#manchester city wfc

[chelseacult]

Love You A Little Bit

Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: you're always encouraging Leila to practice her English.

Word Count: 6.5k words

You knew facing Manchester United at Old Trafford wouldn’t be easy. The roaring applause every time a United player surges forward or makes a clean tackle. The solidity of their defense at your every attempt to attain a spot on the scoresheet. This environment was nothing new. Still, what you weren’t expecting was to walk off the pitch 2-0 down at halftime. 

You walk up to Mary, who eagerly grabs her water bottle from the cooler. She sees you approaching and grabs yours too, holding it out in your direction.

“Thank you,” you say as you grab it from her. “If they keep intercepting my crosses, I’m gonna go crazy,” you add before chugging the rest of the water in your bottle.

“Keep trying! I’ll get on the end of one eventually. Probably,” Mary shrugs, laughing slightly before following suit and chugging the remnants from her water bottle. You let out a matching laugh at her words. Mary spares you a quick smile before she turns to converse with Alanna. With Mary’s attention elsewhere, you use this opportunity to search for the person you’re most eager to speak with. When your eyes finally land on Leila, she’s speaking with Jill near the city goal, both of them looking dispirited. 

You start walking in their direction, crossing nearly half the field to reach them. You approach just as the two women are separating from a quick embrace that Leila initiated, your girlfriend ever the affectionate type. Jill gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she walks past you. 

“Score next time!” you call after her, glancing back with a grin. By the time she replies, you’re already looking at Leila, reaching a hand out for her, so you miss the matching grin you can hear in Jill’s voice. “You first!” Jill shouts back, continuing her walk to the locker room.

Leila stifles a laugh at the interaction, reaching for the hand that you have extended toward her. She turns and begins to lead you two off the pitch, only walking about a foot before you pull her back into a hug. She immediately melts into you, and you feel her hands pressing against the small of your back as you hold each other. 

“45 more minutes. We’ve got this,” you attempt to console the woman in your arms. You feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the warmth of her body pressed against yours almost acting as a barrier from the commotion of the grueling first half. For a second, neither of you moves, just enjoying the shared warmth in the brisk Manchester weather. She eventually pulls back and nods, but you can tell she doesn’t really believe your words.

“Not if I keep playing like this,” Leila sighs heavily in frustration. Her shoulders slump ever so slightly as she removes her hands from your body and runs them down her face. You know her well enough to know that her thoughts are likely working against her after the team’s less-than-ideal defensive performance.

“I believe in you,” you speak softly, taking her hands gently in yours. You pull them up to your mouth to press a tender kiss to each set of knuckles. Her eyes search yours, looking for any indication that you’re not being completely truthful. Obviously, she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. But from the way her eyes soften, you’re guessing she likes what she finds there instead.

“My number one fan, hmm?” Leila teases, her voice lighter as she seems to perk up at your words. A faint smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, and the weight on her shoulders seems to lift a bit.

“Duh,” you speak confidently, leaving her no option but to fully believe your words this time. She rolls her eyes affectionately before lifting your hands to her mouth and mirroring your actions, placing a quick kiss on each knuckle. You’re not the least bit surprised at the warmth that erupts in your chest.

“Thief,” you say lightheartedly, referring to Leila copying your gesture. You’re completely aware that your voice sounds slightly winded as a result of feeling her lips on your skin. She moves your hands away from her mouth but keeps hold of them.

“I want you to feel how I felt when you did it to me,” she says earnestly. And while you’re still not surprised by the way she has your heart skipping a beat, you do still struggle to grapple with how she does it so effortlessly. 

“How did you feel?” you can’t resist asking, hoping she’ll take the bait and reveal that she’s feeling everything you’re feeling right now.

“You tell me,” she urges with a tilt of her head, her smile widening.

“Excuse me! I asked you first,” you press further, amusement in your voice.

“I’ll answer for the both of you. You love each other. Amazing. Let’s go!” Khiara interrupts with a playful laugh that you both echo. She shuffles between you two, wraps one of her arms around both of your respective shoulders, and leads the way to the locker room. 

Alex is already speaking by the time the three of you arrive at the locker room, the energy a mix of unintelligible conversation and low motivation. You and Leila walk over to your locker and settle on the bench perched in front of it. As you sit side by side, you begin to playfully take turns nudging each other’s leg, almost like a quiet game of footsie. You tune in to Alex’s words as she shifts her attention to the City defense.

“We need to talk about defense. They’re cutting through us like we’re not even there,” she speaks, looking back and forth between the other three defenders. 

Kerstin is the first to respond. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m shattered. Anyone else think they got faster since the last time we played them?”

“Right? I was thinking the same thing. They’re barely letting me pass,” you agree. Kerstin enthusiastically nods and gestures a hand your way, silently emphasizing your words.

Leila, who had been sitting next to you quietly with her arms crossed, leans forward eagerly. 

“It is because we are not keeping our shape. If Laia moves to the right by Kerstin and I stay left, they will move outside.” Leila stops her rant momentarily to look over at Alex. “Alex, you are always good. I have no advice.”

“I am already on the right! You are the one drifting,” Laia defends.

“I do not drift. I reposition to cover everyone else,” Leila argues back.

Alex holds back a grin at their arguing before allowing it to drop and speaking seriously. “I don’t know, Leila. If we’re spread too thin, they can manipulate the gaps.”

Viv chimes in. “Yeah, and like Kerstin said, their forwards are fast. If we force them out, there’s a chance we don’t recover.”

Leila’s face falls slightly. “It was just an idea,” she mutters under her breath, crossing her arms and leaning back slightly, her weight pressing against your side.

While your teammates brainstorm other ideas, you nudge her with your elbow, leaning in closer. “I think it’s a good idea,” you say softly. 

“You are the only one,” she smiles slightly, but her gaze remains stuck on the floor. The faint scratches on the tiles hold her attention as if they’re the most interesting things she’s ever seen.

“Well, I matter the most,” you shrug before nudging her again, willing her to look at you. You notice that her smile has shifted into something more genuine when she shifts her attention to you. She reaches a hand forward and traces a finger down your cheek, her touch lingering for a minute.

“Alright, Leila, we’re trying your plan. It’s the best one we’ve got,” Alex decides. Leila attempts to hide the excitement in her nod as Alex continues. “Everyone needs to step it up. Cover for each other. We can’t keep giving them so much space to work with.” Everyone takes in her words before they begin to empty out of the locker room.

Leila turns to you as you both get up from the bench and begin to follow the others out of the room. “It will help if you go up the wing faster when we yell to press. If you are fast, we can counterattack,” she says encouragingly.

“Do you mean, like, a high press or just marking?” you ask for clarification as you reach the door, pressing your back against it to keep it open for her.

 Leila stops in front of you as she searches for the right words. “When we all go forward. What is that?”

“Pressure?” you suggest. You reach up and brush a rogue piece of hair out of her face, and she absentmindedly leans into your touch.

“Sí! I said that,” she exclaims as grabs your hand, directing the two of you to begin walking toward the field again. 

“You said ‘press,’ babe. It’s not the same,” you tease with a playful smile and a squeeze of her hand.

“English is ridiculous,” Leila sighs, throwing her head back exasperatedly, but she squeezes your hand back a couple times.

“It’s a good thing you have a live-in English tutor then,” Lauren jokes, having been listening to your conversation from behind you as you walk. She grins as you and Leila laugh in response, not waiting for either of you to reply before she rushes ahead of you and onto the pitch.

Leila straightens up and glances at you with a playful grin. “I do not need help. I am almost like a native speaker.”

“Because of me!” you insist with a matching grin, bumping the side of your body into hers. 

“As a thank you, I buy you dinner when we get back home,” Leila offers as she slides her hand from yours. The smell of freshly cut grass takes over your senses as you step onto the pitch.

“Deal,” you reply. Leila shoots you one last smile before the two of you separate, running to your respective positions.

⟡

Leila’s plan was successful, aiding Manchester City in recording a 3-2 comeback win. United’s defense finally let you through long enough to set up a chance for Mary before netting two in the back of the net yourself.

At the final whistle, Leila beelines to you. “Vamos, mi amor!” she screams excitedly before wrapping her arms around you and lifting you off the ground for a minute. 

“Two goals in two minutes! Increíble!” she adds, placing you back down on the grass. The way she’s smiling at you when she pulls back makes your knees weak, and you feel like you could melt into the grass beneath your feet. You hope the look on your face accurately reflects the amount of adoration you feel for her

“Enough about me, baby, you were amazing! I told you! 45 minutes was all we needed,” you tell her with matching excitement.

“We were amazing,” she counters, her smile unwavering.

“Yeah, you’re both amazing. Don’t forget my assist,” Jill interrupts with a smug grin and wink in your direction. 

“Who passed you that ball, eh?” Leila reminds the midfielder, giving a gentle shove to Jill’s shoulder.

“I don’t remember,” she says with a shrug, her tone indicating that she absolutely does remember.

“Too distracted by my worldie?” you chime in, flashing Jill a grin. “I think the second goal was one of my best.”

Leila responds with an enthusiastic “It was!” at the same moment Jill says, “Of course not. You just got luck.” Her remark earns a gasp from Leila. 

“She was lucky two times?” Leila asks with raised eyebrows.

“Exactly,” Jill affirms, unable to keep the serious look on her face from turning into a smile.

“If you’re really that upset that you’re not on the scoresheet, I can bribe the officials to say one of my goals was yours,” you say with faux sympathy present in your voice and on your face, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

Jill chuckles at your words. “Good. I think that’s fair, especially after how good my assist was.”

“You forgot I had to chase the ball halfway down the field before passing to you?” Leila asks, clearly amused.

“Fine, team effort,” Jill gives in. “But my assist made it cool.”

Before either of you can respond, a voice calls out from behind you. “Leila! [Y/N]! Interview time!”

Leila groans at the interruption, and you match her annoyance as you glare in the direction of the voice, neither of you fans of doing media. Jill only laughs, clearly amused by your irritation. 

“Have fun!” Jill exclaims before you part ways with her, you and Leila heading to the woman waiting to interview you both on the sidelines. 

You answer all of the interviewer’s questions with ease, the nervousness you’re feeling never once coming to the surface—one of your greatest strengths if you do say so yourself. When the woman shifts her questioning to Leila, you pass her the microphone that’s been residing in your hands for the last several minutes.

Through a thick accent, the interviewer speaks. “So, Leila, we heard from Alex that putting pressure high up the field was your idea! United seemed to really struggle with getting through the City side during the second half. What exactly did you see from United in the first half that made you think this was the right move?” 

You can almost guarantee from the look on Leila’s face and her intense eye contact with the interviewer that she’s struggling to make out what exactly she’s being asked. Your assumption is confirmed upon Leila thrusting the microphone back into your hands, silently asking you to take this one.

You keep the microphone low to ensure it doesn’t pick up on the encouraging words you send Leila’s way—your words a combination of you can do it and don’t overthink it. You try to pass the microphone back to her, but she just stares down at it for a beat before glancing up at you with a pleading look in her eyes.

Despite your heart screaming at you to come to her aid, you’re completely confident in her ability to formulate an answer (even if she doesn’t feel that confidence herself), so you don’t budge. She eventually takes the microphone back and attempts to answer the question. She stumbles over her words here and there, but the encouraging nod you give her every time she glances your way seems to motivate her to keep trying.

“Thank you for your time, girls, and congratulations on the win!” the interviewer finally speaks, unknowingly providing Leila a lifeline. You both thank the woman in return. Leila quickly grabs your hand and drags you down the tunnel before coming to an abrupt stop once you’re a decent ways away from anyone else. 

She drops your hand and turns to look at you, an unreadable expression on her face. Still, you have an idea about why she might be staring at you like this. 

“Don’t be mad at me. You did good!” you reassure as you step closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and smiling up at her.

Her resolve falters at that, wrapping her arms around your neck in return. “You are lucky I love you. It was embarrassing.”

“You don’t need my help, remember? You’re like a native speaker,” you tease her with reference to her comment during halftime. She purses her lips and holds back a smile. You do the opposite, letting out a laugh that prompts her to let her smile appear. She shortly follows in your footsteps and joins in your laughter.

“That reminds me,” Leila starts, moving her hands down to your hips and pushing you back against the tunnel wall with a soft thud. 

She leans in, and she’s close enough that you can feel her breath on your ear. She just hovers there, breathing against you, and you struggle to contain the shiver that makes its way through your body. She places several featherlight kisses on the shell of your ear, one of her hands trailing down your neck and resting in the curve between your neck and shoulder. Her thumb runs along your collarbone. 

“Dinner is on you,” she whispers. She punctuates her words with a light tug of your earlobe between her teeth before pulling away from you completely. You exhale, only now realizing you’d been holding your breath. It takes you a minute to realize that she’s waiting for you to take her outstretched hand, only noticing because she’s wiggling her fingers. She laughs at your delay as you reach for it, interlocking your fingers with hers and allowing her to lead the way to the locker room.

⟡

“No, absolutamente no. No voy a hacer eso,” Leila adamantly declines your suggestion to speak to the restaurant staff in English.

“This is the perfect time to practice,” you encourage her with a smile and a squeeze of her knee. She groans and drops her head onto your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. She mumbles something under her breath that you struggle to make out, but the feeling of her breath on your neck gives you goosebumps. You grab the menu with one hand while your other hand wraps around her.

“Babe, look, spaghetti. You can say that, no problem.” You manually move her head off of your shoulder and point to the menu. She sits up begrudgingly before looking at the menu and then back at you with an unimpressed expression.

“Come on, practice with me. Pretend I’m the waitress,” you attempt to convince the stubborn woman sitting next to you. 

She smirks at that, raising her eyebrows and leaning a bit closer. “I did not know you like roleplay, bebé.” You scoff and push her away, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from turning up into a smile despite how hard you try. 

“We will talk about that later,” Leila affirms with a peck to your shoulder before looking back down at the menu. “Spaghetti,” she mumbles to herself.

You wait for her to look up at you before speaking. “Hello, I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I get for you?” you say in your best customer service voice. 

She briefly hesitates before speaking in your direction. “Hola, I want spaghetti, please,” she matches your false excitement, keeping her eyes on you and waiting for your approval.

“Perfect! Just say ‘hello’ instead of ‘hola,’” you remind your girlfriend.

“Ah, sí. Hello,” she smiles at you.

“Hi,” you smile back. Leila laughs that infectious laugh of hers that you’ll never tire of hearing. Your heart still flutters every time you hear it, especially when it results from something you’ve said. 

She scoots even closer, leaving almost no space between your bodies. She cups your face with both hands and quickly kisses your lips several times before pulling back slightly, her thumbs moving languidly along the curve of your jaw.

“We cannot do this if I am on the other side,” she refers to her constant insistence that you both sit on the same side of the booth when you go out, citing a desire to be near you whenever possible. You roll your eyes at her statement now, just as you did when she first joined you on your side of the booth all those years ago with the same reasoning. The small smile on your face both times tells her that your eye roll isn’t malicious. 

When the waitress approaches your table, you put some space between the two of you but grab her hand to keep some contact. The waitress introduces herself and takes your order before turning toward Leila. “And for you?” she asks kindly.

Leila hesitates for a moment and glances over at you. You give her an encouraging nod before she looks back over at the waitress. Leila opens her mouth before shutting it again and pointing to the spaghetti on the menu.

“Spaghetti?” the waitress confirms, and Leila nods. “Good choice. We’ll have your food out shortly.” 

“Thank you,” you say as the waitress walks away before you turn to Leila, who is seemingly avoiding eye contact with you.

“Leila!” you gently nudge her shoulder with yours.

“Qué? I order spaghetti like you said. You should be proud of me,” she shrugs and smiles smugly. 

“You were supposed to use words like we practiced,” you punctuate your complaint with a gentle nudge of your knee against hers.

She shrugs again, “Same result. I do not even like spaghetti a lot. You should have picked something else for me to get,” Leila says with a dismissive wave in your direction.

“You should’ve looked through the menu yourself,” you exclaim, “you had ample time to change what you were getting. We were waiting for like an hour.”

“I focus on saying it right. Then the woman was here, and too late,” Leila trails off with a sigh. 

Before you can comprehend what she’s doing, Leila grabs the straw out of her drink and flicks it toward you. A tiny splash of soda splattering across your arm and shirt. The cold droplets make you flinch slightly, and your ears are graced with her laugh again. 

“Oops,” she says. Her voice is heavy with mock innocence, clearly not sorry as she twirls the straw between her fingers.

You gasp. “And to think I was just about to offer you half of my pizza!” You move your hand with the intention of grabbing your straw to do the same thing she did, but her hand darts out and grabs it before you can. She places a kiss on the back of it before scooting near you again.

“Oh, lo siento. Lo siento.” She repeats the words a few times, cupping one side of your face and kissing your cheek after every couple of words. Her face remains just inches from yours when she asks, “What flavor is the pizza?”

“You were sitting right there when I ordered. Were you not paying attention to me?” you ask, feigning offense.

“No, no, I was busy looking at how beautiful you are. Obviamente!” Leila says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, placing one last playful, sloppy kiss on your cheek. You dramatically wipe the remnants of her kiss off your face.

“Pineapple,” you reveal before she can comment on your wiping off her kiss. She makes a noise of disgust and looks at you with a face of pure disbelief, like she genuinely can’t fathom why someone would order such an entree. 

“Ugh, no good. Eres tan rara.” Despite her words, she wraps her arms around your neck and leans into you. You follow her lead and wrap your arms around her, leaning your head on hers.

“Spaghetti for you then, my love,” you say before placing a matching kiss on her temple, although she doesn’t wipe yours off.

⟡

The blaring sound of your alarm is a stark contrast to the warm, peaceful energy that had previously encompassed the room. The Spaniard wrapped around you makes no move to reach over and end the disturbance, and neither do you. A silent battle that you two partake in every morning. Leila’s eventual stirring lets you know that she’ll likely be the one to fold this morning. But, for the moment, she tightens her hold on you.

“Mmm, estúpido despertador. Quiero que desaparezca,” she murmurs into your hair as you nuzzle further into her chest, stalling her leaving the bed momentarily. Exhaustion typically draws Leila back to the comfort of her native language. Having just woken up, it takes you a minute to catch her Spanish words before replying.

​​

“It was your idea to put it on the dresser,” you whisper wearily before reluctantly pulling away from her embrace to allow her to get up. 

“You should have told me not to do it.” She attempts to crawl over you to climb out of the bed, but your hands dart out, firmly grasping her hips. The sudden halt stops Leila in her path and leaves her straddling you. 

One of your hands moves to the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to hover just near yours. You pay her soft gasp no mind as you mutter, “I did tell you,” against her lips. Before she has a chance to reply, you lean up and press your lips to hers, albeit a little too passionately for this early in the morning. Not that she minds, judging by the way she kisses you back with matching, feverish intensity. 

Leila pulls back, one hand gripping yours to remove it from her neck. Her free hand pries your other hand away from her hip, which still holds firmly. 

“A little early for you, no?” she asks rhetorically with a smirk before pinning your hands to the bed. 

She leans closer to you, not close enough to kiss but close enough that you can feel every breath she takes. She just stares down at you, and you swear her eyes darken the longer she looks. The unmistakable heat in her gaze almost makes you shiver. 

She leans in again, brushing her lips against yours for a split second before changing directions and pressing them to your neck. She places a few warm kisses up the juncture of your neck, eventually switching between sucking and gently biting. It’s your turn to gasp when she focuses all of her attention on the sensitive spot behind your ear. 

“Olvidé que eres sensible ahí mismo,” she pulls back to whisper alluringly in your ear before focusing her attention on the matching spot on the other side of your neck. It also takes you a minute to translate this sentence, but this time, it’s for an entirely different reason.

The feeling of her mouth, teasing and deliberate, paired with the growing heat between you, is enough to distract from the ringing of the alarm clock that Leila still hasn’t shut off—until it isn’t.

Leila pulls back again, quickly kissing your lips before climbing out of the bed. “Lo siento, cariño, that ringing is making me crazy,” she notes before continuing her earlier pursuit of turning off the alarm.

“Why?” you trail off with a dramatic groan, pulling the blanket to cover your eyes as Leila also opens the curtains while she’s up.  

“Sun is good for you.” Leila trails back over you and sits on the edge of the bed before attempting to pull the comforter down to reveal your face. You let her do so only to glare up at her. It’s short-lived though as you’re unable to stop the smile that takes over your face upon seeing her grin down at you. This inability to stay serious around her remains a constant struggle.

“We’re in the sun enough during practice.”

“No practice today, so we do this,” Leila gestures over to the window that has quickly become the bane of your existence. “Get up, por favor,” she says with a gentle shake of your shoulders.

“Why?” you question her for a second time.

“Because. Vamos, levantarse!” she answers vaguely, standing up from the bed and grabbing your hand to pull you up into a sitting position. She begins to walk toward the doorway while you remain seated on your bed.

“I’m not convinced,” you call after her.

“I will see you downstairs,” she calls back, flashing you a smile before exiting the room, completely aware that you’ll follow shortly after. 

After scrolling on your phone for several minutes, you finally rise up from the bed. You close the curtains that your girlfriend so rudely opened and begin to make your way to the kitchen where she likely resides, if the smell of roasting coffee beans is anything to go by.

Leila is standing near the coffee pot with a bewildered look on her face when you enter the kitchen. Her confusion quickly turns into a smile when she notices your presence. She picks up the full mug of coffee resting on the counter.

“Para ti, mi vida,” she says as she extends the mug toward you.

“English, remember,” you remind her, taking the coffee from her hands and kissing her on the cheek in return. “Thank you, baby.”

“You did not care about my Spanish earlier this morning.” Leila places her hands on your waist, pulling you into her slightly. You smile at her over the top of the mug as you bring it up to your mouth and take a sip. If you’re using the mug to shield the slight flush that has overtaken your face as a result of her words, that’s no one’s business but yours.

As the coffee hits your tastebuds, your face instantly contorts in disgust. Without thinking, you spit it back into the cup. Leila’s face drops at your actions, and she pulls away from you.

“Ugh, see! This is not working anymore,” Leila says, annoyance present in her voice as she looks at you. 

You can’t help the way your heart slightly drops at her words. “What’s not working?”

“This,” she repeats and gestures rapidly between the two of you. She offers no further explanation, but you note the seriousness on her face. You look down at the mug in your hands, hoping that somewhere in the coffee resides the answer to your question. But the liquid offers no answers. You glance back up at her.

“We’re not working anymore?” you press with your eyebrows raised. You’re sure your internal bafflement is being reflected by the look on your face.

“No. Obviously, we are not,” she says again. The way your heart drops only amplifies at her clarification. You place the mug down on the counter and step closer to her. She notices the confusion on your face and continues speaking before you can ask any follow-up questions.

“This,” she starts, walking over to where the coffee machine sits on the counter, “is not working. I cannot make coffee for you in this machine. It is too old.” She inspects the machine, similar to how you inspected your coffee just now. She’s likely looking for answers just as you did, though her question concerns the machine’s ability to work properly where yours regarded the state of your relationship.

“You’re talking about the coffee machine?” you ask, letting out a sigh of relief before she even confirms the miscommunication.

“Yes,” she answers, your earlier confusion now being reflected on her face as she notices your reaction to her words. “Está bien. If you want to keep it, we can. I will keep trying,” she says comfortingly, unaware of the internal turmoil you just experienced.

“No, you’re right, it’s old. We can get a new one,” you say, still reeling. You reach over for your mug before thinking better of it and placing it back on the counter.

“Why are you being weird?” she asks with a nervous laugh as she reaches around you to grab your mug from the counter. She turns toward the sink and dumps the coffee down the drain.

“I’m not,” you respond, moving around the counter to sit on the stool across from her. Leila remains standing in the kitchen, her disapproving hum barely audible over the quiet clink of her placing the mug in the dishwasher.

“You are,” Leila counters as she shuts the dishwasher and focuses all of her attention on you. When you don’t reply, she tilts her head slightly, raising one of her eyebrows.

“It’s fine. I’m fine, Lei,” you brush it off, hoping she won’t press you any further.

“Tell meee,” she draws out as she follows your earlier path, rounding the corner and coming up behind you. She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her head on your shoulder. “Tell me!” she demands again, giving your body a gentle shake. You’re nearly certain from her tone that she’s pouting at you.

“I-,” you start, but before you can get any more words out, Leila turns your stool around so you’re facing in her direction. “I thought you were trying to say that our relationship isn’t working,” you reveal quietly, looking away from her intense eye contact for a moment, slightly embarrassed at your misunderstanding. 

Her face falls. “Ah, no! Nunca, mi vida. It is perfect,” she reassures earnestly before pulling you into a tight hug, lifting her leg to rest her bent knee on the side of the stool you’re sitting on, leaning closer to you. You hug her back without a second thought (or, really, without a first conscious thought). She pulls back after a prolonged minute or so.

“Now you know how it feels,” she refers to your misinterpretation of her earlier words, Leila typically the one to misunderstand what you’re saying when you speak English with each other. 

“Is it this embarrassing for you every time?” She considers your question briefly, eventually deciding on a simple “No.”

“Whatever,” you mutter and gently push her away. The lack of effort in your action tells her that you don’t actually want her to move away from you. You share a smile as she indeed picks up on this and leans back in, resting her forehead on yours.

“This is why I work on my English. And you work on your English teaching skills,” she teases.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a laugh and a gasp. “I try my best. My student is difficult sometimes.”

“Grosero. I am easy.” You hold back a smirk at the innuendo in her words, the double meaning completely lost on her. 

“Yes, you are,” you agree, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead in an attempt to hide the growing grin on your face.

“You are laughing?” You shake your head at her question and pull her into another hug, hoping it’ll distract her from the conversation.

It does.

⟡

“Leila!” you groan as she steals the ball right from under your feet. 

“I am too fast for you, amor, eh?” she teases as she runs past you, a smirk present on her face.

“Show-off,” you mutter upon closing the distance that she put between you. She gently kicks the ball back over to you, and you pass it back. The two of you fall into a steady back and forth as the ball bounces between your feet.

“I have an idea,” Leila eventually says, resting her foot on the ball you’ve just passed her way. “You run past me and score. I defend.”

“Easy,” you say confidently, gesturing in a silent ask for the ball back. 

“Vale, show me,” she says before kicking the ball back in your direction, gesturing for you to start running.

At her insistence, you start running down the field with the ball at your feet. You’ve barely run for ten seconds before she’s intercepting your path with a tackle that sends you to the ground. You groan again as she successfully ruins your plan for the second time.

She jumps to her feet, rushing over to where you’re sprawled out dramatically. “Estás bien?” she asks, and you can hear the concern in her voice. You nod as she offers you both of her hands, but before she can pull you up, you tug her down to the ground with you. You share a laugh as she lands beside you before she leans closer, her face hovering just above yours. She looks down at you with a smirk that you’re no stranger to. “That was me going easy on you, by the way.”

“You’re annoying,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach up to brush a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Despite your words, her smirk softens into something warmer. “You love me still, sí?”

“Obviously,” you say lightly. She looks at you expectantly, and you know exactly what she’s waiting for. “I love you,” you borderline whisper. Disregarding the annoyance you were just feeling toward the Spanish woman, you attempt to pour all the love you can muster into your declaration. She deserves it. 

“Hmm, how much?”

“Too much for me to comprehend sometimes,” you admit. Sometimes you’re awed by how soft she makes you. Her gaze softens at your words, the affection in her eyes matching that which is present in yours whenever you so much as think about her.

“Te quiero tantito,” she murmurs as her fingertips brush up and down your arm. You’re not surprised in the slightest at the feeling of goosebumps that follows.

You tilt your head. “Tantito? What is that?”

“It means, ‘I love you a little bit.’” Her lips turn up into a half-smile. 

“A little bit?” you say with a raised eyebrow in disbelief. A flicker of amusement crosses her face before she lets out a soft laugh, her smile growing into a full grin.

“Mhm. It is like a joke, no? Because, obviously, I love you a lot,” she corrects. “Maybe we stop with my English and focus on your Spanish.”

You give her a smile in return and shake your head. 

“We can start lessons now. Say ‘golazo.’ The thing you did not score past me,” she clarifies with a laugh, this one more hearty than the one she graced your ears with moments ago. You’re unable to stop the laugh that she pulls from you.

“Golazo. You’ve taught me that word already,” you remind her.

“Oh, bien! That means ‘good.’” Before you can reiterate that your Spanish knowledge isn’t this limited, she continues with a grin. “Now you say, ‘Leila es el amor de mi vida.’”

Your cheeks warm as you’re again able to make out what she’s wanting you to say. You hold her gaze. “Leila es el amor de mi vida,” you say, sincerity present in your voice.

Her grin melts into something tender. “Good job,” she murmurs, the adoration in her voice impossible to miss. She leans down to kiss you, and you bask in it for a minute before she pulls back, lingering close enough for her breath to merge with yours. “It means-”

“I know what it means, baby,” you cut her off gently, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of her so close.

“What about this one? ‘Tú también eres el amor de mi vida,’” she asks, adoration still present in both her voice and the way she’s gazing down at you.

“Thank god. Imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been for me if I wasn’t yours,” you reply, only half joking and once again not needing her translation. 

Her laugh rings out, and you can’t imagine being happy without hearing it every day for the rest of your life.

a/n: honestly this wasn’t supposed to be this long but I got carried away and kinda steered off course. anyway I don’t know a word of spanish and used google translate so please feel free to tell me if anything needs editing! thank you!!!

[alotofpockets]

Clingy | Vivianne Miedema x Man City!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

You had been at City for a few years now, and your teammates knew you well. They knew you loved the team, and hanging out together, but they also knew that you weren’t as affectionate as most of them were. 

Never did your teammates think anything of you not being affectionate with them. It wasn’t something everyone enjoyed, and they knew that. They were just happy to have you around.

However when Viv joined the team, all of a sudden they saw a shift in your affection. 

The first time they noticed something was when you were on the bus, sitting next to Viv. Her head leaning on your shoulder, after she had fallen asleep. Most of your teammates had seen the moment, but figured Viv had just nodded off, and you didn’t want to wake her.

But it wasn’t just that moment. It didn’t matter in what environment you were, Viv always found a way to be near you.

When walking towards the pitch for training, Viv would loop her arm through yours. You never shrugged her off, and your teammates noticed there how naturally you let it happen.

During drills at training, she would nudge your shoulder ever so often while waiting for the next drill. Sometimes it was to point something out, other times it was to joke around.

Even during games. When you and Viv would both sit on the bench, she made sure to sit next to you. When someone would try to squeeze in, she would subtly shift so she could keep her spot next to you.

When you were out with some of the girls, they noticed that Viv would place her hand on your arm or leg casually, like it was the most normal thing ever. It might be a normal thing for most people, but for you it wasn’t.

The girls had never seen you let anyone get so close to you, and they kept being amazed. They couldn’t wrap their head around the fact that you let Viv be so clingy, while usually you didn’t even like when people touched you in general. Were you just letting it happen because you didn’t want to make Viv feel bad? Or were you enjoying it as much as she was?

It was the first movie night since Viv joined, that someone decided to voice their thoughts. The movie started and to no one's surprise, Viv sat down next to you. It didn’t take long for her to get comfortable and cuddle into your side, her legs resting on yours. 

About halfway through the movie, you got a call. “Sorry, I have to take this.” You whispered into Viv’s ear. Gently pulling your body away from underneath hers. Some of your teammates shot you questioning looks. “It’s okay, just keep playing the movie. I’ll be right back.”

You moved into the hallway of Jill’s apartment, closing the door behind you to block the noise that was coming from the living room before you picked up the phone.

Viv looked after you, sad to have lost the comfort that you were giving her. Alanna noticed the longing looks she was sending to the door. “Viv, do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?" The question came out rougher than intended, but Alanna went with it anyway.

Her head turned to Alanna and the rest of the girls. “Yeah, why wouldn’t she?” Viv asked with her brow slightly furrowed. Surely if you didn’t like her doing so, you would have told her by now.

The movie was paused and all attention was on the conversation now. “Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen her be touchy with anyone. In fact I’ve seen her push people off or tell them off when they’re touching her for too long.” 

Some of the girls chuckled, and Lauren added, “It’s commonly known that she doesn’t like it when people touch her.” A statement that came with a few nods from the rest of the girls.

Before you could say anything, Jill jumped in. “Yeah, well you guys don’t know y/n outside of City. I grew up with those two, they’ve always been like this.” 

Kerstin build up Jill’s point more. “Literally. When I joined them at the national team, I for real thought they were dating.”

Viv’s cheeks turn red at Kerstin’s words, peaking the interest of the team even further than the conversation about if you liked the clinginess or not.

You returned to the living room and all eyes were on you. It felt a little uneasy, so you quickly sat down next to Viv again. But instead of her leaning into your side like she usually did, she kept sitting up straight. It looked like she was actively making sure that she wasn’t touching you.

The whole situation felt awkward. The movie paused, and all eyes on you. Well, all eyes except Viv’s, who seemed to be ignoring you at all costs. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Jill exchanged a quick look with Alanna before speaking up, deciding it was best if she took the lead in answering. “We were just talking about how close you and Viv are. Nothing bad!” 

Your eyes narrowed at the addition of the ‘nothing bad’. No one ever added that when that was the case. 

"Right," Lauren added, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably. "We were just saying it’s surprising—since you’re not usually, you know, touchy with anyone."

You look between them, a frown forming on your face. “Okay, and?” You didn’t like when people analysed you in the first place, but why did they have to bring Viv into it?

“Well,” Alanna spoke up after the rest of the team seemed to hesitate. “we were wondering if you’re actually okay with it. You don’t really let people touch you ever. But Jill said you two have been this way for ages, and that’s kind of where the conversation ended.”

Viv’s posture and refusal to meet your eye, suddenly made sense. They had said something to make her doubt herself, or even worse make her doubt you and your actions. 

“Seriously?” You snap at them, feeling the anger boil inside your chest. “Don’t you have something better to do than analyse who I let into my personal space?”

The team looked taken back, not expecting your anger. You realised it had come out sharper than intended, so after taking a deep breath, you softened your tone. “Look, I know I’m not the most affectionate person, but it’s Viv. I don’t mind Viv being clingy. And if you think for a second that I would let anyone do anything that I didn’t want, you don’t know me at all.”

The team knew very well that you knew you would stand your ground and not let anyone walk over you, so they should’ve realised that you would’ve also not let Viv do something you didn’t like. 

Finally Viv looked up at you, her fingers still fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. “You really don’t mind?”

You shake your head and reach for her hand. “No, not at all. I like it even.” With a gentle tug at her hand, you pull her back into your side. 

The rest of the girls kept watching you, as you pulled Viv closer and wrapped your arm around her. “Can we please move on and continue watching this movie?” 

Viv lightly chuckled at the girls mumbling their sorry’s as they turned back to the TV. You squeeze her a little tighter. “Don’t let them get to your head. If you ever question something, please just come to me.” She nodded her head, and got comfortable again. 

-----

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[summer-princess]

Inappropriate Response: Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Leila confronts you after a bad tackle. Things escalate. 🔞Smut. Mdni. 🔞 Pairing: Leila Ouahabi x Reader Warnings: Everything is consensual but not explicitly negotiated beforehand. Fingering, degradation, wall sex Disclaimer: Obviously fiction. Notes: I've had this partially written for so long! I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave requests! Words: 2674

You knew you had fucked up as soon as you collided with your opponent. 

Her pained shout as she fell to the ground under your mistimed challenge made your stomach roil as you hopped back up to your feet, barely noticing the referee as she pulled out the yellow card and held it up in your direction.

Even as your teammates surrounded her, beginning to argue on your behalf, you didn’t bother. Instead, you peered around the backs of City’s medical team, trying to catch a glimpse of the player you’d taken out. 

Through her grimace of pain as the medical staff helped her to her feet and off the pitch, Leila Ouahabi still managed to send an impressive glare your way.

She had to be substituted off, and the knot of guilt in your stomach only tied itself tighter.

You could see her glaring at you from the City bench, clearly still stewing over the bad tackle as she sat with her ankle covered in ice, but it faded from your mind as the match continued on. When it was over, you retreated back into the locker room with your teammates, not expecting the Spaniard to make anything more of it.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

As you knew for a fact that you were the last one in the lockers, the sound of the door made you jump, water bottle clattering down to the floor as you whipped your head around, catching sight of black hair as the Spaniard fixed you with a steely glare.

You didn’t know Leila well, having only played against her a few times, but you could tell that she was still angry as she stalked toward you, ankle clearly still tender. You wanted to melt into the floor as she got closer, wishing that you could disappear before you had to hear exactly what the Spaniard thought of you.

There was no such luck for you as Leila stalked towards you, her approach pushing you further and further back.

“What the fuck was that tackle?”

You shrugged, back pressing against the white wall as she cornered you. You wanted to apologize, again, but your words were lodged in your throat as her glare froze you in place. The sensation of the back against the wall, the beautiful woman with ire in her eyes growing closer and closer, was going straight between your thighs.

You knew that your reaction was entirely inappropriate. 

Her response was entirely disproportionate, the rational side of your mind told you. It had been a mistake, and you had apologized for it. Repeatedly, in fact. You shouldn’t be standing here and listening to her shout at you, back against the wall. You should be yelling back, standing up for yourself.

But you weren’t.

Instead, your eyes were locked on the defender’s pretty face as she cornered you, and her fury had you shivering for a very different reason.

Your cheeks were red and heated with a scarlet blush, and your face wasn’t the only part of your body that felt hot. 

“Well?!”

You didn’t know what to say as she shouted at you once again, the fierce bite of her words sending a fresh shiver through you. Your silence was clearly beginning to grate on her nerves as she clenched her jaw, unwilling to leave you alone until you’d explained yourself to her satisfaction.

“I… Um…”

Unconsciously, you pressed your thighs together, your pussy beginning to tingle with arousal. You worried your tongue between your teeth, only getting wetter as the Spaniard glared at you, so close. But she couldn’t know, could she?  

There was no way that Leila could figure out why you were a stuttering mess, know way that she could know just how wet you were getting. 

How, if she did figure it out, you would do whatever she asked of you.

The defender was, however, remarkably observant when she wanted to be.

Still narrowed in a glare, Leila’s eyes drifted downwards from your nervous face to the spot where your thighs were pressed together. You were trying desperately not to clench down around nothing, praying that your entirely inappropriate reaction to being backed into a corner by a beautiful woman would go unnoticed by the woman herself, that you could get her to accept your apology and flee home with your tail tucked in to take care of your need on your own.

Leila’s gaze, however, should have warned you that things wouldn’t exactly work out that way.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, realization flooding her face as you flushed scarlet, unable to stop a little whimper from escaping, cursing every decision you had ever made that had led you to this situation.

“You… You’re… Fuck. This is making you wet, isn’t it?”

You shook your head frantically, trying to deny it. Even as you did, another wave of arousal flooded through you, her looming presence going straight between your legs. The air between the two of you felt charged with electricity as she invaded your space, able to sense the way your breath hitched at her proximity.

“F-Fuck you, that’s-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Her growl drew another noise from you, much louder than the first. Your breath froze in your lungs as Leila slid one of her knees between your legs, her lower thigh making the barest contact with the place where her words had gone. 

Even through your kit, the touch of the defender’s skin against your pussy made you whine. You just managed to stop yourself from grinding down against the other woman’s muscular leg, but the sound did nothing to disprove Leila’s conclusion.

You couldn’t meet her eyes.

There was no way this could be happening. There was no way you were trapped in a corner by a beautiful woman who was very angry at you, and there was no way she had just slid her leg between yours to confirm that the situation was making you wet. 

“Look. At. Me.”

Even though it was torture, the blush on your cheeks setting your face ablaze to the point where you were fairly certain you were seconds away from spontaneous combustion, the bite behind her heavily accented English couldn’t be ignored.

Shaking, biting your lip to hold back the disappointed whimper when she removed her leg from between yours, you raised your chin and forced yourself to meet her eyes.

Her eyebrows were raised just slightly as her grip loosened, silently giving you the opportunity to say that you didn’t want this, to push her away and never speak of this moment again.

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a moment, but the press of Leila’s body against your own was just too tempting for denial to be anything but an unthinkable possibility.

One look into your face made the decision for Leila- behind the humiliation, your eyes were clouded with an obvious lust, the same expression she knew was dancing behind her own heavy gaze. 

Slipping her hand beneath your shorts, Leila’s hand went straight to your wetness.

You were soaked, and it didn’t take the Spaniard long to more than confirm her original suspicion. The second her long fingers brushed against the crotch of your panties, they were met with damp fabric, plentiful evidence of her claim. You whimpered, rocking your hips forward into her touch, and the defender let out a harsh laugh.

“You fucking slut.” 

Her hands found the waistband of your shorts and unceremoniously yanked them down your thighs, pulling your panties along with them. 

“Wanna make it up to me, hm?”

You nodded desperately, not trusting your words to properly convey how much you needed to make it up to her in this way, hoping that the motion of your head would get the message across.

Leila swore in Spanish at the feeling as, unencumbered by your shorts and panties, her fingers once again met the bare flesh of your cunt. She wasted no time before beginning her ministrations, two fingers pressed together gathering the wetness from your entrance and dragging it back up to your clit. The defender began stroking your sensitive little nub, relishing the way you were unable to hold back a strangled moan. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the combination of the match and her fingers making you shudder and buckle a little, saved from collapsing to the floor only by her presence.

“How pathetic can you get?” 

She was supporting a good portion of your weight now, ankle making a miraculous recovery as two fingers rubbed against your cunt, mercilessly stroking your clit.

Pathetic was definitely one of the many words that could be used to describe you right now, pressed up against the wall by a woman who probably hated you, soaking her fingers with your arousal.

But the best part?

The best part, and the worst part at the same time, was that you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was how much you needed her, needed her to keep you pinned against the wall with her larger body, needed her to keep touching you like that, needed the filthy, degrading words being growled in your ear.

“I could tell you to get on your knees and eat me out right here and you’d do it, no?”

You nodded desperately, trying to rock against her fingers. She pulled them back, swallowing your whine with a fierce and bruising kiss. 

Leila’s kiss was like fire, her lips crashing against your own with a heat that could almost rival the one between her legs, where her fingers continued to work you. Her mouth dominated, your own offering little resistance as you moaned, again, into her tongue as it explored. She kissed you like she was dying, and your lips were the only cure, until she was suddenly pulling back, leaving you desperate for more.

Kiss broken, Leila’s other hand flashed out, wrapping around your neck as she held you against the wall. Your gasp of surprise was short and strangled, cut off in the face of the momentary restriction to your airflow. She didn’t keep her hand wrapped around your neck for longer than a second or two, just long enough to pin you in place as the fingers that had just been rubbing your sensitive clit and outer folds suddenly slipped inside your cunt. You were tight, but so wet that her two fingers slid easily inside, the Spaniard giving you only milliseconds to adjust before she was moving, fucking you in earnest, still keeping you pressed against the wall and at her mercy.

Even though her fingers were thin, the sudden intrusion still made you gasp aloud, instinctively trying to spread your legs further and give her better access. She swore again, a Spanish curse you couldn’t understand, welcoming the better angle as she buried herself in you up to the third knuckle, lithe digits swallowed by your desperate cunt.

She found her rhythm quickly, curling her fingers every few thrusts so she could massage the sensitive tissue inside of you. 

You were fairly certain you had forgotten how to breathe properly, strangled gasps all you could manage as the Spaniard fucked you with her fingers. The pleasure was constant, pounding, overwhelming as her thumb rubbed messy circles across your clit, acute and addicting. Your mouth fell open, eyes heavy-lidded as you let yourself be fucked, owned by the gorgeous defender.

“You little slut,” she hissed, yanking you back to reality with her words as her wrist continued to guide her thrusts, power coming from her forearm as she fucked your willing hole. “You little fucking slut.” 

“Your slut,” you moaned in agreement, throwing your head back as her fingers continued to plunder your pussy, making it clear who controlled the situation.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wanna be my little slut?”

You nodded, leaning forward desperately and puckering your lips, needing to feel her mouth against your own.

She met you halfway, pressing another furious kiss to your parted lips. You gasped into the kiss, clasping onto it like a breath of oxygen, even as it stole the air from your lungs. Her lips against yours only made her fingers plundering your cunt more intense. 

You could feel the pressure beginning to build against your pelvis, the sensations becoming more and more intense as Leila slipped a third finger inside, the brief ache of the stretch quickly swallowed by the pleasure. Removing her lips from your mouth, the defender hissed into your ear, hot breath posing a question which made you shiver in anticipation and nerves.

“You deserve to come?”

You didn’t know which answer she wanted, but the idea of being denied, of her talented fingers leaving you a quivering mess and not seeing the act through to completion made you want to sob. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Leila really expected an answer as she curled her fingers again, palm pressing firmly against your nub. Every movement of her fingers set your nerves on fire, sensitive little clit fully erect from her touch. You could feel your orgasm approaching much more rapidly now, barrelling towards you like a runaway freighter, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold back.

“Leila-”

The strangled moan of her name was enough to alert Leila to your predicament and, as much as the rapidly forming bruise on her ankle made her want to walk away and leave you panting, unsatisfied with your arousal coating your thighs, there was no real choice.

Not when you had taken her so well, not when you looked so pretty with her fingers buried inside your cunt, showing her just how sorry you were. 

She wanted to feel you come around her fingers, and she wanted it now.

“Come for me. Make it up to me, slut, and come for me like the needy thing that you are.”

Permission granted, you wasted no time before crashing over the edge with a sharp cry, a nonsensical noise barely recognizable as the other woman’s name.

Your legs gave out beneath you as you came but, before you could fall to the floor, her free arm was wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as your orgasm overwhelmed you, cunt clamping around her long fingers and holding them in place. Leila couldn’t help but release a little sound of her own at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around her fingers, imagination conjuring images of what it would be like to have you all to herself for much longer, spread out and helpless in her bed.

“R-Really am sorry,” you whispered, clinging to her shoulders as the aftershocks began to fade. 

“Shh, pretty girl,” she cooed, banishing her fantasies for a moment in order to see to you, tone markedly different from the one she had used when she first cornered you against the wall, what seemed like an eternity ago.

“It’s okay. Don’t you worry about it. It’s all fine, I promise. It barely even hurts anymore.”

You sighed in relief, embracing the feeling of her arms around you as she worked her fingers free, leaving you empty as she pulled your shorts and damp panties back into place. 

“Besides,” said Leila, grinning as she glanced at her glistening fingers. “I think you more than made up for it.”

Your post-orgasm haze wearing off, the furious blush returned to your cheeks. She chuckled, shaking her head. 

“And now that you have… I don’t suppose you’d let me buy you a drink?”

It was your turn to burst out laughing, first at the audacity of the question and then at the slightly wounded look that appeared on the defender’s face at your reaction.

Crouching down to pick up a stray hair elastic and sliding it around your wrist, you met her eyes and gave her a bright grin and a nod.

“You know,” you said. “This may be the strangest way anyone’s ever asked me out.”

[chaotic-toasters]

Boomerang

Alanna Kennedy x Teen! R

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

You don't know why you didn't say anything. You don't know why you didn't tell your mum that you were running out of your ADHD meds, but now you didn't have any more and you'd have to go to training without them.

"Y/N?" She called from the kitchen, voice echoing around the house. "We've gotta go, kiddo."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," you grumbled. "Hold your horses, mother."

The defender flicked your ear teasingly. "Grumpy today, are we?"

You couldn't help but smile at the goofy grin on her face. "Only when you start yellin' for me even though we're not gonna be late."

The two of you slipped into the car, listening to the radio in an unusual silence.

"You alright there, baby?" your mum asked, glancing over at you where your hands were shaking in your hoodie pocket. "You're quiet today."

"Yeah, I'm good," you dismissed her concerns, twiddling your thumbs under the cover of your comfortable top. "When do you leave for the next Matildas camp?"

The question caught her off guard, making her forget about her previous statement. "In two weeks. You're on the roster, silly."

"Oh," you giggled sheepishly. "I forgot."

The rest of the drive was uneventful, though your mum did take offense to you jumping out of the car before she finished parking once you arrived at training. "Oi! Where you goin'?!"

"To find Hempo!" You yelled back, sprinting into the building to find your best mate at Man City. "She's fun!"

You could practically feel the offense radiating off your mum. "And I'm not?!"

"Eh."

"You cheeky little—"

"Hiii, Hempo!" You jumped on the older girl's back in excitement as she made her way to the changing room, a shit-eating grin on your face as she grunted from the sudden weight.

"Hiii, Y/N," the forward mocked, pushing the door open and carrying you into the room where some of the girls were already gathered. "How are you?"

"I'm good!" You chirped, jumping off of Lauren's back and somersaulting on the floor.

Your teammates paid you no mind, simply thinking you had a bit of extra energy. But as the day went on, you became more hyper and more restless.

"RAHHH!" you screeched, sprinting at Laia. "TIM TAMS!"

A hand snatched the back of your jersey, causing you to jerk back.

"Y/N," Steph scolded. "Calm down."

You grunted, hiding your ever-twitching fingers behind your back. "You and Mum are so boring."

"Her fingers are wiggling." Leila deadpanned.

You spun around, annoyed. "Shut up, Leila!"

Steph tutted disapprovingly. "I think someone didn't take their meds this morning."

Luckily, the whistle blew as the trainers called for a scrimmage, saving you from any further investigation.

Steph opened her mouth to say more, but you ran off to your position and clapped for the game to start. The skipper just shook her head, amused. She'd bring it up to your mum later.

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

It hadn't even been ten minutes. To Steph's defense, you had been much calmer before the scrimmage, but you and Hempo were on opposite teams and your will to beat her only fueled your uncontainable energy.

"WAAAAAHAAAHA!" you yelled, sprinting down the field. "I'M A GONNA WIN!"

"Woahhh, slow down, Waluigi," Chloe reached out to grab you, but you just dodged her hold and continued your charge towards the ball. "Alex! Grab the kid!"

The Brit tried in vain to snatch you by the collar, but you only shook free and shrieked, "SHE'S A RUNNER SHE'S A TRACKSTAAAAR!"

Lauren screamed as you chased after her, leaving the ball abandoned in a futile attempt to shake you off. "WHERE'S ALANNA?! WHERE'S ALANNA?!"

"Seeing the physio," Demi said. "For her ankle."

Lauren screamed again, running like her life depended on it (it did). "GO GET HER! GO GET HER!"

"ARARARARARARARARARUFF!" you barked, your ADHD taking total control of your limbs and vocal cords. "AIAIAIAIAIAIAIAAIAIAIAI!"

Lauren jumped onto Sandy's back, scrambling away from you in a panic. "HELP ME YOU SHITS!"

"Hey, hey, hey," your mum rushed towards you before you could react, arms wrapping around you and holding you in place. "What's the matter, baby? What's going on?"

Your head whipped to the side. "Boomerang!"

She smiled at you worriedly, waddling off to the sidelines with you trapped firmly in her hold. "Yeah, kiddo. You're exactly like a boomerang, flying all over the place."

Steph jogged over as you babbled nonsensically, eyes meeting your mum's. "She didn't take her meds this morning. She was acting like this earlier, and she hasn't had any sugar."

"Aww, kiddo," your mum ran her fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Why didn't take your meds? You know they're important."

Something in your brain briefly turned off the hyperactivity long enough for you to hear the slight disappointment in her voice. "I- I ran out."

"You've gotta tell me before that happens, sweetheart," she murmured, rubbing your temples. "You scared the hell out of Hempo today."

You buried your face into your shoulder, suddenly tired from your rampage. "'m sorry, mum."

"It's okay, kiddo," she assured, suddenly smirking. "It was hilarious."

[greynatomy]

dazed & confused

leila ouahabi x reader

it’s your bday @sleekswosobession !!

———

You’ve been dragged to the go out by your friends after a stressful day. Declining at first, they insisted, so you were now at the bar, drink in hand.

The bass was thumping in the dimly lit club, tension radiating off of everyone. Watching everyone let loose, your eyes lock on a mysterious figure from across the room.

You came in swinging like Apollo I'll be feeling it tomorrow No, I ain't seeing straight, hyperventilate Knees begin to wobble

Igniting a spark of curiosity and attraction, your feet began to move, pushing you through the crowd of people, with determination in each step.

You cut my brakes and hit the throttle I couldn't stop it if I wanted Dizzy silhouette, makes me break a sweat I'm in trouble

“Mind if I join you?” you shouted, over the music, giving her a charming smile.

She glanced at you, lips quirking up in a grin. “Depends on whether you can keep up.”

It was a challenge that you willingly accepted. The club was dark, bar from the little spotlights all over. You matched her movements, bodies syncing as one in a dance of seduction and intrigue. Tension growing with each beat.

“So, what’s your name?” You lean in closer, lips brushing against her ear.

“Leila.”

“Leila, hmm.” You smirk, leaning back, face still close together. “I like that.” Leila shakes her head, flustered, but trying not to make it obvious. “So, what brings you here?”

“Maybe I’m just here to look for a dance partner.” She shrugs, a look of mischief on her face.

“Well, you certainly found one.”

Your bodies moved in perfect symphony, Leila could feel your breath against her neck as you moved to the beat. As you lean in closer, Leila pushes your face out of her neck and puts you face to face.

“It was nice dancing with you, but I gotta go.”

With that, she bids her goodbye, leaving no trace of her. Days turned into weeks and Leila was someone who you couldn’t get your mind off of.

People would call you pathetic, but you’ve been back to that same club every few days hoping to catch a glimpse of her again.

Oh, I've been dazed and confused From the day I met you Yeah, I lost my head And I'd do it again

Nursing on a drink, the ice began to melt as you swirl the glass around. Sighing, you look up, eyes scanning the crowd for a second before they’re back staring down at the glass.

“Who’re you looking for?”

Your head shoots up, eyes widening at the sight of her.

Either I've seen the light Or I'm losing my mind There's something 'bout you That's got me dazed and confused

“You look like a lost little puppy.” Leila jutted her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Leila.” You manage to get out.

“That’s me.”

I bet you know just what you're doing You're not the type that's used to losing First, you build me up, then with just a touch Leave me here in ruins

Her eyes meet yours and you swear that time stopped.

Something 'bout your eyes I can't even walk in a straight line Under the influence

You felt your knees buckle, barely able to keep yourself upright. The world around you is spinning while Leila was the center of it all.

She grabs your arm, dragging you to the dance floor. You forget about everything else, focused solely on her. The whole night felt like a blur.

You’ve picked up where you left off, the heat between the two of you was undeniable. You’ve, once again, surrendered yourself to her, following the way her body moves against yours.

I don't know if this is real life, real life What happens if I open my eyes, my eyes? Will I ever get my head right, head right? I don't know if this is real life, real life

You wonder if all of this was just a dream, that once you open your eyes, everything disappears. But it wasn’t a dream. You have this beautiful girl in front of you, dancing with you. You are in euphoria.

“Hey.”

A whisper breaks you out of your thoughts. Leila pulls you in by the neck, noses touching.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

Goosebumps littered your body, words getting stuck in your throat. She grabs your hand, leading you out of the building.

It was a question that never needed answering.

[leahsgirl]

celebration night | alex greenwood x reader

based off this request except i kind of went off script a little, only a short 1.3k for because its currently 4am right now - hope you enjoy!

mentions of anxiety (only briefly), suggestive language, smut sort of??

—

it was times like these, where you were sat in the back of a car, dolled up to the nines, when you wondered how you ended up with your girlfriend.

the two of you was en route to another awards ceremony that would be celebrating her (and her teammates) contribution to the footballing world.

you was her plus one of course, having dragged you to a couple beforehand over the course of your relationship. you weren't exactly the biggest fan of these events considering you was a very introverted person with an almost constant pit of anxiety in your stomach, but you knew how much they meant to Alex and what kind of girlfriend would you be if you weren't there supporting her?

when you first met her, at a club match you went watching for your childhood friend chloe, you already had a massive crush her. what you didn't expect was for the blonde to offer getting drinks sometime when kelly introduced you and the rest was history really.

so yeah, back to the present where you, a bartender, was keeping a strong grip on your football sensation girlfriend's hand, trying your best to keep your nerves under control. "i'll say it once i'll say it again; how do you do this all the time? how do the nerves not knock you sick?"

the older girl chuckled, "nerves turns into adrenaline - and adrenaline helps me play better." stating it simply and turning her head to press a light kiss on your temple. "you'll be fine baby; you always have me remember?" alex was aware of how your thoughts could spiral to the point of no return, how you would psychoanalyse certain situations and how you anxious you could get when in big groups like tonight will be. she knew exactly how to calm you down and for that you was thankful.

the car now pulling up outside the steps that lead to the building, a chauffeur opening the door for the blonde and you, alex got out and once again held her hand out for you to take. there was a few paparazzi/photographers outside behind the rope fences calling out your girlfriends name. "alex! alex!" "alex! whose the girl with you?!" "over here alex." after a few shots you was ushered inside where the place was already buzzing with people.

they'd gone for all white and gold decorations you gathered, having noticed the balloon arch mixed with the two colours, as well as white decorative roses scattered around in bunches and a champagne tower slap bang in the centre. you never understood the point of them if you was honest, the glasses are far too dainty to remove from the pyramid and just one accidentally nudge to the poor thing and it would come crashing down.

"y/n, alex, hiya." turning around to the familiar voice you see lucy, one of the blue-eyed girls national teammates. you liked lucy, she was one of the girls you clicked with the most when visiting alex at her european and world cup tournaments. "oh my god i feel like i haven't seen you in ages" you say as you went in for a side hug. "its only been two months y/n, has alex over here been boring you that much?" the brunette smirked while your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully.

"she's been keeping me busy actually, last week she forced me to learn how to rollerstake for no reason." its true, the thirty-year-old was always convincing you to do the stupidest, most cheesy stuff but you don't mind. In fact, it's probably one of your favourite things about her seeing this goofier side compared to the more serious and reserved ones the fans got.

"don't act like you don't secretly love it." she said crossing her arms over her chest while you just giggled in response and pecked her lips. "i do sweetheart don't worry."

after some mindless chatter with the barcelona player, staff came out to escort people to their seats. the set-up was tables of six and you was happy to find out accompanying you on your table was mary, lucy, ella and her boyfriend joe.

complimentary alcoholic beverages were being given throughout the night which you indulged in as you watched the awards being presented one by one.

alex was up for some sort of team award if you remembered correctly, not exactly understanding the drabble of words she was saying when she first told you the news, you think its eleven people getting the same award or something if you took anything from the conversation. what you did know is that she had to go up against international players which makes the award even more special if she is to win.

the night dragged on as you listened to speech after speech after speech. eventually, the time had come for 'FIFPRO Women's World 11' "that's it." you thought to yourself as the man read the title of the honour, now recalling alex telling you about fifa's women starting eleven.

"now introducing your women's starting eleven team!" the massive sliding doors opened up, revealing the ladies one by one. An overwhelming sense of pride engulfed you as you watched your partner stand on stage in her very sexy suit (if you do say so yourself) with trophy in hand. with a quick few lines from each girl, they made their way back to their seats. standing up, you beamed at alex and placed your hands on her cheeks "i'm so so proud of you." she leans in and kisses your lips, smudging your red lipstick slightly.

"you in the mood for celebrating later?" parting away from your lips, she whispered in your ear. you could see her eyes filled with lust which meant only one thing. offering to get out of there, alex and you say your goodbyes to your friends/her teammates. To be honest the ceremony was dying down anyways so it was only a matter of time before you actually did leave.

as soon as your front door closed hands grabbed your waist and pressed you onto the wall. lips attached to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin as you gave in to the quiet noises of pleasure before they found your mouth once again.

the kisses were sloppy and eager as the defender swiped her tongue across your bottom lip gaining entrance into your mouth, tongues in a fight for dominance.

she stopped. dragging you by the hand into your bedroom and pushing you onto the end of the bed. this time, she snaked her hand under your top, reaching up to massage your breast. "you're beautiful you know that?" alex watched in amusement as you tried to stay quiet while she pressed her knee up against your centre. "tell me what you want princess."

literally just the words she was saying was enough to send you over the edge if you let it. "i want- i want you lower." the breathlessness in your voice made the blonde smirk, complying with your wishes. she made her way down to your pants menacingly slow, undoing the button and sliding the silk material off until they were disregarded somewhere in the room. "can i just say, I'm practically naked and you're out here still in your suit." as much as you loved the suit, you'd much rather be seeing her toned abs right now.

taking the hint, she quickly thew the outfit off, now hovering over you in just her black lingerie. "better?" she asks and you nod, shamelessly raking your eyes down her whole body.

the man city player busied herself with tracing patterns up your thighs, getting dangerously close to your centre without actually touching it. "alex please."

toying with the elastic on your thong she looked up at you. "please what? i want to hear you say it." the lust was practically oozing out of her mouth right now. slotting her hand under the mesh material of your underwear she repeated herself, "say it y/n."

your brain was going into overdrive from the teasing she had given you; your chest heaving. "alex..please fuck me already."

she caught your lips in a passionate kiss. "good girl."

[sunshine-theseus]

Hermanita’s Broken Nose| Laia Aleixandri x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: You’re technically ‘off limits’ to any of your sister’s friends, but that doesn’t stop Laia. It also doesn’t stop the ball coming for your nose Warnings: Angst, no proofreading what so ever because i'm with family sorryy Requested by - @deynacastellonaswife

“María will kill us if she finds out Lai.” I try to catch my breath, hands resting against Laia’s chest.

“Mapi lives an ocean away.” A ghost of a kiss is pressed to my lips in reassurance.

“No, she lives 1825 kilometres away. Not even that will stop her wrath if she finds out one of her friends is dating her hermanita.” The dim light of the Manchester City utilities closet was beginning to make my eyes strain as I looked at my secret girlfriend.

“You know the exact distance between Manchester and Barcelona?” a teasing grin spreads across her face as she pushes open the door, looking around to make sure no one will see us.

“Sí. You don’t? Usually, I use it when I’m in need of comfort, my sister isn’t really that far if I need her. But your teasing is taking that away.” A joking jab in her side sends Laia running and screaming back to the pitch.

No one is there to meet us, the other girls still having lunch and relaxing, so we take some time to play around with the ball. Laia begs to practice penalties, so I line up with my goalie gloves tightly on my hands, waiting for her to kick the ball. I dive back and forth as she goes to score, managing to catch or stop the ball often enough for her to want to keep going.

I begin to get tired. My hand rarely meets the ball and I stop putting effort into my dives but she doesn’t notice.

“Lai… I gotta stop bebé. It’s too much.” I’m already sitting on the ground as Laia takes a final kick, not being able to stop in time after my plea for a break.

It’s a beautiful ball. It spins and floats down perfectly, but it doesn’t hit the net. Instead, it comes barrelling down toward me, and slams aggressively into my nose. The pain radiates across my face, and I feel the warm blood start to trickle out of my nose as I groan in pain. I lean forward, trying to find a safe place above my nostrils for me to pinch, and Laia comes rushing toward me.

“Mierda! Lo siento coriño. Necesitas ayuda y poco hielo.” (Fuck! I’m so sorry sweetheart. You need help and some ice) I reach out for her but she’s already sprinting toward the medical room before I can say anything.

~~~~~

“Hermanita! How on earth did you break your nose?” María and Ingrid sit in the Barcelona sun as we facetime, the older of the two questioning me with an accusatory tone.

“Laia. We were practicing penalties, and I sat down for a break, but it was too late… she kicked a beautiful penalty, but I was not in a good spot. Came right for my face.” To finish my statement, I point to the cast over my nose.

My sister tries, yet fails, to conceal her laughter while Ingrid pouts, eyes full of concern.

“Din stakkars kjære! Are you healing okay?” (you poor dear!) my sister’s girlfriend was a ball of sunshine and kindness, you couldn’t not love her, so in return I’d begun to learn some Norwegian so we could both speak each other’s languages. María tried to join me, but decided that 2 languages was enough for her, leaving her confused whenever Ingrid and I decided to test my new skill.

“I am, Laia felt really bad so she’s taking care of me.” It’s a simple lie to explain the random items that are very clearly not mine that are littered around the apartment behind me.

Laia had moved into my apartment mere months ago, not long after we started dating. Her clothes were already filling up my cupboard and small trinkets dawned my kitchen counter tops and tables.

“Good. Where is she? No one hurts my baby sister and gets away with it.” Despite her previous laughing, María’s lips pull tight and she becomes serious, looking around my screen as if she would be able to spot the Spaniard.

“Out getting groceries. She’ll be back soon, you can rip into her then. Shouldn’t you be worrying about your own injury by the way?” María had torn the meniscus in her right knee during training and was out for the rest of the season. A significantly worse injury than a simple broken nose.

“I have Ingrid for that!” She smiles goofily at the Norwegian beside her as Bagheera jumps onto her lap, sniffing his way toward the camera my sister is holding up.

The black cat begins to meow and paw at the screen, and I smile, but quickly let out a squeal of pain and nearly grab my nose. Perhaps a little dramatic, I grant myself a pass.

“Fuck you and your cute ass cat María! God that hurt.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

-

We talk for quite some time, that I forget about the impending arrival of the girl who most certainly wasn’t supposed to be my girlfriend.

“We should probably go soon-” right as Ingrid makes the comment, Laia walks through the door.

“Hola bebé! How are you feeling?” after placing the bags on the kitchen bench she makes her way over. She leans down and kisses me softly but I can’t find it in me to kiss her back, too shocked.

“QUE CARAJO?” (WHAT THE FUCK?) Laia freezes beside me at the sound of my sister’s voice booming around the apartment.

“Now might be a good time for us to go.” Ingrid, ever the angel, reaches across her girlfriend and hangs up the call.

Laia and I give each other a look before I stand up. I knock my phone off the couch beside me and begin pacing the length of the apartment. Laia watches with wide eyes, unsure of what to do as I pull at my hair and try not to run my hands over my face. Avoiding the broken bone seems to be hard in times of worry.

Eventually she stands in front of me and grabs me by the shoulders, physically shaking me to snap me out of my panic.

“It’ll be okay. It’s not like she’ll fly over just to tell us off.” In a moment of foolishness, I nod in agreement and fall into Laia’s arms. She presses kisses to my shoulder as I rest my chin on her own shoulder.

-

Like I said, a moment of foolishness. Not 2 days later, María was knocking on my door.

“Sé que estás ahí! Open up!” (I know you’re in there!) I have no choice but to open the one thing separating Laia and I from the rage of my sister.

Laia stands beside me, hand squeezing my own. Both of us were terrified of what the older girl would have to say but knew we had to face the music. I can hear Mrs Goldfinch, the single mum next door, telling, or yelling, at María to stop. It’s hard not to laugh at the shocked and rather embarrassed face of my sister as the door swings open.

“Laia Aleixandri when I get my fucking hands on you!” she comes storming toward us so fast that I barely have time to shove my girlfriend behind me. Her injury doesn’t slow her down at all.

“Mapi! Mapi! We can talk about this!” Laia tries to reason with her but there is a flame in María’s eyes that show no mercy.

“No, I told you all, no messing around with my hermana. I told you there would be consequences if you did, so here we are.”

“María! I am a grown woman, I can decide who I date myself. When I was 15? I would’ve understood, but I’m 24 now. I love you but who I date is up to me. And Laia is it for me.” The fury in my sister’s eyes dissipates quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it so much, but this is for me to decide.” María surges forward and hugs me, barely missing my nose.

Laia stands awkwardly behind me, smiling at the interaction. I reach over to her to pull her into the hug.

“I love you both so much.” Laia leaves a kiss on my head and María squeezes me tighter.

-

María stays for a week before heading back to Barcelona for a check up on her knee. Laia and I spend the day after she leaves, curled up in bed, watch movies. My nose is okay enough to not hurt all the time, almost completely healed, so I rest my head on her chest, kissing wherever I can reach.

Similarly, she presses kisses to me head and draws patterns on my back. Both of us are close to falling asleep when she finally speaks up.

“I’m honestly glad that we got that out of the way. I love you but Mapi terrifies me.” A grin spears across my face.

“You looove me? I love you too bebé.” I can feel the joking roll of her eyes before I look up at her.

Without second thought, I press a deep kiss to her lips. We both turn out head to better accommodate the gesture.

“Fuck my nose!” the movement pushes the healing bone into Laia’s own nose and it begins throbbing in pain all over again.

“Lo siento coriño! Not again. I’ll get you some ice.” She ashamedly looks down as she walks to the kitchen.

There’s no one else I’d rather break my nose.

[meademalove]

Vivianne Miedema is Manchester City 🩵

[slytherinn-xo]

We Can't Keep Her - Kerstin Casparij

Kerstin Casparij X ENGWNT! Manchester City Player! Reader

Synopsis: In which Puppy Yoga, makes you consider getting your girlfriend a puppy

594 words

I was led with all of the girls in recovery, as we were doing some puppy yoga as a nice treat for us after this season, before we would all go off to the World Cup. 

And I just focussed on the yoga, trying not to look at Kerstin who I knew wanted a puppy, as she had all of them around her. Like she was their mother. It was too cute. 

She was just having fun with them, and as much as I'm a cat person I had to admit this was cute.

"This one's my favourite!" I heard Kerstin tell me, as she pointed to the puppy she held in her hand, as she knocked her head against my knee, while I stretched. 

I tried not to wobble, as I noticed the other puppies running around the room, one under my leg, and if I fell I could not harm them.

"Her name's nugget!" Kerstin told me so proudly as I just looked at her the same way she looked at that bloody puppy. 

Really could she just not look at me like that. I get I'm not as cute as those bleeding puppies, but I want her to look at me like that.

"I'm gonna take you home!" Kerstin told the puppy in her hands, as she looked at the baby on her chest, and I just shook my head at her actions. Really we could not get a dog right now.

"Love, we can't get a puppy." I told her as I sat behind her, finally chilling out after the yoga, her head leaning on my calfs, as I sat with my legs crossed in front of me.

"No don't jump over your brothers and sisters." Kerstin told the little guy in her arms and I just wanted to take them all home with me. And yeah a cat person willing to give up their home for a dog. But I'd be making my girl happy.

But I also know we can't just get a puppy before we both go off to Australia for two months for the Women's World Cup. It wouldn't be fair on the little guy or gal. Like really we just bring them home and we'd be off half way across the world.  

"No don't do that, no don't give her attention!" Kerstin told the puppy as I finally placed a hand out towards the little one, letting it lick my hand as it went up, almost standing on Kerstin's throat.

And I wanted to laugh and shout at her, why can't I get attention from the cute puppy.

And I watched as the puppy just jumped back at the sound of her voice, and probably the feeling of it under her little paws. But it was so cute to see her little expression as she heard Kerstin's voice.  

"Oh!" Kerstin just said as the puppy jumped off her shoulder and on top of one of it's siblings. 

It was such a cute sight to behold though.

"Night love." Kerstin told me, as I just shook my head biting my lip, running a hand through Kerstin's hair, which was just coming loose from the slick back style she had it in during our training session.

"God help me." I said to myself, as the camera which had been mostly focussed on Kerstin finally panned up to me. 

And the only other thing to come from this TikTok wasn't even a puppy, was 'I wish someone would look at Harker the way Casparij looks at those puppies!"

[ginger12202]

Current mood this week in the WSL

[pickledwoso]

this arsenal/city game is such an entertaining game of football as a neutral, what a great time i’m having after the utter buffoonery of last night

the absence of VAR is absolutely ridiculous tho 😵‍💫

[alessiarussolvr]

[talkingwoso]

‼️Ellie Roebuck has officially announced her departure from Manchester City.

💙❤️ Barça awaits for you Ellie!

[haalandaisesauce]

I just know that City and Arsenal fans are singing praises to Leicester .

[avaf00rd]

🍽️🍽️🍽️

[pajorko]

viviannemiedema First #UWCL night of the season is always a special one, but even more special when it’s your official debut for the club ⭐️