So now?” He points at the dough.

“Now we have to roll it out. We should use a rolling pin, but it is too much of a pain so we’ll use another device-”

“No, let me do the old way. I’m not a weakling like you.” His voice drips of malice and the urge to knock his head with the rolling pin is harder than ever.

“Okay then, use it. I’m curious to see how you’ll handle it.” Sae takes it from your hand and tries to use it. The shape wouldn’t even be bad if it wasn’t so poorly distributed, some places thin others awfully thick, plus you can see he isn’t using the right muscles, making him more sore than he should be.

“You are terrible, can’t you see it all has different thickness? Move let me show you how to do it.” You push him away, no real force In your movement but he moves away, giving you the rolling pin with a provocative demeanor. “We say you have to make love with the dough, use your hips like this and you won’t have to use all your arm strength. Now do it.” You give the utensil back, Sae nods eyes filled with concentration.

Too bad he keeps making the same mistake. You click your tongue “Sae, do I have to teach you how to make love?” You snicker when he sides-eye you.

“Okay  mister icicle, let me show you again how to do that.” Your hands lay on his hips but you look at his face to understand if you crossed any boundary, but he doesn’t say anything, to say the truth he doesn’t even look at you, so you take it as consent. “Instead of using just your arm strength, help yourself with a push of the hips like this-“ You move it synched with his hands twice, before letting go of the hold you have on him. “Yeah, that’s exactly how you should do it!” You notice Sae smiling, it lasts very little but it is there and you feel really proud of his work.

Then you teach him how much filling is needed inside and how to close them up.

“I can’t do it, my fingers are too chubby, see?” The half-made tortellino’s dough tears in his hands that are, in fact, a bit too chubby to deftly close it.

“Hey, don’t trash it away! You can’t fix it but you can always have…an early taste.” You reply, winking at him.

“But won’t it be dangerous? The filling is cooked, but the pasta-“

“I swear you won’t die superstar, I’ve done it countless times and I’m as healthy as you are.” You say smacking his shoulder, but by the look, the redhair isn’t fully convinced. “C’mon try it!” You spur him like a granny urging her nephew to eat her home-cooked meal.

The shine in Sae’s eyes after the bit of food hit his tastebuds is a telltale sign that you really nailed the recipe. Not that you had any doubt to start with.

 You finish closing them up and invite him for dinner telling him that Elisa is out so she won’t mind. Sae refuses your offer, his manager needs to see him so they’ll dine together.

“Well at least bring back home a bag of these!”

“Won’t you die of starvation?”

“Don’t act stupid, I won’t give you them all, I’m not that nice!” You prepare two servings “In case you want to share a meal with a special guest.” He replies with a huff, but you don’t care, knowing well how he can be.

“See you soon Sae.”

“If that raw pasta will kill me my lawyer will bang at your door.” He replies already out and walking towards the driver he called before.

“Don’t be overdramatic, it doesn’t suit you, ice man.” He smiles back at you behind the window of his car but you can’t see him since it is tinted.

From that day you don’t hear him until the famous cooking video he told you about appear on your screen. Obviously, they made him cook something way easier, too bad he had a blindfold on and his teammate had to tell him what to do.

“I hope your teamwork works better on the football field.” You text him, a winking emoji at the end.

His answer doesn’t long in coming “Worry more about your exams.” It hurts you more than being run over by a car.

3 months before

“Sae can you pick me up?”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing that bad, but could you?”

“Send me your position, I’m coming.”

“Thanks” You sniff.

You are not used to crying, or better, you are not used anymore. Years of university thickened your skin enough to be able to deal with most wounds.

Most, not all.

You studied hard for this exam, it was one of the few ones you had to do to finally get your degree, one step closer to reaching your dream. But you failed it, and now you’ll have to wait months before being able to take it again. You didn’t meet with anybody, barely talked with Elisa, and you share a bedroom with her, skipped meals to be sure not to lose time, and repeated the paragraphs till your voice gave out.

All of this for a fist of nothing.

You cried and gasped the moment you were far enough from the classroom. Weakness isn’t accepted and pity is a sign you won’t survive long in this world; this is what you’ve been taught. You forgot how shit you could feel while crying, how lonely you are. You wanted to call your parents, they have always been good at reassuring you, but then Sae's name was the first contact to appear and you clicked without thinking twice.

Maybe harsh love is what you need.

You regret your choice the second you hear the first thrill. He must be training, maybe he is in the sweet company of someone, you can already hear his ice-cold voice snapping at you for bothering him. But you don’t have the time to close the call, Sae picked it up and was coming to help.

You recognize the car, it was the same one that picked him up when he went back home from his house, but this time he is the one driving.

“Come in.”

You sit on the soft leather. While you waited for him you tried to dry up your tears to improve your current condition, but to no avail; eyes still red and puffy and some tears still escaping.

“Are you bri-bringing me home?” You brokenly say between gasps.

“No. What happened?” Sae’s eyes stay fixed on the road, raindrops fall on the windshield, ironic how the weather matches your mood.

He snaps his fingers in front of you, bringing you back to earth so you start to tell him what happened.

“I know I must sound so-so dumb but-“ Gasps keep interrupting you “I feel like a failure. Maybe I am.” You look at him, your vision is foggy due to the new tears, but this time he looks back at you. You didn’t even notice he stopped the car, now off the road.

But what it comes to surprise you. No harsh words, no sarcasm.

Sae hugs you, hands patting your back.

“Everyone fails, even cyborg guys like me. Everything can be fixed and a little misstep on the road doesn’t define you as a person.” He pulls away, face relaxed, and goes back to driving.

“One hamburger and a chips portion.”

Were you parked in a fast-food lot? You were so out of your mind and outside is so dark that you didn’t notice. You have been silent, still recovering from the hug and those words that sounded so encouraging and not like Sae at all.

“Why the chips? You don’t like them.” It’s the first thing you are able to blabber, at least you didn’t stutter anymore.

“This isn’t for me. It’s for you.” The redhair says putting the paper bag on your legs “Junk food can be nice once in a while. And stop crying-“ the back of his curled index finger swipes away a lone tear running down your face “I hate looking at ugly stuff and tears reduce you to a really ugly mess.” 

Ah, the old Sae is back. You can finally recognize him, with all his rude comments. But something inside you blossoms while he drives you back home and you bite into your hamburger.

Does it mean he finds you beautiful every other time? You feel blood running to your face for a minute you hear a whistle in your ears, but you impose yourself not to bash your head around it. Now you have to find a nice way to explain the situation to Elisa without making her worried sick and hide who brang you home to avoid her dumb smile and endless teasing that would come your way. You look outside the car window, mind already wandering somewhere else.

In the end, Elisa discovered everything, for sure Sae insisting on bringing you inside crumbled to pieces your plan, and your mood was too devasted to be able to efficiently hide your feelings. At least your attention wasn’t on the football star anymore.

Your mind already planned to think about them for the next weeks anyway.

Today. Night

“I suppose the date didn’t go as planned.” Sae doesn’t move, no intention of shielding your body under the umbrella.

“No, but it was my fault.” ‘Because I’m in love with you’ you add in your brain. “You want to know what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Bad for you because I’ll tell you anyway.” You joke between gasps. Sae doesn’t move away but he keeps looking down on you. “He was so nice, he took me to the restaurant and even wanted to pay. The small talk was incredible and we have a lot in common-“ You look down, not able to keep his gaze “But my heart is for someone who considers me barely a friend-“ Your hands now cover your face “And then when I arrived here to cry in peace a couple walked in front of me being all cute and I crumbled.”

“It could have been us.”

“Umh?” You can finally gaze back into his eyes, liquid fury while looking down at you.

“Who is the guy you have a crush for? The loser-“

“It’s you. You are the loser.” Your brain still struggles to phantom what is happening. You were freezing cold a few minutes ago, you couldn’t feel the apex of your fingers, but now you don’t feel anything.

But something inside Sae’s mind clicked before yours, the umbrella waving left and right, the grip on it clearly loosened.

“You are an imbecile.” His words are sharp knives on your body, but you can’t grasp in pain because something is pressing on your lips.

Sae is kissing you, his cold hands gripping you by the collar of your dress to keep you close, raindrops fall down from his cheeks to yours, the umbrella is left abandoned in a bush, the wind tearing it apart.

“For how long?” He pulls you up from the bench, his right hand gripping yours while the left one is on your back.

“The exam fail.” You whisper almost in a trance “And you?”

“Let’s go home-“ He starts to run out from the park, calling for a cab to bring you both to, you suppose, your house. You notice him looking around, probably searching for a place to shield your bodies from the rain; not that you have much to protect anymore both wet from head to toe.

“It has been longer...Sae! That’s why you have always teased me.” You finally laugh shivers of cold and joy running down your back.  “Sae!” You shout stopping in your tracks. Sae turns back but doesn’t have time to snap at you, this time it’s you kissing him. Your hands go to caress his cheeks, one hand sliding a bit back to scratch the back of his neck. You probably nailed the right point, because you hear him moan into your mouth. His hands slide lower caressing your waist to your hips, but never brave enough to go to your backside.

Or better, when you feel him sliding closer…

“Mister Itoshi, come in the car!” his driver came to pick you up, using the horn two times to announce his presence.

Sae looks at him, gnashing his teeth before looking back at you, his expression getting softer again. “Let’s go” he kisses you in between your eyebrows before pulling you towards his car.

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me when you fell in love with me.” You feel the hold on your hands tightening, no need to look at his face to understand what’s going on in his head.

Maybe he’ll kiss you dumb to make you forget about that. Maybe he’ll be brave enough to propose showering together…your mind starts to daydream, maybe he won’t have the courage and you’ll have to take the reins, but one thing is sure.

You’ll both be happy.

[maxsimagination]

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲- 𝗮.𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘀

summary: the ballon d’or ceremony is a night for celebrations, but alexia has other plans in mind.

-> !! strap use, captain kink !!

𖦹 masterlist

𝗕𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗡 𝗗'𝗢𝗥.

the highest honour in the world of football.

the awards ceremony was being held tonight, and the highest names in the leagues were going to be there - male and female. i was over the moon that i had been nominated, i would have been happy with just an invitation to view the celebration.

nominated from the barcelona women's team there was me, alexia, jenni, irene and sandra. mapi was also attending but she hadn't been nominated, only invited.

i had a gut feeling that i hadn't come first, normally the winners were made aware at least 10 hours before the actual ceremony. since i hadn't heard anything and we were en route to the venue, it was my natural assumption.

the girls were all chatting in the limousine that the barcelona staff had hired out. i was sat next to mapi and irene. the latter was talking my ear off about how cool the night is going to be, even if none of us won.

i was by far one the youngest players to be nominated this year, only 20 years old, but turning 21 in the next couple of months.

we pulled up to the event just then, and all six of us exited the car, following the men in suits that guided us. one by one, we all walked onto the red carpet, had a couple of pictures taken, along with a group one of everyone form barcelona femeni. finally the photos were over with and we could head inside to sit down.

the crowd that was already sitting in the massive ceremony hall was insane. most of the left side was already filled up and the right side had a couple of people lingering around it. we took our seats and i let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't that i didn't like these things, i just hated the heels i was wearing.

"you okay, chica?"

i heard a voice i knew to be alexia's from my left and i turned to her with a tired smile.

"sí, just tired. and my feet hurt."

she laughed at that, patting my clothed thigh.

"i can give you a massage when we get home, cariño."

she squeezed my thigh as she whispered in my ear, her voice turning gravelly. it was insanely hot.

"ale..."

my voice held a warning; we were in public and on live tv, she shouldn't do this here.

"yn... you know i love that dress on you."

i was wearing a plain black dress but it was halter neck with a low back and two slits, one on each leg. i blushed hard at her words, feeling the shivers travel through my body.

finally the ceremony got underway, all the long-winded speeches and guest speakers.

it felt like a million years had passed before the actual awards were being held up. the men's awards came first, of course, then the women's. all the nominees were told to stand and wait backstage so they could all walk out on stage when they were called.

that meant all of our group but mapi had to get up. i gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before getting up and walking off.

alexia was behind me the entire time, and when we were safely out of eyesight, i felt her hand on the small of my back, dangerously close to slipping under the fabric. and she did, her fingers dipped under the waistband to latch onto the minuscule thong i had worn underneath the dress.

"oh, bebita... so naughty."

she leant down and whispered in my ear. i tensed up before one of the backstage directors called out for all of us women to get into the directed positions. that meant alexia and i had to split up.

when our names were called out we walk out. the nerves were still buzzing around inside me, and it got worse when i didn't hear my name called for the first few people.

i had almost automatically assumed i'd be near the bottom, being so young and what some would called 'inexperienced'. so you can imagine my surprise when i was called as 4th overall. my jaw dropped to the floor for a split second before i remembered to walk out.

then when all the other players were called as well, the hosts called a guest speaker to announce the winner.

"and the winner of the ballon d'or feminin 2021 is... alexia putellas!" cheers erupted throughout the hall and i had the largest smile on my face as alexia walked out to collect the award. she thanked the speaker before turning to the crowd and holding up the golden ball for everyone to see.

alexia putellas, my teammate, my captain, my girlfriend, had won the ballon d'or.

——

it was almost half past ten when we arrived home after the ceremony. choosing to forgo the barcelona 'after party', alexia drove us straight to her apartment. the car ride was silent but in a comfortable way. i knew she wouldn't let me off the hook for the thong i'd worn tonight, so i was waiting until she said something.

when we got in the door, she walked straight to the bedroom, clearly expecting me to follow her. i quickly took my heels off and followed her. the second i stepped in the door, she was on me. her lips on mine, and her hands travelling to my ass.

"you have no clue what you do to me."

she breathed out heavily when we broke apart. i was just as breathless, my cheeks flushed red.

"ale, please."

she smirked before unzipping her dress, and telling me to take mine off too. i unclipped mine and let it fall to the floor. the moment i turned around i was in for a surprise.

alexia had somehow taken both her dress and underwear off in record time, and was standing facing me while securing our favourite strap. my eyes widened and i could myself getting more excited. alexia moved to the bed and laid down.

"let's warm you up, yea? you're gonna sit on my face."

i crawled up to her where her head was and swung my leg over. i sunk down on her and her mouth immediately latched onto my clit. i moaned at the contact, falling forward and having to steady myself with a hand on the headboard.

her mouth was working wonders, licking, sucking, biting, and bringing me closer and closer to my first orgasm of the night.

"ale, ale i'm close."

she didn't falter in her ministrations, just kept working her tongue on my clit. and just like that i fell over the edge, spasming and letting go all over alexia's face.

she licked one last stripe from my pulsing hole to my swollen clit before lifting me off her face and switching us.

"gonna need you on your knees, bebita."

i had an idea of where this was going and i was scrambling to get into position. alexia was stood behind me, her hand resting on my waist while i waited patiently. suddenly i felt the tip of her strap slide through my folds, before pushing into me. she took it slowly, letting me adjust to the size and setting a steady pace.

it was a delicious feeling, the way her cock slid in and out, filling me up before pulling out, only to push back in again. i let out a moan, and pushed my ass back to meet alexia's thrusts.

"needy girl, are you?"

"need it faster, please capitana."

the rank slipped out of my mouth without a thought. i could feel alexia's hand tighten her grip on my waist before her thrusts quickened.

i arched my back so my chest and face were resting on the bed and my ass was pushed up, on full display. still pushing back to meet alexia's thrusts again. my hand trailed down to my clit, desperate for some sort of friction. i was so close, i could feel it.

i started rubbing on the bundle of nerves harder, faster. my hole was clenching around alexia's cock faster now, i was right on the edge.

"ale, capitana, please. can i cum?"

"yes bebita, cum for me. cum all over my cock."

that was all the time i needed as i let go for the second time that night, dripping all over alexia's strap. alexia slowed down her thrusts and fucked me through my orgasm, then slowly pulling out and discarding the strap somewhere so she could clean up later.

"are you okay, cariño?"

i nodded, eyes closed, just soaking in the fucked-out bliss i was in.

"words, y/n."

alexia chuckled.

"that was the best sex ever."

i breathed out with a smile, opening my eyes and looking up into alexia's green orbs.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Meet me in the Hallway

Leah Williamson x Styles!reader

Disclaimer: i know leah wore the suit in 2022 but for this it’s 2021.

Y/n sighed running her hand down her dress nervously as her brother walked through the door fixing his cuffs “right cars going to be here in 10.” Y/n nodded looking as her phone lit up for the fifth time in two minutes “who in the hell keeps texting you.” Y/n looked at the vanity her stomach filling with butterflies before turning back to her brother “Sorry H, it’s the group chat talking about international break coming up.” Harry nodded understanding his younger sisters busy schedule “alright but please turn it just for tonight we barely ever get to do anything like this together.” Y/n looked back at her phone before nodding.

Sitting in the car Y/n couldn’t help herself as she tapped on the empty seat beside her as Harry looked at her quizzically “what’s wrong Y/n/n.” Y/n hummed turning to face him “nothing H.” Harry shook his head “I’ve seen you, play matches no problem for both England and United you don’t ever get this nervous, it’s just an award show.” Y/n nodded along to her brothers words “I know H, but I’m not used to this I’m scared of the judgement of standing on a red carpet let alone standing next to you.” Harry shook his head “hey your Y/n Styles an amazing football player who has helped her childhood club grow into the WSL, who will make the Great Britain roster this summer and the England roster next summer, yeah your my little sister but that’s not all you are or all you are worth trust and the only people that are allowed to have that opinion of you are the one who have your phone number ok.” Y/n nodded before turning to look back out the window as they pulled up to the red carpet.

Y/n and Harry stood for photos together and then some separately before splitting for a bit to do interviews “Y/n hi any chance of a quick interview.” Y/n nodded letting out a soft “of course making her way over. “Hi I’m Morgan.” Y/n shook Morgan’s hand before getting into the interview “what’s it like attending an award show with none other than Harry Styles.” Y/n couldn’t help but sigh internally knowing she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes about being asked questions about herself “I mean he’s my brother so it’s pretty normal he doesn’t act any different if that’s what your asking.” Morgan smiled nodding “and can you give us any clues is he going to be releasing any new music.” Y/n turned looking at the celebrities walking the carpet looking for either her brother or anyone really to get her out of this “ehm I’m not really sure, it’s not something I ask as I know it’s a process and one that takes time when he’s ready to share it with the world you will know.” Y/n turned to the carpet once more as Morgan began to ask her final question before Y/n caught eyes with Alex Scott who smiled brightly bounding over to the younger girl “oh my god hello gorgeous.” Y/n let out a laugh pulling Alex into a hug “hi Al.” Morgan cleared her throat before asking the question again “one final question Y/n and I let you get back to it, what is your favourite Harry Styles song.” Y/n looked at Alex “hum that’s hard Al have you got a favourite song of Harry.” Y/n couldn’t help her eyes drift to the figure behind Alex or the butterflies that erupted once more in her stomach the second the figure caught her staring. “Oh I’d have to say favourite song sign of the times Y/n, and favourite match performance of Y/n’s is probably her being the youngest start during the 2019 World Cup and she did not disappoint.” Alex wrapped her arms around you giving you a squeeze “and Y/n favourite song.” Morgan continued ignoring Alex’s last bit “Fine Line.” Morgan gave you both a quick thank you before you both turned to leave “I hate these.” Alex looked at you softly before turning at the sound of her name “you are so much more than his sister remember that.” Y/n nodded thanking Alex before her eyes drifted behind her again turning as she felt her cheeks heat up.

Harry sat at the table watching his sister who nervously played with the table cloth as she looked around the room “Y/n are you sure your ok.” Y/n nodded smiling at Chloe Kelly as she came running over “ahhh Y/n your here.” Y/n got up wrapping Chloe in a tight hug swaying back and forth “aww it’s so good to see you, I’ve missed you.” Chloe and Y/n began discussing the current season before Y/n remembered who she was here with “oh Chloe this is my older brother Harry, Harry this is one of the best forwards I’ve ever seen.” Harry stood up shaking Chloe’s hand as she looked at you surprised “holy shit Y/n.” Y/n laughed at her shocked expression “I’m sorry I know you guys are siblings but to actually see you guys together is mind blowing.” Y/n laughed sitting down as Chloe,herself and Harry began chatting.

Y/n sat holding Harry’s hand nerves shooting through the roof as they began calling out the nominees for British signal “and the winner is Harry Styles Watermelon Sugar.” Harry looked at you surprised as you pulled him into a hug “oh H go I’m so proud.” Harry stood kissing Y/ns cheek rushing up to get his award. Y/n knew she was supposed to be paying attention to her brother but she couldn’t help her eyes drifting to a certain figure sat two tables over straightening her dress as the nerves kicked in again.

Y/n was stood in an empty Hallway trying to turn her phone back on when she felt two hand wrap around her waist “ignoring me tonight my love.” Y/n sighed relaxing into her loves arms “no just wanted to be present for Harry and you make that extremely difficult when you light up my phone every five minutes.” Y/n smiled feeling the breath on her ear “I was simply telling you how sexy you where in that dress darling the silver really matches my green but it would suit my Hotel floor better.” Y/n sighed turning to look at the ocean blue eyes she so often gets lost in. “Oh really.” Y/n couldn’t help her eyes drop to the most kissable lips she had ever known “I found it really hard to just sit there and watch as Chloe came over they way she hugged you and wouldn’t let go of your arm had me wanting to shoot up out of my seat.” Y/n hummed once more wrapping her hands behind the older girls neck “you could have I wouldn’t have minded, maybe could have introduced you to my brother.” Y/n felt her self deflating at her girlfriends words “you could do that anyway you know I’d love to meet him maybe get him to tell me stories about you.” Y/n sighed “I mean as my girlfriend not as my friend.” Y/n pulled the blondes face towards her dying for a kiss “I like this though, our little bubble of privacy.” Y/n stopped her movements “this doesn’t feel like a private relationship to me, it feels like you want to keep me, us, our beautiful relationship hidden.” The Arsenal defender shook her head “I don’t I just don’t want unwanted opinions or attention on our relationship.” Y/n shook her head “so our families are unwanted opinions.” The taller girl sighed “can we please just drop this for now, I just want to kiss you and hold you and maybe even slip my hotel room card into you hand and tell you to meet me after.” Y/n sighed before nodding “ok yeah I’m sorry Le, I just..this, today would have been so much easier if I could do this with you instead of by myself or with H.” Leah hummed pulling her girlfriend into a searing kiss. “I promise soon ok.” Y/n nodded pulling Leah down into another kiss as they both relaxed into each others arms “I love you ok.” Y/n nodded “I love you too.”

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 18 of Kinktober: Having Sex At a Night Club with Joe Burrow

pairing: Joe Burrow x fem!reader

warning: Public Sex, unprotected sex

Y/N’s POV

I’m going to a night club near the city of Cincinnati with Joe and some of Cincinnati Bengals football players and their girlfriends because of a huge win that the Bengals had on last Sunday. When we get there, I see a lot of people looking good, women’s outfits looking amazing, they’re makeup looking great as well. But I feel like I look good, but not that good.

We went to a booth but some people went to the dance floor, I joined them but Joe stayed at the booth talking to some of the football players. The music made me dance like I never danced before, I look at Joe, he still talking to the football players but he looks at me dancing, he wants me, he wants me badly. I continue to dance until I feel arms wrapping around my waist so I look at who is it and it’s Joe.

“You wanna go somewhere private?” Joe whispers in my ear.

“Sure, but where?” I ask.

“You’ll see.” Joe smirks.

Joe takes us in a back room and makes us get to the nearest wall.

“I’ve been wanting you since we walked in this club.” He whispers in my ear.

“Then have me.” I whisper in his ear.

He smirks, he picks me up and pins me to the wall and he hikes my dress up, I gasp and wrap my legs around his waist. He unzips my dress and I unbuckle his belt so I can unzip his pants. When we got undressed he fucks me up on the wall. I scream but I don’t think anyone can hear us from the loud music. He gives me love bites which made me tug on his hair.

When we were done, Joe lays his face in my neck, I pet his hair and I feel sweat coming down my body including his. We hear the door next to us rattling, when it opens, it’s Ja’Marr looking horrified.

“Are you fucking serious? You two can’t stop touching each other even at a nightclub. Jesus.” Ja’Marr says.

Ja’Marr closes the door, Joe and I look at each other and we chuckle.

“This was different on what we normally do.” I said.

“You wanna stick with us celebrating at home or going to out?” Joe whispers in my ear.

“I rather stay home.” I say.

“Why’s that?” He replies.

“So no one will interrupt us.” I say petting his hair.

He giggles. He knows it’s true.

“Can we go home?” I ask.

“We’ll go home so I can have you all to myself.” Joe whispers in my ear and kisses my neck.

I giggle.

Thank god that Bengals won!

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, haven’t read through it.

Leah Williamson x !Reader:

Oh, what a night.

A roar. A roar of noise from the home fans. Them seeing the time on the score. 123 minutes have passed. The fans whistling, shouting, calling out for the referee to blow their whistle. It’s two to one, England winning. So close to win the Euros. So close to change women’s football forever. So close.

Y/n has got the ball, all she knows what to do is boot it away. Then the referee should blow. Magull, the scorer for Germany rushes towards her. However, Y/n being the calm player she is, dribbles past her. She sees Alessia running away and to the Germany goal. Even if this doesn’t reach Alessia’s feet, Y/n knows that the end. The referee will blow and they have won. She knows.

Y/n boots it over to Alessia. And, as she does the noice the players and home fans all want to hear. The screams were almost deafening. But, no one cared. Y/n crashed. Her knees gave up. She’s on the ground, her head resting on the grass that she played on for over an hour. Tears almost threatening to spill as she takes in what her and her friends have achieved.

Her felt an arm pull her up. Not caring who it was she fell right into them. Her head stuffed in the person neck. She didn’t know who it was until they spoke. “We did it.”

Smiling at the voice she lifts her head up, looking right at her. “Fucking hell Leah, i’m exhausted.”

A laughed escaped her lips as she nods her head. “Yeah, me too.” She kissed the top of Y/N’s head. Before Alessia and Ella pulled them away, joining in at the celebration with the team. The night went on. Champagne was drank. Bodies on the dance floor.

It’s now 21:34pm. Every single one of the girls were still partying harder than ever. They are now at there hotel bar. Music blasting, which everyone sung too.

Y/n goes to the bar to grab another drink. Seeing another fellow teammate there. Creeping up behind her. “Hey-“

“Fucking Christ- Y/n!”

Y/n giggled, before turning to the bartender ordering her normal drink she gets. “Sorry, Lee.”

Leah scoffs, shaking her head but smiling softly at her. “Are you?”

Y/n looked back at her, smiling back softly at her, looking around her whole face, marking Leah’s details all around her face before answering. “No, I’m not.” She pulls her eyes away from her only to grab her drink once the bartender passes it to her.

Y/n turns around to face Leah, to notice that she has moved closer to me and is staring right at me. I smile at her and she smiles back. “Hi.”

“Hey…” Leah trials off, her eyes never leaving mine. Which is common for Leah. She can hold eye contact better than Y/n staying on her own feet. “You look… gorgeous.”

Y/n instantly became red. Her eyes leaving Leah’s to compose herself. Leah has always been such a flirt and it’s has always gotten Y/n blushing like crazy. And, Leah always sees it. “I mean it, Y/n/n.” Leah mumbled.

“Stop.” Y/n whispers, placing her drink down on the table they were next too. Before sitting down on one side of the booth. “Why?” Leah asks, following Y/N’s movements. Sitting down next to her.

“You making me-“ Y/n pauses mid sentence. Slightly re-thinking the words she was about to fall out her mouth, before sighing looking back at Leah. “Making me want to kiss you.”

“And that’s a problem how?” Leah asks, her right hands brushes up on Y/N’s cheekbone. “I’ve always had trouble finding how I’m feeling. Especially when it comes to girls.” Leah whispers.

“But, with you- I don’t know, it just makes sense.” Leah mutter, her eyes trying to find Y/N’s as she keeps looking at the floor. “Look at me, please.”

Y/n immediately looks up, her breath hitching as her eyes connect with Leah’s. Leah continues to talk in an effort to open her feelings. The feelings she’s been feeling for a little while.

“I knew my feelings for you while I was still in a relationship with Jordan. That was one of the reason’s we broke up.” Leah murmurs, now both of her hands cupping her cheeks now fully making sure Y/n doesn’t pull or look away.

“You have feelings for me?” Y/n asks, her eyes soften. Her eyes now fully never leaving Leah’s. Fully concentrated on the conversation and confession. “So fucking much.” Leah whispers.

There faces are closing in closer and closer. Like a moth to a flame. Moth is them and the flame the other’s lips.

“If- we shouldn’t do this here. Someone could be filming and it could be on the internet.” Y/n mumbles, her eyes never leaving Leah’s lips. “Yeah…” Leah trials off. “But, I don’t care.”

The hands cupping Y/N’s cheeks, suddenly pulls her in. Their lips meeting eachother’s perfectly. Y/n froze just for a few seconds before her hands came out to wrap around Leah’s waist. Her lips moving in sync with Leah’s. The kiss was slow, but gradually sped up as their hands wander over the other’s body.

Loads of thoughts rushed into Y/N’s and Leah’s head. The main one was the kiss and how gentle and loving the other kissed. But the one that was a problem was the aftermath. Either of them pulled away though. It could easily be the alcohol speaking.

Leah started to move forward, the legs intertwined together. Straddling almost. They hand’s which, Leah’s around Y/N’s wait and Y/n hanging round Leah’s neck. Leah gently bits down on Y/N’s bottom lip making her grunt, opening her mouth. She slips her tongue into Y/N’s mouth.

Before anything more could happen. Whistles from afar could be heard. Y/n was the one to pull away as Leah couldn’t care less. Y/n looks over to see some of her teammates looking over to them.

“Oi! Get a room!” Mary yells, laughing along with Alessia and Ella. Leah rolls her eyes but gradually takes Y/N’s hand. Pulling her up. “Gladly.” Leah yells back, flipping Alessia and Ella off as they made kissy jokes.

Leah grabs her bag off Ella who winked before walking down the hallway trying to find her room. Once she does she grabs her keycard from her bag, swiping the card she rushing into the door her hand never letting go of Y/n’s

“Leah-“ she gets shut up by Leah pushing her up against the door and a pair of lips meeting hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/n arms wrap around Leah’s next again, pulling her closer.

Leah then trials her kisses to Y/N’s neck. Kissing the skin gently but with a little bit of aggressiveness. Y/n tilts her head back, enjoying the feeling of Leah’s lips on her body. Her right hand holding Leah in place. Not wanting her to stop.

“No hickeys.” Y/n mumbles, but knowing Leah won’t care about that and that she will proudly leave quite a few. “Oh, god.”

Leah’s lips trails up to Y/N’s ear whispering. “Bed, baby.” Y/N’s knees nearly folded.

Y/n pushes her chest forward, making her bad Leah walk backwards. Once Leah’s let’s touch the bed, Y/n pushes her onto it.

Leah pushes back into the bed, before grabbing Y/n by the waist bringing her down won’t her. Y/n now straddling Leah.

Leah hold her in place, biting her lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Y/n smiles softly at her before leaning down to kiss her again. Leah’s hands immediately move up to her head, keeping her in place.

Y/n gradually moved her hips back and forth. To which Leah groans to. “Fuck, baby.” Her hands now back on Y/N’s waist, helping her move. “Gosh.”

The night was wonderful for the two. They won the euros, they finally confessed their feeling and felt something they haven’t for a while.

And let’s just say Mary and Ella who is right next door to them the whole night, didn’t get any sleep whatsoever.

[lancerslover]

The Private Conference

(this lovely moodboard was created by @vintagedebutante ♥︎)

Pairing: President John F. Kennedy/Petite!Reader

Summary: As Cold War tensions rise, President John F. Kennedy calls one of his secretaries into the Oval Office to help him relax.

Word Count: 2.8k

Further Info: 18+, includes swearing and smut, specifically oral sex

A/N: happy Fourth of July, everyone!! i simply cannot think of a more patriotic way to celebrate than posting a fic about America’s hottest president. in this one, i tried to combine a few different requests, including one asking for the setting to be in the Oval Office, one asking for an angry/angsty Jack, and one asking for the reader to be on the petite side. i hope this fic at least somewhat does justice to those amazing ideas, and i hope you all have a wonderful, safe holiday! ♥︎

You froze for just a moment, almost like your shoe had caught on the carpet, when you stepped into the Oval Office and saw the President on the phone. This wasn’t uncommon—in fact, you’d estimate that at least half of all the “private conferences” you’d had with him since becoming his secretary had been interrupted, at some point, by a call. Typically, it didn’t put a damper on things (though you liked to groan and pout up at him whenever the phone rang, but that was only because you liked the way he would give your nose a playful, reprimanding pinch and tell you to “hush now, baby”). In all honesty, it made you feel oddly powerful, like a glamorous concubine of old, to sit with this big history book figure and listen while he discussed Castro and Khrushchev and all the other monumental responsibilities he carried on his wide, ex-Harvard-football-player shoulders.

On this particular afternoon, however, you immediately picked up on the fact that his call was putting him in a very bad mood. You knew tensions had been heating up with Cuba (you weren’t let in on any of the specifics, but you figured whatever threats Castro was making must’ve been pretty severe because, recently, you’d noticed your coworkers in the West Wing laughing less and pointlessly bustling around more), and you figured that was what the President’s call was about because you’d never seen him glower quite like he was now. His eyes were solid stone as he tracked you across the royal blue carpet; it was almost like he couldn’t truly see you through the dark film shadowing his gaze—he didn’t even offer you so much as a wink or a little throwaway smile.

As you came closer, you decided to test the waters and cast your usual finger-twiddling wave his way, but the only response you saw, and the only confirmation you got that he’d even registered your hello, was his eyebrows suddenly furrowing—drooping, almost—down his brow, as if your wave had actually stolen energy from him somehow. You quickly dropped your hand back to your side. The President was in serious need of some de-stressing today.

“Here’s the problem I have,” he was telling whoever was on the phone as you came up beside his looming Resolute Desk. “You can’t give me a definitive answer as to how long that’s gonna take.”

As he listened to the little voice (voices?) that jabbered away in response, he slowly swiveled in his chair to face you—and you supressed a delighted shiver. Since he was so tall (or maybe because you were so pitifully short), the two of you were exactly at eye-level whenever he sat down, and at this proximity, you swore you could feel the hot, agitated energy emanating off of him in thick, nerve-frying waves.

“Well, there’s no sense in you making any kind of official statement,” the President snapped abruptly, cutting the other man off (and making you flinch instinctively, which you normally would’ve been deeply embarrassed about after the fact, but the President hadn’t seemed to notice; at this point he was still looking more through you than at you), “until I can get up there and restore order.” You noticed then that his trademark East Coast accent sounded especially thick today, almost British. He pronounced “restore order” like ree-sto-ah oh–ah-dah, and he spit cigar smoke with every syllable.

Though the thought of turning around and leaving made your ribs clench around your heart with a yearning, almost schoolgirlish disappointment, you knew his needs ultimately came before yours. So, you started to mouth Should I come back later? as animatedly as your lips could manage, hoping you’d finally grab his attention enough to at least get a goodbye, when suddenly, his hand swung out to grab the skirt of your pencil dress and he pulled you, half-stumbling, between his large, knobby knees. Your hand flew to the edge of the desk so you wouldn’t trip over right into his chest (admittedly, if he was in a better mood, you probably wouldn’t have been so quick to catch yourself), and as you regained your bearings, you found yourself sucking in your cheeks to stave off a full-on beaming smile. You should’ve known better than to think John F. Kennedy was ever not in the mood, phone call be damned.

You were close enough to him now that, when you finished smoothing your rumpled skirt and looked up at him, you could smell the confused mix of cigar and minty toothpaste on his breath, and you could see the secret swirls of gray and green surging through the stormy blue of his eyes. He was definitely the most handsome man you’d ever been with—the combination of his boyishly-freckled, chronically-sunburnt cheeks with the square-shaped, no-nonsense masculinity of the rest of his face was undeniably endearing. During the quick half-second you two hung there staring at each other and his pupils (at last!) zeroed in on you and you alone, you felt a sudden sear of jealousy for the First Lady. It must be wonderful, you sighed inwardly, to be loved by a man so attractive. Sure, you were called in almost daily to the President’s office or the White House pool to help him “blow off some steam,” but you weren’t dumb enough to think that was love. You’d seen how he and his wife giggled like teenagers while they whispered in each others’ ears and how, whenever she spoke, he gazed down at her with eyes so soft and tender it made your heart hurt. The two of them simply sparkled. And though you liked to think you’d achieved a certain level of friendship with the President, he’d always made it clear, without ever having to say a word, that no one—not you or any other pretty young secretary, no matter how good you all got at giving blowjobs—could ever hope to reach the height of the First Lady’s pedestal in his mind.

As if to illustrate that very point, the President moved the receiver a few inches from his mouth and tore you from your thoughts with the very first words he’d spoken to you all afternoon, which were: “Don’t waste any time now, alright?” with a pointed glance down between his legs for emphasis. Then he added, “I’m having one hell of a day” and reached around to plant a firm pat on your butt.

And so, you began the familiar routine of stripping off your clothes and laying them neatly to the side—to ensure they’d stay wrinkle-free—until you were wearing nothing but your skin-colored stockings and the cross around your neck (for some depraved reason, the President liked it when you wore that necklace while you sucked him off).

You barely had time to kneel before he was clasping his hand around the side of your head and hooking his giant, hairy-knuckled thumb in your mouth to practically drag your face closer. Your throat tightened around a sharp intake of breath. Lord, he was impatient.

While you were in the middle of unzipping his slacks and pulling his penis out from the big bramble of hair beneath his belly, you suddenly jumped, startled once again as his voice sliced through the room, deeper this time and undercut with a predatory rumbling you could feel in your chest. “That fucker,” he snarled into the phone, which was now balanced between his shoulder and ear. “You oughta tell him he can stick that silly little ultimatum, if that’s what it is, right up his ass.”

Electricity sizzled up through your stomach. The President was going to be rough with you today, you could tell. You almost wanted to thank Castro personally for riling him up so much (you might’ve felt guilty for thinking something like that, but you were so confident the President would never let anything happen to his country that you truly didn’t see why Castro’s threats should be any cause for concern). Why the idea of the President taking his anger out on you was such a thrill, you weren’t sure. You were simply desperate for human touch as fast and hard as you could get it, you supposed—and in that way, if in no other, you thought you and the President were sort of kindred spirits.

You were practically leaning into his palm like a purring cat when he pulled his hand out of your mouth and ran it up over your cheek and back across your scalp to gather all of your hair into a makeshift ponytail. He was muttering into the receiver all the while (“Uh-huh. God, I know. Shit.”), his voice wet with saliva from the two or three painkillers he’d popped absentmindedly into his mouth.

Once your hair was all out of your face, you spit into your hand just like he’d once taught you to and gave the length of his gradually-stiffening cock a few long, indulgent strokes. But to your dismay, he gave absolutely no reaction. You watched, puffing your cheeks out with frustrated air, as he slowly set his cigar down in the ashtray and, like you weren’t even there, began tapping his pointer finger against his teeth like he always did when he was lost in thought—thought that clearly had nothing to do with you.

You didn’t waste any more time before bending over and wrapping your lips around him, eyes fixed frenetically on his face, and you swore your heart itself squealed with joy when, finally, his eyes flicked down to you, and he tilted the receiver away again to let out an appreciative, whistling breath.

You felt your hair tangle around his fingers as he moved his hand from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, and then, barely giving you enough time to adequately relax your throat, he pushed your head down with appalling strength, his tip jamming up into you with enough force to rub the insides of your cheeks raw. Your hands latched onto his knees.

“There we go,” the President said in a soft half-whisper-half-groan that made your inner thighs flush hot. “Atta girl.” Always the one to set the pace, he began moving you hastily up and down.

After working through the first eye-watering, throat-burning few seconds, you thought you were adjusting pretty well—until his hips made a sudden, violent twitch while he was buried to the hilt in your mouth (which was accompanied by a heaving grunt that could’ve been either from pain or pleasure, you weren’t sure), and you hacked a loud, wet cough that made the guy talking in his ear falter and go silent for a moment.

Your eyes fluttered wide. Had the President’s men heard you?

The President certainly seemed to think so, because he suddenly jerked you still halfway up his cock, which only served to send you into a fresh fit of choking, your whole body wracking with every cough. In an attempt to drown you out, the President leaned back in his chair and spoke louder into the phone. “Well, that bastard’s incompetent,” he said, patting his fingers against your cheek as if that would somehow shut you up. “I wouldn’t have him running, uh, a cathouse.” His wedding band burned cruelly against your skin.

Eventually, he oh-so-benevolently relented and lifted his hand from your neck, and you instantly whipped your head up—not so much to catch your breath (you were pretty sure you would’ve gotten ahold of your coughing fit without having to interrupt your “de-stressing” session if he’d have given you just a few more seconds) as to gauge whether or not you’d only made him angrier with all your noise. But to your relief, he was actually smirking now as he looked down at you, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh, completely unfazed by the men now clearing their throats and timidly resuming the conversation in his ear. That figures, you thought. The President probably wanted those men to hear you, deep-down. You knew him well enough by now to understand that he occasionally got off on the fact that his bodyguards and cabinet members were plainly aware of how many doe-eyed, obedient women—not just secretaries and interns but Hollywood starlets, too—he had giggling and dropping to their knees at the snap of his fingers.

At least you’d gotten him to smile, though—if not exactly in the way you’d hoped.

After a long pause, during which you were trying in vain to wipe away all the spit and pre-cum that had dribbled down your chin, the President said with an air of finality, “Alright, there really isn’t anything more to say here.” Say hee-ah. You froze mid-wipe and let out an excited gasp.

He responded by scooping a strong forearm under your armpit and hoisting you up onto his lap like you were nothing but a tiny doll, forcing you to clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle a squeak of surprise.

Leaning against his warm chest was like reclining into a giant sofa back as you settled onto his muscled leg. His penis, now only half-erect again, stirred plaintively against the inside of your thigh, seemingly sulky after having been abandoned.

“I’ve got my hands full over here.” The President was grinning widely at his own pun as he took to rubbing his free hand down your body, the width of his fingers splaying across the entirety of your stomach as he inched toward your clit with agonizing slowness. In retaliation, you reached back over his shoulder to grab a fistful of thick auburn hair.

“Call me back this evening with some good news, would you?” was the the last thing the President said before, in a blur, the receiver was slammed into its cradle and his hand was around your neck, his fingers were in your mouth, his hips were twitching up into your backside with an eager mind of their own. Suddenly, you could feel his heart thunking between your shoulder blades and your ear growing moist with heavy, animal-like breaths.

“God,” he groaned as he finally let his hand fall to your clit. “God-fucking-dammit. You drive me crazy, you know that? You dirty little girl.”

He started nibbling on your neck (he’d never actually kissed you—this hungry, barely-restrained biting, like a wolf chomping at its muzzle, was the closest he ever came) and cupping your breasts and tugging at your nipples with the same fiery-eyed ferocity you’d seen when he was on the phone. You and the other secretaries teasingly referred to this do-or-die passion of his as the famous red-blooded Kennedy “vigor” the press always talked about. Though what the press didn’t know, you and the girls always joked, was that this eager, youthful energy—this incessant, almost pathological need to dominate and conquer—extended far beyond just bull-headed political policies.

“They heard you,” the President was murmuring between his little bites. “God, they all heard you. That excites you, doesn’t it?”

Unwilling to admit how right he was, you instead smothered your face in his hot, pulsing neck to cover up a whimpering moan, and then you were twisting around to loosen his tie, unable to stop yourself—when a loud knock banged against the Oval Office doors.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” the President griped dramatically against your ear, making you laugh.

“I can come back later,” you said, more pleading with him than anything, whispering right into his mouth. You watched his eyes flick ravenously around your face as you wrapped your hand around his cock and added, with a small chuckle, “To finish you off.”

“That you will,” he said, “if you know what’s good for you.” Then he gave you that long-awaited wink and grin before wrapping his hands around your waist to stand you back up, and you were pleased to hear him groan softly at the loss of contact.

When you bent down with wobbly legs to pick up your clothes, he offered you his hand to hold and steady yourself on, and you felt yourself blushing at this perversely chivalrous gesture, even though he’d done similar things countless times before and was always unabashedly ogling your body as he did so.

“That knock means I’m going to have to head down to the Sit Room,” he told you then, wearily running his fingers through his perfectly-mussed hair while you tugged your blouse over your head, one hand still cradled in his. “But in about an hour, when I come back,” he continued, “I want you in here, naked and lying on that sofa over there.” He flung a finger towards the parlor area across the room.

You breathed a smiling sigh and shook your head, knowing you’d soon be in your office counting down the seconds. “Whatever you say, Mr. President.”

[outsideratheart]

La Reina and La Diosa (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A/N: It only seemed fitting to write a fic to celebrate Alexia's return to the squad and to post it seen as though we’re through to the final!

In a way it felt like yesterday when you got the call telling you that Alexia was hurt when in reality it was 296 days ago. In those 296 days you have witnessed Alexia's strength and determination first hand and it inspired you to play every minute as if it was you last and dedicate every game to her as she watched on in the stands or at home.

It wasn't easy been on the pitch without her, in fact in the 10 years you have been with the club you can count on one hand the amount of games where she hasn't been on the pitch with you. It's why the energy is different as the team travels from El Johan to Camp Nou.

Alexia has a smile on her face that you hadn't seen in a long while. The two of you, as well as some other players, sit at the back on the bus, she sits opposite you but your feet are touching under the table, every so often you would give each other a nudge as if you were school children.

"Something's changed. The team is happier than normal" Lucy says from her seat beside you.

"Ale's back. Her presence puts everyone at ease" You look at the brunette who sits across from you.

"You more than anyone else. I haven't seen you this peaceful since before you got the call back at SGP"

It wasn't a memory you were fond of and the days that followed were some of the most challenging. You told the lionesses you were withdrawing from the Euros and it sparked outrage amongst the majority. Since been in Barcelona Lucy and Keira saw first hand what you wanted to protect and if put in the same position again they would encourage you to go home and be by your wife's side.

"Everything is better when I have her by my side"

Little did you know Alexia had heard what you said. She kicks you gently and when you turn your attention to her she mouths 'I love you' to which you respond 'I love you more'.

Whilst you enjoyed the company of the english defender beside you, you did have a pre match ritual which starts with you blocking the outside world out. Taking your headphones out of you bag, you place them over your ears and play your playlist that had been curated for this season specifically.

"She's found it hard without you" Mapi tells Alexia "she tries to hide it, especially from us but we see the moments when she is with Lucy and Keira"

Mapi was telling the truth. The entire team felt the absence of Alexia but as Captain it was your job to lead them and you couldn't do that if you were obsessing over the fact that Alexia wasn't there with you. They saw the moments of frustration when you play balls to Patri who doesn't react because you do so without out saying anything. That's how it was with Alexia, she knows how you play and what your are thinking, words aren't needed between the two of you.

"Don't take offence to whatIi'm about to because I love you all, I really do but I can't want to back on that pitch with her, it's where I belong. For years it has been Y/N and Alexia"

"La Reina and La Diosa" Mapi adds the fan given nicknames that you and Alexia both loved and hated at the same time.

"Right, well for years it has been us and by her side her playing football is where i'm the happiest"

"You two are disgustingly cute" Alexia gives Mapi a look "Oh please you have been playing footsy under the table since we left the car park"

Like every game you are the first off the coach but you wait near the door until the team is off, Alexia is the last one to descend the steps. She stops on the last step, out of sight, and you see the hesitation on her face.

"You ready baby?" you are aware of the fans and cameras around you so you keep your tone low so that only she hears you.

When she nods you step aside and the fans erupt upon seeing the player that they have been waiting for.

"Wait a minute" you grab her hand as she walks towards the entrance "Listen to that, they're here for you, take it in"

Alexia turns around to face the fans. They chant her name, the sound gives you both goosebumps. When you see her close her eyes you know that she is savouring the moment. The way you look at her is hard to describe, saying it was the look of love didn't do it justice.

You don't realise you are staring until you feel her tug you hand. The small act of PDA sends the fans wild as they rarely get to see you and Alexia interact with each other in this way.

Jona had talked with you about Alexia's return and when it should happen. The setting was perfect; La Reina makes her return at Camp Nou but you wouldn't risk her career.

"Remember what we talked about?" He says just before you leave the locker room.

"Yes. The decision is mine, I'll you know if I think it's the right time"

"I'll wait for your signal Captain" with a supportive pat on the back he leaves you be and after a few moments you walk through the tunnel and to your rightful place at the front of the line.

The game is close, too close, with both teams scoring making it 2-1 so when Jona asks you at half time you reply saying that a 60 minute sub is not an option.

70 minutes into the second half Chelsea are pressing hard and it feels like a goal is imminent. AKB goes down and requires treatment so you take this time to talk to the team and regroup.

"Time is running out, he needs to bring Alexia on" It is the first thing Mapi says causing you to roll your eyes.

"No, that is not an option and it's not his decision, it's mine"

"What do you mean?" Aitana asks.

"Jona isn't on the pitch, he doesn't feel the intensity that this team is playing with so he left it up to me to decide if Alexia comes back in this game. Right now Chelsea are fighting and some of their tackles are dangerous, I myself have been on the end of some gruelling ones and I won't bring her on only for her to get hurt again"

"What do we need to do?"

"Score. We need a comfortably lead. If we make it 4-1 in the next ten minutes I'll give him the signal"

With a purpose other than to get to the final the team go back to their positions, ready to do whatever it takes to get Alexia back where she belongs.

If Chelsea thought Barcelona was attacking heavily before this point they would be mistaken but everyone on that pitch is playing with a new found energy and it caught the blues off guard making the home side unstoppable. When Mapi finds herself in space just outside of the box there is only was option going through the blonde's mind, she winds her leg back and hits the ball with the most power she has this season so it comes as no surprise when the ball hits the back of the net.

"That's one" Her arms are wrapped around your neck as you make your way back to your side of the pitch "Now are you going to be the one to score the goal that lets her play?"

It wasn't like you were't trying. You had scored a goal in the first half but the Chelsea defence was a back 4, 3 of those players where your national team mates who knew you very well. It made your job very hard but the way Mapi worded her sentence made you want to, no you needed to be the person to score the next goal.

When you get fouled a couple of meters away from the box, Barcelona are awarded the freekick. Mapi, Mariona and yourself stand over the ball but you all know who is taking it, the other two are simply there for a decoy.

When you turn to face the bench Alexia is up on her feet, she knows what's coming and she is ready to celebrate. The faith she has in your in infectious. You face the goal, close your eyes to block out the noise and imagine that it's one of those countless times where you and Alexia have stayed back to practice free kicks. The ball hits the top corner leaving AKB with no chance of stopping it. You and the team celebrate in front of the ultras and when you are back in your place you look towards Jona and hold up your index fingers, making the number 11.

It is time.

Alexia is subbed on for Keira and the whole stadium erupts in a sound of applause, players on the pitch join in, even the Chelsea players. Nothing compares to the happiness you feel knowing that someone you care deeply for is happy. You are overcome with emotion as Alexia runs onto the pitch.

"Are you crying?" Frido asks.

You are unaware of your glassed over eyes, the only thing you focus on is the Catalonian who is smiling from ear to ear. Not wanting to be caught by anyone but the Swede you bend down and pretend to tie your laces. You stand up just it time for Alexia to reach you. You wanted this moment to be special so you take off your captain's armband and pass it to her, this was her moment after all.

"No" Alexia pushes it into your chest "You've been by my side as my wife this entire way, now I want you by my side as my captain"

"Welcome back La Reina"

"Good to be back La Diosa"

The next ten minutes, Alexia will remember them for the rest of her career. The way the ball felt at her feet as she ran up the pitch, the way she saw you running down the middle. It was something that she has seen before and when the ball travelled towards you she knew the weight behind it was perfect. You header the ball into the back on the net and it means more than any other goal you have scored thus far in your career. Alexia is standing arms open wide waiting for you.

"Bloody beautiful" you praise her assist.

"You never did miss those shots, nice to see some things haven't changed"

After playing 4 added minutes the final whistle is blown, you had done it, you were going to Eindhoven and more importantly Alexia made her long awaited return. The team celebrate the latter more than anything because this team was a family and it was a special day for one of their own.

As captain and POTM you are called over for media much to your annoyance but you also know if you don't do it then they will call for Alexia and you wanted her to enjoy the moment and not have to worry about journalists.

By the time you are done Alexia is stood in place talking to Mapi, the person who didn't leave her side when she first got injured. It was a personal moment and you didn't want to interrupt so instead you turn to the crowd in search of the person that will be feeling the same overwhelming emotion as you, Eli Alexia's mother. She stands proudly with her hands clasped over her heart as she blows you a kiss, one which you happily return.

"Y/N" hearing your name being called by her never get's old.

You pick her up and spin her around whispering praise and congratulations in her ear as you do so. Alexia's legs wrap around your waist and in an automatic response your hands travel downwards to her bum so you can hold her up.

"I did it" Alexia only ever voiced her doubts to you but you told her time and time again that she would come back stronger.

"I told you so"

You look her in her eyes, those hazel eyes that you could get lost in. Her happiness was evident in the way they sparkled under the Camp Nou lights.

"It's the first time I've played in this" she brings her left hand in front of of you and shows off her taped finger "It feels weird"

"You get used to it" you tap your ring finger on her bum.

Her arms remain around your neck as you put her down. You could hear the screaming fans but they were nothing more than background music for the moment you are currently having with Alexia.

"I want to thank you Y/N. You never gave up on me, not even when I gave up on myself which happened more times than I'd like to admit"

"We made a vow Alexia. In sickness & in health, for better or for worse. I broke them once and I will never do it again"

"How many times do I have to tell you that you didn't break your vows and you didn't betray me. You had a country to lead last summer and watching you play, watching you win those awards at the end of it and lift that trophy, it inspired me more than you could ever imagine. You were my source of motivation every day whether that be in rehab, in the gym or on the pitch"

One thing is for certain, you are in awe of the woman standing in front of you. You often had moments like this where you freeze in front of Alexia so that you can see her, really see her.

"What?" Alexia brows furrowed upon feeling the intensity of your gaze.

"You're amazing and I'm incredibly proud of you. You say you gave up but you didn't. Look around Alexia, you have just made your comeback in front of a sold out Camp Nou and you get to play in yet another Champions League final"

"We can get play in the final. It's me and you Y/N and I'll never take this" she points at the stadium around her then at you "for granted"

Oh how you wanted to take Alexia home and have her to yourself for the night atlas it was wishful thinking. Sensing that your conversation was coming to an end Jana runs over and pulls Alexia over to the fans so that they can celebrate. She ushers for you to follow and you do so happily albeit a little bit slower so that you could enjoy the sight of your wife celebrate the moment she has been waiting the last 9 months for.

[applejuicefruit]

can u please write erling or jude, you pick i don’t mind, where reader gets like harassed by his fans online, like mean comments or mean twitters and reader never tells him and he finds out by himself and he’s a bit disappointed but he comforts reader and tells her how much he loves her please?

i picked jude for this one!

jude bellingham x reader

tw: mean comments, mention of hate, overall a lot of fluff

Haters gonna hate

The moment after the world cup, Jude’s fame became bigger and bigger. Not that he wasn’t already famous, he was, but - playing in front of millions of people got him a new wave of popularity he never excepted, and you couldn’t be happier for him, he was achieving everything he wished for. But you got dragged into this popularity thing too. You and Jude had been dating for over a year now, it wasn’t knew for his old fans as they always supported your relationship and made fanpages for the two of you. But, apparently, his new fans weren’t as thrilled as everyone was.

Of course, you weren’t to lie. Jude was pretty handsome, and for being so young a lot of girlies expected him to be single so they all went mad when they found out they were dating someone, you. You, who weren’t famous or a model or a celebrity, you were completely normal. Finishing your studies, being appassionate of arts and music. That’s what made them hate you the most - the fact that by just looking at you, they knew you weren’t anything special, just a girl like them and the fact that you were dating of the most popular football player at the moment.

So, instead of being happy for Jude they started hating you.

It first happened when you posted a picture for Christmas Day. It was a simple picture of you, Jude and your huge christmas tree in the background and what you didn’t expect was to see your comments section filled with hate.

The second time it happened it was when you posted a picture of the eternal city, Rome, when you were visiting it with your family. A lot of people said you were in Italy because you were cheating on Jude and how he didn’t deserve you, how he deserved someone better.

And so went on. Everytime you posted a picture you would see your comments section filled with hate, and honestly - you weren’t used to it.

“I can’t believe Jude is dating her” someone said.

“She’s so ugly, Jude could have everyone he wanted, why her?” another one said.

“Someone saves Jude from her, he clearly doesn’t love her!!” someone else said.

And those comments were the nicest. A lot of people commented on your appearance, how you weren’t made to date a football player for how simple you were. They commented on your looks, on your weight, on your style. Basically everything you posted about.

You got tired of it and decided to block all of those people and put your instagram in private mode.

So the hate started on Twitter.

“She really blocked me! That bitch…I can’t believe Jude is dating someone like her!” someone commented on twitter.

“Her royalty got her instagram in private mode so we can’t judge her…she might think she’s special lol” another girl said.

But what was worse is that it wasn’t you who who saw the comments - no - it was Jude. He was casually scrolling through his phone when his eyes landed on his name being the first thing to appear on Twitter.

Of course he was curious so he simply clicked on it.

He wasn’t really pleased with what he was reading. He immediately went into your insta to check if the comments were real and it broke his heart reading all of those mean comments about you.

He couldn’t believe someone would say something so mean to you, the most beautiful and kind person he ever met in his life.

He wanted to confront you about it.

“Babe…” he called you from the living room, knowing you were in the kitchen making some tea.

“Yes Jude?” you shouted from the door.

“Can you come here for a sec please?” he asked so you grabbed your hot tea and went straight into the living room, sitting on the couch next to him.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him.

“You tell me…” he looked at you a little worried and you probably already knew that he was referring to.

“Yes…everything’s good” you said not looking at him.

“Darling please…I saw the comments…I saw how you put your in instagram private, baby…why didn’t you tell me?” he softly asked you, not wanting to upset you.

“Because I didn’t want to bring you up in this! You don’t need any more dramas added to your life Jude and by the way I truly don’t care about those comments…” you lied and he could tell.

“My love, I know you’re hurting…but I want you to know that none of what you read is true okay? I need you to know that I’m so in love with you…” he scooped you into his arms “ you’re the most important person in my life, you’re the one I love and the one I want to spend the the rest of my life with…I love you…” he said smiling at you as you were fully crying now.

“I don’t deserve you Jude…” you said, your glossy eyes meeting his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you y/n…you’re too kind and special” he looked at you with lovey eyes “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have met someone like you, to have you in my life…you’re too kind for this world baby” he kissed your cheek as he gently wiped away your tears.

“I love you Jude…” you whispered laying your head on his chest.

“I love you more” he whispered and you smiled.

That night you finished drinking your tea as you both started watching some comedy show on a random channel.

Before going to bed Jude posted a picture of the two of you and decided to write some words for you.

“This person next to me is the kindest, funniest and brightest person in the world and I truly cannot believe how some “fans” mistreated her in the first place. I’ve read comments in the last days that made me shiver, how can someone be so cruel to a person you don’t even know? Is it jealousy? I truly don’t care what are your reasons but I want you all to stop immediately directing your hate to my girlfriend just because we’re dating. There’s clearly a reason if I’m dating her and not you btw…She doesn’t deserve all this hate and I want you all to stop please…you don’t know how your words can hurt someone, sometimes words hurt more than a punch, stop talking bad about y/n and go on with your lives, thank you!”

You were in bed smiling reading what Jude wrote about you.

“Thank you” you whispered to him as you laid on his chest.

He kissed your forehead “anything for you baby…I would do anything for you” he held you closer and stroked your hair gently, helping you falling asleep.

[luvgavii]

meeting the parents - (pg6)

request: hi! i was wondering if you could do an imagine where Gavi is scared about meeting your parents for the first time. good luck with the future of your account btw<3

summary: you take gavi with you to your mom’s birthday party where he meets your parents and family for the first time.

author’s note: hi anon! thank you sm for your request. i changed it up a tiny bit but i hope you don’t mind. thank you for your sweet words and hope you’ll send more requests <3

“Is this shirt okay? Or am I overdressed?” Pablo asked you over FaceTime while you two were getting ready to have dinner with your family for your mom’s birthday. 

“You should wear your black shirt so it can match my dress.” You said while putting in your gold earrings that Pablo got you a few weeks ago. “Are you nervous?” You giggled when you saw that he was struggling to button up his shirt while cursing in Spanish quietly. 

“Honestly, a little. But that’s normal, right?” He asked you looking at his phone, at you giving him a smile, the smile he loved so much. 

“Of course, but it’s going to be okay. You’ve met them before so it’s not like they are total strangers.” Which was true. There were multiple occasions when you were out with your boyfriend and met up accidentally on the street with your mom and dad. But they never really hung out or got to know each other properly, so that was why you were taking him with you to one of the fancy restaurants in Barcelona where your mom was celebrating her anniversary. 

What you didn’t know was that Gavi was properly nervous. Terrified even, he was terrified of the thought of not getting along with your parents, especially your dad and knowing how family oriented you were, the thought of him not getting along with your father made his stomach drop. But he promised himself he would impress your father. You told him multiple times what a big football fan your dad was, and how excited he got when he found out his little girl was dating the golden boy himself. This made Gavi confident he would sweep him off his feet tonight, but even so, he was sometimes overthinking. 

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽

One hour later, you and Gavi were walking hand in hand into the restaurant, being greeted with the friendly smiles of your family. 

“They’re here!” Your mom exclaimed as soon as she saw you two, getting up from her chair and almost running to you two, both you and Pablo giggling and letting go of each others hand so you could hug her. 

After she squeezed the life out of you, she went in to hug your boyfriend while complimenting his appearance over and over again. Gavi felt himself relax at your moms kind words, already knowing he would love her like his own. 

As you went to hug your uncles, aunts, and little cousins, Gavi moved towards your dad, hand out to shake his hand. While his stomach was doing turns, his face was confident and had on a big friendly smile, which your father returned.

“Heard many good things about you, Gavira.” Your father said while motioning to Gavi to sit down next to him. 

You sat next to Pablo, and soon enough you two were bombed with questions from your family. 

“How does it feel to be one of the youngest players ever to score in The World Cup?” One of your little cousins asked your boyfriend, who was still in shock that his cousin was dating the one and only, Pablo Gavi.

“It feels pretty good, not gonna lie.” Gavi laughed with your family while giving a kiss to your hand, and holding it over the table.

By the time the food came, everyone got so comfortable that jokes were flying from every side of the table.  Everyone besides the kids were already a little wine drunk.

Pablo leaned onto you, whispering in your ear how happy he was and how much he loved your family, how he felt at home with them. This made your heart so happy, you kissed him over and over again, earning a big “awww” from your family. 

That night was one of the best one’s of your life, one you would always remember and wouldn’t change for the world.

[i9messi]

Hello can i request with Mason?👀

Mase living his dream, with the reader ( she was his childhood crush, she’s a singer/actress) now they attend the same red carpet and he ask for her number and they get to know eachother

Celebrity crush — Mason Mount

Word count — 931

mason's masterlist

Mason had been invited to an award show, it wasn't the typical place he usually felt comfortable, but still liked to live a new experience. He had been standing in front of some of the cameras pointing in his direction when he heard the photographers shouting your well-known name. His eyes caught you in the crowd. It was you. His biggest crush. The same person who had captivated him since he had first seen you on TV.

Mason had seen you acting since he was a kid and you were the same age as him, and yet, despite being ten years old, he had fallen in love with you. As time went on, you stopped being a little girl, to become a teenager. And Mason was still in love with you. In the present, you were no longer a teenager, you were now a woman. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And you were standing just a few feet away, the closest you’d ever been.

The footballer could feel his heart rate begin to change when you walk through the red carpet, as if it belonged to you. Well, for Mason everyone and everything around him ceased to exist. You were his center of attention, the mirrorball that shone among all those people. And maybe it was the feeling of being seen so intensely, that made you turn to look at him.

You smiled at Mason. The moment seemed to last an eternity, in which the two looked at each other with curiosity.

"Are you okay, Mount?"

Mason finally came to his senses and looked at the man asking him that question. Some of the photographers had noticed the way the player had been standing there staring at you, even some of them had taken some pictures of his reaction. It wouldn’t take long to get those photos circulated around everywhere on social media.

"She looks so beautiful, doesn't she?" asked a member of the press and Mason didn’t even hide the way you made him feel.

"She is beautiful, mate."

However, once the gala started, he took a seat and his eyes found you again among all the lights. For the second time in the night, you also felt the weight of his gaze and decided to wink at him. The moment was interrupted when they announced the category in which you were nominated. Your face seemed to change suddenly, you were nervous about the result.

"And the award for best supporting actress goes to…"

Mason was hoping you’d get the award, wanted to see you smile and get on stage. His eyes closed for a moment waiting to hear your name come out of the presenter’s lips and when the man shouted your name, he saw you rise from your seat, unable to believe it.

He saw you again at the after party. The Brit was ordering a drink, when you suddenly appeared at his side.

"Hi, I’ve seen you before and haven’t had a chance to talk to you, Mason."

His name coming out of your lips nearly choked on the beer he was drinking. The man felt like he was a second away from verbally throwing up how much he admired you. Mason took a breath and calmed his heart,

"Congratulations on winning the award today, I knew you’d make it."

"Thank you, have you seen the movie or are you just being nice?"

Your question was genuine. Mason seemed like an interesting man to you and you hadn’t hesitated to approach him to have a conversation and see if you shared anything in common. During the awards ceremony you had been scared and nervous enough to be able to talk to someone, but now that all the emotional charge had left your body, you were eager to meet him. And to be honest, the looks the footballer had given you had been a little obvious. He caught your attention from the very first moment your eyes met.

"Well, to be honest, I’ve seen your movie more times than it’s normal to admit."

"Really? How many times?"

"I’m not going to say it, it’s embarrassing. You’ll think I’m a weird dude."

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I promise not to judge you."

Mason sighed and finally spoke, "Seven times."

"Wow, that’s a lot."

You let out a laugh. Mason ran his hand through his hair and looked at you. Were you always this pretty or were you even prettier today because of those lights and the happiness in the atmosphere?

"Well, now it is your turn to think I’m a weirdo. I'm a fan of yours."

"Stop, you’re lying."

Mason was internally screaming. His childhood crush, his celebrity crush, was saying that was his fan. It was something he was going to talk about for the rest of his days.

"I’m not lying, it’s the truth. I still haven’t been able to go in person to see you play, but I always watch the matches on TV."

Mason had an amazing idea.

"I’ll invite you to the next match, give me your number and I’ll get you free tickets."

You smiled, you didn’t need free tickets, but you were never gonna refuse to have Mason Mount’s number in your contacts. So when you started typing your number on his cell phone and you looked at him again, everything changed.

"Would you like to hang out?" you asked, expectant of his answer.

Mason smiled.

"Are you free now? I’m a little bored of this party."

That night, you went home with a trophy and Mason Mount.

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 17

Author's note: Sorry about this chapter being extremely short. I tried to think of something to add, but my brain is fried this week 😅 We only have four chapters left after this one, and I promise you they are way better and that important things are happening!

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"That was a nice car, wasn't it?" grandma said when I arrived at her house.

"It's just a car" I shrugged.

"Is it his? Did he drive you all the way from Manchester?"

"Who?" I said, playing dumb but already feeling my face burning.

"Your neighbour. The one you definitely don't fancy."

"Who do you not fancy?" grandad asked, showing up out of nowhere.

"Her neighbour."

"Rodri?"

"I already told you it's not him, grandad." 

"But you said his name starts with an R and he is the only one."

"And she also said that he wasn't a player. But that car was very football player like. So big and expensive..."

"You are not going to let it go, are you?" I said, letting out a big sigh.

"We are noisy, sweetheart. What can I say" grandad shrugged.

"Well, if you want me to ask him to get us some tickets for the City-Arsenal game, you better behave yourself."

"Wait, wait, wait" grandad said. "Seriously?"

"Yep. Next to Arsenal's bench if you want."

"I won't say another word, then" he said.

"Does that mean that you will finally invite us to visit you?" grandma asked.

"Only if you behave."

"We will. Won't we, love?" grandad said.

"We will" she smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"It'll be ok, sweetie" grandma said, giving my hand a little squeeze.

We were back at my parent's house. My old house.

My mother was throwing a party to celebrate her 50th birthday, and she had somehow convinced my dad to let me come. Apparently, he had relaxed a bit since I had gotten a job even if it was as a nanny. But with him, you never know. 

"Oh, you came!" my mother said when she saw me, giving me a hug.

"I promised I would, didn't I?"

"Thank you" she said, whipping away a tear. "You look so good. You are like glowing, which means that you must be happy."

"I am, yes. Happy birthday" I said, giving her my present.

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything! Can I open it now?"

"It's your birthday. You can do whatever you want" I smiled.

"Oh, darling! It is beautiful!" my mum said.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it! Since when do you have good taste picking gifts?" she laughed.

"I had a bit of help" I confessed. 

"Well, then tell you helper thank you from me" she said, hugging me again.

"I will."

"There you... Are" my father said from behind my mum.

"Hello dad."

"Hi" he said. 

"Look at her. Doesn't she look good?" my mum says.

He just nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Let's go sit and catch up for a bit before the other guests arrive" she said, grabbing my arm with one hand and my dad's with the other.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"So you got yourself a job, uh?" my father said. The party had been going for a few hours, and that was the first time he had talked to me directly, probably encouraged by the couple of drinks he had had.

"Yep."

"A nanny for a posh divorced woman."

"She isn't posh. She comes from a family like ours."

"But she still is divorced, isn't she?"

"She is, yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, not all" he said, taking another sip from his drink. "And you teach piano to her daughter."

"I do."

"Is she good?"

"She isn't bad, gets everything pretty fast. But she's more interested in football these days."

"Football" he snorted. "That will take her nowhere." 

"But at least she is doing what she likes, not what others like."

"I'm sorry" my dad muttered after a couple of minutes of awkward silence. 

"What?"

"I'm sorry" he said again. "For what I did to you. I shouldn't have been so... You know."

"You shouldn't have, no."

"Do you think... That maybe one day... We'll be able to... Have a normal relationship?" he asked, nervously playing with his glass.

"You already said sorry, which is the most difficult part. So maybe."

"Good... Good" he said, going back to the party. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"He said sorry?" 

"Yep."

"It's a beginning" Rúben said. While I was with my family he had stayed in London meeting with some friends, and now he was also driving me back together to Manchester. 

"Yeah" I sighed. "But I don't think he'll like you."

"Why not?" Rúben chuckled.

"He thinks football players are dumb, earn way too much money, and that it is a pointless career choice."

"He isn't wrong about the money. But I'll prove him wrong about everything else" he said with that smirk of his.

[l1lk4]

I can understand not liking vini,thinking Madrid was rude for not going,or saying that Rodri deserved it but to go online as studio host and someone who has a podcast about football and while talking about who deserves to win and who didn’t and why,to say with pure hatred that he’s super arrogant and classless for flying his family out to what he was told and believed would be a big achievement in his career?that his arrogance is off the scale for planning a party and he should be disqualified for it?Are we going to act like Rodri’s party just magically happened and people appeared out of thin air?There’s nothing wrong with flaying family out,players did it before,there’s also nothing wrong with planning a party,unless it’s vini according to Rebecca Lowe I guess,did players who flew their family out before were called super arrogant as well?

Another thing is saying vini is arrogant on the pitch,but Rodri grabbing people’s throat,pushing them and starting fights is just pure class and fair play?I’m in no way going to say vini is a complete saint because he does have his faults but if people want to say Rodri should’ve won they should find a better argument because this one is a bit ridiculous,especially when people like Messi have won the ballon d’or multiple times at that with his behavior not being classy and fair play.Martinez won the yashin trophy which had the same requirement “class and fair play” and I think we all saw his behavior which he was praised for on the stage while receiving his trophy.If you want to point out bad behavior on pitch you should stick to it when it comes to all players not just some.I’m also not saying it’s due to him being a Madrid player because cause many have won it from Madrid before and while there might be some issues between UEFA and RM I don’t think this it’s the reason here,and clearly many people have take this opportunity to unleash their hatred god why and spew some hypocritical bullshit.

Nobody can tell me that there isn’t racism in that,because what do you call it when journalist asked about why he voted for Rodri one of the things he says is that he doesn’t have social media and went to college?And then tried to back out of it and argued with people in the comments on Twitter?Why aren’t other people called out on their “arrogance” while dancing during celebrations?When they show the score to other players in their fingers to “taunt them”(personally I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that)?When they argue with referees?Why are others not told they lack class when fans call the insults and they do/say something back?

Also the fact that people are making fun of him for standing up against racism?Why on earth would you EVER make fun of ANYONE standing against racism?There are chants prepared for him that insult him and make fun of him,people make drawings showing him hung on a rope,people hung effigy of him from a bridge,why would he stay silent? Just before one of the games atletico Madrid played(not with Real Madrid) fans before match were chanting he should die.Is that normal?

The double standard is coming from a place of racism,i can completely understand that the person who you don’t like can piss you off easier and much faster,but if the same action from other people is totally fine then why his isn’t?There were literally players like zlatan,Diego costa who till this day are praised for their behavior.

Once again I’m not making excuses for vini because he has his share of wrong doings on and off the pitch(I myself am still pissed off about that nasty Twitter post) but you cannot say he’s wrong for some of his behaviors and then turn around and praise others for it,or say you like that behavior and then complain when vini does it.Just the other day I came across someone saying one the players shown in the video wasn’t at fault because he was pushed and then he pushed the other players back,fair enough,and then he was asked a question if it’s done the vini shouldn’t he react?And he answered he doesn’t know,so it’s fine for other players to do it and even encourages them to do so but it’s not the same answer for vini?

And this isn’t only vini that experiences racism,there’s a ton of racism especially on social media,towards black players for example saka,tchouameni,camavinga,Jude,and many many others,all of which is absolutely unacceptable and all of it is absolutely unprovoked,because there is no reason for racism towards anyone.And there seems to be a very popular belief especially in football that racism can be provoked.People want black players to be living in a shadow,always with a smile on their face and never complain or react and god forbid they don’t play well, you can see it every time they react or don’t play well just the insane amount of racist insults towards them,the euros for example made my head spin with the amount of slurs I saw.They want them to act like kante,and they want to treat them in that same condescending way that is hard to watch.

[moonystoes]

Long yap session:

I was watching the match with my dad. He had the afcon match on the tv and I was watching it with him too but I also had my laptop on the couch to watch the lyon vs psg match. He made a comment about 'why are you watching a normal league game if there is a final right now'. And then I had to tell him about the whole rivalry between lyon and psg since he only watches the men.

My dad is the weird kind who makes sexist comments but also defends women, I noticed a pattern that when he makes the sexist joke he usually looks at my reaction. I guess he just likes making me angry, when I realized, I just gave him a small response without reacting. And he stopped. He also said 'why would I watch women play, they get tired after 5 minutes' and then went like 👀👀. I think he spent watching the girls play more than the afcon match 😭😭...oh he also said Sakina was beautiful, he started asking for their nationalities and positions. He also complimented Chawinga and when he saw elisa he was like 'thats a guy right there'. I was about to make a joke like 'oh I thought you would never watch women football' but I lowkey didn't want him to stop watching so I just answered his questions normally.

I had to go drink some water so I stopped the match (I was watching it on dazn and you can stop the stream). When I went back, I continued the stream from where I stopped. Dad was like, "why don't you just watch live"

"I can't what if I miss something."

"Come on they're definitely winning, psg was dominating the whole match." (So he was watching 👹)

"No but what if lyon scores I don't want to do this."

Dad presses the 'continue on live' button

Elisa is on the screen, lyon is celebrating a goal.

😦😦😦

I turned to baba like YOUU MF I CANT BELIEVE YOU DID THIS

HE LAUGHED AT ME, HE SAW ME AND LAUGHED.

When they replayed the part he GIGGLED. but he also said 'lyon couldn't score a goal a psg player had to do it'...thank you I guess?? Is that a compliment? An insult? Idk.

When they were playing for added time, everytime elisa had the ball he would say 'look she's gonna score the second goal' ☹️☹️

I was so fucking heartbroken I WANTED TO CRY SEEING ELISA LIKE THAT.