#soccer fanfiction

[moonystoes]

Wrong Number - Elisa De Almeida

Summary: When Elisa sends a picture to the girl she was flirting with at the club...except it wasn't the right number.

Warning: ...there is a picture here loll.

A/n: I'm so sorry but this is by far the worst fic I've written, I've tried to do something new and I'm not so confident about it. I still wanted you guys to read it and all the support from the anonymous asks helped me a lot. Thank you!

This picture is NOT Elisa, it is from @/torinha___ on instagram

The loud music was almost making Elisa dizzy. She gave a small nod to Jackie, pointing to the club seats and tip toeing there to make sure she won't bump into anyone. Elisa didn't want to admit it, but she knew she drank too much than she should've. The squad decided to go and celebrate their win against bayern Munich at a fancy bar in the south of Paris, but they completely forgot about their early afternoon training the next day.

Sakina was the only sober one, restricting alcohol from her diet because of her faith. And even if Islam permitted drinking, she'd still refuse. She loves being in control and aware of her surrounding environments, and if she gets drunk she'd lose all of the power.

Elisa awkwardly bumped into Sakina's shoulder, giving her a soft wave before settling down next to her, "oh my God we are so done for tomorrow, he will kill us."

"He will kill you, not us," she reminded Elisa, "it's okay, just stop drinking or else you'll make tomorrow worse."

"Yeah thanks Saki," Elisa gave Sakina a weak thumbs up as she twisted her body to the table, "I'll just drink water from now on."

Sakina patted Elisa's back as she turned to glance at the other girls. She hates the smell of sweat and drinks, but she loves hanging out with the girls. She can see Jackie and Eva dancing, as well as Clare twirling around... obviously too drunk to even care about how crazy she looks.

When she turned to her left, she noticed a woman staring at Elisa. She wasn't sure if she should let Elisa know about it, or just stay quiet and see if the woman will do anything. But she saw her take quick steps towards the both of them, and that caused Sakina to panic and turn the other way.

"Hey," a sultry voice hit Elisa's ear, feeling a hand squeeze her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was, and she was stunned for a minute by the beauty of the woman.

It's been a while since Elisa had gotten the attention of a girl that way. Even though she's been getting popular on social media, it feels as though her dating life has disappeared. Her last relationship ended because of the distance (her moving from montpellier to psg), and even that relationship was short anyways and ended awfully.

And when she tried dating apps, it seems as though her dates never work. Awkwardness fills both sides, and they ultimately end up ghosting each other. For a second, she tried convincing herself that it's for the best...so she can focus on football only. But now she is getting a little humiliated by all of this. Even her teammates make jokes about it (Eva laughed after Elisa opened up about her dating history, then proceeded to say she has '0 rizz').

She glanced back to the glass of water in front of her, then back to the woman in front of her. Maybe she should try this one more time, it won't hurt anyone...besides, everyone is drunk and if she embarrassed herself she'd probably forget about it anyways.

"Hey sweetheart," she smiled back, as she chugged the cold water, hoping it will make her sound less drunk than she is.

But when she glanced back at the stranger, she noticed her face was in complete shock, "oh my God, you're a girl?!"

"Haha...yeah, does that bother you?" Elisa gets this a lot in situations like this. In pure daylight, it's obvious she's just a masculine woman. But in dark clubs filled with drunk people, some visions get blurred. She just hoped that the women that try and flirt with her are actually attracted to women.

"Oh...no it doesn't," she gave a soft smile, her hand softly moving from Elisa's shoulder to the nape of her neck, delicately squeezing the tough muscle in there, "I just didn't know you were a girl and your voice caught me off guard."

Sakina was glaring at the stranger, having to see Elisa fall into the same trap everytime. She knew Elisa was desperate for some love (she does get laid apparently...well, that's what she tells Sakina), and this causes her to end up being in sticky situations with many straight women.

"My name is Sophie by the way," she raised her little champagne cup to Elisa, stepping closer to her to the point where her body was between Elisa's legs.

"Hey Sophie, I'm Elisa," She grinned at her with a wink, she lifted her right hand and placed it on Sophie's waist, "no work tomorrow?"

"Ew don't bring work here I'm trying to escape it," she fake gagged, placing the champagne glass on the table and placing her other hand on Elisa's thigh.

Usually, Elisa would freak out by the amount of physical touches she's getting. Especially by someone who she met not even a minute ago, but Sophie was an attractive woman...and that made her lose all the self respect she had and allowed her to do whatever she wants to her body.

She giggled at what she said, "Yeah me too."

"Your muscles are great, I've never seen a woman like that before," Sophie looked down as she tapped Elisa's tough quads, making sure that they're real.

Yeah because you haven't seen women in the first place,

Sakina thought as her blood started boiling, maybe she was being too much. Maybe Sophie was actually not straight and Sakina had been a bitch this whole time. But it doesn't matter, what matters is that Elisa is definitely too drunk to actually thinking appropriately.

"Yeah?" Elisa smirked at Sophie, she lifted up her sleeve and flexed her bicep, looking at Sophie's dropped jaw.

"Oh wow, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Elisa burst out laughing, she knew if she can continue with the flirting she can possibly end up in a bedroom. The way Sophie was approaching her was definitely strange, but she did love the attention. And anyone who compliments her hard work in the gym makes her feel confident and cocky.

Sakina was grabbing her head with both of her hands, she wanted to pull Sophie away and drag Elisa home. She glanced up to check up on Jackie, Eva, and Clare. And she saw them cleaning up the little table they were using.

Alhumdulillah, Sakina thanked god realizing that she will be driving them home now.

"Psst, Elisa we're going now." She tapped Elisa on the shoulder, making sure she won't touch Sophie's clingy hand.

Elisa glanced back to Sophie with an evident pout, "sorry, I gotta go...can I get your number? we can finish the conversation there."

Her hand kept delicately squeezing Sophie's waist, waiting for a response from her. Sexting wasn't something she did, but she had some experience with from the long distance relationship that didn't last 2 months.

Sophia stood there slightly speechless, contemplating whether she should actually give out her phone number to Elisa, or run away from this embarrassing day.

"Okay, give me your phone and I'll type it."

Unknown Number

This is how it looked under the shirt 😉

You huffed as you stared at the 11:59 on your computer screen. Working is always exhausting, but the paycheck makes it enjoyable. Your eyes were slightly burning from staying on the computer for too long, and it makes you feel way older than you knew you are. You were hoping time would move quickly so you can start your lunch, but a sudden ding came from your phone.

You glanced at Jasmine, your coworker, as she gave you a shrug, "check your phone, I don't think anyone will care. I mean lunch is gonna start in 29 seconds...no 28...no actually 27."

You sighed as you pulled your phone out from your purse, but froze when you saw a notification from an unknown number. You rarely get these texts, especially after the cybersecurity course you took that left you traumatized. But something from this made you curious, for sure now as an adult you can think maturely when texting strangers. Maybe it's an important message or someone who needs help.

You pressed on the notification, and gasped. Turning off off your phone, you stared back at computer screen, moving the mouse around making sure you finish your job.

"Damn you really wanna finish all 60 seconds. 16...15...14." Jasmine laughed at your nonchalant face.

You frustratingly pulled you phone back, reading the texts again. You are an adult now! You can tell them off. What if they're a hacker and they'll get into your personal data and leak all of your pictures? You glanced back at the picture as your face flushed, damn even if it's gross and weird to send strangers pictures like this...you were guilty for finding whoever this person may be attractive.

Maybe they accidentally sent it to the wrong number,

??

This is Elisa from the club last night haha

Elisa? That's a girl name right? You closed your eyes, now you're definitely guilty for finding her attractive. You were so single that a nude picture from a random masculine woman is making your face turn red. You looked back at the picture, not knowing how to respond.

Wrong number

I didn't go to a club last night

Sorry x

I'm pretty sure the person would've loved that picture though

Seen 4 minutes ago

Elisa screeched as she saw those texts, throwing the phone away in the locker room. Sakina turned around horrified from the scream, "Eli, what's wrong!"

"Saki kill me," she dropped her face into her hands as she lightly sobbed. Her right leg was twitching up and down as she sat down on one of the locker room seats.

Sakina placed her hair brush in her locker as she sighed from Elisa's dramatic behavior, "oh come on...what did you do?" But when she turned to look at Elisa, her dameanor turned serious. Elisa's face was bright red, eyes filled with tears and eyebrows furrowed.

She stepped towards Elisa worriedly, looking at Elisa's phone laying on the ground. She walked towards her phone, trying to see what even happened.

"No!" Elisa jumped up and grabbed her phone, hiding it into her chest, "Saki I made a stupid mistake."

"You're scaring me, just tell me what you did." Sakin came closer to Elisa, pushing her back into sitting.

"Do you remember Sophie from yesterday?" Elisa guiltily looked down as she whispered to Sakina.

Sakina rolled her eyes, "yes...I do remember her."

Elisa sighed again, this time in frustration and humiliation, "well...I guess she gave me a fake number," she looked back at Sakina's angry face, but right when she was about to response, Elisa interrupted her, "Sakina I sent a naked picture to some random girl...or worse, fuck that could be a man!"

Sakina's jaw dropped to the ground as she heard what Elisa did, but Elisa interrupted her again, "please don't lecture me about it. I know, I swear I know."

She gave Elisa a tight smile, pulling her in a hug to comfort her, "it could be a girl, and she could be cute and sweet and would actually like you. Maybe God made this a chance for you to find your one."

Elisa took a deep breath, trying to calm down her beating heart. It's not the end of the world, she can just block that number and pretend this never happened, or she could try and talk to the stranger. Maybe sakina was right, "Yeah...you're right. I should put my trust on God for this one, and if it was a 60 year old man I will blame it on him."

Sakina slapped Elisa's shoulder sarcastically, "actually you're the one who decided to send a nude picture to a random person...maybe you're the one to blame here," Elisa covered her face again with her hands, raising her face to the sky as she was mumbling some prayer, "Besides...can I see what you sent her?" Sakina winked as she tried to take Elisa's phone, now placed between Elisa's thighs.

Elisa opened her phone and showed her the texts, but Sakina's loud laughter made her shut it down and turn away from her, "God you're so bad at texting...what type of opening is that? I think she's a girl, a guy won't text that way right?"

Elisa shrugged, opening her phone again and tapping on the chat to text. It could be a girl right? It has to be, or else she will kill herself and disappear.

What if she's a fan and leaks the picture? A thousand thoughts were in her mind, so she decided to just text the stranger a small apology.

Omg

I'm so sorry

I should've sent a message first

I'm gonna kill myself 😭😭

Haha, no it's okay!

At least it's not a 😼 picture

And you have a great back!

That's a girl... definitely, right? Elisa blushed at the compliment, hiding her face away from Sakina not wanting another lecture.

Thanks

Sorry for bothering you I'm pretty sure you didn't want to see this on a Tuesday afternoon

I'm just glad it's lunch break now

Also sorry about the whole wrong number thing I'm pretty sure you're bummed about it

Yeah I thought we were getting along pretty well

I'm just confused on why she gave me a wrong number

She was the one who approached me

:((( well at least you made my lunch break better

Oh yeah?

I'm glad

Wait you're working right? Not a student 💀💀

Lollll yeah I'm 25

What about u?

26

What kind of work do you do?

My desk :((

I'm a financial analyst

That sounds way fancier than it it I swear

Seen a minute ago

"Elisa what are you smiling about?" Sakina turned around suspiciously, now her hair braided.

"Oh nothing," she shrugged sakina off, turning away so Sakina can't see her face. But she sighed loudly, realizing that she needed Sakina's advice, "she's definitely a girl. And around my age, that's good, right?"

Before Sakina could leave the locker room, she stood at the door and softly said, "be safe Elisa...and no more nude pics to her, please."

Elisa huffed out in embarrassment and nodded, glancing back at her phone to text you back.

Oh wow we're sending pics now?

Why is it sad 😔

Babe you already did send pics

I tried decorating it but I gave up in a day

Oh yeah

Haha

Sorry again

Can I get a face pic :)

Only if you do

No way

Why not ☹️☹️

Cuz I just started texting you

But why do I have to

Ma'am you just sent me a picture of your bare back

I promise a face picture is nothing compared to that

😭😭😭

Ohh god

you're never gonna forget that

You don't have to

I just wanna match a face to the body ;)

"Fuck." Elisa whispered, you were good at convincing and she knew that if you asked her for another nude picture her nïave self would have sent one again.

She looked up to the sky and closed her eyes, "please don't make her some old man that's lying."

There was also a small feeling of anxiety in her, she knew that if things got awkward she can immediately block you and move on. But what if you recognize her? Would you leak that photo to the internet? She groaned out and responded, women's football isn't even that big anyways.

Okay

Is this from today?

No yesterday

Seen 2 minutes ago

You bit your lip, turning your seat away from Jasmine not ready for the questionnaire she'll make if she sees you like this.

Elisa is beautiful. No...she's hot and sexy and all of those words combined. You slowly faced Jasmine again, "Hey Jasmine... I need an advice."

Jasmine stopped drinking her hot tea as she glimpsed at you, "what for?"

You whined loudly as you threw your phone towards her, "this unknown number sent me a message accidentally, but turns out she's a hot girl."

Jasmine choked on her drink when she saw the selfie Elisa sent, "Oh my God! Oh my God y/n, do not fuck this up!"

You stared at her stunned, "so...you're not worried about how unsafe this is?"

Jasmine zoned out to think, but she glanced back at you, "well...don't give her personal information, and try to find more about her," she returned your phone back to you, "Ugh...smash. I can't believe how lucky you got...wait! You can put her picture on pinterest or Google search and it will tell you if she's catfishing you!"

You turned to look at the picture on your phone again, you knew Jasmine was right about that hack. But you didn't want to keep Elisa waiting. For some reason, there is a feeling in you that this isn't some random person catfishing...that Elisa is real.

You look really tan here

And cute

Elisa let out a small giggle at the cute comment. What if she means cute as in a friendly way, not attractive cute? Ughhhh everything is frustrating!

I get tan a lot for my job

And sweaty

Oh?

Why am I getting worried 😭

What do you mean sweaty

I will support you no matter what elisa

You're so dirty minded

I'm just an athlete

That's it

So naughty

Seen 2 minutes ago

"Ugh!" You shut your phone off and placed your head on your desk exhaustedly, "she said 'so naughty'... that's awful."

Jasmine cackled loudly at what you said, "if it was a guy it would be cringe. But it's not, so it's hot."

--

Elisa sent that message while standing on her tippy toes. She knew that her flirting skills are below average. She was staring at the screen hoping for a small message, but Eva came into the room making Elisa freak out and throw her phone in the locker.

"Hey Elisa, everything okay?" She worriedly glanced at her as she brought out her phone, "I'm gonna go and film a tiktok with Jackie. You should go to the gym room or else you'd get in trouble."

Elisa stopped 'adjusting' her hair in the mirror and nodded to Eva, "oh yeah... I go there in a minute."

Eva laughed at Elisa's accent and tapped her shoulder as she left the room. Elisa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, until she heard a small ding from her phone.

Sorry lunch break is over

You're the one who sent me a nude pic

OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP

I have to go training now anyways

Talk to you later

Stranger

Bye bye Elisa

Have fun xx

It was 3 pm when you waved goodbye to your coworkers, exhausted and ready to go home. You were thinking about Elisa, you knew you had to quick search that picture to make sure you weren't getting fooled.

Once you reached your little studio apartment, throwing your bag on your couch and laying there. You weren't expecting anything when you went on pinterest and placed her selfie on quick search. But to your surprise, the same selfie was on there too.

You instantly sat up on your couch, no way... I'm actually getting catfished. You tapped on the post and saw the name 'Elisa de Almeida' as the caption.

Is that her full name?

Guilt was consuming your heart, you felt as though you were 'cheating' for searching her name on Google instead of just asking her.

Whatever, you'll search later. You will just text her and get to know her that way.

You do training for what?

You turned off your phone and went to the kitchen to make a quick lunch meal, not expecting her to respond quickly. But your phone's notification was heard, and you ran to the couch to grab it. Damn, she texts fast.

For my job

What's your job :(

I told you mine

I play football

And get paid for that

Elisa was on her couch when she heard a new message from you. She had been waiting for you to start the conversation, since she had no idea on how to text women.

When she saw the question, she frowned. She doesn't like to introduce her job to people no matter how much she's proud of herself for becoming pro. But she didn't want to lie, and maybe you wouldn't tease her or get overwhelmed and leave her.

Wait professionally??

That's so cool

Yeah

Thanks

I know your number is French but I know that players travel around

Where do you stay

Paris

I'm in my apartment right now

I can't believe you just play football like????

So if I search your picture online I can see what team you're in?

Yes but I'd rather me say it

Oh...too late I'm sorry 💔

Seen 2 minutes ago

Elisa jumped up, fucking hell!

She stared at the black screen of her TV, are you going to be weirded out by her fans? Would that make you leave?

Elisa?

I'm sorry if I broke your privacy for this

My apologies xx

You huffed out a heavy breath, Damn it! You should've talked to her instead of doing this. Now she's probably uncomfortable with you because of this.

No it's okay

I just didn't know people can do that

Yeah haha

This is pinterest

And you can do that on Google too

That's how I know the names of the weird plants around my building

I'm really sorry if it made you weird

It's okay I guess I just wanted to lie to you and joke about my career but I forgot I'm kinda famous

Oh wowww

Were you going to lie that you're the female Messi or what

Wait if that picture was from yesterday, your fans are quick 😭

I actually prefer Ronaldo

Yeah sometimes they scare me

Ew not him

What type of fans do you have

The thirsty kind

They're nice and make cool edits of me

Sometimes violate my personal space but that's what you get when you're in public ig

Ohh I'm so sorry

Omg i just realized how scary it would've been if I were one of your fangirls and you sent me that nude pic 😭😭😭

Lolll 😂😂

I was freaking out for a while when I found out you weren't the girl

Aren't you happy that you found me though 😁😁

I am

You're pretty cute

Even when you refuse to show me how you look

Elisa :(((

I can't do it just yet

I know

I understand that

Where do you live

That's not a safe question to ask 🤨🤨

I live in Paris too

Just the unknown quiet side

That's cute

Pretty chill and tourists don't bother you

Do you live in a fancy apartment or with your family

A studio apartment

Gotta save my money to spoil my future wife

Wife?

Are you gay?

Elisa please if I weren't gay I would've blocked you and moved on with life

Elisa smiled brightly when she read your message, does that mean you're interested in her?

Good

Because I'm gay

I don't think it's hard to figure that out

But I'm glad you're comfortable with me knowing about it

It's easier when it's texting

It would've been harder in real life

I think if I saw you in real life I would scream GAY

Oh wow

I would've done the same thing

Nuh uh

Yuh uh

I would've also asked you out

If I wouldn't be shaking from anxiety

Really?

Am I your type

YES??

I don't think you understand the panic I had in my office when you sent me the pic of your face

Good

Now I wanna see you

Elisa stop

Sorry

No I'm sorry

I can send you a picture of my face

But

I need abs selfie

??

Hmm...I'm conflicted

I'm just kidding

Unless

Hmm

I wanna see you so bad

Okay calm down

Don't put your hand under your panties

HUH

Do you wanna meet up

That's kinda unsafe

I could be a catfisher

But are you though?

I can't believe a catfisher can text like this 🙈🙈

😭😭😭

You're so cute

And now that you mentioned us meeting

It makes texting you even harder

I'm on my bed now

Oh??

Do you need help with something?

...

Depends on what you can offer

Chocolate 🍫

Oh I was expecting something else

But I'd take it

I'm gonna sleep

Good night

Stranger

Good night Elisa

Dream of me

X

Elisa stared at the message you sent with a smirk on her face. It's been scary how fast the pace of your conversations is, but she was happy. It meant that the both of you guys are comfortable texting each other. She shut the phone off and stuffed her face into the pillow, dreaming of the one and only...'stranger'.

It's been a week and I still don't know your name

Xoxo gossip girl

Actually

I never watched that show

Please 🥺🥺🥺

You've seen my bare back and face

And locker room

And my TV

And the gym

Toes

You basically have seen everything

Maam

I was just gonna say it

It's y/n

I wanna see you 😔

You basically know my whole schedule

Yeah you're gonna go buy groceries today

Stop stalking me 😟😟

You don't have training today

You have a match

Turn off the phone and get ready

It's just 12pm??

The match is at 7

When do you have to get ready

We have to be there around 5

We're gonna be wearing suits today 🕴🕴

OMG

Show me to me rachel

Send it to me pleaseee

What

Who the fuck is rachel

Idk if I'll be free and send you a pic

Usually I turn off my phone before

It's a tiktok trend

Oldie

Ohh

I prefer instagram

Are you liking other women posts while texting me???

Whore

Give me your Instagram account and I'll like every post 😘😘

No don't say that I have pictures from when I was 14 there

Oh nvm maybe not every post

Wait why do you have posts from back then 😭😭

Your account sounds like a mess

Because I looked cunty in the pictures?? Besides my account is private and I have like 60 followers only

What about you?

What about me?

How was younger you?

I don't wanna talk about younger me

Nooooo

Please

I'm pretty sure you looked so cute 🥺🥺

Wait some of your fangirls probably have pictures

Ughh

Fine

Go and look on pinterest or whatever

if you don't want me to know it's okay

i was joking xx

no me too

its okay

you've seen my back i dont think baby me is that bad

go ahead

your back is not bad what are you talking about ;)

THATS YOU?

stopp you looked so cute

OMG

No

Not this

Omg in my defense my ex gf at the time thought I was hot here

Pleasee I probably would be blushing too if I were her look at you 🥺🥺

YOU HAD A GF AT THAT AGE??

Yeah young love

She was in france for the summer

Like two weeks only and she was brazilian so my dad liked her

...your dad?

Ohhh

Wait that sounded wrong

She used to speak with my dad portuguese and he is from portugal

Ohhhh

So he wanted her to teach u?

Yeah but we were busy doing other things

Ew

Stop talking about your ex im gonna get jealous

Im joking

I was too scared to do anything like that

Well actually i did have my first kiss with her

But it was mostly really shy awkward football dates

Elisa im gonna block you shut the fuck up

Wow

What about you

Young love?

I had my first relationship when i was 20 💀

And she CHEATED

Ugh the audacity

Awhh

What awh

You think me getting cheated on is cute

Okay whore

Omg no please no more baby pics

But you looked cute :(((

Baby eli

seen 4 hours ago

Elisa scratched her chin as she eyed Constance, hoping she would start a conversation, "what's wrong? Eli please..." Constance giggled as she saw Elisa's face.

"Awh thank you for asking I was questioning our friendship for a second," Elisa joked, smacking picaud's shoulder, "do you remember the girl from the club?"

"the straight one?" Picaud questioned as she buttoned the suit, trying her best to look presentable.

"the straigh- she was not straight." Elisa froze, looking at picaud's reflection in the mirror.

"Bitch please even Sakina, the straightest girl I know, noticed that," She tapped Elisa's shoulder to comfort her as she cackled.

Elisa felt blood running to her cheeks, was she that drunk not to notice? Maybe that's why she gave you the wrong number. Elisa felt deep embarrassment for not realizing sooner.

"Anyways... I'm sorry about it. What were you going to say?" She starting applying gel to her roots.

"Ugh... you're going to laugh at me even more now," Elisa rolled her eyes and contiuned buttoning her dress shirt, completely ignorning the concerning glance Constance is giving her, "Okay fine! She gave me a wrong number... and I accidentally... well not accidentally, I actually meant it...sent her a nude picture. A picture of my back, and it was another girl that's gay and around our age and she also lives here in Paris. Anyways, I just want to ask her out but I keep sounding like a cat in heat on how desperate I am and i don't want to scare her."

Constance jaw was on ground listening to Elisa's ramble, "Wait what?! Elisa are you out of your mind? Why the fuck did you send a random number a picture of your back?" She dropped her arms to her sides as she gave Elisa a disappointed look. Elisa turned the other way so Picaud doesn't look at her red face, "Oh my god are you hiding from me? Look at least she's a gay girl around your age...that's good, right?"

Elisa didn't respond for a second, "Ugh everyone keeps yelling and laughing at me for what I did...but I swear she's really cute."

Pauline took a step towards Elisa and gave her a tight hug, "Can I see how she looks?"

"I don't know how she looks." Elisa shut her eyes tightly, preparing herself for the 5th lecture of this whole situation.

It was a minute of silence in the bathroom stalls, Picaud thinking of a kind and non-hurtful way to call Elisa stupid while Elisa was thinking of a way to allow you to meet her.

"Elisa you're the master of how to get catfished 101," She groaned out, pulling away from the hug to look at Elisa, "but...I'm not 100% against it. I think you should just continue letting her expose things about her. Write on your notes everything she says about her personal information and read over it...if things don't match then block her and move on."

Elisa quietly thanked God, no more yelling and shouting at her face. She nodded eagerly at what Picaud said and immediately left the bathrooms. She has to stop being distracted, there is a match happening today and you were the only thing she was thinking about.

That's it??

I wanted to see your face :((

Sorry I have to go now

Love you

I know you're busy

Good luck

Seen 3 hours ago

The players hugged each other, too tired to speak up after the tiresome match. The team won 2 - 0 against Paris fc at parc de princes, and even with the win they knew their performance wasn't the best. It was Chawinga that scored those two, and the rest of the team was lacking a lot chemistry and communication.

Elisa tried her best, but the memory of her losing the ball to the opposing striker keeps haunting her. She knew that Twitter is definitely going to be grilling her for it, and she had made a promise to herself that searching her name on Twitter is not allowed for her mental health.

She remembered you and smiled, at least now she can text you all night without the stress of a match in her head.

Glancing around the stadium, she saw many teenage girls screaming and waving at her to try and get her attention. She gave them a soft smile and waved back, making them scream even louder. Ugh I wish I can get y/n's attention like this.

Hey

The match just finished

I'm sweaty and everyone else is screaming and singing but I wanted to text you

I know

I'm proud of you

I watched you play in front of me and I don't think I've been more proud and attracted to anyone before

Wait

YOURE HERE

Pleaer dobr leave

Please do t

Dnt

Slmt

DONT

😭😭😭

Im staying here baby I'm not going anywhere

I'm going out of the locker room

Where are you

Which section

I'm waving

Wearing a white jacket

Wait why am I looking at a bald man with a white jacket and waving 😟😟

WAIT I SEE HIM

Turn around

Seen

Elisa turned around and had eye contact with you, maintaining it for maybe too long for your comfort. She wanted to make sure it was you, pointing at her phone as she gave you a questioning glance.

Understanding her gesture, you looked down and sent her a message,

that's me :)

Elisa you're scaring me

that's why I didn't send you a picture of my face in the beginning

y/n

Can you come down

ok

The stadium was already empty, having only the ball kids and the cleaners going around and collecting things. You started taking steps down the stairs, getting closer to Elisa as she was standing right on the edge.

"Hey! You're not allowed to get closer!" A security barged near you and placed his palm in your chest, trying to stop you from getting closer to Elisa.

"She's mine, you can leave her." Elisa placed her foot on one of the advertising boards, ready to jump and pull you away from him.

"She doesn't have the right pass, miss." He pushed you backwards, even when you were frozen in place in the first place.

"I don't fucking care what pass she has, I already told you she's mine!" Elisa was fed up with the security man, it's been a long day and having you right in front of her was exactly what she needed, and she won't allow anyone to stop it.

He turned to look at Elisa's angry face, giving her a timid nod before removing his arm from your front torso.

She sighed as she signalled for you to get closer, "sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"Hey..." You shyly gave her a soft wave, almost like it's the first time you guys have talked.

"Hi," she waved back with a lopsided smile, she couldn't believe that you were hiding this from her, "I don't understand why you didn't want me to know how you look when you look like this."

You jokingly slapped her shoulder away, biting your lip in embarrassment.

"No, seriously!" Elisa had a wide grin, suddenly the win they had today didn't matter. It was you that made her happy. She placed her hands on your cheeks, pulling you in so that your foreheads are touching.

"You played so good, Eli," you whispered to her, you knew looking at her eyes will make you melt into the ground, so you kept your eyes down at her lips, "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, I don't think people on the internet are going to agree though," You wrapped your arms around her broad shoulders to pull her more into you. It was slightly harder because of the board between you, but you managed through.

Elisa pulled away from your hug and bent down, making you confused on what she was trying to do. She placed both of her arms around your waist and carried you, turning around to the other side so you can both hug without anything seperating you.

"I don't care what they say on twitter, I am José Mourinho and I think you're a fast, strong, and a hot player," you spoke in a deep voice pointed your finger at her, making her laugh as she pulled you in again in a tight hug.

"Let me take you out," she murmured under your ear, "I need to take you on a date."

Your face was a blushing mess, it was hard to say no to her. Even when she looked attractive on the selfies, seeing her in real life was something else, "I want to go out with you too, but we're going too fast. We've only been texting for one week."

"Everything was going fast when I started our conversation with that picture, I think we will be fine." Elisa hoped she didn't sound desperate, but she cannot let you go, she will never forgive herself.

You laughed at what she said, placing your hands on her back to feel the muscles from the picture, "okay, let's go somewhere,"

She pulled away slightly to look at your face with a pink blush around her face. Bending down, she gave your right cheek a kiss and hugged you again, "ugh I can't believe you're real!"

[footballfanficwriter]

Dinner with the Bellinghams

Summary:After being in Madrid for a long time, Denise has invited Jude,reader and their kids for Dinner

"Are you happy to be home?" I ask Jude

"Yeah, It's been such a long time"

We're in England, after not being here for such a long time and it's been some  time since the kids have seen their grandparents

"I'm so excited to taste nan's Chicken Roast, it's been such a long time" Alice says

"Or her creamy mashed potatoes" Alicia replies

I turn to Jude and he smiles at me

"Are we there yet?" they both ask

"That's the tenth time you've both asked that" Jude replies

A sigh is heard from behind the both of us

"We're almost there" I reply

we finally arrive and decide to park In the driveway

The minute the car stops Alice attempts to open the door, but stops remembering that it's child locked

"Dad can you please open the door"

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming"

I make my way out the car and walk to Alicia's side and open the door as Jude does the Same for Alice

The minute the doors open the girls race eachother to the front door and wait patiently for the Jude and I too arrive

Jude knocks on the door and after a minute the door opens to reveal Mark

"GRANDAD" the girls scream and tackling his legs

"My gosh look who it is, you've both grown so much, you lot are gonna be as tall as me one day"

The girls giggle and Jude and I step forward to hug Mark, Jude being the first amongst the two of us

"Hi dad, how are you" Jude says as he steps forward for a hug

"I'm good, just happy you guys are here" Mark replies pulling away from the hug and turning towards me

I step forward for a hug

"You've always been my favourite, between you and Jude" he whispers into my ear

I laugh at his comment

"How are you?" I ask

"Good, you know how it is here, a mad house"

"I'm sure it can't be that bad"

He releases a slight chuckle

"You're about to witness it first hand"

I give him a confused look but don't get to ask what he means

"Alright, come in everybody" Mark says and picks the girls up each resting on one arm and we follow behind

"Grandad, do the Magic trick" Alicia says

"What magic trick?"

"The one you always do, c'mon"

He places the girls down and squats to their level

"Alright", he reaches behind Alice's ear and pulls out a sweet(candy)

"Have you been cleaning your ears lately? He asks her

Alice giggles

"Do me next grandad" Alicia says

"Alright"

He reaches behind her ear and pulls out a coin

"My Gosh, I'm quiet certain that you lot have not been cleaning you ears lately"

Both girls giggle and Denise comes down the stairs

"Are those my favourite girls I hear?"

"NANA"

"Hello my Darlings, My goodness you both have grown so much"

"That's what grandad said"

"Well he was right look at you"

I walk towards her and come in for a hug

"Hi Mom, you alright?"

"Yeah, great, you still need to tell me about you know what"

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you much later"

"Ok"

I step away  and Jude steps forward and greets her

After the greetings, Alicia asks a question

"Did you make your chicken roast" Alicia asked

"And your creamy Mashed potatoes?" Alice asked

"Well actually, Your Uncle Jobe made dinner today"

"What?" Jude and I ask

"Yep, he didn't have any help as well"

"Lord have mercy" Jude says

"Oh c'mon I'm sure it won't that bad, right?" I ask

"Yeah, let's be positive, we don't know how it will turn out" Denise says

And in that moment Jobe walks out of the Kitchen and wipes his hands on the apron

"Hello everyone glad we're all here, Dinner is nearly ready" He says dressed like one of those chefs from ratatouille

"What are you wearing" Jude asks

"My chef outfit, it's great right?" Jobe asks

Jude looks at me with a smirk and I hit his bicept

"Be nice" I say

"Fine"

"Ok if you'd all just make your way to the dining room" Jobe says

We Make our way to the dining room, take our seats and patiently wait for Jobe to lay the food on the table

When he finally does we all look at it in horror

"Bon appetit, dig in"

Nobody moves

A sigh is heard next to me coming from Jude

"Guys, dinner is served" Jobe says with a bright smile

"Right, well here we go" I say reaching for the rice

I take a spoon full and place it on my plate

And everybody else follows dishing up for themselves

I turn towards the kids and ask them what the would like to eat

And they both tell me as I place the food on their plates

We say grace and Denise turns to Jobe

"Are you not eating love?" Denise asks Jobe trying to prolong the inevitable

"No I already had something to eat, so that there would be enough food for everyone, if anyone wanted seconds"

"Well isn't that nice of you Jobe" I say

"Thank you, now go on and eat, your food will get cold"

Everyone starts by going for different things on their plate and placing it in their mouths

Alice starts with her piece of chicken, continuously chewing it with  determination and one of her eyebrows raised

I turn to Alicia and see her trying to figure out what she's just put into her mouth, is it rice,mashed potatoes or both

Next I see Denise and Mark exchange looks and open their pastries that are in front of them to reveal a brown looking gravy with what looks like meat

A cough is heard besides me, coming from none other than my Husband

He's picking at his plate with the same facial expression as Alicia trying to figure out if it's mashed pumpkin or is it mashed carrots and why the pasta is in a ball shape

"So guys how is it?"

"Great Jobe I really like the pasta, really unique way of making it, you're gonna need to give me the recipe for this" I say

Jude and the kids look at me with horror, like I've just said the most diabolical thing in the world

"Yeah, the pasties are really delicious, I like the chicken inside it" Denise says

"That's beef" Jobe says

"Oh, well I like it very much, right Mark?" She asks

"Yep, Most definitely, really delicious"

"And you Jude, how's you meal?" Jobe asks

"Uhm, it's, I can't put it into words, it's just so good that I have nothing to say that can describe the taste, I'm speechless"

"Alicia, Alice?" Jobe asks

"Yeah, I really like the chicken uncle Jobe, my favourite, I wish mommy made it like this" Alice says

"Well I'll give her the recipe and you can have it every night"

"My God" Jude mutters under his breath

"Great" she replies with the brightest smile

"Alicia?"

"I love the Mashed potatoes, it's like nana made them" she replies

We all look at him and he looks proud of himself

"I'll go and get dessert, I made it myself"

"Oh wow, just when you think you've seen it all, there's another suprise" Jude says

"Oh there will be plenty more surprises" Jobe replies and goes to the kitchen

For a moment it's quiet, until Alice taps my arm

"Mom, what's this?" She whispers pointing to her plate

"I don't know love, I'm just as confused"

The silence resumes again, I look out the window and see Charlie the Family Dog watching us from the outside

I turn to Jude and he looks at me and I nod my head towards Charle whose outside and Jude understands

"Alright everyone hand me your plates" Jude says

"Why?"

"Just do it quickly, c'mon hurry up" he says while taking everyone's plate

"Jude what are you about to do" Denise asks

"Has anyone fed Charlie today?"

"No not yet, why"

"Well he's about to get his first meal" Jude says

And quickly Walks out the house through the front door and puts the food into Charlie's doggy bowl

He quickly walks back into the house and hands everyone their plates back and sits back down

"This doesn't feel right to do" Mark says

"The hospital is not too far away dad, do you feel like going to visit today?" Jude asks

"No, I don't"

"Alright everybody, here we are ... crepes" Jobe says

"Now mind you they are store bought so please don't kill me, Plan A Failed, it was suppose to be a trifle"

"Oh, no Jobe sorry, we know how you were looking forward to it, don't worry it's the fact that you made an effort, that what counts" Denise says

"Thanks mom let's dig in shall we?"

"Certainly"

We eat the crepes in silence until Jobe looks at our previous plates from his meal that he prepared

"You guys must have been pretty Hungry, you cleared the plates" he says

"Yeah, the meal was really divine, to say the least" I reply and everyone agrees by nodding their heads

After having dessert we all take time to relax, spending Family time and catching up on the recent events of what has been happening in our lives

"So, what did you do after she went around saying you were sleeping with the boss" Denise asks as we're now sat on the sofa she's referring to the thing I promised I'd tell her later

"I reported her, she had no right, I earned that position fair and square she had no right to sabotage me" I reply

"And where is she now?"

"Fired, they found our she was actually stealing sums of money from the firm"

"What?"

"Yeah"

"Babe, I think it's time to go home, the girls are asleep" Jude says holding each child with one arm as they use each of his shoulders as their pillows

"Alright then I'll grab my coat" I say standing up from the sofa and walking to where my coat is

"Wait, you forgot the recipes" Jobe says

I hadn't forgotten I was just hoping he did though

"Oh snap, yeah hand them over"

"Here I've already written them down for you" he says handing me 2 A5 papers

"My goodness how thoughtful of you"

"It's not a problem, really"

"Alright everyone we're on our way,thank you so much for dinner Jobe"

"No problem, it was my pleasure, do you guys want a takeaway, before you go?"

"No thank you Jobe we're quiet stuffed"

"Alright"

We way our goodbyes and drive to the home we have in England

"Hand them over"

"What?"

"The recipes"

I hand them over to him and he throws them in the bin

"Jude"

"What, we both know you weren't going to make them, they would've probably just ended up in the bin"

"Yeah but what if I actually wanted to try the recipes"

"Don't play around like that babe"

I laugh and take one of the girls from him and we walk upstairs and tuck them in their beds

"They really knew what to say, didn't they?"

"It actually concerns me how good they are at lying on the spot, what happens when they're older?"

"I don't know really, i guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there"

"Yeah, I guess"

[wavypotatochips]

hey, can I request kylian's dating a supermodel and she's modeling for savage x fenty so when her pics and videos of the show get posted online, his teammates jokingly mess with him to try to make him jealous but instead kylian just gets all smug bragging about his gf 😏 he's still lowkey jealous tho but only hakimi or ney notice bc of how well they know him 😂

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 | 𝐀 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: YAAAY FINALLY MBAPPE RECOGNITION !!!! Mbappe and NeymarJr deserves more requests !! My babygorls <3 Sorry if this is a bit short, as I wrote this specifically in response to your request rather than constructing a "story-like scenario" because I wasn't sure how to build up to this point. c:

I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

Kylian Mbappe is a young and talented French soccer player who has been making waves in the world of sports for many years now. Recently, he has been in the headlines not just for his skills on the field, but also for his relationship with supermodel, Y/N. When his girlfriend's pictures and videos from the shoot were posted online, his teammates couldn't resist teasing him to try and make him jealous. 

The team is currently unwinding and rehydrating in their locker room after practice, waiting for the team manager to arrive and speak with them as he promised to do later. Sergio Ramos stumbles onto a Savage x Fenty advertisement while relaxing and scrolling through Instagram. He smirks as he realizes that you, Mbappe's girlfriend, are the lady in the picture. Other than Hakimi, you haven't met the team yet because your modeling schedule prevents you from attending his games. Yet, he always shares pictures of the two of you online, so it's clear that he knows you exist. "Watch this," he murmurs, nudging Kimpembe. “Damn Kylian, is this what you'll be seeing when you come home?,” Ramos says while glancing at his phone. Kylian raises his eyebrow in confusion. Ramo flips the phone around so that the other teammates can view in addition to Mbappe. It's a picture of you on a bed wearing red lingerie for the brand. Kimpembe, who was aware of his plan, joined in by saying, "Y/N is fine as ever, why don't you let us meet her?" Verratti throws his arm around Mbappe and pokes his cheek while saying, "It's because he knows I can take her away,"

Mbappe felt a burning anger rise inside him as he listened to his friends hitting on his girl. He could feel their eyes lingering on her body, their words dripping with thinly veiled flirtation. It was enough to make him want to lash out, to tell them to back off and leave her alone. But he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't let his possessiveness show, not in front of his friends. He had to keep up appearances, had to act like it didn't bother him, even though it did.

As he releases Verratti's arms, Kylian makes a phony laugh, saying, "She has a height restriction, you have to be 5 '10." Verratti, who is barely 5 feet 5 inches tall, playfully pouts and walks away.  The boys laugh as Kimpembe says, "6' 0 is better thought," and daps up Ramos as they are the same height. They were all taken aback by Kylian's response, though. Instead of being unhappy, he grinned from ear to ear and began boasting about how gorgeous and wonderful his girlfriend was. Kylian shakes his head and says, "She's so beautiful right? I can't take my eyes off of her that's why she hasn't come around during the games ," maintaining his phony smile. He tried to focus on other things, to distract himself from the uncomfortable feeling that was building inside him. He laughed at their jokes, made small talk, and tried to act as though everything was normal. But it wasn't. He felt like his friends were trying to stake a claim on something that was his, and that made him feel vulnerable. It was one thing to be jealous of a stranger, but when it was someone he knew, someone he trusted, it cut deep.

Once more, Sergio torments him, "You need to bring her next game so she can meet me. I'll show her what a real man is like."

“Trust me. You can't handle her like I can," he remarks, hinting at something sexual. Despite his smugness, Kylian was still secretly jealous of all the attention his girlfriend was receiving. He didn't like the fact that his teammates were constantly talking about her, but he didn't want to let them know that it bothered him. Only his best friend Hakimi noticed that Kylian was feeling a little lowkey jealous. Hakimi knew Kylian so well that he could see the subtle changes in his friend's behavior. 

Hakimi tries to divert the conversation by saying, "You are so focused on Y/N like you did not get nut-megged and scored on by Neymar during practice."  He did so successfully as everyone started to laugh and point at Ramos, some of the players even walked up to him and slapped his head. Mbappe was aware of Hakimi's actions and mentally praised him. Mbappe didn't want to seem possessive or insecure. He wanted to be the confident, easy-going guy that everyone knows him to be. So he kept his feelings to himself and tried to be the bigger person. He knew that his friends didn't mean any harm, that they were just being friendly and playful. But he couldn't help feeling like they were crossing a line.

You have always loved Mbappe's extreme possessiveness toward you. If you had been in the locker room, you would have been impressed by his ability to control his emotions.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

ooohhh glad you're back to write new fics! how about something angsty with kylian mbappé where he loses his fiancé due to him "needing space" over a petty issue and only for him to regret and try to win her heart back

Space • kylian mbappé

Warning: none

Pairing: kylian mbappé x f reader

I'll make a master list when I make more fics

Don't repost my work anywhere or I'll send an evil entity after you

Reblogs and feedback welcome

Request are open but I'm writing slowly

Kylian didn’t know what he was thinking when he told you he needed space. It was now one of the worse mistakes he’s ever made in his life. With you he was the bright bubbly kylian everyone knew and love but without you he was dull and lacked the stamina he used to have. It was like you were the antidote to his life and without you he was nothing.

It all started when kylian got home from a game. PSG lost and he was deeply pissed about it. he could have done so many things differently during the match. When he got home you were there to greet him like you always do when he comes home from a game.

“hi,” you say to him with a soft smile on your lips. Kylian ignored you, walked around you and up the stairs to the bedroom. You were shocked by his actions. You knew he lost the game but he’s never reacted like this before over a lost. Not even when he lost the world cup.

You made your way to the bedroom closet where kylian was. “you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

You looked at him waiting for him to answer. Kylian said nothing as he rummaged through the racks of clothes. You huffed, rolling your eyes at his silent treatment.

“I know you lost your game but it’s not my fault. Don’t give me the silent treatment over your own doing.”

Kylian said nothing, continuing to ignore you. You gave up trying to gain his attention and walked out of the room back downstairs.

A good 30 minutes went by before kylian came downstairs. He had changed into some sweats and a white tee. He said nothing to you as he sat down on the couch and pulled his phone out. You started to grow angry with him.

“Kylian please talk to me.” You walked out of the kitchen to him, desperate to get him to talk.

“I don’t want to talk.” He finally said to you. “why not say that instead of just ignoring me?” you asked with a frustrated tone.

“ you’re always in my face when I walk in I don’t need that ok!”

“well excuse me for wanting to comfort you after a game lost!” You scuffed getting up from the couch to return to the kitchen. You had enough of him. You were ready to ignore him yourself.

“We need a break.”

You stopped in your tracks at kylian words. “what?”

“I said we need a break.” Kylian continued. “I can’t keep doing this with you. You’re constantly nagging me and I don’t like it. We need a break. I don’t know what we are going to do after but we need space.”

Kylian looked up at you. You searched his face hoping to find a hint of sarcasm or something, but no. He was serious as can be.

You swallowed the walnut that formed in your throat. “Ok. Fine if that’s what you want then we’ll do that.”

You walked out of the living room to grab your things. While you were packing your clothes. You let a few tears slip from your eyes. You had a feeling you both were over and it made you sick to the stomach.

You returned back down stairs with your bag on your back. Kylian was sitting on the couch. His nose deep in his phone.

“Ok I’m leaving.”

Kylian looked up at you. He looked at your face seeing your red eyes and tear stained cheek. He knew you were crying, but his stubbornness made him not care.

You turned around ready to leave, but stopped.

“Here.”

You pulled the ring off your finger and threw it to him. The ring kylian gave you 3 months ago. It meant so much to you then, but now it meant nothing to you.

You walked out of the apartment leaving kylian alone. He picked up the ring you threw at him and looked at it. Was this really over? Kylian really fucked up and he knew it.

-

Since I'm mean I'll leave you hanging. Maybe I'll write a part two hehe

[sydluvsky]

kylian mbappé x shy!fem reader hc

(mentions of sex, abuse, body image issues)

- kylian is a fairly extroverted and outgoing person so him with a shy and more reserved reader would be the perfect pair. like yin and yang, sun and moon, ect.

- he would for sure be very protective assuming that the shy reader doesn’t want to be in the public eye. whenever the media comes up to her to ask her questions or take pictures of her kylian randomly out of nowhere appears and shields her from the media.

- i feel like he would love it if she’s the type of shy where she’s quiet around everyone else but super talkative when she’s just with him. his ego loves that he’s probably one of the only people she trusts to be comfortable with.

- if the shy reader has low-self esteem, has gone through traumatic experiences such as any form of abuse he would make it his priority to find out her triggers and try his best to shield her from all of that. he always reassures her how brave and strong she really is. like seriously such a protective guy.

- he’s the older brother in his family and has a capricorn moon too so he generally has a more fatherly, provider role in relationships.

- would give the best advice. not even a hc it’s facts. this guy reads in his spare time and people always make note of how smart he is which would only lead me to assume that he’s someone to go to for advice.

- nicknames such as; “my love/ mon amour”, “darling/chérie”, “baby/ bébé”. anything that reminds the reader how cute she is.

- okay so kylian is a very adorable guy…i mean:

but i think he would prefer it if he’s more so the “sexy/hot” one and she’s the “cute/adorable” kind. but if he’s being a tease he would for sure try and do something cute like randomly start kissing her in a borderline annoying way till’ she finally gives him attention.

- okay date nights are either super, super, super lowkey, like just at home (home in question is a mansion) , ordering pizza and netflix and chilling 🌚. or it’s like he’s flying you out to this super luxurious restaurant and you guy’s are staying the night. he would obviously ask her what she prefers of the two because her comfort matters above all else and then decides.

- i also imagine reader going out and buying a lot outfits and kylian wanting her to do a mini fashion show for him. he would give his honest opinions but to her it sounds like he’s just saying stuff to make her feel better but it’s true! he find her to be perfect in everything. if reader has any body issues you best believe during sex he’s gonna focus on that part and remind her that it’s beautiful.

kind of like that one arabic quote : “if i ever saw a flaw of yours, i’d say my eyes are the flawed ones.”

- before games he would go up to her and ask her for suggestions for the celebrations he could possibly do. fans often tease him about how down bad he is for her, like his eyes sparkle, he blushes when he speaks about her ect.

- also i feel like his teammates for sure know that the reader is like his soft spot so they tease him about how down bad he is for her.

——————————-end of post ——————-

i may do a part 2 if more stuff comes to mind.

thank you so much for reading!

[kawaikylian]

ney coming home from a match all sad and you comfort him

I love people who request fluff 😍

IF YOU LIE DOWN WITH ME•njr

Neymar is broken after the loss of his team

(Davi is around 4-5 years old, reader is the mother)

The moment Brazil was disqualified you stopped to think about how Neymar must feel, his life is you but so is football, loosing is heartbreaking for Neymar.You watched the screen, a close up of Neymar’s teary eyes almost making you cry as well.

He walks into the tunnel waving at everyone, he feels like shit regardless he wants you you couldn’t go now, you had to take Davi with your mother in law, Davi was crying as well and you had to calm him down but thought Nadine would be much helpful, “thank you nadine your so helpful” you said smiling, she’s holding Davi and wiping his teary eyes “where’s Neymar?” I ask, she smiles and points.

Neymar is walking down the tunnel and your eyes glimmer, you immediately run up to him wrapping your arms around his waist pulling him into a embrace, its a strong hug and you don’t pull away for a few seconds, you whisper in his ear “você é meu campeão” I say kissing his neck.(you are my champion)

I can feel him smile and then wrap his arms around my waist hugging me tighter, I pull my head up from his neck and take a glance at him “let’s go home baby and relax, you did everything you could” he tears up a little more “no” he says but you cut him off “no! Baby you did amazing! You tried your best, and to me you are my champion,you did amazing I want you to know that baby” by this time I’m holding his face to mine pulling him into a kiss.

At home

I’m kissing tears off his face and whispering sweet nothings into his ears reminding him he’s amazing and special, he’s ignorant at first but it makes sense he’s sad and broken, but to him my presence is soothing.

The doorbell rings and it’s nadine dropping off Davi, she talks for a little bit but leaves to run errands, “papas! What did you do over grandmas house!” I say picking up Davi cuddling him in my arms “we got ice cream!” He says “I can tell! You have chocolate marks on your face” he giggles, “pai!” He says and I hand him to Neymar.

An hour passes, Neymar, davi, and me are all layed on a bed watching a Disney movie, davi’s fallen asleep and I turn to Neymar “davi fell asleep” we both look at davi smiling seeing the awkward position he was in hugging the giant stitch pillow, I turn to caress Neymar’s face “baby I love you, I just want you to know you did amazing” he hums as a I speak and his breathing pace slows.

I grab Davi and he’s still sound asleep, I place him in the middle of me and Neymar, we both cuddle him until we ourselves are asleep, never finishing the Disney movie.

(Davi cried because he’s just like his dad).

[chaneajoyyy]

RUBEN LOFTUS-CHEEK FANFICTION

" how do you like your breakfast?", getting back together, a trip to the zoo mini series, back on the pitch, messy house, first hospital trip, you are the biggest child, bonjour, creating life, cramps, "don't you see i'm trying?", that important call series (!sisterreader), christmas day baby, snow igloo, mrs. loftus cheek, doctor, pregnant, baby shower, flutter, first date, first steps, late night picnic, spurs supporter, i miss you- (search: ruben loftus cheek, ruben loftus cheek imagine, ruben loftus cheek masterlist)- @footballerimaginess

one night stand (search: ruben loftus-cheek)- @lxndonorris

"my friend, my one true love a ruben loftus cheek imagine..." (search: ruben loftus cheek)- @mavericksicybabe

baby steps, "the early bird gets the worm" (sequel to "baby steps), i onnly have eyes for you (search ruben loftus cheek imagine)- @errythinisblue

issues, how cuddling goes with ruben, better version series, ruben watches his girl get ready for a night out (search: masterlist, ruben loftus cheek)- @555sage

the deal, offside- @holymountdias

we eloped (search: ruben loftus cheek)- @charlottemount

winter: sleigh rides., coming home, little lc "kiss number 40 with ruben loftus cheek please!", winter: family, books, (search: ruben loftus-cheek imagine, ruben loftus cheek)- @footballffbarbiex

call me anything you want- @judeswhore

injury return, couples quiz, lost bet, winning the title, soft, most likely to, family day, can't sleep (masterlist : i-q)- @emwritesfootball

being whipped on holiday, dating, pregnancy (masterlist)- @spotofimagines

love sick series, christmas n chill. ticklish, till the morning (ruben lotus cheek imagine)- @dolce-escrivain-blog

like i'm gonna lose you- @forthecoloredgirl

three is better than two (search: ruben loftus-cheek)- @yungbludz

4am drunk calls (ft. sir lewis hamilton: an appearance of ruben- @royallyprincesslilly

anyone you like- @masonmountsbitch

***PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE A RLC FIC***

[azulera]

Pets at Home

Pairing: Bukayo Saka x Black Reader

Summary: You and Bukayo visit the pet shelter on a whim, and leave with a special plus one.

Notes: Saka my beloved … the most babygirl of all the babygirls. To be honest I was having a rough week, so I wrote this to make myself feel better LOL what is the point of writing if not that? anyways pls enjoy, and let me know what you think🫐

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The spotted tail of the salamander bumped against it’s cage as he chewed, and you pulled on your boyfriend’s sleeve, fascinated. 

“Woah, he almost ate the whole thing in one bite.” 

Bukayo leaned in closer to the glass for a better view. 

“He’s hungry, isn’t he? Do they only feed my man leaves?” 

The little critter started in on his second leaf, and you watched, still mesmerized by how its little body moved and blended into the foliage around him. When the third plant was securely in his belly, you looked up to find that your boyfriend was gone.

There was no sight of him among the other reptile cages, or the nearby aisles of food and pet care products, and you hadn’t noticed his leaving. You thought of calling his phone, but decided to browse around and find your way to him instead. There was one section of the shelter you two hadn’t yet visited where you thought he might be.  

You followed the sound of squeals and barks, and ended up at the rear of the building, where the bigger animals were held. It only took a moment before you saw Bukayo, his red jumper catching your eye, seated in one of the play rooms for customers who wanted to interact with the animals before taking them home. He was cross-legged and enraptured by a tiny chocolate lab who was gently nibbling the tips of his fingers. 

The smile on your face reached your ears as you tapped on the large window. 

Your boyfriend's eyes shined as you caught his attention, and he gestured toward the creature in his hands.

“Hey, I was waiting on you! I think he likes me, you know.” 

The puppy was dark brown with light spots around his eyes and on his belly, and a loose red collar on his neck. It let out happy little yelps as Bukayo cradled him against his chest, and you filled with softness, and questions. 

“Baby, when did you – how did you get in here?” You asked through the glass. 

“Didn’t you get my text? I was trying to find the beta-fish, yeah, but then this one here wouldn’t stop staring at me. So I asked one of the staff if I could play with him – haha, look!”

The puppy had leaped from his arms and now stuck his behind up in the air, wiggling his tail like he was about to pounce. Bukayo curled over in laughter, and gave a small tap to the side of his head. 

“Oh my days, he thinks he’s a big man, innit!” 

The pup barked back, and the two started to “spar”, Bukayo taking little swipes at the animal without ever putting him in any real harm. Already he handled him so carefully, you thought, making sure to avoid his teeth, and their matching red garments were picture-perfect. After another moment, he lifted his little friend with a hand around his belly, and brought him up to his face. 

“Why are you so cute?” Your boyfriend whispered. 

In answer, the puppy licked his tongue curiously against his nose. 

The pure joy bubbling in Bukayo’s responding laugh sent butterflies flapping in your chest. You hadn’t thought it was humanly possible for your boyfriend to get any cuter, but the sight of him cuddled up and giggling with a bite-sized dog made you feel like you would melt into your shoes.

“Baby, come in here!” He suddenly called to you. “Come hold him.” 

You walked into the small room and sat next to him, unable to resist rubbing your knee against his. Once you settled, the puppy in his lap scrambled over to yours, pressing his paws against your chest. 

“Oh, wow, I see how it is, then.” Bukayo complained. 

“Hi buddy,” You laughed and cooed to the little furry face in your hands. He let out little whinnies as he licked you. “Oh, babe, I think he likes me more.” 

“Nah, it’s calm, I get it,” Bukayo spoke to him. “I feel like that about her, too.” 

You smiled at him, scooting closer, and set the dog down to roam again. He went straight into your boyfriend’s arms.  

“I always wanted a dog, you know, since young. My mum weren’t really having that, though.” Bukayo reached to scratch him under the chin. “We should get him.” 

Your eyes widened, unsurprised by his suggestion, but feeling an intense responsibility to be the voice of reason. As adorable as the baby labrador was, today’s trip to the local pet store had been an impromptu one, a fun way for the two of you to spend a free Saturday afternoon. The plan had only been to look, not shop.  

“I don’t know, babe.” You set a placating hand on his knee. “You’re away from home a lot, and I have work, and classes. Who’s going to look after him?” 

“I will! We will!” Bukayo looked at you like the answer was obvious. “We can make a schedule or something, and switch off. And I’ll find a doggy daycare place, don’t they have those? For when we’re too busy.” 

He grabbed your hand that was closest to him, and leaned in to kiss your cheek. 

“Please?” 

When you didn’t respond, he pressed another one, closer to your lips this time. The puppy even leaned over, nuzzling his head against your hand. 

“Pretty please?” 

You sighed.

“A dog is a big commitment, Bukayo. It’s like having a kid.” 

“No, it’s not, you’re gassing it! You can’t buy kids at the store.” 

“We don’t even know if our flat allows dogs?” You countered.  

“They do! I’ve looked it up just 5 minutes ago.” 

Bukayo held his accomplice up to his face again, this time so that both their eyes were trained on you. You realized then that you’d actually enjoy having a pet, but you also wanted time to weigh the pros and cons before making such an important addition to you all’s life. Their matching puppy-dog looks and the excitedly wagging tail just next to your boyfriend’s face threatened to tip the scale. 

“Okay! Okay.” You threw up your hands. “We can get him, but let’s give it a week, okay? Just to think it over, and work out the logistics. Then, if he’s still here, we’ll adopt him.” 

“Yes! Haha!” 

Bukayo kissed you on the lips this time, then lifted your future pet up in the air. You watched the two of them play, already imagining the chaos they would get into at the flat and in the back garden as he grew bigger and faster. It didn’t stop your chest from warming, as you leaned your head on Bukayo’s shoulder. 

“He is pretty cute, isn’t he?” You mused. “What should we name him?” 

The newest member of your household looked up at you both with his big eyes, as if awaiting the answer, too. Bukayo reached down to scratch his head before he turned to you, the corners of his mouth already lifting. 

“Gunner.”

[she-lives-in-her-dreams]

Swipe City Chapter 5:Dating with a Twist

Disclaimer: I do not know any celebrities in this story.  I’ve been super sick for a week; thus, this is not proofread. I’m not from nor have been to London; so, I apologize if I use American terms when writing a Brit character. 

Please let me know if you guys have any interest in this story continuing. I’m not receiving a lot of feedback and feel like this story is a bit of a flop. 

@mountpulisic​ @mllynne​ @luminous-99​ @alwaysclassyeagle

       Christian is nervous–no, he is beyond nervous. A level of nervousness that he doesn’t know how to describe in English nor in German.  It’s Wednesday and in exactly  30 minutes, he is going to be sitting in a small, local  pub with Y/N for a lunch date. He is mentally trying to prepare  himself for any reaction she may have to his identity. 

        In a flat across West London, Y/N is nervously fixing her makeup and trying not to vomit. It’s out of character for her to go on a date with man she has never videochatted with much less never even seen pictures of.  The thought runs through her mind to cancel the date and ask for a videochat before rescheduling it.  The notion disappears as quickly as it appeared–the move to London had been one she promised herself would be about adventures and a fresh start. A clean slate she knows has to include some risks that are out of her comfort zone. Besides, if Chris–hopefully that is his real name– is a serial killer, she did activate her location on her phone, has a secret code arranged with her friends back home, and an agreed upon check-in time. 

    The 30 minutes past quickly for both Christian and Y/N, and before either knows it the pub  is in their views.  Y/N arrives first–always one for arriving early to avoid having to approach her dates.  She chooses a corner high-top table and quickly texts Chris where she is seated. The pub is not busy at all which makes her sigh in relief and give thanks that Chris asked for a lunch date rather than a dinner when the evening crowd would surely have overwhelmed her senses with all the noise. 

    Christian arrives at the pub exactly 5 minutes before the arranged time. He checks his phone and finds a missed text from Y/N with information about their seating arrangement. Christian clutches the bouquet of tulips tightly as he pulls the pub’s entrance door. His coffee colored eyes search the corner high-top tables for the lavender sweater y/n said she would be wearing. 

     The instant they land on the woman in the corner’s lavender sweater, his eyes still. Her head is tilted down looking at her phone. Before Christian can even process what is happening, his feet have moved him across the pub to standing in front of y/n. He clears his throat to get her attention and when her eyes lift to meet his own, Christian feels his breath catch. He has always believed that no matter the color of someone’s eyes, you could tell a lot about the person just by looking into their eyes ; and in this moment, all Christian can tell about y/n from her eyes is that he never wants to stop looking into them. 

     Y/N hears the clearing of the throat and looks up. In front of her is an absolutely breath-taking man. His boyishly handsome face with the shy smile and dimple cause her heart to race. For a second, there are no words spoken.  Christian clears his throat again and forces himself to speak. 

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Chris.” The shy smile never leaving his face. 

Y/N stands to greet him but hesitates awkwardly. Does she give him a handshake? A hug? What is the tradition for dates now? God, she hates dating. 

Christian makes the decision for her as she speaks her name by moving closer and opening his arms for a gentle hug. After several phone conversations and hours of texts, he feels that he knows y/n and a hug is the only acceptable greeting for someone he already feels safe with. 

Though the hug is short, it is warm and soothing to both. As the two separate, both recognize the noticeable loss of warmth and comfort. 

“It’s really great to meet you in person. I hope you don’t mind, but I remembered you saying you loved these; so, I picked these up for you.”  Christian says shyly as he hands y/n the flowers. Her smile widens– she mentioned these flowers during their second conversation when he was trying to figure out which flowers to send his mother for her birthday. 

“Wow, Chris! That is so thoughtful of you.”  Y/N tries not to gasp–a man significantly younger than her put more effort into their first date than any other man had during a committed relationship. 

As the date progresses, Christian realizes the pub is becoming busier. He tries not to panic and attempts to calm himself by remembering  he doesn’t get recognized as much as Mason or Reece especially when he is out without them. It’s not that he wants to lie to Y/N, he just knows he wants to tell her in his own nonpublic way. 

    Christian feels a sense of relief when it is not until y/n is in the restroom that he is approached by an older man asking for an autograph and picture for his young grandson. The interaction is swift and when the man sees y/n approaching the table again, he thanks Christian, winks at him, and promptly walks away. Christian thanks his God for this small miracle.

“It’s getting to be a bit late. Unfortunately, I need to go back to work.” Y/N says with a sigh. It was the one part of a lunch date that had made her hesitate– she had to come to the date in her professional clothing and was limited to a few hours before she would need to return. 

  Christian smiles a bit sadly. “I hate that it has to end so quickly, but I understand not everyone is off today like me.”  

     After beckoning the waiter over and handing him his card to pay for their date, Christian swallows the lump forming in his throat. “I had a really great time and would like to see you again, if you are open to it.” 

Y/N feels the heat in her face. “I would love to see you again.” 

    After receiving his card and helping y/n to put her jacket on, Christian escorts Y/N  out into the chilly weather to catch her waiting  taxi.  Already anticipating her next move, Christian rushes around Y/N to open the taxi’s door and help her into it. 

    Feeling somewhat empowered by the man’s consistent gentlemanly ways, Y/N leans over and presses a soft kiss to Christian’s cheek as she enters the taxi.

“Let me know when you are available.” She whispers after thanking him again for the date. 

     As the taxi pulls away, Christian touching his kissed cheek, a man steps into his peripheral vision.  The man begins to speak causing Christian to turn his head in the gentleman’s direction.

“Son, you have the same look on your face that I had when I met future wife, when my son-in-law looks at my daughter, and when my son looks at his wife. I hope it works out for you because I would love to say I witnessed the first date of Christian Pulisic and his wife.” 

     Quickly recognizing the man as the guy from the bar who asked for the autograph and photo, Christian responds nervously. 

“She is great, but was it really that awkward and obvious it was a first date?” 

     The grandfatherly man laughs. “You are standing in the cold holding your cheek from a little peck. I think that makes it obvious. Good luck on Sunday, Pulisic. I’ll be cheering for you in more than one way!” The man continues to laugh as he walks away leaving Christian with a glowing red face. 

Christian touches his kissed cheek again and thinks how much like a romcom this is turning out to be. 

[agerzionn]

own advertising for my first ever wattpad book :)

(i’m sorry if its bad written 😭 as i already said, this is my first wattpad book )

[thesoulsportz]

[moonystoes]

Gift for you

Elisa De Almeida x reader

A/n: this is my first ever writing, so feedback and criticism is needed!! Thank you for everyone who kept pushing me to do this (@yunjinloser and @oceangalore), I wrote this in 50 minutes in class so if there are any grammatical/spelling mistakes pleaseee tell me because it will haunt me forever...also this is basically nothing so sorry if you're disappointed lmfao I'm just practicing my writing, it is one of my 2024 goals 🫶💞

Wc: 506

“Babe? Are you here?” You called from the doorway of her apartment, hands heavy from the gifts you bought for her. The big bouquet of cream-white flowers was covering your face as you slowly walked around her house to the living room where she lays all the time after training.

You knew she was stressed out about the next champions league match and disappointed at her mistake in the previous match where she accidentally made a poor pass that ended in a 1-1 tie. So you wanted to give her something to make her feel better, since talking to her obviously didn't work.

When you walked into the living room, you saw she was scrolling on her phone while laying on her L-couch. When she looked up, her jaw dropped. “what! Is this for me?” She turns off the phone and throws it away from her to the other couch. She hurried to your side, grabbing what's in your hands.

“Yeah, you've been really tough on yourself and I know you deserve a little gift,” your now free hand softly caresses her back, her gaping face was adorable, making you wish you had filmed this. She rushes through the gifts; the football boots (you made sure they were Nike), the macaroons, and lastly, she takes the big bouquet and stares at it with watery eyes. “They're not real, I thought fake ones would last forever but real ones die after a week…” You quickly stammered, worried if she will get offended.

But her soft glance at you calmed you down. “It's perfect, I can put it right there near the TV without worrying about it turning brown,” She grabs the bouquet and rests it under the TV, the white color fits in with the rest of her furniture. “lay down on the couch please.” Her soft voice, her hands trying to perfect the position of the flowers. You immediately laid on the couch, slightly confused on why she would say that right now.

After a few seconds of her frustratingly moving the flowers, she stood up and smiled brightly at you, she crawled over you and slowly pressed her body on yours. She leaned over and softly pecked your lips, then resting her head on your chest.

You wrapped your arms over her shoulders and hair, brushing her hair away from her forehead and softly kissed her scalp. She raised her face and quickly asked, “can you sleep here? I will drive you to your apartment in the morning for your work.” She glanced at you with hopeful eyes, trying to make a ‘baby face’ to convince you.

You rolled your eyes, feeling defeated. “Okay, I'll stay but don't get frustrated when I wake you up at 6.” She quickly sits up and kisses you. She rests her head on your chest again, her arms tightening around your waist. You smiled at her clinginess when your eyes trail over her pink blushed cheeks, thanking God or whoever it may be for sending you the prettiest gift ever.

[footballfanficwriter]

1st to many

Summary:where Jude wins his first Champions league trophy

The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening, but all I could focus on was the man in the white home kit moving effortlessly across the pitch. Jude. My husband. The love of my life. Our son, Louis, was bouncing excitedly beside me, his little hands clutching the edges of his seat as he watched his father in awe. As nerve-wracking as he was the day before, I could see his determination and focus now.

"Mommy, look at Daddy! He's so fast!" Louis exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration.

I smiled down at him, ruffling his curly hair. "Yes, sweetheart. Daddy's amazing, isn't he?"

The match was intense, a true nail-biter. Real Madrid were fighting for every inch of the field, and it seemed like the entire stadium held its breath each time the ball neared the goal. My heart pounded with every pass, every tackle, and every shot. Then, in the 67th minute, it happened. A corner kick delivered by Toni Kroos in the air headed the ball and sent the it  sailing into the net. The stadium erupted into cheers, and I found myself screaming along with them, tears of joy streaming down my face at the end of the game it was 0-2 and Madrid had won

"They did it, Louis! They won!" I shouted, scooping him into my arms and spinning him around.

Louis giggled, his excitement matching mine. "Daddy's the best!"

As the final whistle blew, confirming their victory, the players collapsed onto the field, exhausted but triumphant. The commentator's voice echoed through the stadium, announcing the team's first Champions League win in 2 years. The player's names were chanted by thousands of fans, but Jude's  eyes searched the stands until they found us. He gave a little wave, and I blew him a kiss, mouthing the words, "I'm so proud of you."

After a few minutes of celebration on the pitch, Jude was called for a short post-match interview. He stood there, still catching his breath, as the interviewer began.

"Jude, congratulations on your incredible win! How are you feeling right now?"

"Thank you so much. Honestly, it's hard to put into words. This victory means the world to me. The adrenaline is still pumping, and I'm just overwhelmed with joy and gratitude."

"You've mentioned before that your family's support means everything to you. Can you tell us more about that?"

"Absolutely. My wife and our son, Louis, they're my rock. They've been with me every step of the way, cheering me on through the highs and lows. I couldn't have achieved this without them."

"And how does it feel to have them here with you tonight?"

"It's everything. Knowing they're in the stands, supporting me, it gives me that extra boost of motivation. Louis's face lights up when he sees me on the pitch, and my wife, she's my anchor. I'm just so grateful to have them by my side."

"You've certainly made a lot of people proud tonight. Any final words?"

"I just want to thank everyone who's supported me along this journey, especially my family. This win is as much theirs as it is mine. And to Y/n , I love you more than words can express. Thank you for being my rock, my everything."

"Any plans for the rest of the evening?"

"Just soaking it all in, really. I'm just happy. Now, I have to go and find my wife and son. They're waiting for me, and I can't wait to celebrate with them."

With that, Jude's eyes sparkled with excitement, and he bid the interviewer farewell before quickly making his way to the stands, where Louis and I were eagerly waiting for him.

"You did it, Daddy!" Louis squealed, wrapping his arms around Jude's neck.

Jude laughed, pulling him close. "We did it, little man. We did it."

Then he turned to me, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. He reached out and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I couldn't have done it without you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I stroked his back, feeling his body tremble with relief and happiness. "I'm so proud of you, Jude. You've worked so hard for this."

He hugged me tighter, burying his face in my shoulder. "Don't let go," he murmured. "I just want to take this moment in."

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as the world celebrated around us. As he pulled back slightly, I noticed the goosebumps on his arms. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, concerned. "You can take my jacket."

He shook his head, a wide smile on his face. "No, it's fine. The adrenaline is keeping me warm. I'm okay."

We laughed, and I kissed him softly, feeling the warmth of his lips. He took my hand, and together we walked onto the field, Louis perched happily on Jude's shoulders. The stadium was a whirlwind of celebration, with fans cheering, confetti falling, and cameras flashing. We joined Jude's teammates and their families, sharing hugs and congratulations. Louis quickly found some of the other children and started playing, their laughter ringing out across the field.

"Can you believe this?" Jude asked, his voice filled with wonder as he watched Louis and the other kids running around, pretending to be their football heroes.

I smiled, squeezing his hand. "It's surreal. I'm so happy for you, Jude. You've achieved your dream."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "And I couldn't have done it without you. Your support, your love—it means everything to me."

We continued our tour, mingling with the other players and their wives. When Toni came over with his wife, and their three children.

"Congratulations, Jude!" Toni said, clapping Jude on the back. "You were incredible out there."

"Thanks, mate," Jude replied, smiling broadly. "We all were. It was a team effort, just sad to see you go man.

"I know, but my time has come it's time for me to make room for the next Generation, I need to make room for people like you"

Jude smiled at Toni and they embraced eachother when all of a sudden

Toni's  hugged me, her eyes shining. "How are you holding up? That was an intense match!"

I laughed, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through me. "I'm just so relieved it's over and that they won! It's like a dream come true."

Our conversation was interrupted by Louis running over, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Mommy, Daddy, look! I'm playing with the big kids!"

Jude laughed, lifting him up. "You're doing great, buddy. One day, you might be out here playing for real."

Louis's eyes sparkled. "Really, Daddy? You think I can?"

"Of course, I do," Jude said, ruffling his hair. "With hard work and determination, you can do anything."

As we walked around the pitch, we took photos and videos to capture every precious moment. Jude and I posed with the trophy, Louis standing proudly between us, his tiny hands resting on the gleaming cup.

"This is for the memories," Jude said, his voice soft and full of emotion as he snapped a selfie of us.

"For the memories," I echoed, my heart swelling with love and pride.

Later, we joined the other families in a group photo, everyone beaming with joy. The children were all gathered in front, their smiles bright and infectious. It was a beautiful scene, one that embodied the spirit of teamwork, dedication, and love.

As the celebrations slowly wound down, we found a quiet moment to sit together on the grass, watching Louis play nearby with the other kids.

"Can you believe this?" Jude asked, his voice filled with wonder. "We did it."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth and strength. "Yes, we did. And I couldn't be happier."

Jude wrapped his arm around me, holding me close. "This is just the beginning," he said. "With you and Louis by my side, I feel like I can achieve anything."

I smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "We'll always be here for you, Jude. No matter what."

As we sat there, surrounded by the remnants of celebration and the echoes of cheers, I knew that this moment would be etched in our hearts forever. It was the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifice, and unwavering support. And it was a testament to the power of love and family.

Jude glanced down at his phone, which had been buzzing with messages of congratulations. He smiled and took a quick selfie of us, capturing our joy and love in that perfect moment. "For the memories," he said, showing me the photo.

I nodded, my heart swelling with love. "For the memories," I echoed.

As the night drew to a close, we gathered our things and made our way off the pitch. Louis was half-asleep in Jude's arms, worn out from all the excitement. We walked hand-in-hand, leaving the stadium behind but carrying the night's magic with us.

In the car, Jude looked back at the stadium one last time, a look of fulfillment and determination on his face. "This is just the beginning," he repeated, more to himself than to me.

I squeezed his hand, feeling the strength of our bond and the promise of our future. "And we'll be with you every step of the way."

As we drove home, the city lights shining brightly around us, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. Jude had achieved his dream, and in doing so, he had shown us all the true power of perseverance, love, and family.

When we arrived home, Louis was sound asleep in Jude's arms. Jude carried him upstairs and gently placed him in his bed, tucking him in with a kiss on his forehead. I stood in the doorway, watching this tender moment, my heart swelling with love.

"You really are an amazing father," I whispered as Jude joined me, closing Louis's door softly.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "And you're an amazing mother and wife. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

We walked to our bedroom, the excitement of the day slowly giving way to a peaceful calm. As we got ready for bed, Jude turned to me, his eyes filled with a deep, abiding love.

Jude and I lie in bed, still buzzing from the excitement of the day's events. I open my phone and scroll through social media, reading the countless messages of congratulations and admiration for Jude and our family. People are buzzing about how Jude celebrated his first Champions League victory with his family, highlighting his heartfelt words about us in the interview.

I read some of the headlines aloud to Jude:

“Jude Bellingham’s Heartwarming Tribute to His Family After Champions League Win”

“Jude Bellingham Celebrates Victory with Wife and Son – Fans Are Melting!”

“Champions League Hero: Jude Bellingham’s Emotional Speech on Family and Success”

“Jude Bellingham’s Adorable Celebration with His Wife and Son Captivates Fans”

“Jude Bellingham Dedicates Champions League Win to His Loving Family”

Switching to Instagram, I see a flood of comments under the photos and videos we posted:

jobebellingham: You guys are such an amazing family! So happy for you! 🥰

toby: What a beautiful moment! You and Jude are an inspiration. ❤️

noah: This is what football is all about. Much love to you and your family! 💪🏽👏🏽

vinijr: Seeing the love between you guys is incredible. Congrats! 🙌🏽✨

camavinga: Your support for Jude is everything. Proud of you all! 💖🙌🏽

lukamodric10: Family goals right here. Enjoy this moment! 🏆💫

toni.kr8s: Such a beautiful family. Well deserved win! 😊🙌🏽

rodrygogoes: So much love in these photos. Congratulations! ❤️🔥

toniruediger: Amazing to see you guys so happy. Well done! 👏🏽👏🏽

dani.carvajal2: What a night! Beautiful family moments. Congrats! 🎉💪🏽

ferland_mendy: So happy for you guys! Enjoy the victory! ⚽❤️

nachofi1990: Family and football, the perfect combination. Congrats! 👏🏽😊

alaba_david: Beautiful to see you all so happy. Big congrats! 🌟🙌🏽

davidluiz_4: This is what dreams are made of! Congrats to you all! 🌟❤️

sergioramos: Family first, always. Proud of you, brother! 💪🏼👨‍👩‍👦‍👦

karimbenzema: Seeing you celebrate with your family warms my heart. Congrats, Jude! 🙌🏽💯

raphaelvarane: Beautiful family moments. Congratulations on the win, Jude! 🎉🏆

edenhazard: You're an inspiration, Jude. Congratulations to you and your lovely family! 🌟💖

thibautcourtois: Enjoy these special moments with your loved ones, Jude. You deserve it! 🥂👏🏼

nachofernandez: Family is everything. Congrats on the win, mate! 🙌🏼👨‍👩‍👦

scoalarcon: Seeing you celebrate with your family is priceless. Well done, Jude! 🎉👨‍👩‍👦

federicovalverde: Family time is the best time. Congrats, Jude! 🥳👨‍👩‍👦

eder_militao: Cherish these moments forever, Jude. Congrats 🏆💖

vasquez91: You guys are the definition of #FamilyGoals. Congrats, Jude! 🎉💑

I turn to Jude, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Can you believe this?" I say, my voice filled with wonder.

Jude wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. "I can't believe any of this," he says, his voice soft with awe. "But I know one thing for sure—I couldn't have asked for a better team to share it with."

I snuggle closer to him, feeling his warmth enveloping me and he kisses my forehead. In this moment, surrounded by love and joy, I know that no matter what the future holds, we'll always have each other.

[wavypotatochips]

Hey I love your imagines sm and I was wondering could you do a jealous mbappe x reader so like kylian brings the reader (his girlfriend) to go meet the psg team and neymar is flirting with her and kylian gets really mad? Thank you

��𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙈𝙗𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 2k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: NOT YOU MAKING ME WRITE ABOUT MY POOKIE BEING THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY <//3 haha jkjk ( NeyNey is my babygorl tho) Im glad you like my imagines, thank you so much for the compliment !!! And as always, thank you so much for requesting & I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

[ TRANSLATOR USED SO DIRECT TRANSLATION MAY BE WRONG]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads MAY mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

You've been dating Kylian for a few months now, and you couldn't be happier. Spending time with him always brings you joy, and he never fails to be sweet and attentive to your needs. Tonight, you have a special event planned - you're going to meet the PSG team for the first time, and understandably, you're feeling a little nervous. It's important to you to make a good impression on Kylian's friends, who are like a second family to him. 

The event is a party hosted by one of his teammates, and you've dressed to impress. You're wearing a black two-piece set, which fits you perfectly and accentuates your curves in all the right places. Your black crop top showcases your breasts, while your 90s low-rise Ruched Flare Legging Pants flatter your figure and allow your belly piercing to peek through. To complete the look, you've chosen a pair of stylish wedge heels. You've let your hair fall naturally, and you've applied smokey eye makeup to match your outfit, now feeling way more confident and ready to make a great impression on Kylian's friends. As you approach the front door and put on your earrings, you call out to Kylian, "Babe, I'm ready!" When you arrive, you see that he's already waiting for you, with a wide smile on his face. "You look absolutely gorgeous, my love," he says, wrapping his arms around you and giving your butt a playful squeeze. He suggests that it might be okay to be a little late, with a wink and a hint of something more suggestive. You laugh and playfully slap his chest, "Kylian, no! Let's go!" He pouts, but eventually relents with a playful "Okayyyy." You smile and give him a kiss on the lips, to which he eagerly responds. He opens the door for you, and the two of you step out together.

As you mingle at the party, you find yourself having a surprisingly good time. You've met and chatted with most of Kylian's teammates, except for  Neymar Jr. Although you're familiar with him from the headlines, you haven't had a chance to formally introduce yourself yet. Besides that, you've clicked instantly with a few of the other WAGS and have been dancing and enjoying the fantastic vibes all around. It's turning out to be a fantastic night. You are conversing with one of the WAGS and enjoying your drink when you feel a hand on your waist unexpectedly. When you look around, Kylian is standing behind you.

"Hey, babe," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss.

"Hey," you reply, smiling up at him.

As you turn back to your newly founded friend, you notice someone else looking at you. It's one of Kylian's teammates, Neymar, and he's giving you a flirty smile. You make an effort not to analyze his glance too much because you suspect he may be gazing somewhere else. You try to ignore him and focus on your conversation, but you can feel Neymar's eyes on you. Neymar did not see the kiss you and Kylian shared, so in his eyes you are a free woman. You glance over at Kylian, who is now standing beside you, and you can see that he's noticed Neymar's attention.

"Hey, Neymar," Kylian says, his voice cold. "What's up?"

"Nothing, man," Neymar replies, still grinning at you. "Just admiring this gorgeous lady here," he winks at you, “What's your name?”

Kylian's grip on your waist tightens, and you can feel his body tensing up. "She's not just any girl, Neymar," he says, his tone low and menacing. "Ela é minha namorada. Então observe-se (She's my girlfriend. So watch yourself)."

Neymar raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, I didn't know.. just relax."

Kylian glares at him for a few more seconds before finally letting go of your waist. You can feel his anger radiating off of him, and you're not sure how to calm him down.

"Let's go outside for a bit," he says, taking your hand and leading you towards the door.

Once you're outside, Kylian turns to you, his expression softening a bit. "I'm sorry about that, babe," he says, his voice apologetic. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry."

"It's okay," you reply, trying to reassure him. "I know you just care about me."

"I do," he says, pulling you into a hug. "I just don't like other guys looking at you like that. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it." Kylian regards you as his first love, despite the fact that he has had a few women prior to you. He loves you more than words can express, which explains why he occasionally exhibits some possessive behavior.

You smile up at him, feeling a warm feeling spread through your chest. You know that Kylian can be a bit possessive, but you also know that he cares about you deeply.

As the night goes on, you and Kylian continue to have a good time, dancing and laughing with your friends. But every now and then, you catch him glancing over at Neymar, his jaw clenched tight.

Eventually, Kylian excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and you're left standing by the bar with some of the other WAGS. You are admiring the bar and remarking on how nice it is to have a home bar. That's when Neymar comes over to you.

"Hey, sorry about before," he says, his tone contrite. "I didn't mean to upset Kylian like that."

"It's fine," you reply, trying to be polite. "He just gets a bit jealous sometimes," you let out a small laugh. 

Neymar nods. "Yeah, I can tell. But, you know, he doesn't own you or anything. You're free to do what you want."

You frown at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I know that," you say

Neymar leans in a bit closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I'm just saying," he says, his voice low and suggestive. "If you ever want to have some fun on the side, I'm here for you."

You take a step back, feeling a surge of anger and disgust. "Excuse me?" you say, your voice sharp.

"I mean it," Neymar says, his grin widening. "I can show you a good time. Better than Kylian ever could."

You feel your face flush with anger, and you're about to say something when you hear a voice behind you.

"Get your hands off of her," Kylian growls.

You turn to see Kylian standing there, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes are dark with anger, and you can see the muscles in his jaw working.

Neymar backs away from you, holding up his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, I was just joking around."

Kylian takes a step forward, bringing his face just inches away from Neymar's. "Do you think it's funny to hit on my girlfriend?" he says in a low, dangerous voice. Neymar responds defiantly, "Oh yeah? And what if I do? Que porra você vai fazer sobre isso? (The fuck are you gonna do about it?)" You feel a wave of fear and tension wash over you, knowing that things could turn ugly fast - and to make matters worse, they're teammates. Both of them have been drinking, which has only heightened their anger levels, but you're hoping that things won't escalate any further.

Quickly, you nudge some of the other WAGS for help, and they promptly move to help you push in between the boys. Both Kylian and Neymar back away from each other without trying to push any of you aside, which is a relief. As Kylian steps back, his hands still clenched into fists, he calls out, "Apenas dê o fora daqui (Just get the fuck out of here)," his voice cold and unforgiving. The loud music drowns out anything Neymar might have been saying as he walks away, and you hope that he didn't hear what Kylian said or else he might have come back looking for a fight. Nevertheless, you're relieved that the situation has been diffused without any physical altercations.

"Are you okay?" Kylian says, turning to you and taking your hand. 

You nod, feeling a bit shaken. "Yeah," you say, your voice a bit unsteady. "Thanks for coming to my rescue." In theory, he did save you when Neymar started to bother you, so you're not sure whether to lecture him or not. You simply decide that thanking him is best.

Kylian pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against his chest. "I'll always protect you," he says, his voice low and reassuring. "No matter what."

You feel a wave of gratitude and love for Kylian, knowing that he truly cares about you. But at the same time, you can't help but wonder if his possessiveness  feels a bit suffocating. When you are around, you don't want others to be on edge.

As the night wears on, Kylian stays close to you, his eyes constantly scanning the room. You try to let loose and have fun with the other WAGS, but it's difficult to fully enjoy yourself knowing that Kylian needs constant reassurance. You can't help but feel like you're missing out on the fun as you focus on keeping Kylian calm and avoiding any further conflicts.

Finally, as the party begins to wind down, Kylian pulls you aside.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he says, his voice soft. "I know I can get a bit jealous sometimes."

"It's okay" you say,  giving him a small smile. "I appreciate that you care about me, but I don't think threatening people is the best way to handle situations like that. While I'm grateful you came to my aid, it's important to remember that you're a public figure and your actions have consequences. I don't want to see you get into trouble because of me."

Kylian sighs, nodding in agreement. "You're right. Sometimes I forget that my actions have a bigger impact than just the immediate moment. I'm sorry for putting you in a difficult position, my love." He sounds regretful because he knew that before the mayhem erupted, you were having fun.

You reach out and gently caress his cheek to reassure him, "Thanks for understanding where I'm coming from….But of course, thank you for sticking up for me… and I still did have a lot of fun tonight."

Kylian grins, "Of course, anything for you. And just so you know, I'll always stand up for you. You're not just some girl to me, you're my girlfriend and I want to protect you."

You chuckle, "I know that. And I appreciate it. But let's try to avoid unnecessary confrontations in the future, okay?"

"Okay," Kylian agrees. "I promise to be more mindful of my actions if people try to talk to my soon-to-be-wife.”

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm, “What am I going to do with you Kylian?”

“I don't know, maybe kiss me?,” he says in a playful tone causing you to let out a small laugh.

You lean in to give him a quick kiss. "I love you, Kylian."

"I love you more," he replies, gazing at you with adoration. "And I'll always strive to be the best partner I can be."

You could see Kylian's mood lighten up as he realized that everything was going to be okay. 

You two walked back into the party and only stayed for an extra hour-or so before leaving. As you two are walking up to your house, Kylian leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, "Thank you for being patient with me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

You smile, feeling grateful for the amazing man by your side. "You don't have to make it up to me, Ky. I just want you to be happy."

He squeezes your hand, his eyes shining with affection. "I am happy, because I have you."

Kylian stops and faces you as you both approach the front entrance of the house.

He leans in and kisses you, his lips warm and tender against yours. "You are my world, Y/N I love you so so much,” he murmurs before sighing, “What am I going to do with you?" 

You smile cheekily, “ I don't know, maybe kiss me?,” you say, mimicking him from earlier.

He smiles, nods, "Glady," and presses his lips once more against yours.

Love and affection filled the air as you both kissed each other, and you both realized that no matter what the future contained, the only thing that mattered was that you had each other.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

�� summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[itneverendshere]

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smut! paring: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho. 

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself. 

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him. 

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe. 

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again. 

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat. 

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it. 

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath. 

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj. 

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“ 

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough. 

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure. 

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

 he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic. 

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. 

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you. 

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life. 

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. 

“condom?” 

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. 

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?” 

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping. 

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"