#so he literally sits on the daybeds with his sunglasses on

[willowser]

willow! first of all, i love all your writing and aus and just everything about your blog! everyone feels so realistic and it’s just amazing ajahakalal!!

second of all, i cannot get love island! kiri out of my head. like imagine he’s getting to know some other girl bc he’s just that nice but then someone else snatches you for recoupling and he realizes that there’s a very real possibility that the two of u won’t be together by the end and the thought just breaks his heart bc bc he really likes you!! you really, really wants to be with u and pursue a relationship outside the show but now he just feels like he blew it when he sees you with your new guy, splashing each other in the pool and laughing so brightly and you’re in your cute little bikini and hnghhhh just can’t stop thinking about this

OKAY OKAY bummer island with kiri is such a rollercoaster, i think you guys have the HARDEST time in there 🥺🥺 but it makes it worth it, in the end 😌🩷✨️

like i'm imagining that every week, all the boys are just hyping him up, telling him that he shouldn't close himself off, he's here to meet people, that's the whole point of this game and stuff — which it is ! but 🥺 he does really like you 🥺 so he ends up....unintentionally being a bit of a douchebag LOL

bc he's telling you that you're the only one he sees !! 🥺 and he's smiling at you on the beanbags, saying, "i wish we were sharing a bed tonight," and he always tells you how nice you look, you're always laughing together, sometimes you get too touchy 😌 BUT THEN ANOTHER GIRL WALKS IN and he's like, "i feel like i would be doing myself a disservice if i didn't try to get to know her," which is so AKGBRUEJQLALA and it's like. by the third time this has happened, you're so done. so beyond done lmao. and he doesn't even REALIZE IT.

a recoupling is happening and it's girls' choice and kiri is — over the moon. because he's thinking that this is it !! that you're going to choose him because things have been going great with yall (💀) and you'll finally be able to move forward, he's really excited to put all his effort into you now and — no, he's really not worried that a new guy just came in and told you he only had eyes for you 🙂 why would he be worried ?? 🙂

and you get up there and — you don't choose him. and he can't believe it.

every time that you could've coupled up in the past, someone has come along to steal either of you before the deal could be sealed. and now the opportunity was right there and he really, really was looking forward to FINALLY being with you 🥺 and having to stand there and hear your speech and watch you choose someone else is like alfhdkakajbfs 🥺 has him so ???? ofc a girl he's been talking to saves him so it's not like he goes home or anything but the hurt is SO CLEAR on his face 🥺

and afterwards, he grabs you as soon as it's appropriate to ask you 🥺 what happened ?? 🥺

and you're kinda not even looking at him 🥺 staring down into your drink or elsewhere. "i don't know, kirishima, he came in here and only has eyes for me, so — i think i'd be doing myself a disservice by not getting to know him."

and he KNOWS that those words are a slap in the face, especially with how serious you look, and he kind of laughs because he's shocked and hurt and doesn't know what to say !! because it's all too real now that he genuinely may have fucked it up !!! 🥺🥺🥺

[3one3]

The Sequel - 856

Double Life

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“You know, you’re right. I don’t know how I get on when I don’t see you.”

“Hey, don’t think you’d get this every day, man.”

“I could get by on just this look on your face every day.”

“Well maybe you could have that. This is what I look like when I feel like I did something really good for you.”

“You did very well, angel.”

“Your face right now is pretty nice too. I look like this because you look at me like that.”

Juan smooched Christina’s forehead after her general expression went from placid and content to intense and serious. The thing binding both looks was the glow of her satisfaction, happiness, and love that shone through in her eyes and her cheeks, beyond her control. They were still on the daybed at the end of the pool, lying side by side and facing each other, but with less clothes than when they were just drinking iced coffee and chatting. Partway into catching up with one another physically, the rider was compelled to help make up for all the abstinence imposed on the footballer between their visits with one another. And she wanted to pay him back for his patience with interest too. For as long as he wanted or could stand, she was going to love him with her lips, tongue, hands, and even her teeth. Juan didn’t realize he was in for such a service, and kept trying to get her to let him provide some love for her too in the beginning, until he was lulled into submission. His girl only allowed him to rub her back and her arm, or play with her hair. She just wanted to do all of his favorite things, and give each one her full attention and enough time to make an impression. There was no speeding through the things she knew got him off or temporarily drove him crazy. His thighs got attention. His stomach got love. His chest got kisses. His dick got everything. His balls got in her mouth. And then she did all of that over again in a different order, just to make sure he got enough of each thing and never too much- never so much that the line was crossed. Christina kept him comfortably shy of the edge so that it wasn’t like torture for him, delicious as that can be. He said things, and made sounds that helped her know exactly where he liked her tongue best, and how fast or slow to shuttle her hand up and down, and when her teeth caused too much pain instead of just the right amount near his hip. Only when he lovingly pleaded to actually be inside her did the rider halt her mission. She got in his lap then and “fought” with him for control for a few minutes. Juan lost but they both won, really.

She was sweaty by the time she’d finished her work, and finished herself too. That’s why she was still naked while the Spaniard watched her come down and he was back in his underwear and t-shirt. Watching him watch her was actually better for her than the sex. He was so enamored. They were just passing that “look how much he/she loves me” thing back and forth. Juan loved how much she loved to give him pleasure, and Christina loved how much he loved taking in her glow. The bonus for her was how easy it actually was to get total control over him- how he was fine with and willing to be completely vulnerable with her, and transparent, and authentic. Even André sometimes tried to hide exactly how much he liked things she did for him, as his old teammate did even more frequently. They could hold out and resist giving up that power over themselves to her. It depended on mood. She felt accomplished whenever the loves of her life let her all the way in. It was special to her when they got into the sort of hyper-emotional place she found herself in sometimes- when sleeping together was more meaningful and significant, and the connection more powerful than during or after run of the mill sex.

“Love you,” she whispered under his chin while Juan kissed her head. He sighed contentedly in response and just mumbled “angel”. He didn’t need to say he loved her too. They were quiet for a couple of minutes after that, just listening to the ambient sounds of her backyard- the water in the pool, the fan overhead, the radio, and the tractor mowing the grass around the paddocks behind them.  Thinking about who might be operating the tractor was the only thing that prompted Christina to extract herself from her post-sex love bubble. It was unlikely but still possible that any of the two guys working on the property could spot her and her friend being too friendly and too naked. “Are you ready to go have lunch now?” she questioned as she felt around for her shirt.

“The part of the day where you look at me asking “Did I do a good job for you, please, please say I did” is over now?”

“Yes,” she nodded. The Spanish player gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

“Where are we going for lunch?”

“Jewish deli. Let me just go put some different shorts on, and then we can go eat our weight in corned beef on rye.”

Christina ran upstairs to exchange her around-the-house shorts for cutoff denim ones, and to fix her hair. It was still in a knot high up on her head, but she was able to make it look less like she’d just had sex with somebody. The pair of athletes then got in André’s G-wagon and dropped the dogs at the barn before heading to what was really a kosher grocery store with a deli counter and four small tables out front with umbrellas. It was the ex-New Yorker’s favorite eatery in her new home, because it reminded her of her first home. It offered all the Manhattan Jewish delicatessen staples- thick cut, moist corned beef, beautifully colored pastrami, tender brisket, nitrate-free kosher hotdogs, dense, seedless rye bread, golden potato knishes, crunchy pickles, light and flaky rugelach, and delicious smelling matzoh ball soup. Luckily for her waistline, none of those wonderful foods tasted as good cold, or heated up at home, as they did hot and fresh, otherwise she would have been eating corned beef, brisket, or hotdogs every day. She got a mountain of corned beef on rye, no mustard, a bottle of root beer, and side of made-to-order French fries in lieu of the coleslaw that ordinarily came with her sandwich, and a new pickle. Juan tried the pastrami, and he did get the mustard and the coleslaw, and the full-sour pickle.

“I feel so insignificant now,” he chuckled across the table after unwrapping his straw. His late lunch date was already two bites into her massive sandwich, which she actually ate with a knife and fork. She glanced up from the paper plate with a curious and confused pinching of her eyebrows. Her mouth was full so she had to rely on her face to convey her response. “Just now you looked as happy about the food as you did earlier. I thought I was special, cariña.” She rolled her eyes while she smiled, and then moved her sunglasses from her shirt to her face.

“There, now your precious ego can’t be hurt by my adoration for kosher meat.”

“Hey, I enjoy when you’re happy, no matter which reason,” Juan shrugged. “Even when it’s André.”

“Uhhuh.”

“Do you feel yet like you’re living a double life? I almost do, and I don’t even have another person for the times when we’re not together, so I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Uhh-“ I know he sounded somewhat serious-ish when he said “Even if it’s André”, but I didn’t know we were going to have a real conversation, Christina thought behind the protection of her aviators. I thought he was teasing, or being sarcastic. She blew all the air in her lungs out at once, making her lips vibrate.

“Err-well...yeah, I guess I do. It’s exaggerated right now though because it’s summer and we’re all traveling. I keep going back and forth between the two of you and I’m never by myself. I don’t know if I’d call it a double life. That feels like something where you have to hide one life from the other. We don’t have that situation. Sometimes I catch myself confusing the two of you though. I made Schü’s coffee the way you like the other day. I dunno.”

“It’s different now, yes? Like you said, because of the summertime. In the beginning of this thing with us you were either in London with me for a long time and only saw him a little, or you were here with him mostly and came to me for a day or two. All summer it’s back and forth, hm? I think often about how you keep it together inside- how you keep it all straight. I think I would struggle.” The Chelsea midfielder kind of shrugged one shoulder and then dug into his similarly enormous sandwich, determined to tackle it without silverware. Half of his almost-double life studied him intently, hoping to find guidance as to whether he was attempting to tell her he wasn’t happy with their arrangement, or that he needed to talk about it, get it off his chest, without literally telling her, or if he was just making conversation.

“When you say you feel almost like you’re living a double life- Is that a bad thing? I mean, it’s not a good thing, probably, but is it a problem? Is it messing you up, for lack of a better- Ya know what? I’m trying to ask if it’s upsetting you. That’s the word for it,” Christina chuckled.

“Not really. I worry more for you. I know we all say, “if it works and makes us happy, it’s fine”, but sometimes I think our situation between us could give long-term issues or something. I don’t know, exactly. Something I think about at night,” Juan shrugged again, very obviously trying to diminish the significance of what he brought up. His friend still couldn’t tell if that meant it really was insignificant or incidental, or if he actually wanted her to dig deeper and extract more feelings from him. He didn’t always sit down or phone her up and say “I need to talk about stuff that’s bothering me”. She worked on her sandwich for a few minutes to digest his words and his body language. The salty, savory, delicious meat was so enjoyable that it was almost distracting. The narrow veins of fat running through it melted like butter in her mouth. It was a rare food that could so dominate her palette that the French fries on the table could go virtually untouched.

“Do you like the pastrami?” she questioned during a corned beef break to have a piece of pickle.

“Yeah, it’s great. Your dad told me a story about you that involved pastrami I think. Did he eat it a lot?”

“He liked it, yeah, but I wouldn’t say he ate it a lot. I can’t imagine what he told you about me that has to do with it. I don’t eat that.”

“He said he had to take you to the dentist to have your braces adjusted every few weeks because your mom was taking Aidan to his art school?” Juan explained with a questioning lilt to solicit validation of his memory. Christina nodded to confirm, and had to smile a bit at how much he remembered from his communications with her father. For once, it didn’t automatically irritate or anger her to think back on their secret pen-pal relationship. “He was telling me how much you hated having to miss out on riding, and getting work on your teeth was bad too, so it was a double-bad day to have to go to the dentist.”

“Orthodontist, actually, but yeah. I hated that. I used to cry about the braces because it hurt so much later at night, and I couldn’t eat anything. Oh! I know what he told you.” Her smile grew with the recognition.

“I can’t remember the name of the restaurant.”

“Ben’s. It’s a kosher restaurant with a big deli counter. It’s a chain. They’re all over. He used to take me there before the orthodontist appointment so that I could have awesome food before the torture.”

“Mm. Herb said he had the pastrami sandwich, or tongue, which I think I saw on the menu here too.”

“Yeah. It’s different than what we had at home but both are gross. He usually had the pastrami though, and I either had two hotdogs- the best hotdogs in the world- or corned beef on white. I didn’t like rye bread until I was a little older. We got chicken noodle soup to go so that I could eat it later when my teeth hurt too much for solid food. The noodles were like little pieces of spaghetti, and it had carrots that were soft and mushy. The crinkle-cut fries there were kind of terrible but I usually got those too, extra well-done. I went there with my mom sometimes too. There was one in this shopping center with a bunch of stores we liked. She has brisket on rye with mayonnaise.”

“What do you think it says that your favorite place to eat here in Germany is with the kind of food you had ritually with your parents?” the restaurant owner thoughtfully inquired at the end of Christina’s fond but rather sedate recounting of her kosher deli past. She resumed eating but her mind was actually still on hotdogs. She’d said Ben’s were the best in the world, and that wasn’t true. The existence of Nathan’s- of Independence Day hotdog eating contest fame- came to her a bit late. It was a little unsettling to realize she could forget pieces of “home” so readily. Nathan’s has been a Coney Island landmark for generations, and it expanded to other standalone locations as well as food court spots, and even sports stadiums and movie theatres. Their hotdogs were her real favorite, and their crinkle-cut fries were even worse than Ben’s but you can get them with melted cheese so that gives them a leg up. She thought of the tiny red two-prong plastic fork that comes with the French fries, and how she was occasionally swayed by the lure of chicken fingers on the menu- always to her ultimate regret. Her mom or dad always had the hotdogs, and as she ate her chicken and watched them gobble down the alternative, it was tempting to go get a hotdog of her own. The freestanding locations have historically also featured big arcades with tons of games and cheap, junky prizes. Christina once went on a school field trip to a garbage processing plant to learn about recycling, and it was just a few minutes from the second biggest Nathan’s so that’s where her class went to eat and play games. It definitely made up for having to visit an actual garbage dump.

“That I like Jew food?” she suggested to Juan, deflecting. I don’t know what it means. I don’t care what it means. It probably doesn’t mean anything, she concluded in part because she was so disinterested in letting him lure her into some intellectual place, or some heady analysis.

“Sure.” The Spaniard was willing to let her off easy. He was pretty into the sandwich too.

“Let’s talk about your parents instead.” The rider was ready for French fries. They were a better interrogatory food. She could use them to point or gesticulate.

“My mom would like a complete schedule of when and how she can watch you ride in Tokyo. I told her we usually text about when you compete and where it’s streamed or broadcast, because I can’t remember if you give me more than a day notice. She wants the schedule up front so she can plan around it.”

“Awwww. That’s so cute. I love your mom.”

“She loves you too.”

“Have you ever imagined as the scenario for me wanting to get married that I like propose to your mom?”

“What?” The Chelsea man snorted and laughed, and a piece of pastrami flew out of his mouth and landed on her root beer, which made her snort and laugh too. Luckily there wasn’t any food in her mouth. The food in her stomach made it uncomfortable when she couldn’t stop laughing though. Only when it actually began to hurt, and when her face started to hurt too, did she take deep breaths and get over the hilarity of the faux pas. It was rare to see Juan embarrass himself.

“What if I asked your mom to be my mom?” I think she might be more overjoyed than he would be if I ever did that, she smiled to herself inside, imaging Mrs. Mata’s outpouring of love, and hugs.

“The only thing she would enjoy more than that is if you asked her if you could be the mother to her first grandchild,” the player shot back pointedly.

“Yeah, I bet.” I shall not take that bait. “Do you want this back?” Christina offered the chewed up piece of meat from her drink bottle back to him, and he just handed her a napkin. “What are you going to do later while I’m riding?”

“Watch?”

“Isn’t that going to be boring?” She wrinkled her nose before inhaling another forkful of warm corned beef along with half a French fry smooshed under the little piece of bread that came with it. The trio of tastes together was almost as good as just the meat.  

“What else do you want me to do? Babysit?”

“You can go exploring or something. Pick a car that isn’t my R8 or the Vantage,” she smirked.

“I’m fine watching. I like to see the horses,” Juan shrugged.

“Is this when you tell me you came to see me, not sightsee in Dortmund?”

“Do I need to? I thought it was obvious.”

“No. I just have this Groundhog Day thing right now because all summer I’ve been flipping back and forth between you and Schü and I’m used to visits being about doing things, or seeing things, not just...like...being together the whole time. It’s not even déjà vu because it literally keeps happening,” the rider sighed while the footballer picked through her fries with his fork. “I always feel like the host, not the attraction, and then one of you tells me it’s not like that.”

“I actually just came to see Lucky, Spencer, and the gray horse with the name that keeps changing. I like him! He’s my friend.” Juan triumphantly showed off the extra-crispy little piece of potato he knew she probably wanted and classed as the most desirable fry. Then he offered it to her. Then he yanked the utensil away before she could get it. Then he ate the French fry. His date pouted and flicked condensation from her root beer off her fingers at him. “I didn’t know you like root beer,” he noted when she went back to the drink to stick her straw in it.

“I like it once every 4 years or so.”

“Oh, this reminds me, I brought something for you.”

“I hope it’s a dragon.”

“What is with you and dragons? You always want it to be a dragon,” he mumbled while fiddling with his combo phone case-card wallet.

“Who wouldn’t want a dragon?”

From it he produced a plastic keycard, like for a hotel room. Christina accepted it and flipped it over to see what it was all about. Why is he giving me the key to a London hotel room, she wondered when she read the name and address below the graphic on the dark blue piece of plastic. She turned it over again for more clues, but there was just some fine print and more contact information, so she looked up at Juan and raised her eyebrow high enough to be visible over her shades.

“You always tell me that you like to keep a little something with you for big competitions, or when you know it’s going to be tough, like when I gave you the rock from the moon? That’s the key to the room I stayed in for the Olympics in London. I thought to give you my credential but it’s too big to keep with you. That fits in your pocket, no?”

“Yeah, I-“ Man, he’s good. He never forgets anything and he’s always so thoughtful. How sweet of hiiiiiiiim. The new Olympian removed her sunglasses to study the token more carefully. There was nothing on it that really necessitated a closer or clearer look, but its stated intrinsic value made it worthy of an unadulterated viewing. The original owner’s explanation took it from a curious keycard to a piece of treasure.

“It wasn’t lucky for me but for you it can either remind you not to lose your composure and lose your head and fuck it all up the way we did there, or you can just have it as a reminder that I’m always with you.” Juan was nonchalant about his gift. If he knew he was presenting precious treasure, he didn’t show it.

Christina mouthed “I love you” across the table because she was afraid to say it out loud- afraid of being overheard. And then she brought the key to her lips for a demonstrative kiss before stowing it safely away in the body of her elephant-shaped, hot pink Loewe mini shoulder bag. The small purse was her anniversary gift from André, and she adored it too. She wasn’t sure yet if she’d take something to the Games with her that would work like the keycard was meant to- as a talisman that could magically connect her to him in the moments when she most needed him. The question arose for her just the day before, when she was helping the German pack his things for camp. He wanted to take a certain t-shirt with him and she tried to hold it hostage so that she could sleep in it. It smelled like him, and it was a little small on him so it was less of a dress on her than most of his shirts. He offered her many other shirts, including a brand new Borussia Dortmund kit that was actually supposed to be for some friend of one of Socks’ owners. It reminded Socks’ rider that she used to bring his football shirts when she first began traveling with the team, so that she’d have a little piece of him with her on the road.

“I don’t want to get too far ahead, but you know you have to give me the medal you win, right? I’ll put it with the Nations Cup one. My own collection.”

“First of all, don’t talk about medals,” the rider warned. “Second of all, keep dreaming.” Her phone vibrated beside her drink with a notification. “Oh! Yay!”

“What?”

“I asked Aidan to ship my rocking horse from mom’s. It was just delivered. Kyle signed for it. I’m so excited! I hope Lukas likes it. I have to figure out where to put it.”

“He has two of his own rooms...”

“He can’t be trusted to have full access. My rocking horse is my rocking horse. It means the world to me. Dad got him for me when I was like 4, for Christmas. He’s from FAO Schwarz and cost a fortune. Lukas would destroy him. He destroys everything,” Christina chuckled. Her son definitely didn’t value most of his belongings the way she did as a child, and was naturally more physical in his play. The worst she ever did to her rocking horse was trim some of his mane.

“Supervised play only.”

“Why not get him his own then?”

“FAO Schwarz went out of business. I hope he traveled okay. New York to Dortmund is a long trip for a 20-something year old rocking horse. I also hope Aidan was able to find his saddle and saddle pad. I did actually cut his bridle off because it was sewn onto his head. I got a foal-size grooming halter to put on him instead. I’ll probably need to do that again.”

“Are you sure you want Lukas to play with it at all, or did you have it sent over just for you?” Juan asked knowingly. She hushed him.

“Hey! Speaking of foals. Wanna go see Dirk and Navarra’s colt? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Sure.”

“Do you mind if we pick up Lukas from Marco’s on the way?”

“Why would I mind?”

“I dunno but it’s polite to ask,” she shrugged. “Should I get a to-go hotdog for him or should I just get some uncooked ones and make him one later? Or rather, let Espen make him one later since I’ll be riding. That’s why I want to get him now. I’m running out of days with him.”

“To-go hotdog. Nothing is better than Mum having food for you in the car when she picks you up.”

“K.”

“Probably it’s pretty good when you finish riding and someone has food for you too, no?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to make dinner for you, then,” Juan announced with a big grin. Christina looked at him like he was nuts. “I own a restaurant!”

“You own like part of a restaurant, and you’ve probably never even touched a pot or pan in it.”

“Do you have food in your kitchen? I’m going to find something to cook for you.

You’ll see.”

“I can’t wait. Don’t burn the place down though. The kitchen is brand new.”