#soccer one shots

[suni-writings]

Stop hating me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it

“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”

“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.

Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.

“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?

“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”

As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.

“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”

Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.

“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”

Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.

“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”

She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.

“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”

She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.

“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”

She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.

She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.

“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”

“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.

“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.

“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.

Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.

“Who do you think, princess?”

After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.

The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”

Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.

“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”

She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.

“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.

“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.

Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.

“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.

“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.

His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.

“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”

She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.

And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?

He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.

“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”

When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.

After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.

As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.

Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.

Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.

He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.

“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”

“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.

He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.

When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.

“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.

“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”

It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.

“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”

[enwoso]

how convenient | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist | if you haven’t already i would recommend reading first heartbreak to get up to speed

the sidelines of the pitch buzzed with the usual saturday morning chaos — parent's chatting, children chasing stray footballs as whistles blowed too often and not enough. but leah had stood still, arms folded across her chest. her eyes locked on the man across the field.

harrison.

it was almost poetic, convenient if you will, even if it didn't make her stomach twist that the next time she saw him would be here.

at your football game. the one he was meant to show up for last time. the one he'd promised. the one he then conveniently forgot.

leah could still hear alessia's voice over the phone, quiet and tired as she'd spent the entire evening calming you down as the tried her best to stay calm over the phone as she retold the story to leah. 'she asked me if he even loved her, le.'

and that was it. that was the line.

you deserved a hell of a lot better than a broken promise with whiskey on its breath.

so leah waited, watching your entire game. you playing with that familiar fierce focus which had been missing the previous week as your blonde curls bounced as you ran for the ball. but something in your movement lacked the usual sparkle — it hadn't properly returned since that weekend.

when harrison finally wandered to the edge of the field, the game now finished. he’d been there since the 14th minute — leah had been watching.

a coffee cup in one of his hands, phone in the other, looking more like he'd stumbled out of bed then just stepped into fatherhood afterwards.

leah didn't hesitate after making sure that both alessia and you were occupied and distracted. you running circles with your teammates as alessia spoke to some of their parents, engrossed in a deep conversation. so you both wouldn't see what leah was up to.

"didn't think you had it in you to show up this time," she said, quiet but cutting sharp.

harrison blinked, startled, then smirked faintly, "leah. thought i might run into you today."

"lucky me."

he sipped his coffee looking out to the field, avoiding eye contact with leah. "so i take it less has sent you over here to lecture me then?"

"no, she doesn't even know i'm over here talking to you. i'm just here to watch the kid, who actually showed up."

his jaw twitched slightly, "look, i know i messed up. i didn't mean to forget - i had a lot going on that day."

leah raising an eyebrow humming slightly at his well, pathetic words, "enough going on that you forget your own daughters name?"

he flinched, taking another sip from his coffee. a beat of silence falling over the two as they both looked over the field, arms leaning against the barrier.

"i said i was hungover. i didn't mean it. i was half asleep, and—"

"—and yet you still found time to answer a phone you didn't remember promising her on."

there was another beat of silence, for a second too long, and then his face hardened.

"you don't know what it's like," he muttered, jaw clenched. "you don't know me, you don't know what i've got going on. what we had, how hard it was. you think because you're playing happy families with my ex and my kid, you know everything?"

leah took one step closer, her voice dropping into steel. "i know enough."

he just scoffed, amused almost as a smirk appeared on his face. "no, mate you know alessia's version. that's it."

"no, mate. i know a hell of a lot more than you." that stopped him in his tracks.

"i know how before she goes to bed she has to say goodnight to all of her teddy’s so that they don’t go to sleep sad. i know how she still draws you in every picture she makes cause she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. i know how hard alessia fights not to to bad-mouth you in front of her - no matter how angry she is with you. i know what it looks like when a little girl asks if her dad really loves her—and means it."

harrison looked away. he didn't say anything. he didn't have anything to defend him self with.

"you think this is about you and alessia? this isn't about who's in her bed now." leah added her voice quieter now, but somehow more dangerous. "it's not. it's about that little girl you keep letting down. and if you're not going to be a dad and a proper one at that then don't expect the world to wait while you try and figure out how."

for a moment, the only sound was the distant sound of children giggling and parents chatting as the field started to get less busier of people, the morning of football starting to slow down.

then—

"she's my daughter" harrison said, but it didn't sound as strong as convincing as he wanted it to.

"your right she is, so start fucking acting like it" leah replied, snappy and sharp as if she had a response to every thing he said. "because she deserves better and she not going to keep giving you pieces of herself for you to just drop every time it's convenient for you."

leah turned without waiting for a reply, she didn't want to listen to his pathetic voice any longer. she'd heard enough and said what she wanted to say.

watching as the group of parents surrounding alessia's was getting smaller, as she jogged to catch up with you two. alessia looked over her shoulder, sensing leah's presence. "you all good?"

leah reached for alessia's hand, slipping her fingers effortlessly between hers with ease, "yeah, just had something to take care of."

alessia raised an eyebrow, curious but also didn't push. instead making a mental note to ask later on. "that right?"

"yep, all sorted though. don't worry, love"

you rushed back to leah and alessia having said goodbye to your friends, as you were already mid-sentence. "did you see when i almost scored mama? i kicked it so hard!"

leah grinned, the tension easing from her shoulders just at the sound of your voice as she ruffled your hair, "i saw, you were brilliant today, you little superstar!"

and as the three of them walked off the field, you chattering away, alessia leaning in close as leah anchored them to her side — harrison being left stood alone in his own thoughts by the sideline .

watching what it looked like when someone actually showed up.

[gpcwsl]

Could you do a Leah Williamson one where reader is a chef and has restaurant establishments worldwide and just located one in England a couple months ago and the England girls are a having a camp in London and since everyone is all together for camp they want to celebrate with a fancy dinner and they start discussing restaurants and readers restaurant is put out there, but some of the girls disagree because they tried to eat there but it was always booked up, so when Leah gets home she talks to reader and gets them a table, so Leah texts the team gc and say dress fancy tomorrow night and the location of the restaurant and the gc starts blowing, but she ignores it, and when they all go to the restaurant and ask questions and Leah’s like she has connections, but come to find out that Leah is dating reader then reader sits down beside Leah and the team gets to know her a little and when they go to pay reader says it’s already taken care of.

Warnings: a kiss?

Leah Williamson x Chef!Reader

- Dress fancy -

MasterList

Leah Williamson kicked her boots off at the door, the satisfying thud against the floor signaling the end of another long day. Training had been intense, but it wasn’t the drills or tactics replaying in her mind—it was the chaotic group chat blowing up her phone during the drive home.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, scrolling through dozens of messages.

Tooney: “We should go to that new restaurant tomorrow.”

Brightness: “What’s it called? The fancy one that’s always booked?”

Backheel: “You mean Palace Place? Impossible. I’ve been trying to get a table since it opened.”

Brightness: “Same. That place is like gold dust.”

Tooney: “We need something special, though. We’re all together. Ideas?”

Leah smirked, leaning against the kitchen counter as she typed her response:

Captain: “Sorted. 7 PM tomorrow. Dress fancy.”

The chat exploded.

Tooney: “LEAH.”

Backheel: “How?!”

Brightness: “You didn’t even say where!”

Walshy: “She probably means Nando’s.”

Tooney: “I swear, if this is a joke…”

Leah tossed her phone on the counter, ignoring the continued barrage of messages, and walked into the living room. The soft hum of classical music filtered through the space, and the faint aroma of roasted garlic and herbs greeted her.

“Smells amazing,” she called, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

You stood by the stove, dressed casually in an apron, hair tied back, moving with the kind of effortless grace Leah never tired of watching. You glanced over your shoulder, a smile already forming.

“Hey, you. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Leah walked up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it. Training kills me, and you’re here cooking like it’s nothing.”

“Years of practice,” you teased, leaning back into her embrace. “How was camp?”

Leah hesitated, her lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Good. The girls want to go out tomorrow night. Celebrate being all together.”

You turned in her arms, raising an eyebrow. “And let me guess, they want to go somewhere fancy?”

She grinned. “They were debating places, and your restaurant came up.”

“Did it now?” you asked, amusement coloring your tone. “And what did you say?”

“I didn’t.” Leah shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Didn’t want to out myself as having an in with the chef-owner who happens to be my girlfriend.”

You laughed softly, running a hand down her arm. “So you’re here to use your connections?”

“Obviously,” Leah said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Any chance you can fit us in tomorrow?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “For you? Always. How many?”

“About 20.”

You blinked. “20?”

Leah winced. “Yeah… full squad.”

“Good thing I like you,” you teased, reaching for your phone to call the restaurant.

Leah sent the address to the group chat in the morning, and as expected, chaos ensued.

Tooney: “No way. THE Palace place?!”

Backheel: “Leah, I’m actually screaming.”

Daily mail: “I tried booking for my mum’s birthday and couldn’t. HOW?”

Brightness: “She must know someone.”

Tooney: “Leah Williamson: captain, legend, and apparently a magician.”

Leah ignored it all, casually walking into the training facility as if her phone wasn’t buzzing nonstop in her pocket.

The team arrived promptly at 7 PM, dressed to impress. The restaurant was stunning, its interior sleek yet inviting, with warm lighting that made everything glow. They were escorted to a private dining room where a long table awaited, set with pristine white linens, sparkling glassware, and fresh flowers.

“This is insane,” Ella muttered, taking in the surroundings.

“How did you pull this off?” Millie asked Leah, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Leah smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I told you. Connections.”

The team was halfway through the meal—an exquisite multi-course experience—when the door to the dining room opened. You walked in, your chef’s jacket pristine, a warm smile on your face.

“Good evening, ladies,” you greeted.

The table fell silent, all eyes turning to you. Leah tried to suppress a grin as you approached.

“Everything to your liking so far?” you asked, your gaze briefly meeting Leah’s.

“The food’s incredible,” Keira said. “Are you the chef?”

You nodded. “And the owner.”

Murmurs of amazement rippled through the group.

Leah cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. “Everyone, this is Y/n.”

“Wait…” Rachel’s eyes darted between you and Leah. “This is your connection?”

Leah shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I know people.”

“Hold on.” Ella leaned forward, pointing at Leah. “You’re dating the chef?!”

Leah’s smirk widened. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

The table erupted in laughter, teasing, and a flurry of questions directed at you.

When the bill arrived, one of the players reached for it, but the waiter quickly informed them it had already been settled.

“It’s on me,” you said with a smile, standing beside Leah. “You’re all family to Leah, which makes you family to me.”

The team groaned, joking about being spoiled, but their gratitude was evident.

As everyone filtered out of the restaurant, Leah lingered by the door with you, her hand slipping into yours.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth.

You leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Anything for you.”

The team’s laughter echoed down the street, and Leah pulled you closer, her heart full as she watched her two worlds collide perfectly.

[tikitakatia]

Under Watch — A. Putellas x Reader

"You´re Late"

WC: 1.4k

Summary: You’re hired to protect her but she’s reckless, untouchable, and wants nothing to do with you.

The first time you met her was in a hallway.

She’s already late. Cleats in one hand, hoodie slung low, hair still damp from the shower. She’s got that just-finished-practice glow: skin flushed, breath still a little quick, body loose in a way that says she just spent an hour tearing up the field.

She doesn’t look dangerous. But she is.

Not in the way your briefing warned about, no wild-eyed stalkers or coded threats here. Not yet. She’s dangerous in the way she moves like nothing can touch her. Like if the building crumbled around her, she’d walk out of the dust without a scratch. There’s a kind of recklessness in her that doesn’t read as careless, it reads as power.

She stops a few paces from you and looks you up and down. That’s intentional. Every part of her is practiced, the cock of her head, the slow drag of her eyes, the way she lets the silence stretch just a little too long before she speaks.

“You’re the bodyguard?” she says, unimpressed on purpose.

You nod once.

She sighs. Loud. Theatrical. “This is ridiculous.”

Another nod. Slower this time.

You don’t explain yourself. That’s not your job.

She mutters something under her breath and turns away. Her voice follows her as she walks.

“What do they think is gonna happen? I trip over a ball and need saving?”

You follow. Quietly. That part is your job.

She slouches in her seat during the security briefing like she’s doing the club a favor just by being there. One foot up on the table, twirling a pen between her fingers, face locked in that unimpressed athlete expression she wears like armor.

The head of security goes over it all again. The notes. The photos. The fact that one of them was left on her locker and no one saw who did it. Another showed up two days later. No fingerprints. Just words. Messy, threatening, graphic.

Too many people know where she trains, where she eats, where she lives. Too many eyes on her at all times. She’s high-profile. Always careful with her words. Polished. Politically correct. She knows how to play the media game and never slips, at least not publicly. But lately, someone’s been trying to push her off balance and get under her skin.

You’re not assigned to investigate. You’re there to be the barrier. The buffer. The human shield.

She doesn’t look at you once during the meeting. But she knows you’re watching.

At lunch, she sits two tables away with her teammates. Tosses her head back in a laugh that’s too loud, too staged. 

Then leans into the physio and says, “She stares too much.”

The physio glances at you. You don’t blink.

You’re not trying to intimidate her. Not consciously. But you don’t look away either. You’re paid to see everything.

She bites into an apple and smiles like she’s won something.

That evening, she tries the back gate. You don’t need cameras to know it. You already clocked her angle the second she cut out of the hallway with her phone pressed too casually to her ear.

You’re leaning against the car by the time she gets there.

She halts and doesn’t bother to hide her frustration. Instead, she frowns like a teenager caught sneaking out past curfew.

“Do you ever take breaks?” she asks.

You say nothing. Just open the passenger door and wait.

She slides in, arms crossed. No seatbelt. You don’t start the engine. You wait.

The silence stretches. Long enough for her to shift in her seat. Tap her fingers on her thigh. Glance your way once. Twice.

Twenty-three seconds, you count.

“Okay, what, is this your way of interrogating me?”

Still, you don’t respond.

She mutters under her breath, clicks her seatbelt into place.

The engine starts.

She doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride. But when she gets out, she slams the door just hard enough to make a point.

The first real conversation happens on day four.

She’s supposed to be at a press junket. You find her in the equipment room, legs swinging off a crate, scrolling her phone like she’s waiting for the universe to give her an excuse to skip it entirely.

“You’re late,” you say.

She doesn’t look up. “It’s boring.”

“You have a schedule.”

She shrugs. “So adjust it.”

You don’t move.

She lets the silence drag for a while before finally looking at you. Really looking.

“Do you ever lighten up? Pareces mi sombra.” she says the nickname slowly, as if trying to see how she likes the feel of it in her mouth.

You sigh. Not loud. Not annoyed. Just… necessary.

She grins. Slow and sharp. “That’s a yes.”

From that moment on, you’re Sombrita.

She uses it everywhere. Says it with a smirk, like it’s an inside joke only she’s in on. She teases you with it in front of the others. Whispers it under her breath as she walks past.

You don’t correct her.

She knows your coffee order by the end of the week even though you never told her. Hands it to you without fanfare one morning. Just a paper cup and a look. Like she’s waiting for something to break.

It doesn’t. Not on the outside.

She wanders into a crowd of fans, photographers and noise. You’re beside her before she realizes she’s drifted too far.

She veers off schedule. You’re at the next checkpoint without a word.

Eventually, she starts pretending you don’t exist. But narrates your presence like it’s a game.

“And here comes mi sombrita,” she says once, as you appear in a doorway.

“Silently judging my existence.”

Her teammates laugh. She watches you from the corner of her eye.

You never laugh back.

The third time she tries to ditch you, it’s raining.

She slips out a side door after training, hoodie pulled up, steps quiet. Like she’s testing you again.

You find her half a block away, hands jammed in her pockets, shoulders hunched.

You reach out, catch her arm. Gentle, but firm.

“Don’t.”

She startles, pulls back.

“Jesus. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“You’re not cleared to leave alone.”

“I’m going to get coffee.”

“Take me with you.”

She scoffs. “I’m not five.”

You hold her gaze. Calm. Unflinching.

“I know.”

Something in your tone slows her down. Makes her look at you like she’s seeing you for the first time.

She doesn’t argue again.

You’ve guarded politicians, CEOs, criminals with targets on their backs. You’ve been shot at, stalked, followed.

None of them ever looked at you like this.

Like they’re waiting for you to crack. Like they want to know what’s behind the armor.

You avoid reacting. That’s protocol.

She makes it difficult.

You’re at your usual post in the lobby when she appears beside you without a sound.

"Ever wonder if you’re the threat?" she asks, eyes fixed ahead.

You turn your head. She’s closer than she should be. Close enough to count her lashes.

“Every day,” you say.

You step back before she can respond.

For once, she doesn’t have a comeback.

Two weeks in, she pushes too far.

It’s post-match chaos. Adrenaline. She’s been fouled hard, and it shows. She barrels past you, muttering curses under her breath, knocks over a table full of water bottles. The PR team flinches.

You follow. Not too close. Just enough.

She stops. Spins on you.

“You gonna give me a time-out now?”

You don’t answer.

“Maybe call my mom? Tell her I’m being difficult?”

Still silent.

“Seriously Sombra, what’s the endgame here? You gonna follow me into the shower next?”

You cross your arms. Don’t flinch.

She storms past. “Fuck you.”

Your voice follows her. Low. Steady.

“I don’t care if you like me. I care if you stay alive.”

She stops mid-step and the hallway holds its breath.

“I don’t need saving.” She says quietly.

You say nothing.

This time, she walks away slower.

You don’t follow right away.

The next morning, she strolls into training like nothing happened. Yawns too loud. Tosses a ball toward your feet like it’s a peace offering disguised as mockery.

You pick it up. Toss it back.

No words.

She grins like she won something.

Maybe she did.

She disappears after a match. For thirty minutes, your pulse climbs by degrees. You check every room. Sweep the perimeter. Quiet panic simmering under your skin.

You find her outside. Alone on a bench. Hoodie pulled up, headphones in, eyes closed.

You sit beside her. Not close. Just there.

She doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t move.

“You’re late,” she murmurs.

You sigh.

Of course she notices.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter in the Air

Grace Clinton x Albert!Reader

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, homophobia

A/n thank you @silentwolfsstuff for proofreading it for me.

You can still remember the first time you felt different, felt different from your family, from Korbin.

You’re ten when you and Korbin sit up all night as she talks about Shawn, a boy in your class that she’s currently crushing on, you listen like you always have and smile as her cheeks redden as she talks about holding his hand in the yard.

Your cheeks redden a short while later but for different reasons, the conversation moves to what boy you have a crush on.

It’s not a boy, it hasn’t been a boy since you kissed Dylan behind the tree in his backyard, You haven’t liked a boy since Aaliyah held your hand at the last school dance, since she kissed your cheek in the girls bathroom.

You’re sick you think,a short while after it happens, that’s why you have these funny feelings, maybe Aaliyah made you sick by holding your hand and kissing your cheek and that’s why your stomach feels funny, you feel this sinking feeling in your stomach as you think of it more, you’re sick now, you can’t hold anyone’s hand anymore you can’t kiss your mom good night because you’re sick, Aaliyah made you sick and you don’t want to give to anyone especially not your family, especially not Korbin and Teagan and Kylar and your Dad. So you stop, no one else can be sick like you, you’ll keep it to yourself and that way everyone will be safe.

But you can’t tell Korbin this, she doesn’t seem to have these types of feelings for girls, she’s not sick, no one seems to have these types of feeling for girls except your Dad and Kyler, but they're boys, they are supposed to feel that way, they aren’t sick like you, it what your mom says, it’s what the pastor says, it’s what the bible says.

You try to stop having these feelings as you get older you really do, you try to pray away your sickness, you pour holy water over your hands daily and you bless yourself extra going to mass but still nothing works.

You get a boyfriend when you turn fifteen a couple of months after Korbin starts dating Ethan you find Will.

He’s nice and you parents love him the same way his parents love you but you never feel what Korbin and Teagan say they feel with their boyfriends.

They aren’t sick like you.

You do however feel it with Kayla, you don’t mean to, you never meant to but she’s soft and nice to talk to not that Will isn’t but when you talk with her on the bus ride home from your match and you swear your hearts going to beat out of your chest.

Kayla tries to kiss you a couple of weeks later but you panic “what are you doing.” Kayla’s still has her hands on your face your cheeks slightly squished together “I just thought that…well you know since…” you pull fully back “I have a boyfriend Kay, Will he’s nice and I can’t do this to him.”

Kayla’s eyes widen “wait does…are you saying that if you weren’t with Will you would.” You panic at the pulling away stepping back trying to create distance. “I’m not gay.” You state harshly “I’m not sick.” You spit harsher again. Kayla tried to but she really couldn’t be mad you looked so heartbroken and so conflicted “ok my mistake.”

You avoid her on the bus from then on, and you find yourself sitting alone, she’s the only other sophomore on the varsity team, if you don’t talk to her, sit with her then you’ll be alone. You are alone. You’re the only one who’s sick.

You’ve been getting called to play for the US since you were thirteen, Korbin following a year later at fourteen. You move along the ranks of football better and your parents can’t help but show how happy they are for you, how happy your sisters and brother are for you, but still you feel lost. You still feel sick.

You travel to France in the summer of 2019 it’s a gift from your parents for getting baptised and giving your life to god, you don’t do it cause you want to, you do it in hopes it will rid you of this sickness you do it in hopes of being normal.

But it also makes your parents happy it makes Korbin happy as she bounces in the water beside you.

You sit anxiously as the US win the World Cup again. A funny feeling fills you as you watch Kelly O’Hara run to the crowd and kiss a girl, sure you knew most of the senior squad players were gay but to actually see one in real life kissing a girl, it felt weird.

But that feeling faded quickly as Korbin let out a small ew at the sight instead your body now felt heavy like you were being pulled down, “I mean I know she’s a girl kisser but can’t she do that in private.” Teagan nods “it’s sick honestly it’s like they are trying to force us into accepting it.”

You and Will are still together, even when Korbin’s gone and had three other boyfriends, but you still don’t have those feelings your friends and sisters talk about, maybe you just have to stick with him a little longer.

Maybe you just need to sleep with him and the feelings will start then, maybe the sickness will go away then.

It’s what you tell yourself leading up to the varsity teams dance, it’s what you tell yourself as you dance with him through the night, it’s what you tell yourself when your kissing in the corner of the hall and it’s what you tell yourself as your lying on the bed Will pressed up against you. But it never happens.

You break up with him just before summer that year. “I….I’m sorry Will I just, I don’t…they all have these feelings and I don’t have them and…you deserve someone who has them cause your a really great guy and I don’t…you would just be left waiting for me to get feelings I don’t think will ever come.”

He takes it relatively well, you’re just happy that you can still be friends, Korbin takes it worse than both of you combined.

“Oh my god I just heard, are you ok…stupid question sorry come on let’s go get ice cream.” You don’t know what else to do but you can’t indulge in the bad things she’s saying about him “He’s not a bad guy Korbin I broke up with him, he…I don’t have these feelings you and Teagan talk about for him and it’s not fair on him so I broke up with him.” I’m sick and he’s not and I don’t want to put that on him you think.

Korbin takes that as you fancy someone else and the heart to heart you thought you were having turns into gossip about who it could be that you like.

You're seventeen still when it’s time to make a decision about your football career. College is the best option but it’s not the only one for you like it is for Korbin.

The decision hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sunlit afternoon. Notre Dame, a prestigious institution, beckoned with its ivy-covered walls and storied tradition. It's where Korbin will be but it wasn't the dream. The dream was painted in Carolina blue, a vision of playing for UNC, a place where legends like Tobin Heath and Lucy Bronze had once graced the field.

The phone call from Manchester United shattered the familiar. A senior contract, not a youth academy invite. A chance to step onto the world stage, to play in the WSL not some college league, not the NCAA. It was a dream come true, but a dream that Korbin was still a few years off reaching.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, you were twins you did everything together, but for many years you had been charging ahead in soccer, you just had to hope she'd catch up eventually.

You don't expect it to make major news, your still only seventeen but your mom sends a clip of an ESPN headline stating your signing to Manchester United.

Y/n Albert is on her way to the WSL signing with Manchester United, Albert’s twin sister Korbin commits to Notre Dame.

You move a short while later, your parents coming with you to help you settle into your new apartment, you feel happy, content even until your mom states her worries for you living in the English city.

"I worry about you baby, you know there are so many...gays here and well i don't want any of them trying to force themselves on you, their sick individuals and your my baby."

You feel as though you might throw up then and there at the reminder of your sickness.

"Mom" you whine "No ones going to do anything, I....I'll be fine."

They leave a few days later, with the promise of geting on a flight and coming to rescue you if needed, you brush them off stepping back as your mom moves in for a hug and instead simply waving goodbye.

United finish fourth on the table, but you have a dream first season, so much so you get your first call up to the USWNT, you cry on the phone to Korbin as she cries back about how proud she is, your parents are proud to but your moms also busy wondering if you've met any nice english boys, again the moment is ruined and you feel sick again.

Y/n Albert receives her first call up for the USWNT after a dream first season with the Red Devils, making an appearance in every match this season and starting in nineteen games, assisting Untied star striker Alessia Russo with six of her eleven goals.

It's true you've assisted the majority of Alessia's goals but you haven't celebrated a single one, not on or off the pitch, in fact your team have copped on pretty quickly that you don't want to be hugged, to be touched.

You want nothing more, but the girls are to good to get sick from you, Alessia who you can't help but admit you've got a slight crush for is to good to get this awful sickness from you, its safer if you don't hug...don't touch your teammates.

Y/n Albert receives first cap for the USWNT against Costa Rica in the CONCAF semi-finals which saw the USWNT advancing to the finals after a 3-0 score.

You return back to Manchester, a winner with two senior national team caps under your belt, after facing Canda in the final, your english teamates have won the euros and while they are all showing off their medal standing around hugging your teamates, you stand far back in the corner of your dressing room.

Your medal gets passed around too, you've scrubbed it clean making sure none of your germs are on it so the girls don't get sick, its been in your bag ever since and you simply wave at Less to grab it from there when she asks about it.

It's a big deal, a real medal but you can't cause a fuss over it because then people want to congratulate you, touch you, so you wave it all off.

You wave it off. until a girl around the same age as you with a funny accent hands it back "That's proper cool mate." You look between her and the medal, three maybe four times.

She steps forward her arms open, open for a hug but they swiftly close as you step back and her face falls slightly.

She sticks her hand out "Sorry" and now your eyes flash between her outstretched hand, your medal and her face. "Less says you're not a hugger I forgot, but its really great to meet you mate, I'm Grace."

You don't move, your mind is blank, in fact all you can think about is how she says her Gs a weird way, and as her face falls slightly at your lack of response to her open hand your brain kicks in.

"Y/n." you say shakily, but still don't move. Grace drops her hand smiling and all you can think about is how your stomach erupts into butterflies.

But it only lasts a moment, only a moment until you feel your stomach drop, your blood to go cold and the heavy feeling to fall back on to you.

Your sickness is back, and you can't give it to Grace, not now not ever.

Grace and her funny little way of saying Gs.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1500+

Warnings: blood

Summary: You’d never seen Alexia lose control on the pitch before. At least, not until today.

The match had started off just as you and Alexia had planned. Barca was up 1-0, with Alexia scoring the opening goal off a perfect assist from Aitana. She'd celebrated with that smile that told everyone in the stadium she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She looked so happy, so calm, and you couldn't help but beam at her across the pitch.

But the second half was where everything went wrong.

You were just about to intercept a pass when Arsenal's captain, Leah Williamson, came in with a rough tackle, her elbow catching you hard in the face. You barely had time to react, feeling the impact before you were sent sprawling to the ground with a gasp, pain shooting through your nose as you hit the turf. Everything went a little fuzzy, and you felt a warm trickle of blood start to run down your face.

Before you could even process what had happened, your teammates had gathered around you, waving for the medics to come out. They knelt beside you, one of them pressing gauze against your nose to stop the bleeding. You winced, struggling to keep your focus through the pain, but then you heard a voice that cut through the haze of it all.

"¡Oye! ¿Qué te crees que estás haciendo?" Alexia's voice was unmistakable, laced with anger in a way you'd never heard before. You turned your head, catching a blurry glimpse of her marching up to Leah, her expression thunderous.

Leah crossed her arms, standing her ground. "It was a fair tackle, calm down," she shot back, but Alexia was having none of it. She shoved Leah, her jaw clenched tight.

"¡No tocas a mi chica así!" Alexia's voice was low and dangerous, and you could see her fists were balled, her entire body radiating fury. Your heart skipped a beat; you'd never seen her like this, not in all the time you'd known her.

"Alexia..." you murmured, trying to sit up, but the medics held you back. "Wait, please—"

But the two captains were locked in a fierce standoff, teammates from both sides rushing in to pull them apart, voices rising in a chaotic jumble of English and Spanish. You couldn't make out the words, but the tension was thick, the lines between the two teams blurring as everyone tried to defuse the situation.

You couldn't just sit by and watch as Alexia's temper flared, though. With a determined look, you pushed away the medic's hand, standing up despite the dizziness that washed over you. Ignoring their protests, you made your way over, weaving through the bodies until you were right behind her.

"Alexia," you called, reaching out to grab the back of her jersey, giving it a tug.

She whipped around, her expression still fierce—until she realized it was you. Her face softened immediately, her hands lifting instinctively to cup your cheeks as she took in the blood smeared across your face. "Mi amor... you are bleeding," she whispered, her eyes filled with worry and anger all at once.

You managed a small smile, placing your hands over hers. "It's okay, I'm fine. But please, calm down, alright?" you said gently. You could feel the tension in her grip, the way her jaw was still tight, and you could tell she was struggling to keep her composure.

"But she... she hit you," Alexia said, her accent thicker than usual in her frustration. "I cannot let her do that to you."

You squeezed her hands, leaning in a little closer. "I know, I know, but it's just a part of the game. Please, just come with me to the stands so they can clean me up. It's not worth it."

Her gaze flickered between you and Leah, hesitating, clearly torn. She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to launch back into the argument, but you tugged her hands a little closer, stepping into her line of sight.

"Please, cariño," you murmured, letting your voice soften. "Walk me over to the medics. Just... just focus on me."

Alexia looked over your shoulder at Leah, her eyes narrowing, but then she glanced back at you, her expression softening. "Okay... okay, for you," she murmured, her thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

You let out a relieved breath, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you."

She wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you gently back towards the sidelines. Her touch was firm and protective, her fingers pressing into your hip as if to shield you from any further harm. You leaned into her, feeling a sense of comfort despite the throbbing pain in your nose.

When you reached the bench, she helped you sit down, crouching beside you and reaching out to gently wipe a smudge of blood from your cheek with her thumb. "You scared me," she admitted softly, her voice laced with concern.

You managed a weak laugh, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I didn't mean to. But you really didn't have to go after Leah like that. I'm alright, Alexia."

She shook her head, her gaze intense. "No, no está bien. She should not touch you like this." Her hand moved to your shoulder, holding you as if to ground herself.

You cupped her face in your hands, making her look at you. "I'm okay," you repeated softly. "Just... stay here with me, alright?"

Her eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, her thumb grazing your cheek. "Always, mi amor. Always."

*

After a visit from the medics to pack your nose, you managed to convince them—and Alexia—that you could head back on the field. She was fuming as she followed you back, shaking her head the entire way.

"I don't like this," Alexia muttered, her Spanish accent thickening as her irritation grew. "You shouldn't be playing."

"Lexi, I'll be fine," you said, giving her a quick, reassuring smile. "They're just making me get an X-ray later as a precaution, but it's nothing serious."

She didn't look convinced. Her fingers grazed the edge of the bandage on your nose, her brow furrowed. "But you are hurt. What if you get hit again? I don't like it."

You gently took her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, okay? I'll stay out of trouble.”

Alexia gave you a reluctant nod, though you could still see the worry etched in her expression. She stayed close to you as the match resumed, shooting daggers at anyone who so much as came near you, and by the time the whistle blew, her concern had shifted into a steely kind of protectiveness.

Barca had won, 1-0, and despite the soreness, you couldn't help but smile, hugging Alexia in celebration. She held you close, whispering, "You are too stubborn."

"Only because I'm dating you," you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her smile gave her away.

As the celebrations wrapped up, Leah approached, looking slightly nervous as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Hey," Leah started, glancing between you and Alexia. "I wanted to say sorry about earlier. Really didn't mean for it to be that rough. Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving her a forgiving smile. "It's alright, Leah. Things happen on the pitch. I'm all good now."

Leah let out a relieved breath, smiling back. "Glad to hear it." She paused, looking slightly sheepish. "Also, any chance you'd want to swap jerseys? As a bit of a peace offering?"

You blinked, a little surprised, but after a quick glance at Alexia's thunderous expression, you gave Leah a reassuring nod. "Yeah, sure."

You slipped your jersey off and handed it to Leah, who smiled gratefully as she passed hers to you. But Alexia's glare hadn't let up, and the second Leah turned away, you felt Alexia's arms wrap firmly around your waist from behind.

Her fingers spread out across your bare stomach, pressing against your skin as if trying to shield you from the world. She lowered her face to your ear, her voice low and annoyed. "She has no shame, coming up to you like this."

You laughed softly, leaning back against her. "Baby, she was just being nice."

"She hurt you," Alexia muttered, her arms tightening slightly around you. "And now she asks for your jersey? It's like she doesn't understand who you belong to."

You couldn't help but laugh again, turning slightly in her arms to look at her. "She knows, trust me."

Alexia's gaze softened slightly as she looked down at you, though her annoyance was still clear. "Maybe I should remind her."

Rolling your eyes, you reached up to cup her cheek. "Alexia, I'm okay. And she apologised. I promise, I'm yours."

Her expression finally relaxed, and she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Good. Because I am not sharing you."

You grinned, wrapping your arms around her neck. "I wouldn't dream of it."

She pulled you even closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "Then let's go celebrate properly. Away from everyone else."

You laughed, letting her lead you off the pitch, her arm still wrapped possessively around you the entire way, her touch never leaving your skin.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[aalyre]

one thing about the foxes that will always make me giddy is the team taking shots at their own goals knowing that andrew’s gonna catch the ball

[camerahaterlittle]

We're from the same pack but from rivaling herds | Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia has never been a good mother to you and finally you snap and she finally realizes her mistake as a mother

Warnings: Bad writing grammer and mentions of purposeful self harm Alexia's a bad guy here yall if this seems like something that you wouldn't enjoy please don't read

Ever since Alexia was pregnant with you, she never really thought about the future and whether you'd take on her legacy and continue to play football with your name of the back of the jersey even when you were born she never felt that connection that her mother told her she would feel with you she was just numb she didn't necessarily like you but she loved you.

Whether that was because she felt like she had to or because she actually did was always unclear to her and only her because she never told anyone how she actually felt about having you but deep down she knew that she didn't want you by any means in her kind she was young in love and free.

You always thought that's why you always sat alone at the dinner table eating dinner with one of Alexia's old jerseys on one of the chairs stretched out so it'd fit there pretending it was her when you were only 5 years old with whatever interview you could find of her playing in the background while Alba slept on the couch.

Ever since those days you swore, you wouldn't let your mother hurt you any longer, yet it didn't work all that well since you always bit back your words every time you were talking to her (it was really arguments) and those talks always left you in tears at a random gym taking your pain out on a punching back was your form correct no not at all your fists always hurt in the first ten minutes because you didn't wrap your hands right but in some way you enjoyed the pain since it took your mind off everything else.

Boxing was your thing it let you relieve whatever emotions you were feeling without any form of consequence if you didn't count the fact your knuckles would be killing you after the session with barely any breaks boxing was more of your thing than football ever was and maybe that's why you and your mother got pushed further away there wasn't anything you could bond over since your hate for football from when you were 5 stayed all the way until now.

And that was why to your self adopted coach, said you were the best fighter in Spain, at least that's what he told you that you could be if you let him help you and get you to that point you only nodded barely listening to the guy only 'agreeing' because you wanted to get back to hitting the bag like it offended you in some way.

Did Alexia know about your fighting? No, she didn't. No one really knew if you didn't count Ingrid and Mapi in that statement because they knew everything, yet you made them promise not to say anything or do anything when you broke down in front of them spilling everything that's been happening.

The couple had become your anchor through everything they were the only thing holding you above the crashing water, keeping you a float helping you swim through everything you knew you could always count on them no matter the situation they were always there and that was something you'd never take for granted since you never got that much growing up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked around, trying to spot Mapi and Ingrid in the small crowd of people. After your fight, you ended up winning, which wasn't a surprise to your coach or any of the small number of fans you had since you normally won every fight of yours with barely any struggle.

But to your surprise, when you finally found the couple, you saw Alexia standing right next to them, a small frown on her face with her arms crossed against her chest. Your expression hardened immediately. Your jaw clenched as you took off your gloves so you could finally wipe the sweat and blood off your face.

You were zoned out the entire conversation with your coach, only humming or mumbling a small okay in response to whatever he was saying the moment he was finished talking to you, you were out of the ring walking over to Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia the couple pulling you into their arms like they were trying to shield you away from Alexia's gaze.

"You did amazing out there cariño best fight I ever saw." Mapi murmured in your ear as she held you closer to her as Ingrid started a somewhat friendly conversation with Alexia, trying to get her attention off of you and Mapi.

You had the smallest smile on your face from her praise as your arms slightly tightened around her, enjoying the warmth and love you got from the fellow Spaniard. "Thank you, Maps," you said quietly, a small shiver going down your spine when her hand started to scratch at your scalp, ignoring the way the slightly wet strands felt against her fingertips.

Mapi looked up and away from you when Alexia cleared her throat, rolling her eyes at the sight of you and her best friend together. Mapi slowly pulled you out of her arms so you could actually see your mother, yet you stayed close to one of your favorite people, not like the arm Mapi still had around you was gonna let you go anywhere at all.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were boxing now, huh?" Alexia spoke her tone sharp and calculated just like it always was when she spoke to you. Mapi, in response to Alexia's words, pulled you a bit closer to you, offering you a silent comfort from Alexia's coldness.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal it's just a hobby." Your words came out quiet less harsh than Alexia's the somewhat happiness you felt from before vanishing as she continued. You knew she wouldn't drop this topic even if you just wished she would.

"Just a hobby, then explain why you've been doing this for the past year. If it's just a hobby, why are you continuing this Y/n." Alexia stepped closer to you, her frame towering over yours the moment the Norwegian who was standing on the side saw this she came between the two of you immediately something that surprised Alexia since Ingrid wasn't one for getting in between things often.

"Why don't you leave Alexia she will be home later on in the night. I think you need to cool down some, and then you guys can talk." Ingrid's words were sharp and calculated as she chose her words wisely, stopping whatever possible fight that could've been caused because of this.

You let out a sigh of relief Ingrid's words acting as a life jacket in the horrible waves of the sea keeping you above the water. Mapi pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as she walked away with you, leaving the Norwegian to deal with whatever Alexia could possibly say in response to things.

"She needs to come home now. Engen, there's conversations that we have to have." Alexia's expression hardened as she stared at her teammate, wondering why she was stopping her from getting her child and bringing her home to have a conversation.

"And that's not happening, not right now, Alexia she's not coming home until she's ready to talk to you, and until then, she will be staying with me and Mapi she is safe with us for the time being" Ingrid responded her own expression hardening the longer she stayed with Alexia she knew no conversation would be had it would be one sided the Spaniard in front of her being the only one who spoke while you sat in silence.

Alexia scoffed, shaking her head she had a feeling no matter what she said. Ingrid wouldn't let her take you home, so she left it at that, muttering something in Spainsh that the Norwegian couldn't quite catch in the moment.

Ingrid watched Alexia walk away, making sure she actually left before going to find you and Mapi finding the two of you in the back room of this gym you ended up fighting in a soft smile appearing on hee face as she saw you and Mapi messing around while talking she partly knew that her girlfriend was only doing this to distract you from what had just happened and it was clearly working.

The midfielder eventually walked over to the two of you, interrupting the mini fight/conversation you two were having "Alright you two, we've got to go home and get some food in our stomachs." Both you and Mapi turned, hearing the Ingrid's words pouting a bit since what you two were planning was interrupted but compiled anyways."Yes, mom." "Aye Aye, captain." Came from the both of you, Ingrid chuckling in response as the three of you left ready to get home.

All three of you hopped into the car, buckling yourselves in the car windows immediately being put down some the drive to your favorite restaurant being made while you got the aux cord and you took full control over that playing every Frozen song since in your words "It's not my fault it has one of the best soundtracks" which only resulted in groans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you walked into the house, you saw Alexia on the couch it had only been a couple hours since you last saw her, and you felt your heart clench at the sight of her sitting there zoned out to the point she didn't even notice walking inside the house.

You sighed, walking into the kitchen, grabbing an energy drink, cracking it open, taking a long sip from it. You heard Alexia getting up, making out the sounds of her clothes russling as she made her way into the kitchen after her gaze felt weird like she was staring straight through you or something and you most definitely didn't like that at all.

"Y/n, we need to talk about things." Alexia's tone was for once surprisingly softer than it normally was when she was talking to you, and that threw you off guard.

"You mean you're gonna talk, and I have to listen." Your tone was sharp just like hers was earlier at your fight, and yet instead of you being caught off guard, it was Alexia she never heard you take that tone with her once in her life.

"And quite frankly, I'm tired of listening to you talk and you expecting me to just take it and listen." You continued not giving her a chance to speak you were tired of listening and that was clear.

You took another swig from your drink, not daring to face her because you knew if you did, you'd crumble and wouldn't get everything you felt off of your chest nothing you were thinking in this moment was making sense and that meant everything came out oddly not making much sense but you knew Alexia was smart enough to get the point.

"I know i wasn't ever your baby and that I was only a maybe to you, and it took me forever to accept that hell I don't think I've even accepted it now I think I'm just okay with it now even if it hurts because my own mother doesn't care unless it affects her and even then you couldn't care less." You wiped the tears that were already falling. You expected that you wouldn't be able to hold yourself together during this. What made you say all of this to her was unknown. Maybe it was the softness in her tone, or maybe you were done with everything.

"I only wanted to feel loved by you, but you didn't even give me that all I got was you talking and ignoring what I had to say I got your jerseys on chairs in the kitchen because you were too busy to come home I sat alone pretending you were there with an interview of you playing wishing you'd care or love me just as much as you love football no five year old should have to do that." You could hear your words coming out shaky as you spoke, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You glanced at Alexia seeing her standing there tears in her eyes but you didn't care not when she was your first heartbreak.

"I just want you to love me as much as you love Pina or Vicky. I'm your actual daughter, and yet they somehow get more love and attention from you. I tried everything to get your attention, and yet I still couldn't get it. I wanted your attention good or bad." You took a shaky deep breath, putting your drink down on the counter rubbing your face, trying to get rid of the tears that were freely falling.

"But I didn't ever get that from you. I got it from Mapi and Ingrid. I got it from Alba and Jenni, but never you, the one person's love and attention i wanted i didn't get ever and I don't think you know how much that shaped me as a person." You turned around facing her. You could see she was going through every emotion possible as you continued.

"I don't need it now anymore, but she needed it she needed it more than me. I've grown to accept what you've done, but she hasn't she's still wondering what made you not love her as much as you loved everyone else." Alexia felt her heart break at your words she knew exactly what you meant by she without you even saying it, and it hurt her more than she ever thought.

You picked up your can once again, downing the rest of it before setting it back on the counter just staring into her eyes. Both of your eyes were red, tears staining your cheeks, and in that moment, it really felt like you were looking into a mirror staring back at yourself when, in all reality, it was just two hurt people one hurting more than the other.

You stood there like there for a few more moments, looking away from her as your lip trembled a bit. You just wanted Alexia to answer one question, and one only but you knew the answer would probably break you even more. "Did you ever actually love me? Did you ever even want me?".

You waited for her to respond, and it took her minutes to respond, but when she finally did, your heart broke even more just like you expected. "I don't know. I wish I had a better answer." Alexia was ashamed of herself for the way everything turned out for the way she treated her own daughter.

You nodded, walking over to the door and leaving the house without another word for once it was pouring outside. You wanted to turn around and go back inside the house, but you didn't. You kept walking without a set place in your mind on where to go.

Alexia watched you leave her heartbreaking even more. If that was even possible, she walked over to the couch sitting down head in her hands as she cried, wondering what had happened to make this turn out this way even if she knew the answer deep down.

It had been more than an hour since you left, and Alexia was still crying over everything, her heart aching in a way she didn't know was possible she picked up her phone when it started to ring answering it waiting to see who it was.

"Hello, is this Alexia Putellas" A man's voice spoke his voice ringing through Alexia's ears.

"Yes, this is her. What's this call for." Alexia thought this was just another photoshot guy or anything of that sort but she couldn't have been anymore wrong.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but your daughter Y/n is currently in the hospital in critical condition." The man responded, but he didn't get a response. The call ended immediately as Alexia jumped up, grabbing her keys and leaving her phone behind as she ran out the door, getting in her car driving to the nearest hospital breaking all kinds of laws just to get there.

Okay, I feel like this is incredibly short, but enjoy this while I work on other requests

[suni-writings]

Smart mouth.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: arguments [kinda], make-up, smut, fingering)

realized it's been a while since i showed up! might not be that good, but hope u enjoy it :)

You weren’t even sure why you and Jude kept constantly fighting. You both worked well together — he was a good, consistent partner and he never took anything out on you. Everyone around you could go on about how the two of you were almost a match made in heaven, with tempers that combined, made a great couple. However, those tempers were exactly what led to so many pointless, useless arguments.

You had been arguing the whole ride back to your place, where he was supposed to sleep at that day. Neither of you remembered exactly how it started — the meaning losing somehow behind the amount of alcohol both of you had while clubbing. You were complaining about something while Jude tried to take deep, long breaths before always replying drying and sarcastically.

When you arrived and left the car, you turned to him after you opened the door up.

“You know what, Bellingham?” You asked. He always hated when you called him by his last name. “Just turn around and go home. I don’t want you here.”

“And I—” he held the door as you tried to shut in his face, failing miserably considering how taller and stronger he was, and he walked inside your place. “Don’t care. I’m staying here, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed as he sat down on your couch. He was just as bothered as you, if not more, but you were too mouthful when it came to fighting. You stood in front of him once he turned on your TV.

“You’re sleeping here. On the couch.”

He laughed dryly at your attempt to command him. Since you were on his way of watching the TV, he held your waist and, in one, swift move, pulled you onto his lap.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He muttered in your ear as you began to shift uncomfortably on his lap. You had always hated how easy it was for him to manhandle you, to move you around; but, above all, you always hated how much it affected you, despite every attempt of yours to ignore it. It was like the words you said before were nothing to your body and mind.

You got quiet, and you could hear the movie he had put on behind you. The quieter you got, the calmer you got. Jude still held your waist on a tight grip, not wanting you to move nor leave his lap.

You shifted on his lap once again. Except, this time, you found yourself between one of his thighs, and your skirt and the thin piece of fabric protecting your cloth were doing only so little to avoid the friction, and you gasped before you could process it. Your boyfriend, of course, noticed it.

“You okay there, darling?” He asked, his cocky tone showing once again because he could tell where you mind was when your eyes met. “Aren’t you the one who always says sex doesn’t solve fights?”

You knew he was teasing you, but getting a rise out of you was always too easy.

“I swear to God—”

Jude chuckled, leaning his head against your couch and using his hand on your waist to move you around his thigh, guiding the moves your hips made and the friction of your covered cloth against him.

“Shh,” he hushed you gently in your ear. “Know how much you like it. Just shut for a second, alright?”

It was not like your body had any will to say no when he was moving you against his thigh so deliciously. Your head fell to his shoulder once the friction got to your clit, and that was when his hand began to slide lower down your body.

His fingers worked their way to your core, tossing your panties to the side as the fingertips of his middle and ring finger collected the wetness in your slit, teasing you up and down as you squirmed. You could already feel yourself panting, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, Jude or the meaningless argument. Perhaps a combination of both, considering how much, deep down, you loved when he shut you up.

“Can’t resist you when you wear those skirts around me.” He mumbled against your collarbone as he spread kisses. His fingers were now moving in circular motions against your clit, and your hips subconsciously moved to follow his movements. You whined in his ear, and he could feel his uncomfortable bulge growing on his pants.

“Jude—”

You didn’t even need to ask. Not when he knew what you wanted. Slowly, his two fingers were inside you, but he didn’t move them. You were more frustrated than ever – having his fingers inside you was better than nothing, but you needed him to move them.

“I won’t do a thing. You’ll have to ride them by yourself.” He whispered in your ear, and you moaned out of frustration and arousal. “And you’ll be really, really quiet.”

Before you could protest, two fingers of his other hand were inside your mouth. He moved them enough to make you gag, and your hips were moving again. At first, slowly, to see if Jude would do anything. When you realized you were truly all by yourself, you began to move faster, erratically and desperately, trying to find the right angle as you used his fingers. He watched as you squirmed and clenched around his fingers, and he wanted to fuck you so badly.

But he needed to teach you how to shut up at times. Maybe it’d stop the nonsensical arguments – though a part of him didn’t want that to change.

He curled his fingers inside you just enough to reach the spot he knew you needed, and you rolled your eyes back. When he noticed your moans getting louder, he sank his fingers further down your throat, and you rode him faster until you finally, finally came.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and chuckled once you crumbled down on top of him.

“You sound so much better when you’re quiet,” he joked in your ear as you tried to catch your breath. You whined when he took his fingers off you and led it to his mouth, tasting your juices like it was the last thing he would be able to do.

“Maybe I should stop arguing.” You agreed with him after a while, your eyes shut as you kissed his neck softly.

“You know,” he smirked. “If I get to shut you up like this, I don’t mind having you bitching in my ear at every 5 seconds.”

You laughed softly and rolled your eyes, leaning away just enough to stare into his beautiful, big brown eyes. At moments like this, you were sure there was no one else in the world for you but Jude.

“Dickhead.” You mumbled.

“Careful, smart mouth.” He smiled. “Because I’m not leaving any time soon and, as far as I’m concerned, I’m always very keen to shut you up.

[enwoso]

we are the champions | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

the highly anticipated one:) and a one long fic as people wanted. may do another one with the homecoming we’ll see

grumpy masterlist

the final whistle blew like a bullet through the lisbon sky.

arsenal women were champions of europe. for the second time.

alessia dropped to her knees on the pitch, emotion swallowing her whole. around her, the world turned gold, white and red, confetti blasting from cannons, teammates screaming, flares lighting up the estádio da luz in a halo of red and white.

they had done it. they had actually done it.

leah was the first to reach alessia, grabbing her in a bear hug, burying her face in her neck.

"we've actually done it," leah whispered, half-laughing through tears, the words feeling weird coming from her lips. "like we are actually european champions, less. what is life"

alessia laughed, clinging back as she placed a kiss to leah's cheek. "i don't think it's going to feel real for a few weeks."

leah smiled, eyes not leaving alessia's. the stadium behind them beginning to feel quieter, as if it was empty.

"i love you, less" leah whispered as she leaned i, slowly, like she wanted to give alessia the time to stop her — though they should have with the amount of camera fleeing around them but they both know they wouldn't. not in this moment.

leah's hand found alessia's waist, grounding them for a second while the other brushed gently against alessia's jaw, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.

their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft and steady, unhurried. leah kissed her like she was trying to tell her everything she felt but couldn't say all at once.

alessia melted into it, her fingers curling into the back of leah's jersey - not because of heat or urgency but because of everything underneath it. love. relief. the quiet certainty that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

as they pulled apart, foreheads touching as they stood smiling like idiots. their joy was interrupted by beth sliming into them like a human bowling ball, as caitlin followed in pursuit the two laughing and whistling widely.

not far behind was kyra and steph dancing as katie was stood ruling the fans up as they chanted louder with each wave of the arms.

and somewhere between all the chaos and celebration, alessia's eyes searched for her person, other than leah.

and then—there.

by the touchline, just behind the led boards and camera flashes, was a tiny figure in an arsenal shirt with matching shorts and socks.

you. just five years old. face painted with red and white stripes that your nonna had done this morning, your curls bouncing, big blue eyes wide with glee. on your back: RUSSO 23 in thick black letters.

you'd been waiting for the chance to see your mummy, having not seen her properly since she left for the flight to lisbon on friday, hugging her one last time before she left you with your grandparents.

and now here you were, bouncing in place, fists pumping in the air like you'd won the trophy yourself.

"MUMMY!" you shrieked. alessia was on her feet and running before she even knew it. you launched yourself forward like a cannonball, nearly knocking your mummy over with the sheer force of her hug.

"i saw you get you m-medal," you gasped. "and- and you got to touch the shiny thing"

alessia laughed as she corrected you gently telling you that the 'shiny thing' was the trophy, before kissing your face over and over. "you watched the whole time?"

"i only blinked for snacks! but i saw everything!"

leah arrived moments later having been pulled to do a short press interview, smiling so brightly it hurt. leah pressed a kiss to alessia's temple and ruffled your hair as you hugged your mama.

"rumour has it you led chants in the stands," leah said as you nodded proudly. "well at least that's what uncle gio is spreading."

"i did!" you nodded proudly. "also had to make sure nonna and uncle g were cheering loud enough!'"

alessia blinked before a chuckle escaped her lips, the scene playing in her head so vividly. "good, you keep them in check lovie."

the three of you barely had time to breathe before beth reappeared, chloe in tow, both of them wielding medals like party favors.

"there she is! wondered when tiny was gonna make an appearance!" chloe smiled as she ruffled your hair, the winger placing herself between leah and alessia.

you beamed and held your arms up dramatically. "auntie lolo!" as chloe took you from your mums arms you giving chloe a warm hug.

"alright, tiny," katie shouted from across the pitch, charging toward them with a wild grin and the champions league trophy hoisted above the irish girls' head. "let's keep the cheers goin'!"

before anyone could react, katie kelt down, hoisted you onto her shoulders, and took off in a jog toward the centre circle, yelling like she was leading a viking raid.

leah's hand went to her head. "she's on katie's shoulders. should we be worried?"

"probably. but katie will keep her safe," alessia smirked. "and anyways lovie is basically built for chaos."

from halfway across the pitch, katie shouted, "CHLOE! YOU'RE ON VOCALS!"

chloe, never one to miss a chance to celebrate— ran after the two of you , waving her arms like a conductor. "let's GO!"

suddenly the lisbon night filled with voices — well, mostly shouting and off-key singing — as you, katie, and chloe launched into the loudest, most off-beat rendition of sweet caroline the stadium had ever heard.

"SO GOOD! SO GOOD!"

"MEATBALL LINE!" you yelled instead of 'sweet caroline'

katie didn't blink before joining in. "YES, MEATBALL LINE!"

"STINA STINA STINA STINA STINA" chloe chanted as the song changed, the fans joining in as stina was pushed forwards by the girls.

"BLACKSTENIUS!" you and katie responded continued the chant both hands in the air.

"SHE SCORES THE GOALS!"

"she scored the gooooaaalllls!" you screamed, arms in the air

alessia was bent over with laughter and awe watching you have so much fun. "oh my god. she's high on sugar and glory." leah was already making a mental note to pre-warn your teachers about the post-title behaviour for the next time she dropped you off.

the performance ended in classic mccabe fashion: a dramatic twirl that nearly sent chloe crashing, a fake mic drop with the match ball, and you collapsing in theatrical fashion onto the turf where all the confetti was, giggling and yelling, "THANK YOU LISBON!"

katie knelt down and gently lowered you off her shoulders. "you alright, tiny?"

you nodded, cheeks flushed as the confetti covered you as it tickled your bare legs "when i grow up, i'm gonna be a footballer and a singer and also be you."

katie grinned and saluted you. "you can stick around kiddo!"

the team gathered for photos, pulling you into every single one like you had made the final assist.

you held the trophy with alessia and leah, getting the perfect photos which would litter christmas cards for years to come as you inspected the trophy, "mummy! this would be the perfect for my coco pops!" you pointed at the trophy which in the middle was bowl shaped.

alessia laughed as she ruffled your hair, your innocence being too cute. "i- i think it's little too big to keep in the kitchen cupboard, don't you?"

you frowned slightly but the thought was long forgotten as your name was being called by beth, you rushing after her as you managed to steal her medal and make kyra give you a piggyback as steph braided ribbons into your curls as beth stole her medal back.

but eventually, the stadium lights began to dim and fans started to drift away. but on the pitch, under the lingering lisbon stars, the russo-williamson family found a pocket of quiet.

you had flopped into your mummy's lap, shoes long gone, holding your mummy's medal like it was excalibur.

"you tired now, angel?" leah asked softly, as you lay your head in her lap, your legs stretching onto your mummy's the bottom of your socks stained green.

"mm-hmm," you yawned. "but 'm not gonna sleep."

"no?"

"i gotta remember everything so i can tell everyone at school that my mummy and mama won the champions league and i sang on tv and auntie katie nearly head butting the wall."

"but i didn't though-" katie yelled from ten feet away. "i was sliding as a champion should!"

"you would have if leah hadn't have been in the way" kyra added helpfully. you giggled, eyes fluttering closed as leah stroked your hair.

"m' gonna show them all my medal and say, 'this was from my mummy and also 'm famous now.'”

leah smiled, reaching for alessia's hand. their fingers intertwined, their medals glinting in the soft lights.

"we did it," alessia whispered the words still feeling so weird coming from their lips.

leah looked at alessia. then at you. then back at the now-empty stands that had roared for them just hours ago. "yeah," she said. "we really did."

a trophy. a daughter. a dream come true. and, of course — one unforgettable performance of meatball line.

⸻

the party was already in full swing when the lift doors opened to the rooftop venue.

lisbon sparkled below them like a dream wrapped in gold foil. music pulsed through the warm night air, the city celebrating with them, as though it too had been part of arsenal's historic win.

inside, the team were already letting loose — champagne flying, dj spinning early 2000s bangers, medals clinking like party jewellery. the champions league trophy sat proudly on a plinth, already kissed, cradled and used as a makeshift hat.

alessia stepped into the chaos with you on her hip, changed into pyjamas except you insisted on wearing your arsenal shirt. leah followed, holding three drinks and already tipsy enough to be doing finger guns at nobody in particular.

"alright," leah grinned, "who's ready to celebrate like champions?"

"MUMMY!" you gasped, pointing at the dance floor. "katie's got the trophy and she's using it like a guitar!"

"she's had one drink and decided she's freddie mercury," alessia muttered although she couldn't stop the smile on her lips from appearing.

you were off your mummy's hip in seconds, beelining to the centre of the chaos where chloe, beth and kyra were trying to teach manu the macarena. katie was indeed shredding the air guitar solo with the champions league trophy and yelling "what the hell, what the helly" every ten seconds.

alessia and leah made their way to a quieter corner where their families had gathered. hug after hug. proud tears. leah's mum handed them both drinks like she'd been preparing for this moment since the group stages.

"champion's league winner," alessia's dad, mario said for the third time. "so proud of you less.”

"hope to never hear the end of it," gio chimed in, grinning at his sister. "might have to buy her a crown next."

leah laughed, draping herself across alessia's shoulder. "please do. i'll get her to wear it to breakfast."

a few drinks later, you had turned into the unofficial dj mascot — bouncing with beth and chloe, singing along to every song you didn't know the words to with absolute conviction.

but eventually, you took a break and plopped yourself down in a giant beanbag near the edge of the terrace — curly hair wild, cheeks pink, arsenal medal which was your mummy's swinging around your neck like a gold dinner plate.

your uncle gio dropping down beside you with a packet of crisps and a smirk. you both watched the dance floor as your mummy and beth attempted a tiktok routine, failing gloriously. leah was waving her medal like a lasso as katie was dancing with the trophy in one hand and a cocktail in the other like it was her child.

"they look a bit silly, don't they?" gio said in a stage whisper.

you giggled into your fries. "mummy's doing the wrong arms. and auntie bethy is singing at the wrong time"

"they look like baby giraffes trying to moonwalk," gio nodded. "but with glitter."

"mama was dancing earlier and said 'oof my hips' like she was old."

"that's because she is," gio winked jokingly as you stopped mid drink of your juice.

you gasped like he'd committed treason. "mama is not! she just creaks a little."

the two of you carried on watching as chloe attempted to pick up kyra for no apparent reason and immediately stumble into a table. "this party's wild," you declared wisely.

"this party," gio said, "is what happens when you give medals to people with work hard all season long."

"i like it."

"me too. but i think mummy has just tried to conga with a sandwich."

you both clinked juice boxes like critics at a cabaret. you leaned your head onto your uncle gio's shoulder for a second and said, "i think i'm famous now."

"oh, no question," he said. "you're already trending. probably."

but even chaos has its limits. by around half eleven, levitating blasted through the speakers again, and you — not one to be left out of a final banger — launched yourself back into the dance floor for one more spin.

one jump. two twirls. a victorious hop. and then, mid-wiggle, you slowly... lowered yourself to the floor, curled into a cushion, and fell completely, utterly asleep.

face down. arms flopped out. medal still around your neck, one croc on, one croc long gone. just out cold, right next to the trophy stand, as if you'd clocked off from being a legend.

"she's down!" beth called. "star of the show has left the building!"

alessia was already on her way, laughing as she bent to pick you up. "alright, little dancer. time to cash in your medal and sleep like a champ."

you didn't even stir. just let out a tiny sigh and snuggled into your mummy's arms like you'd done it all — lifted the trophy, saved the day, sang sweet caroline, and roasted everyone in the room.

leah joined the two of you on the quieter part of the terrace. someone on the way handed her a blanket, which alessia has draped over you and alessia as you sat on a cushioned bench under fairy lights.

"you good?" leah asked, curling beside them.

"i'm knackered," alessia said. "but happy. she's had the best night ever."

"she was the best part of my night," leah said. "even when she called you a noodle."

alessia groaned. "that's gio's fault."

"but she's not wrong though." they both laughed, gazing down at you, their whole world— cheeks rosy, medal slipping sideways around your neck, dreaming gold.

lisbon glittered around the three of you. music still played, but softer now. the team still swirled in celebration. but here, in this little pocket of peace, everything felt still.

⸻

the terminal smelled like coffee and regret.

leah leaned against a check-in kiosk wearing sunglasses indoors and holding a bottle of orange lucozade like it contained the secrets of the universe.

her medal was still around her neck, her hair a little messy in a bun, and her voice about three octaves lower than usual.

next to her, alessia looked like she'd lost a fight with this morning and had accepted her fate. she wore an arsenal hoodie two sizes too big (possibly leah's) hair scraped into a messy bun, and the unmistakable glaze of someone running on two hours' sleep and a cocktail made by chloe in a the trophy.

but in alessia's arms: you, dead silent, wide-eyed, and attached to your mummy like a sleepy koala bear. your curls were a mess, alessia doing your hair on the bus into a bun as you were dressed in a fresh pair of pyjamas

"she won't let me put her down," alessia whispered hoarsely, shifting the you slightly in her arms. "i tried once. she just screamed 'no mummy forever' and latched onto my neck like a vampire."

leah snorted and then winced. "ow. laughing hurts."

you turned your head. "no laughing. only snuggling." a beat passed. then leah felt a soft tug at her sleeve. you reached for her with both arms. "mummy switch. i want mama now."

so the handoff began — slow-motion, careful, like passing a bag of eggs, you now firmly climbing onto leah's front, arms wrapped around your mama like a human scarf. alessia groaned and rubbed her shoulder.

"my child is a barnacle."

"you're her whole world," Leah said.

"she's a twenty-kilo world with sharp elbows."

around them, the rest of the arsenal squad began to emerge from the coach in clumps — zombies in various forms of hangover and tiredness, herded by a very tired club staff who looked one bad joke away from quitting football forever.

beth walked past muttering, "i need paracetamol, sunglasses, and god," holding a water bottle like it owed her money.

steph and caitlin were quietly arguing about whether they'd packed their chargers. kyra was just standing in the middle of the airport hood up and sunglasses on, like she'd either forgotten how to go about life or she was just stood up asleep.

katie stumbled toward sunglasses tightly on her face, carrying the trophy, a neck pillow and backpack across her shoulder. "i swear i had a suitcase," she said to no one in particular, instead just to anyone who would listen.

"you left it on the bus," chloe mumbled behind her, chewing gum and wearing two pairs of sunglasses stacked like goggles.

katie turned. "do i at least have my passport?"

chloe checked her pocket. "i think you gave it to the trophy." no one questioned that.

"alright, alright," on of the staff member called out, clapping their hands. "let's move, champions. you're elite athletes, not a hen do in dublin."

"speak for yourself," katie said, and immediately tripped over a suitcase.

you, still clinging to leah like a sleepy tree frog, blinked slowly and whispered, "why everyone broken?"

"cause we had fun," alessia whispered, gently tucking a curl behind your ear.

"too much fun?"

"never but just enough."

they eventually made it through security, where you refused to go through the metal detector without one of your mums. the airport security just sighed. it ended in leah carrying you through like a small, suspiciously sparkly handbag.

at the gate, the squad collapsed into chairs like a deck of cards thrown on the floor. headphones in. hoods up. sunglasses on. nobody speaking above a whisper.

the champions league trophy was in its own seat, secured with a seatbelt and guarded by beth like it was a newborn baby.

you finally agreed to sit across both your mummy's and mama's laps like a bridge — head on one, feet on the other — eyes half-closed.

alessia pressed a kiss to your forehead. "tired now, lovie?"

you nodded slowly. "my legs feel like noodles."

"you and me both angel," your mama murmured, gently squeezing your little foot.

across the aisle, katie was asleep on caitlin's shoulder, clutching a bag of crisps like a teddy bear. kyra had fallen asleep mid-text with her phone resting on her face.

and somewhere near the back, alessia exhaled, one arm wrapped around you, the other tucked into leah's. the flight hadn't even taken off, and already, she felt the weight of it all hit her.

the trophy. the dancing. the singing. the way you had shouted "we're the champions" into katie's ear while sitting on her shoulders. the way leah had held her hand the whole walk to the hotel, the two of them laughing at nothing.

it had been magic. and now, in the grey haze of the morning after, there was just this:

a team of sleepy champions. a tiny medal-wearing daughter. and the soft, breathy sound of the people she loved most breathing beside her.

"less?" leah murmured, half-asleep already.

"yeah?"

"if she falls asleep again on me and drools, i'm not moving."

"she's already drooling," alessia whispered gently.

you grunted. "i can hear you." and then promptly fell asleep again — cheeks smushed against leah's hoodie, medal gently clinking, safe within arms reach.

lisbon was behind them. the trophy was theirs. the memories were golden. and the hangovers?

totally worth it.

[gpcwsl]

Leah and others are speeding because they're late to training, reader is police officer and stops her. Reader is a no nonsense officer and seems serious and intimidating, has many tattoos and is built. Whatever you want after that 🫶🏽

Leah Williamson x Cop!Reader

Speeding

WC: 783

MasterList

Warnings: Strong Language, Reckless Driving, Law Enforcement Interaction, Flirting with Authority Figures, Mentions of Kinks, Mild Betrayal, Humor & Shenanigans, short?

Song: Playing Dangerous - Blue Shore

Leah Williamson was already having a terrible morning.

Her alarm hadn’t gone off (or maybe she just slept through it, but she refused to take the blame for that). Alessia had been knocking on her door for what felt like hours, yelling about how they were already late. Kyra was waiting outside, arms crossed, looking like she was deciding whether to kill Leah or just let Rénne Slegers do it.

And now? Now she was speeding down the road, foot pressed a little too hard on the accelerator, because if they were late, they were dead.

“Leah, slow down!” Alessia snapped, gripping the handle above the door like her life depended on it.

“Yeah, mate, I’d rather be late than in a ditch,” Kyra added, bracing against the dashboard.

Leah scoffed. “We’re already late. I’m just trying to get us there before Rénne decides we’re bench material for the next five years.”

What she didn’t notice—because she was too busy being stubborn—was the police car parked on the side of the road. The blue and red lights flashed to life the second she sped past, and Leah’s stomach sank.

“Are you serious?” Alessia groaned.

“You absolute idiot,” Kyra muttered, sinking into her seat.

“Maybe they’re not pulling me over,” Leah said, but as soon as she did, the sirens blared.

“Pull. Over. Now,” Alessia ordered.

Leah let out the longest groan of her life, slamming her palm against the steering wheel as she slowed down and pulled onto the side of the road. She didn’t look at Kyra or Alessia, but she could feel their judgment.

“You’re so dumb,” Kyra said under her breath.

A firm knock on the driver’s side window made Leah jump.

“Roll it down,” came a voice—stern, no-nonsense.

Leah turned her head, and—okay, well, this was unexpected.

The officer standing outside was… intimidating, to say the least. Your arms were crossed, muscles straining against the sleeves of your uniform.

The tattoos covering your forearms were the kind that told stories—intricate designs Leah wanted to trace just to see where they led. Your sharp gaze flickered from her to the rest of the car’s occupants, and for a moment, Leah forgot she was in trouble.

“Window,” you repeated.

Leah scrambled to roll it down. “Good morning, officer,” she said, flashing a hopeful smile.

“Licence and registration,” you deadpanned.

Leah swallowed. “Uh, yeah, one sec.” She fumbled around for her wallet while Alessia and Kyra sat in complete silence, staring straight ahead like they wanted no part in this.

As Leah handed over her ID, she swore she saw the corner of your lip twitch, just slightly, before you schooled your expression back into something unreadable. You looked down at her licence, then back at her.

“You in a hurry, Miss Williamson?”

Leah cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’re late for training.”

“You do realise speeding isn’t going to make that better?”

“I do now,” Leah muttered.

You sighed, glancing over at Kyra and Alessia. “And you two?”

“Oh, we told her to slow down,” Kyra said immediately.

“Multiple times,” Alessia added.

Leah shot them a betrayed look. “Wow, thanks for the support.”

You handed her ID back. “I should be writing you a ticket.”

Leah winced. “But…?”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “But I’m giving you a warning. No ticket. This time.”

Leah blinked. “Oh. Wow. Thanks, officer.”

You didn’t reply, just gave her one last look—one that sent an annoying shiver down her spine—before turning on your heel and walking back to your car. Leah sat frozen for a second, watching the way your uniform pulled against your back as you walked away.

When you got into your cruiser and Leah was sure you weren’t about to change your mind, she started the car again and pulled back onto the road.

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“She was so hot,” Leah blurted.

Alessia groaned. “Leah—”

“I mean, did you see her? The tattoos? The arms? The voice? I think I just developed a cop kink.”

Kyra gagged. “Oh my god, please shut up.”

“She could’ve arrested me, and I would’ve thanked her,” Leah continued, eyes still wide, voice filled with far too much admiration.

“Leah,” Alessia warned.

“I would’ve asked her to frisk me.”

“I’m jumping out of the car,” Kyra announced.

“I’m so serious,” Leah went on. “I might start speeding in this area on purpose.”

Alessia shot her a glare. “You do that, and I’m telling Rénne.”

Leah gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Oh, I would.”

Leah sighed dramatically, finally falling silent.

For a moment, there was peace.

Then, under her breath—

“Bet she looks good in handcuffs.”

“Leah!”

[tikitakatia]

Wrong Chat Capi! — A. Putellas x Reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: Alexia makes a small mistake when sending a suggestive text, chaos ensues.

Alexia is not usually reckless.

She's calculated and careful. A team captain and the kind of woman who triple-checks texts before sending them.

But today?

Today she’s feeling herself.

Post-training endorphins. Shower steam is still clinging to her skin. You’d sent her the photo right before she went for her shower. It was innocent, technically, but the way her hoodie hung off your shoulder, your thighs just barely showing beneath it? She'd lost all rational thought.

She opens the photo again and exhales sharply through her nose. The rest of the locker room is loud with laughter, towel snaps and music but all she hears is the blood rushing to her head.

And lower.

You didn’t say much. Just typed out:

“I miss you. Hurry up perezosa!”

Alexia quickly swipes to her camera. Then with her towel low, hips cocked and lips wet from biting them, she snaps a single photo of her: washboard abs, the hard line of her hipbone and her hand gripping the towel’s edge.

Then she types:

“When I get there, I’ll have you standing with your cheek pressed against the window, hands behind your back and begging loud enough that the whole block knows who you belong to. Hoodie stays on.”

Send.

There´s a few seconds of peace and then..

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, ALEXIA!!”

Mapi’s voice cuts through the locker room like a fire alarm and everyone freezes.

Alexia blinks in confusion and checks her screen.

She didn’t send the message to you.

She sent it to Barça Team Group Chat.

All. Twenty. Players.

“No. No no no no no.” Alexia groans. 

“Did she just? She did. Oh my God.” Irene’s already doubled over. 

“Cheek pressed to the window??” Salma gasps. “SHE WROTE THAT??”

“Hoodie stays on?” Ona shrieks. “This is a professional football club!”

Mapi’s on the floor, wheezing. “Capitana. CAPITANA. There are children in this chat!”

Alexia stares down at her phone in horror. Her towel threatens to slip as she scrambles to type.

[Alexia]: WRONG CHAT. DELETE THIS IMMEDIATELY.

[Patri]: She said ‘begging loud enough the block knows.’ I’m calling the mossos.

[Pina]: *gif of someone diving into holy water*

[Aitana]: I can't tell if I'm traumatized or wildly impressed.

Alexia slams her locker shut.

“I’m leaving the country,” she mutters.

“Leaving the planet,” Jana corrects. “Pack your things. Go to mars. I’ll cover for you.”

“The neighbors. THE NEIGHBORS?? Imagine looking out to water your plants and seeing Alexia Putellas, two-time Ballon d´Or Winner doggying someone while standing.” Irene cries out.

Then Patri adds a poll:

Mapi checks all of them.

And then your name lights up on her screen.

[You]: Nice aim, Cap. I mean, I’m flattered. But your team’s gonna need a lot of therapy.

She nearly groans out loud.

[Alexia]: I’m deleting myself.

Just when Alexia thought that it probably couldn't get any worse, it did. 

“I just…” Frido starts, frowning like she's trying to solve a 1000 piece puzzle. 

“I can’t believe she’s into that.” The room goes dead quiet.

“She’s been with you since what? 2019?” Salma says, already spiraling.

“I’ve literally seen her knit in public.”

“She brings muffins to away matches,” Ona blurts.

“Like. With napkins. Real napkins.”

“She once asked me if I needed help carrying my groceries,” Patri says.

“That’s not window sex energy, Alexia!”

Alexia hides her face in her hands.

“She’s the one who made that playlist for when we’re feeling anxious,” Aitana says, horrified. 

“Now I find out she’s out here steam-printing her ass on the glass like a decal?!” She shrieks.

“She taught my little cousin how to make pancakes,” Ingrid adds quietly. 

“And now I know she’s out here getting flipped like one.” She whispers in disbelief.

“I saw her organize your spice rack alphabetically,” Kika says. 

“That’s a woman who makes her bed every morning. That’s a woman who thanks the bus driver. That is not a woman who begs loud enough the block knows.”

“She sent me a TED Talk once,” Irene adds, staring at the wall. 

“About emotional intelligence.”

“She used to be one of us! Now she’s fucking window décor?!” Mapi’s already losing it.

“She offered me a lozenge after I lost my voice!” Ona yells. 

“A LOZENGE, ALEXIA.”

Alexia, still towel-wrapped, mutters, 

“She’s still the same person.”

“NO SHE’S NOT,” Mapi shrieks. 

“SHE HAS SAFE WORD NOW.”

There’s a loud thud as Salma dramatically drops onto a yoga mat. 

“I just remembered she made everyone custom Christmas gift tags. She used calligraphy, bro.”

“She has bookmarks,” Ingrid says.

“Physical bookmarks. She reads with a blanket.”

“She makes soup,” Frido whispers.

“Not from a can.��

“I’ve seen her wear matching pajamas,” Aitana adds.

“With socks. And now she’s being folded like a lawn chair?”

“She’s not just folded. She’s a mountable furniture.” Mapi wheezes, half-coughing.

Alexia doesn’t even fight it now. She just sits there, towel over her face, letting it happen.

Then Patri drops an image into the chat: Alexia, edited into the Titanic scene except instead of Jack and Rose, it’s her gripping the towel and you, face half-hidden, pressed against a fogged-up window with a caption that says: “I’ll never let go… unless it’s your throat.”

Mapi chokes and Pina types like her life depends on it, 

[Pina]: New idea. Barça Media Day, but every player has to answer one question.

Alexia doesn’t even look up. “Don’t.”

“Too late,” she says.

[Pina]: What does hoodie stays on mean to you?

[Aitana]: Someone take her phone. Take all our phones.

Patri strikes again, she sends a fake Google Calendar screenshot, zoomed in on Thursday evening:

🗓️ Event: Hoodie Stays On

🕒 Time: 8:30 PM

🪟 Location: Against the Window

💥 Guests: Alexia + You Ft. The Neighborhood

Alexia sits frozen, towel clutched like it might protect her from divine judgment. She's not moving. She’s not blinking.

“Why are you all like this?” she finally whispers.

“Because you sexted the entire team, Capi!” Mapi throws an arm around her, grinning.

And then comes the kill shot, Jana posts a fake book cover.

Title: Oh Capitana, Mi Capitana

Subtitle: How I Tactical-Fouled My Girlfriend Into A Glass Window

Cover: That cursed abs-and-towel thirst trap, filtered in soft vignette like a budget romance novel. The font was sinister looking with gold foil.

Alexia exhales like she’s aged ten years. 

“I need to go into witness protection.”

No one disagrees.

Later that night, Alexia gets home to find you exactly as she left you. Curled up on the couch, legs bare, the same hoodie hanging off your shoulder like a weaponized memory. 

You're holding your phone, clearly mid-scroll. Clearly reading the group chat.

You glance up, all fake innocence. “So… how was training?”

Alexia drops her bag with a dramatic thud. “I hate everyone.”

You smile. “Happens to the best of us.”

She groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Did you know they made a book cover?”

“I saw.” You pause. “Strong branding, honestly.”

Alexia just stares at you. “I sexted the entire team.”

You nod solemnly. 

She narrows her eyes, steps closer. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

You tilt your head. “You said ‘hoodie stays on.’ That’s iconic. That’s gonna be in the locker room forever.”

Alexia leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs, her presence suddenly a little heavier, darker.

“I should be mortified.”

“You are mortified,” you say, smiling up at her.

She kisses the corner of your mouth. “Yeah, but I still meant every word.”

Your breath hitches.

“Oh?” you ask, voice softer now.

“Still planning to follow through?”

She grins, wicked and unrepentant.

“Window’s clean, right?”

[pitchsidestories]

under pressure II Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

masterlist | word count: 1829

summary: reader takes it too far in training and must live with the consequences. But no one sees the pressure which is weighing down heavy on her young shoulders.

author's note: dear readers, the oneshot was inspired by this request here, enjoy. In this story Lucy Bronze didn't leave Barcelona. <3

Training had started two minutes ago.

You rushed onto the training pitch, throwing your school stuff down into the grass and quickly slipped into your football boots. You were silently praying to whoever would listen that you would get away with being late.

Right as you stood up and wanted to join the rest of the team, you heard your coachs’ voice from across the field: “That’s strike one, it better not get to strike three.“

You frowned at him. “I’m only two minutes late!”, you protested, frustrated because you had done everything possible to make it to FC Barcelonas trainings grounds in time.

“And she had school.“, Ona added quickly. She had stopped her warm-up to help you out.

You shot her a quick grateful look.

“She knows when training starts.“, Pere replied unusually cold.

You swallowed everything you wanted to say. That it wasn’t your fault. That your Spanish teacher hadn’t let you go at the ring of the bell and that you tried to make up for it by running all the way from the metro station.

You nodded slowly: “We can start now…“

“Good.“, Pere said, turning back towards the rest of the group.

You joined your teammates on the pitch, deliberately ignoring the quick look Ona and Lucy exchanged when they thought you didn’t see them.

You flinched when someones arm suddenly brushed against yours.

“You’re good? No trouble in school?”, Aitana asked you with concern in her voice.

“No, Tana, it’s fine…“, you replied, jogging beside her.

“I’m just asking. You know I can help.“

A small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. Aitana was always the first to offer her help with school stuff and while you didn’t need it at the moment, her asking meant a lot to you.

“Girls!“, Peres voice called them to the centre of the pitch where he explained your first exercise.

Twenty minutes later, you had your first drinking break. While you sipped on your water, you sneaked a quick look at your phone and quickly replied to a message.

Just your luck, you were caught breaking the team rules once again.

“Y/n!”

You looked up into Peres disappointed face and sighed: “Sorry, it was important!”

“No phones on the training pitch, you know that. That’s strike two.“

“But…“

You had no chance to explain yourself.

“You know that.“, he repeated.

Your frustration reached a new height. In your opinion, you hadn’t done anything wrong. They were small trivial things that didn’t interrupt training, there was no reason to make such a big deal out of it. Especially not after the day you just had.

“Oh, for fucks sake! I know but I also told you that the message was important!”, you exploded.

You and Pere seemed both surprised by the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“Cursing too?”, he asked with a sigh.

You only blinked at him in shock.

“That was very Lucia of her. You can tell she’s living at her place!”, Mapi burst out laughing next to you. You had no idea what was happening around you.

The confusion you felt was reflected in Lucy’s face who turned around to look at the defender from Zaragoza. “Excuse me what?”

“She’s got a point. It sounds like you.”, Ingrid agreed smiling.

“True. They even share a similar glare.”, Keira of all people added in a teasing tone. The English midfielder lived with Lucy and you when you rose from La Masia to Barcelona’s A team. Then they broke up and found new partners, yet you could still sense the mutual respect between them, and both loved you fiercely like you were their younger sister.

“I don’t care where she has it from, you know we’re not cursing on the pitch.”, your coach intervened growling.

“Sorry, I didn’t..”, you apologized trying your hardest not to cry in front of the team. No one should see the invisible pressure which was weighing down heavy on your young shoulders.

“That’s your third strike. Pack your stuff and leave my training.”, Pere demanded, his voice dripping with disappointment.

“Shit.”, you thought to yourself. This day really couldn't have gone any worse. The pitiful glances of your teammates made it even more terrible.

“Now.”, your coach waved impatiently.

 “We’ll talk at home, kid, okay?”, Lucy gave you an encouraging pad on the shoulder.  

“’ ‘Kay.”, you muttered under your breath.

After you left the training pitch, there was a silence hanging over the team which Ona broke first. “She seemed under pressure, so be nice to her later, Luce.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? Yell at her?”, her girlfriend snorted in disbelief.

“No, we can do that together.”, the younger defender offered kindly.

“Don’t worry, Ona. I know what I’m doing.”, Lucy assured her partner.

“Could the couples get back to training again?”, Pere requested grudgingly.

“Sure.”, the English player nodded.

“He’s in a bad mood today, huh?”, Mapi asked her while they were doing an exercise together.

“Weirdly, he’s.”, Lucy responded but her thoughts circling more around you than your coach. She had to find out what exactly was bothering you so much that you were acting out in training which you never did before.

Once you arrived at home you laid down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, unmoving, Narla, the dog snuggling on top of you, an hour had passed when you heard the turn of the keys, realizing absentmindedly.

“Oh, hi, Luce.”

The West Highland Terrier immediately jumped off to greet the English woman. You could hear her and Ona talking in the hallway, the Spaniard apparently went to the kitchen to cook coffee for the three of you.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you?”, Lucy asked concerned as you made space on the sofa for her, so she could sit on it too.

“Was he still angry at me when you girls left?”, you returned the question. With a weak smile on your lips, you corrected the older player. “Also, Oni said you should stop calling me like that I’m going to be eighteen soon.”

“I don’t care what Ona says, I’ll stop calling you that when you’re taller than me.”, she shrugged.

You couldn’t help yourself, you snorted at her comment.

“Rude! I’m the same height since forever.“

Lucy grinned: “Bad luck, kiddo.“

Laughing, you pushed her with your shoulder: “You’re so annoying.“

“Now tell me what’s going on with you today.“

Lucys question wiped the smile off of your face, the heaviness returned to your chest in an instant.

There was nothing for a moment, just the ticking of the clock in the background.

“The teachers said I’m good enough for university…“, you finally heard yourself say.

“What?”, Lucy asked, mirroring your exact response when you were told earlier that day. Your brain had screamed at you to be happy about it, that your hard work had payed off and you might be able fulfil your wish of studying. But at the same time, you were filled with dread and worry about the future. There were so many thoughts at once, they were impossible to disentangle.

“But no one in my family studied before…“, you voiced one of your biggest concerns.

You were surprised to see Lucy looking back at you with a relaxed expression.

“Stop overthinking it. This is amazing and you will do great!”

“What? You think so?”

Lucy gave a single, impatient nod: “Yeah of course I think that. If I could do it, you can do it too.“

You let the warmth of Lucys words wash over you.

“Do you think they would be proud of me? My parents?”, you whispered into the silence.

Navigating life was hard enough and it had only gotten harder when you had lost your parents a few years ago. Graduating and going to university might be two other milestones in your life that you wouldn’t be able to share with them.

“I’m sure. At least we’re all proud of you.“, Lucy replied unusually soft.

Ona joined the two of you on the sofa and pulled you in for a hug: “That’s true. God, you’re so smart. Smarter than me at your age.“

“But you’re smart too, Oni.“, you smiled into the crook of her neck.

“Yes, but not book-smart like you.“

“Still.“

Once Ona let go of you, you could breathe a little easier.

“So tomorrow we’ll explain everything to Pere. But for now, Lucy, would you…?”, Ona said.

“Would I what?”

You blinked at her innocently, completing Onas question: “Start cooking?”

Laughing, Lucy ruffled your hair: “Yes, I’ll make your favourite food.“

“Thank you.“, you smiled.

“You’re welcome.“

A year has passed since you had the meaningful conversation with Lucy and Ona. Through the help of your teammates you did succeed, even graduating with honours.  This would open many doors for you which you were incredibly grateful for, you certainly didn't take higher education for granted.

To celebrate your big achievement the team prepared a little party in the cafeteria.

“Congrats.”, Pere gave you a warm handshake.

“Thank you.”, you smiled happily.

“You did it.”, Ingrid beamed at you.

 “We’re so proud of you.”, Fridolina added in awe.

 “Proud indeed. Well done, y/n.”, Alexia congratulated, pulling you into a hug so you couldn’t see her teary eyes. But you noticed them even though she tried to hide her emotional state from you.

“She’s all grown up now.”, Mapi commented delighted before she hugged the two of you who were still standing in the middle of the room. Once you released each other you could feel the heat in your cheeks from all the attention you received.

“She’s still a kiddo to me.”, Lucy threw in with a very pleased smirk on her face.

“Hey, you heard Mapi though.”, you protested.

“Pretty sure you’re still not taller than me, kiddo.”, she countered laughing.

“Does that mean you’re a kid too because you’re smaller than Irene and Alexia?”, you asked her in a teasing tone.

“That’s not what I said.”, the English defender replied.

“I’m just following your logic here.”, you told her. Apparently, Lucy didn’t find an adequate answer to your observation as she swept you off your feed and carried you on her shoulder.

“Shut up.”, she chuckled amused.

“Let me down!”, you urged the older woman giggling.  

“Forget it, kiddo.”, she shook her head.

“Ugh. Girls help me!”, you groaned.

“Lucia, put her down. No injuries today please.”, Pere ordered.

“You heard him.”, you whispered.

“Lucky for you.”, Lucy responded while your feet touched the ground again.  

“Time to celebrate.”, Ona smiled.

“It’s so sweet of you guys to have a party for me. I wouldn’t have done it without all of you.”, you noted deeply moved by the effort your teammates had put into it.

“You deserve it, enjoy.”, Alexia hummed.

“Thank you.”

You knew you could always count on them, and they could no matter what count on you.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[futbolfatale]

Bad Call

MasterList

Pairings: Alpha Leah Williamson/Omega reader

Based on This Request

Blurb

Everybody knows rugby is an aggressive game made of hard tackles. But Abby Dow was getting on your last nerve. Sure, she is supposed to defend, but there is no need to take you down so aggressively.

There should have been a red card called, but the refs seemed to be on England's side the entire game. You could take a tackle, but you're going on tackle number five, and with your Alphain the crowd, you want to be able to play through the entirety of the game. It was rare that your mate ever could attend one of your games. Your schedules seemed to contradict each other more often than not.

Rugby was a sport mostly played by alphas, and for years, omegas had been banned from playing professionally. The England team was made exclusively of alphas, and this seemed to make them more aggressive and full of themselves. It comes as no surprise that Abby tackles you again. It seems her normal level of aggression until you hear a crack. Then the pain follows, and you know whatever she landed on is broken, and you'll be out for at least the rest of the season. You let out a scream as Abby pushes off of you to stand. Moments later, a medic is at your side, and you are loaded onto a stretcher. They carry you off the field and straight to the office for an examination.

It only takes a couple of minutes for your Alpha to join you in the cramped room. “Are you okay?” Leah asks, pushing past the doctor to be by your side, “I’m fine, Leah just got pushed around a bit too hard.” You reach out to pull her closer by the waist. “She better be getting suspended for this. There was no reason for her to tackle you like that.” Leah nuzzles into your neck, trying to use your scent to calm down. “She’ll get suspended. But you have to remember this is a game of tackles, babe. It’s like the whole point,” You run a hand through her hair, trying to soothe yourself as much as you can. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

[mysunshinetemptress]

Never Have I Ever

Barca Femaní x Teen Reader

The bright lights of the makeshift studio were starting to give you a headache, but the end was in sight. Media day. A necessary evil, as your coach called it. Hours of posing, smiling, answering repetitive questions, and generally trying to look like you weren't about to collapse from boredom. But this, the final task, was different. This was the fun part.

You, Jana, and Patri were standing shoulder to shoulder, each holding a light-up paddle. The paddles were programmed to cycle through different colours – red "I haven't" and green "I have" - the task was simple Never Have I Ever. A classic icebreaker, but with the added element of flashing lights and the potential for some embarrassing revelations.

The camera crew stood before you, along with a couple of team media personnel, all grinning with anticipation. One of the media guys, a young, energetic guy named Marco , held a microphone and a clipboard.

"D'acord, senyores," Marco said, his voice amplified by the microphone. "A punt per jugar una mica Mai ho he mai?"

Jana bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nascut llest!"

Patri gave a small, polite smile. "Fem-ho."

You nodded, trying to suppress a grin. You were usually quite reserved, especially for a teenager but there was something about the silly nature of the game that loosened you up.

"Vale, I'll start," Marco said, consulting his clipboard. "Never have I ever… accidentally called my coach 'Mama' or 'papa'."

Jana's paddle immediately flashed green. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "ay dios mío, it was awful," she said, laughing. "It was during training, and I was so tired, and I just blurted out 'papa!' He just stared at me, and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole."

Patri’s paddle remained red, as did yours. You’d always been careful to keep your interactions with the coach strictly professional.

"Vale, next one," Marc continued. "Never have I ever… snuck out of team curfew."

Jana’s paddle flashed green again, eliciting more laughter from the crew. "Vale, Vale, I was young and foolish," she admitted, raising her hands in surrender. "It was just to go get ice cream! It was worth it."

Patri’s paddle stayed red, and you hesitated for a moment before pressing the red button on your own paddle. You’d never been one for breaking rules, even now as the other younger girls tried to entice you.

"Muy bien, Y/n, estás despierto," Marco said, turning to you with a smile. "Never have I ever… forgotten my kit bag for a match."

Your paddle flashed green immediately. You winced, remembering the frantic scramble to borrow spare kit from a teammate just minutes before kickoff. It had been a stressful experience, and one you’d never forget. It was your first time playing at a more senior level at La Misa and the older girls kit nearly swallowed you whole.

Jana and Patri both laughed, their paddles red. "Oh, that's a classic," Jana said.

The game continued, with Marc reading out a mix of team-related and more general "Never Have I Ever" statements. Some of the questions were funny, some were slightly embarrassing, and some were surprisingly revealing.

"Never have I ever… cried after a loss," Marco read.

All three of your paddles flashed green. You all shared a knowing glance. The pain of defeat was something you all understood intimately.

"Never have I ever… pretended to be injured to get out of training," Marco said, grinning.

Jana’s paddle flashed green instantly. Patri and you burst out laughing. "That's definitely Jana," Patri said, shaking her head.

Your paddle and Patri’s stayed red. You were both too dedicated to the sport to ever consider faking an injury. Your idolies wouldn't do it so why would you.

As the game went on, you started to feel more comfortable, more relaxed. You were laughing and joking with Jana and Patri, sharing stories and making fun of each other. The tension of media day had completely dissipated, replaced by a genuine sense of camaraderie.

Finally, Marco announced the last question. "This is a big one," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Never have I ever… had a crush on a teammate."

Jana’s paddle flashed green immediately, followed shortly by Patri’s. You hesitated for a moment, a strange feeling fluttering in your stomach. You glanced at Jana and Patri, who were both looking at you expectantly. You took a deep breath and pressed the green button on your paddle.

A collective gasp went up from the crew. Jana and Patri’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Ooooh," Marco said, his voice full of intrigue. "This is getting interesting. Care to elaborate, Y/n?"

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, but you managed a small smile. "It's nothing serious," you said, shrugging. "Just a little…admiración"

Jana winked at you. "We've all been there," she said, laughing.

The game ended shortly after, and the camera crew began packing up their equipment. You, Jana, and Patri lingered for a moment, still buzzing from the fun of the game.

From the moment you left the makeshift studio, the “crush” revelation became the team’s new favorite topic of conversation. It wasn’t malicious pestering, more like playful teasing and genuine curiosity, but it was relentless.

In the changing room after training, Jana would nudge you with her elbow and whisper, “So, spill the tea! Who is it?” Her eyes would twinkle with mischief as she waited for your reaction.

You’d blush and try to deflect the question, saying things like, “It’s no one important,” or “It was a long time ago.” But Jana wouldn’t give up easily. She’d launch into a guessing game, rattling off the names of various teammates, coaches, even the team’s physio.

You hope it stays between the three of you, you admition to having a crush on a teammate but of course its Jana and Patri and that hope is short lived.

The speed at which the news spread was almost comical. It was like wildfire, fueled by the team’s insatiable appetite for gossip. Within an hour, it seemed every single member of the squad knew about your “little admiración.” You could practically feel the collective gaze of the team on you, a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and knowing smiles.

It wasn't long before Mapi, the team’s resident prankster and self-proclaimed expert on all things love and romance, cornered you in the locker room. She bounced on the balls of her feet, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“So,” she began, nudging you playfully with her elbow. “Tell me everything! Who’s the lucky lady?”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Mapi, please,” you mumbled. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Are you kidding? This is huge! This is the kind of drama we live for!”

She launched into a series of rapid-fire questions, rattling off names of various teammates, coaches, even the team’s groundskeeper. You tried your best to deflect her inquiries, offering vague answers and changing the subject whenever possible.

“Come on, Y/n,” Mapi persisted, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just give me a hint. Is she tall? Short? Does she have a good sense of humor? Is she a good passer?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her relentless questioning. Mapi was like a dog with a bone; she wouldn’t let go until she got what she wanted.

Just as you were about to give in and offer a meaningless clue to appease her, Ingrid, the team’s captain and voice of reason, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She placed a hand on Mapi’s shoulder, pulling her away from you.

“Mapi,” Ingrid said firmly, her voice laced with a hint of warning. “Leave her alone.”

Mapi groaned dramatically, but she reluctantly backed off. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I’m not giving up that easily.”

Ingrid turned to you, offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about her,” she said. “She’s just being Mapi.”

You nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Ingrid,” you said. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Ingrid replied. “Just let me know if she gets too annoying.”

But shortly after Mapi it moves to Esme and Vicky.

Esme and Vicky, the team’s dynamic duo, were next. They approached you during lunch, sliding into the seats opposite you with matching mischievous grins. They were known for their close friendship and shared sense of humor, often finishing each other’s sentences and communicating through inside jokes.

“So, Y/n,” Esme began, her eyes twinkling. “We’ve heard some… interesting rumors.”

Vicky nodded in agreement, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Something about a certain… teammate?”

You sighed, bracing yourself for another round of questioning. “It’s just a silly crush,” you mumbled, picking at your food. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, we beg to differ,” Esme said, exchanging a knowing glance with Vicky. “This is major news! We need details!”

They launched into their own version of the guessing game, their rapid-fire questions overlapping and intertwining. They were like a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other’s thoughts and building on each other’s jokes.

“Is it someone in the midfield?” Esme asked.

“Or maybe a forward?” Vicky suggested.

“Perhaps a defender?” Esme countered.

“Or maybe,” Vicky said, pausing for dramatic effect, “it’s the coach!”

You choked on your water, sputtering and coughing. Esme and Vicky burst out laughing, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Okay, okay, we’re just kidding,” Esme said, patting you on the back. “But seriously, Y/n, we’re just curious. We want to know who’s captured your heart.”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. You trusted Esme and Vicky, but you were still hesitant to share such a personal detail.

“It’s… someone I admire,” you said finally, choosing your words carefully. “Someone who’s really talented and dedicated.”

Esme and Vicky exchanged another knowing glance. “That narrows it down to about half the team,” Vicky said dryly.

“But seriously,” Esme added, her voice softening. “We’re just happy for you, Y/n. We want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” you said, offering them a genuine smile. “I appreciate that.”

You thought you’d weathered the storm. The relentless teasing had subsided, replaced by the occasional knowing glance or subtle nudge. You’d even started to relax a little, believing the “crush” saga was finally behind you. But you were wrong. So very wrong.

The team bonding night was a tradition, a chance for everyone to let loose and have some fun outside of the pressures of training and matches. This time, it was a casual gathering at a local karaoke bar. The atmosphere was buzzing with energy, fueled by loud music, flashing lights, and the general excitement of being off-duty.

You were initially hesitant to go, still reeling from the media day fallout. But Jana and Patri had insisted, assuring you that it would be a good time and that the “crush” topic was officially off-limits. You reluctantly agreed, hoping they were right.

For the first few hours, everything went smoothly. You laughed and sang along to the music, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the company of your teammates. You even managed to belt out a surprisingly decent rendition of a classic pop song, much to the amusement of Jana and Patri.

But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed, the atmosphere became more boisterous and the conversations more… revealing. And, inevitably, the topic of your “admiración” resurfaced.

It started innocently enough. Someone put on a cheesy love song, and a few of the players started jokingly serenading each other. Then, Mapi, never one to let a good opportunity pass her by, grabbed the microphone and announced to the entire bar, “Okay, everyone, let’s dedicate this next song to Y/n and their secret crush!”

A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the team. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You shot a pleading look at Jana and Patri, but they just shrugged apologetically, their faces etched with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

Mapi, oblivious to your discomfort, continued her impromptu dedication, adding fuel to the fire with a series of suggestive comments and playful innuendos. The team roared with laughter, egging her on.

You wanted to disappear, to become invisible, to escape the intense scrutiny of the entire team. You felt trapped, exposed, your privacy completely violated.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, Esme and Vicky, fueled by liquid courage and a shared sense of mischief, decided to take the stage for a duet. They chose a popular love song and, as they sang, they began pointing and gesturing towards various members of the team, adding their own commentary and inside jokes.

Still you don't crack not until Alexia comes and wraps her arm around you.

So,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “I hear you have a little… admiración for someone.”

You blushed furiously, but you couldn’t help but smile at her teasing tone.

“It’s not a crush,” you mumbled, shaking your head slightly. “It’s more like… respect. I really admire her talent and dedication.”

“Oh, I see,” Alexia said, nodding thoughtfully. “So, it’s not someone on the team?”

You shook your head again, relieved to finally be able to talk about it openly, even if it was with Alexia, which was still incredibly nerve-wracking. “No,” you said. “She plays… out of Spain, actually.”

Alexia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, really?” she said. “That’s interesting.”

She paused for a moment, considering your words. Then, a slow smile spread across her face. “Well,” she said, her voice warm and encouraging. “Admiration is a wonderful thing. It can inspire you to be better, to push yourself further.”

You feel your cheeks reden, you can't hide it anymore and the fact your about to tell her ex girlfriend is ironic "Its Jenni."

“Jenni,” Alexia repeated, the name rolling off her tongue. Her tone was even, giving nothing away. “Jenni Hermoso?”

You nodded, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of red. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you. You were confessing your admiration for Jenni Hermoso, a player widely considered one of the best in the world, to her ex-girlfriend. The universe definitely had a sense of humor.

A brief silence hung between you, punctuated only by the off-key singing from the stage and the general chatter of the bar. Alexia’s arm remained around your shoulders, a comforting weight, but the atmosphere had subtly shifted.

“She’s… a fantastic player,” Alexia said finally, her voice measured. “Incredibly talented.”

You nodded again, finding your voice. “She is,” you agreed, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’ve watched her play for years. Her technique, her vision… it’s inspiring.”

You found yourself rambling slightly, trying to fill the awkward silence. You talked about Jenni’s incredible goal-scoring record, her ability to create chances for her teammates, her influence on the game. You were so focused on avoiding any mention of the personal connection between Alexia and Jenni that you almost forgot who you were talking to.

You pause waiting for Alexia to shout at you for having a crush on her ex girlfriend but instead she tilts her head back and laughs "Oh Mi Amor, Im so telling her next time i see her thats so cute."

You shove her away slightly but immediatly pull her back as she whips out her phone and starts typing, out of everyone Alexia just might be the worst person you could have told.

[strawberryblue-blog]

if you are taking requests can u write one where since gavi as been bulking up recently and his arms are literally huge reader is obsessed with his new physique and complements him and he gets all shy and complements her too just loads of fluff basically

So strong —Pablo Gavi.

summary: request.

warnings: none. cute, soft, fluff, jokes.

words count: +1.2k

Your eyes glide over the letters of the paragraphs of the book you were holding in your hands while listening to the shower in the background, your boyfriend had just arrived from his dinner with his teammates and had gone to take a shower before coming to bed.

Tonight you had decided to stay home in bed all day while you caught up on your reading, which you had abandoned a few weeks ago. You listened as Gavi came out of the bathroom, as you felt the shower stop and came all the way back into the room, moving around.

You were reading quietly when your gaze lifted from the sheets and focused on your boyfriend's bare back. You froze for a few seconds as you noticed his tense, tight muscles and marked muscles on his pale skin, feeling an electric current run through your body. Your eyes were slyly darting around the room following your boyfriend as he rearranged his workout bag and folded his clothes, looking for room in his closet. You bit your lip as you watched his muscles ripple with every movement he made. As he raised his hands, his strong muscles were perfectly in view and made you sigh in love.

Gavi had been training hard since his injury, he spent day and night in the gym trying to build up his muscles and killing the time he was off the court, now his work was showing and he had been truly admiring. He had become much stronger, his back wider and more muscular, his arms had increased in mass, his neck wider and harder and also his abdomen had taken on more shape.

He really did look fucking sexy.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he turned and saw you lost in him.

You finally blinked shaking your head. You smiled slightly at him and he approached the bed with a smile. You shyly put your head back down to the book and tried to resume your reading but it was impossible when you felt him take your attention. He climbed up the front of the bed, starting to crawl over the mattress until he was close to you.

"Hi" he murmured flirtatiously when his face was close to you.

Your hands let go of the book, resting it on your chest and you cupped his face in your hands.

"Hi handsome" you greeted.

His lips kissed yours softly for a few seconds, quiet, soft and warm. It was like a greeting kiss, you hadn't seen him so much this day and you had missed your boyfriend while he was out.

His body lay on top of your legs, lying between them and making room on your belly covered by the sheets. He smiled as you broke apart from your kiss and you bit your lip as you saw his back on you, his naked torso pressed against your body and you could see from above his muscular back.

The urge to feel his skin took over and you sighed as you admired your boyfriend's work.

Your hands slide down his neck gently caressing his whitish skin, to start moving down his broad back, feeling under your fingers his beefy muscles warm from the shower he had just taken.

"Your muscles have gotten stronger" you whisper as you feel her hard skin. Gavi looks up and smirks.

"Was that what you were seeing when I asked you?" he asked laughing.

"Yes, I was shocked" you laughed with him.

"You were drooling" he mocked again. And you opened your mouth in offense.

Of course you were. Your boyfriend was perfectly sensual and his body was a work of art, like any good person you would admire his work and die for it.

Gavi long a giggle at the sight of you and hugged your belly again, while your fingers kept leaving little touches along his skin. Intertwining his moles as if they were stars, joining them as if you were drawing patterns on his skin. Pablo sighed in relief as he felt your fingers gently caressing him, he was relaxed on you, calm and expectant. His eyes relaxed, enjoying the path of your warm touches on his skin as his arms wrapped tighter around your body, pulling you in.

"I was actually imagining something..." you whisper after a while caressing him, pretending to be flirtatious. Gavi opens his eyes curiously and lifts his head back up to you.

A small smile appeared on your lips and his confused gaze watched you constantly, waiting for your answer.

"I was thinking about... what it would feel like to be strangled by those arms" you murmured bringing your hands to his arms.

Gavi opened his eyes hiding a mischievous smile but he was a bit surprised to say.

"So strong, so muscular... so hot" With each word you were squeezing his arms a little tighter and speaking with a certain hint of sweetness.

Her gaze becomes a little more shy as you notice his processing your words, with a little redness in his cheeks. It was probably the craziest thing you've ever said and it also embarrasses you. A nervous little laugh leaves your lips and Gavi shakes his head laughing.

"You naughty little girl" he says playfully with an amused look. "What things have you been reading lately baby?" he teases again, trying to take the book to your chest but you held it tightly with a laugh.

His laughter gets a little louder as you raise your eyebrow with a grimace and laugh too. Your hands continue to wrap around his skin as his hands take the book from your chest and he closes it, pushing it aside.

"So you really want me to hang you?" he asks when your eyes look up at him.

You smile shaking your head but you didn't say yes or no.

"Just a thought" you joke with a grimace.

Your cheeks are turning redder but you are no longer embarrassed. It was clearly a joke to take advantage of the moment but you were really enjoying your views.

He lets out a laugh again and your stomach churns with joy. Hearing his laughter is like your favorite song and seeing him so happy makes you proud. Your hands return to his face and you admire it in detail, his relaxed face is a work of art.

"I knew you'd like to see me like this but I didn't think you'd fantasize about me hanging you" he says teasingly again and you squint, pretending to be offended.

But then you smile proudly.

"I'm proud of you" you murmur sincerely. "You've gotten so strong, honey"

All kidding aside, you were proud of her work. Gavi had been preparing for his return to the court and you were really glad he was finally able to overcome his injury, he was destined to be a great player. His mentality, his body, his heart. Watching him deal with an injury as complex as the one he had was like watching him grow and you're so proud that Gavi was able to pull through and become even stronger. He is ready to come back and show the world who he is.

"Thanks to you, baby" Gavi whispers as his nose gently makes contact with yours. "I'm stronger because of you"

A huge smile appears on your lips and spreads it to your boyfriend. His eyes take off little bright sparkles that make you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Show me how strong you are?" you ask somewhat amused, wrinkling your nose.

"Delighted" he replies also laughing again and giving you an accomplice look that makes you shiver.