#tomorrow best football matches

[lovieku]

INTRO ⋆ 정국

you’re jeongguk’s secret santa this year, so you give him the best gift he’ll ever receive.

⋆⁺₊���. 1/6 from christmas & chill

pairing virgin!jk x fem reader

genre smut, fluff, friends to lovers, first time

warnings painfully oblivious jk, even more painfully oblivious oc, mutual pining unlike anything you’ve seen, jk being a hot nerd ceo who’s loaded rich and unaware of his potential, please imagine him as nam joohyuk in start up, oc just creaming her pants for jk, hand job, lowk strip tease, dry humping, nipple play (m&f), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, jk is so needy and impatient but also very polite, smut is kinda rushed because well… it’s his first time! sawrry! also i open gifts on xmas eve please don’t come for me and my traditions (it’s lich just because i’m impatient)

word count 8.3k

author’s note hello hello hello!!! i’m so nervy to post this because it’s what finally inaugurates c&c!!!! i hope it can be a pleasing (intro)duction to the series hehe… either way you’ll get something totally better from miss lyssa tomorrow so stay tuned Wink 🩷 luv u always

banner by the talented @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

Secret Santas have become the only way you’ve been able to deal with Christmas. When it comes to gift-giving, you’re embarrassed to admit that creativity in that department doesn’t exactly come naturally to you.

You try your best, truly. But you either end up going over budget, striving to please all your loved ones with unnecessarily expensive gifts which will only leave you with empty hands and an empty wallet, or having your brain completely stop working, if not to come up with the most basic and useless options that will get you forced smiles and polite nods in fake recognition.

It’s exhausting, demoralizing, and frankly, a recipe for holiday burnout.

So when two years ago, on the brink of giving up entirely and seriously contemplating hibernating through winter, your dear friend Jimin swooped in and suggested Secret Santa, it completely reshaped your next Christmases.

Exactly a month before Christmas Eve, you reunite over drinks and food at Jeongguk’s house to draw names. His place always ends up as the default spot for dinners, movie nights, or even football matches. Those don’t usually get the attention of everybody, especially of some of the girls, and it wouldn’t get yours either.

But you never skip game night. Correction, you never miss an excuse to be in Jeongguk’s space, even if it means sitting through 90 minutes of men chasing a ball on a screen. After all, you’re never truly paying attention, always stealing glances at the boy who seems almost even more uninterested than you.

It’s about witnessing him in his house— which, truthfully, is more of a mansion. The spacious, cozy interiors mirror a part of him that’s hard to miss: his perfectionist side, the one that likes to keep things understated but can’t help leaving subtle, telling marks of his presence on everything he touches, is woven into every corner.

Over time, you’ve naturally come to associate the place with holidays, laughter, and celebrations that fill you with a sense of belonging. Being here, surrounded by your closest friend, makes you feel profoundly grateful.

And there’s so many traces of you all, too. The faint wine stain on Jeongguk’s carpet that is only still noticeable if you squint, the one that spilled from your glass when Hoseok’s jokes had you laughing too hard; the long, slim scratch on the kitchen door, courtesy of Eunbi, who thought learning how to balance glasses on her forehead would get one of her coworkers to finally fall for her; the wobbly vase on the coffee table that was knocked over during one of Jimin’s overly enthusiastic attempts to kick a water bottle open.

Watching Jeongguk deal with the chaos you all force into his space might be another big reason why you love being here. It seems to squeeze out his most genuine reactions and quirks, and you can’t help biting your lips at those, almost pornographically so.

For someone who works so hard to appear composed, and who’s also extremely shy and reserved, Jeongguk is hilariously transparent when things don’t go his way. Brows furrowed, as if that’s where he keeps all his control. Although, no matter how flustered he gets, Jeongguk almost never gets choleric. His instinct is never to lash out but to scramble, a picture of barely contained stress insisting that everything is fine.

And the more he insists, the more you find yourself wishing it wasn’t fine. Sometimes, you want to see him lose it— especially at you.

You’ve tried, too. You’ve pushed boundaries, done little things to test the limits of his patience, all for the slim possibility of seeing him crack, just for you. But it never works. The best you get is an awkward smile, maybe a quiet laugh. It’s not nothing, but it’s not what you want, either.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this crazy about someone before. Not in the way where everything he does sends your brain spinning with possibilities. It’s maddening. His obliviousness is maddening.

Chiefly tonight, when you’re trying extra hard to keep it under control, the whole group gathering in a circle around the bowl that holds all your names, each one carefully folded into a little square, waiting to be drawn.

But when your slim fingers brush against one of the many crumpled pieces of paper and decide your fate, you send a small prayer to whoever might be listening. Please, don’t let it be Jeongguk.

It doesn’t really come off as a coherent request, especially considering how much your body has betrayed you tonight. Your thighs have been pressing together most of the evening, a subconscious reaction every time your gaze wandered — lingered — on Jeongguk’s lower half. Those low, slouchy grey sweatpants, hanging effortlessly off his narrow hips, have been the source of many inappropriate thoughts that you wish would make you grow some shame within yourself. Instead, they only make you grow hotter in your seat.

No, you would love to be Jeongguk’s Secret Santa with the blatant, embarrassingly huge crush you have on him. You think you’d be happy about it in any other universe, except this one.

Jeongguk is difficult. And not because he’s ever been argumentative, looking to start quarrels, never willing to agree or see past his nose. He’s far from those. He’s one of the easiest people to be around, rarely judgmental, even when you were drunk off your mind and you jokingly grinded on very-gay Jimin to make up for your lack of sexual activity. On those occasions, you didn't exactly see judgement in his eyes. Just reticence. Maybe. It wasn’t clear.

What is clear is that Jeongguk is incredibly particular. He’s picky about what he likes and even more so about what he doesn’t, though dislike might be too soft a word. When he hates something, it’s impossible not to know. He doesn’t even try to mask his disappointment.

It’s not malicious, of course. He’s not the type to be spiteful. It’s just how he is, an open book, his expressions giving him away without fail.

It’s one of the many reasons you love watching him, other than hoping your eyes would telepathically convey your undying desire to fuck him and cuddle him close to your chest afterwards. But most of the time, studying the shifts in his features is a way for you to decipher what he’s thinking.

And that’s why this moment feels so high-stakes. The last thing you want is to be on the receiving end of one of Jeongguk’s polite smiles or barely-there nods of acknowledgment, the kind he gives when he’s unimpressed. It would crush you, the ultimate failure in your short-lived career as a gift-giver.

It’s not just that he’s hard to please. Jeongguk is also the last person who seems to need anything. He’s loaded, his success as a game developer has afforded him a life where anything he wants is within reach. And yet, despite his wealth, there’s no arrogance about him. If you didn’t know him so well, you might think he was just another college student scraping by.

Who else but Jeon Jeongguk could walk around in a hoodie and square glasses, looking like he just rolled out of bed, while being the CEO of his own company?

But, of course, none of this is important. Because as you unfold the piece of paper in your hand, it’s there. Jeongguk.

You don’t think you enjoy Secret Santa as much anymore.

With the bowl continuing its journey around the circle, you spend the rest of the game staring holes into the back of Jeongguk’s head, desperately trying to figure out what in the world you could possibly get him. Your monthly budget feels laughable in comparison to his lifestyle, but you’re already prepared to go way over it if that’s what it takes to impress him.

You wonder if he’s as insecure as you are when he quietly unfolds the small, paper square he picked up and scans the name. His bug eyed expression doesn’t hide an evident surprise, the twitch of his eyebrows managing to conceal a possible disappointment.

For someone who’s usually so easy to read, Jeongguk seems uncharacteristically guarded in this moment, and it drives you crazy. You squint at him, frowning as you try to decipher any small detail on his face. Is he annoyed? Or worse, completely indifferent?

Either way, it doesn’t look like a positive reaction. If it ends up being you, you’ll rethink back to this moment and cry yourself to sleep.

With the first step out of the way, the night goes on following its usual rhythm. Only by the end of it, Jeongguk’s space starting to empty, you quietly help him put some order to the mess left behind by a too drunk Hoseok paired with his too drunk best friend Taehyung.

You keep yourself busy with storing some leftover food, managing to keep your tone unbothered when you ask, “Hey, Gguk. Wanna help me with the party planning this year?”

Always obliging to your every request, he only stutters slightly in his movements, the glasses he was cleaning clinking together. He clears his throat, “S—sure. I’ll help you, goldie.” The stammer doesn’t seem to be caused by any kind of hesitation, just an usual consequence to his nature. Reserved, quiet.

You nod, gulping way too loudly at the special nickname he has for you, and both of you keep your focus on your doings instead of witnessing the faint blush dusting your cheeks, “Cool. I’ll text you the details tomorrow.”

Details texted, your efforts to divert the conversation into something remotely playful failed miserably. Jeongguk is painfully formal, methodical as ever, hyper-focused on the party. When you sent him a TikTok you deemed adorable enough to nudge him toward a different matter, maybe hint at the dog being the cutest thing he’s ever seen and that you two should definitely adopt three of them and move in together, he still doesn’t get it.

gguk🤍: Oh… I asked my brother to keep Bam for Christmas Eve. I thought he would be too much of a hassle, especially with Iseul not being fond of dogs.

You had stared at the ceiling for a long moment after reading that text. Jeongguk is endearingly dense, and you don’t mind it most of the time. But it’s starting to cause quiet bursts of frustration when it comes to whatever undefined thing you two have, and what is clearly simmering for the eyes of everybody to see, except his.

You’d thought giving him his first handjob when he quietly confessed he’s never been touched, his voice a tremble in the calm aftermath of a chaotic group sleepover, would be enough to make him see. His quiet whimpers were hypnotizing calls that only you were meant to hear, and your fist pumping his girthy length with intent was speaking all you were afraid to voice.

Jeongguk came hard and unannounced all over your hand, pleasured sounds muffled in the side of your neck, and you’d assured him it was okay; he did good; that you would get something to clean him up. You didn’t sleep that night, and he didn’t either, spending the rest of it next to each other on his couch talking pointless conversation.

If that hadn’t opened his eyes, you were beginning to wonder what would.

“So… Do you have any idea what to gift your person?”

Jeongguk stirs his latte for the fourth time. You’d decided to meet at a café halfway between your cramped flat and his mansion, because it was the easiest way you managed to make your busy schedules merge.

“No, Gguk,” you acknowledge his question without meeting his eyes, focusing on the grocery list on your laptop instead.

What would? You’re starting to think subtlety isn’t cutting it. Maybe it never has. Perhaps the only way to break through that frustratingly thick skull of his is to go full throttle, strip naked right here in the middle of this café and spell it out for him.

Your eye involuntary twitches at the thought in relation to his question. Crazy Christmas gift, you reason as you stare maniacally at your bright screen. Yeah. Totally crazy.

Shaking your head, you can’t resist glancing up at him. The idea doesn’t seem so irrational anymore, not when your insides twist at the sight of his absorbed expression, his brows furrowed as he scribbles out unheard-of maths on a piece of paper to figure out group expenses.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you abandon your pretense of being productive and let yourself watch him work. A teasing lilt slips into your voice as you prod him in your usual way, “Why should I believe you already don’t know who it is?”

He blinks up at you, promptly, like he always does when you speak to him, and he stumbles, “Huh— I don’t—”

“You so do. You probably already guessed it all with your nerdy brain.”

Despite looking mildly offended, his ears turn red anyway, “Nerdy brain—”

“Glasses look cute on you,” that shuts him up; his mouth, his brain. Completely unable to cater to any of their functions.

You smirk at the way he diverts his gaze, pointer finger unconsciously fixing the specs on the bridge of his nose, and you wonder how much longer it’ll take for him to notice that you don’t just go around calling everyone’s glasses cute.

Sighing, you continue, “Anyways. It’s not you.”

“W—what? Is it really not?” When he looks up at you with even wider eyes, you feel bad for lying to him but you still shake your head. He mutters, “Shoot. I was so sure I had it.”

A playful scoff escapes you, “See! You did sit in your nerdy room and tried to guess!”

“Stop calling me a nerd,” it’s a request grumbled in the most adorable way you’ve heard, and there’s no real heat behind it. Especially when he goes back to be exactly what he doesn’t want you to refer to him as, “Well, if it’s not me, it must be Taehyung.”

You pretend to busy yourself with your touchpad as you ponder on his eagerness. Then, you voice the result, “What’s the fun in knowing right now?”

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment too long before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess it makes me less anxious.”

It’s a raw kind of honesty, much like what he was painted all over with when he came from your touch, and it has you shifting your gaze back on him, now absorbed in doodling stylized portraits of Bam right next to numbers and additions.

You don’t know if it’s the hot chocolate still simmering in your tummy, the warmth from the coat laying on your legs, the café’s natural heat or Jeongguk’s proximity, but you buzz with something homely.

Ariana Grande’s version of Last Christmas replays for the third time in a row, and at this point you’re starting to believe it’s a conscious choice, but you don’t mind it.

Jeongguk belongs to the world the soft melody is building, hugged by a woolen white sweater, the wide glass window behind him giving the perfect view to a classic winter scenery, snow softly resting on any surface it finds and unconsciously bringing magic to dullness. Or maybe it’s just him adding that last bit.

You smile at his small confession, reassuring with your tone, almost drowning in the lively chatter of the place surrounding you, “You don’t have to be.”

Jeongguk only nods, tapping the pencil on his temple as he studies what he has so far with sudden doubt. He looks at your laptop, scanning the long forgotten visual board on your Pinterest, then back to his calculations.

Giving one more glance at the screen, he concludes, “By the way, I really don’t think that color would look good in my living room.”

Ugh.

You think you want to strangle him when he deflects so easily from these moments. And mostly, the burgundy he’s so easily refusing happens to be one of your favorite shades. Do your tastes ever match?

God, as much as you want him, you hope he’s not your Secret Santa.

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Jeongguk is your Secret Santa.

And on Christmas Eve, he’s pacing the length of his living room back and forth, his socks brushing against the polished wooden floor with each step. You’re supposed to arrive any minute now to help him with the final touches before the others come for dinner, and the idea of having you here alone is enough to make his hands clammy and his thoughts stumble.

The neatly wrapped gift with its shiny red paper sits tucked under the towering Christmas tree, the one adorned in messy decor that his friends jumbled up together. The item hidden inside the bag doesn’t share his anxieties, though he suspects his downstairs neighbour might have caught on to it with the incessant pacing.

When you ring the doorbell he’s jolted out of it and, practically tripping over his own feet, he rushes to the door and yanks it open. He would have let you in just as rapidly if his brain didn’t stop short at seeing you standing there.

You’re cladded in a soft sweater that looks two sizes larger, its beige tones complimenting the warm brown of his own jumper, and your short skirt peeks out beneath its hem, edged with lace ruffles. At your feet, a pair of chestnut Uggs that he can only hope are enough to make up for the cold shivers on your bare legs. Not that he’s staring, so intently he has to gulp down an impulsive thought. No, he’s just a naturally observing guy.

And that brings him to notice that your hands are empty, save for a small purse and a bottle of wine. No bag, no box, no sign of a gift.

When his gaze flickers back to your face, your eyes are wide and darting nervously between his own, narrowed by the frown that he can’t quite hide but bug sized the moment he catches a trace of insecurity in your shaky voice, “Hi.”

It could be the cold causing the brief greeting to tremble, small snowflakes laying on your neatly styled hair, shimmering for a brief moment before melting away. It pulls him out from his unabashed study of you, and he steps aside to let you into his much warmer space.

Your vanilla scent inebriating his senses has him forgetting all about your seemingly non existent gift, and how he suddenly finds himself wishing he truly did get something messed up in his calculations, that you’re not his Secret Santa.

But you are.

Many drinks later, filling up everyone’s stomachs along with shared food and belly laughter, it’s time to exchange gifts and the expression on your face is unlikely anything he’s caught on so far.

A huge contrast to the mellow Christmas tunes indistinctly playing in the background, your eyes are impassive as you word your excuses, “I’m sorry, Gguk. I forgot your gift at home.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” he says quickly, the words spilling out with genuine ease. And it really is okay. He’s not upset— far from it. The thought of you giving him anything at all, even belatedly, is enough to make him feel content.

But now, as the group’s attention turns toward him, his heart races for an entirely different reason. His gift for you, a lavish, over-the-top gesture that far exceeds the modest budget they all agreed on, sits waiting on his lap.

When it finds a new home atop your own crossed legs, you’re eager as you rip the paper, but your eyes don’t follow your movements. Instead, you focus on the nervous boy sitting across from you, your very own Secret Santa who’s monitoring your hands for you while subtly rocking from one side to the other.

His anxiety is endearingly soft, but you can see something more to it, almost an irrational fear of tripping on the wrong step, messing up something that’s supposed to be simple.

You hear it before you see it. The whole room inhales sharply in a collective surprise, with some gasps muffled behind hands pressed to mouths. You scramble for an explanation in their expressions, jumping from one face to the other, stopping on Jeongguk’s own, gaze glued to his fidgeting fingers, head bowed down to his lap.

When you slowly look down at what’s resting on yours, you almost wheeze. If they could, your eyes would leap out of their sockets.

Your palm instinctively presses on your lips as you look between the gift and the gifter in a frantic attempt to catch any sign that this is not what it is. With the music being the only sound eerily filling the sudden silence, you add to it, even if barely, with your voice a whisper, “What is this?”

Jeongguk gulps and finally meets you, “It’s m—my gift for you.”

It’s not like you even opened it yet. But the simple sight of the box had you grasping for support. On the pale, textured surface of the square box, the unmistakable gold lettering is what’s making your orbs shake in confusion: Dior.

You trace the sign with your pointed finger, tilting your head up to look at Jeongguk through your lashes, and you don’t know how else to put it, “Ggukkie… Were you there when we set the budget?”

Jimin butts in with a scoff, “Yeah, that’s like fifteen thousand won multiplied by another fifty thousand.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what he should say. He’s scared of the deafening silence that follows, the way Jimin’s comment seems to linger in the air, the way you seem to struggle with finding something to say in response.

He begins, tries to, “I—”

“Fuck, Gguk,” the simple sound of your words has his mind spiralling, palms clammy with doubts that question his every choice leading up to this moment, feeling foolish for even thinking this could be right, a shot worth trying. What if you think he’s showing off? Or worse, overcompensating?

But what he fails to notice is the toothy grin that follows your shameless surprise, your fingers gingerly lifting the lid of the box, and really, if only he had the courage to look up at you he’d have avoided the worries.

He misses your reaction at the reveal: the prettiest earrings sit on a soft cushion, gleaming gold with delicate CD initials and cream pearls dangling gracefully beneath them.

“These are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I love them. You didn’t have to.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He meets your face painted with the most beautiful grin he’s ever seen you wear, your cheeks burning with red and your nose scrunching as you carefully slip the earrings to take a better look at them. With you, everybody else around him seems in awe, too. Their soft, endeared whispers begin to fill the earlier suffocating silence, melting into a sweetness reserved entirely for Jeongguk.

He exhales quietly, the welcomed warmth in his chest replacing the cold. He admits, no stutter, no fear, just a sheepish smile, “I wanted to.”

Jeongguk really did want to. It felt like his one shot. A desperate, last-ditch attempt at making you see him the way he’s always seen you; a declaration wrapped in gold and pearls.

He wants you to see him as more than the shy, awkward boy who stumbles over his words and blushes too easily. More than the nerd who spends too much time working on equations and codes half the world doesn’t know about. More, just to have you look at him a bit closer.

He wants to be a man, one who badly wants you, in your eyes.

They’re gleaming with adorable excitement as they flicker back to his, sheepishly accompanying your quiet request, “Can you… put them on for me?”

Jeongguk is at your side in no time, handling the earrings with care while trying to keep his usual clumsiness at bay as he fastens the dainty jewels in place. He begins to understand why it’s hard to see him as anything else but gawky when he feels his heartbeat speed up from the simple way his skin is brushing against yours.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the spell, playful, “Oh, what a pretty princess. Jeongguk truly has an eye for this stuff.”

With the group following with chuckles and mindless banter, Jeongguk feels uncharacteristically bold, gaze fixated entirely on you as he lets himself spill something meant for you only to hear, “I think it’s just you. You’re beautiful.”

You’re clearly caught off guard, and it stings a little when he realizes the only reason he doesn’t get to see you this flustered often is because he’s usually busy being the flustered one. Blinking up at him through your lashes, your laugh comes out a little breathless, and the sweet way you let your cheek rest on your shoulder has him daring to hope.

“Nerd.”

But no. There it is again.

That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

He forces a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but you’re too engrossed with having your pearls admired by the rest of the group to notice. Those weren’t a waste; he would do it all the same. You deserve everything that makes your eyes shine, that brings the corners of your lips into that grin that shakes him, that can ever bring you joy. He just wishes it could bring you more than that; bring you to a bigger sentiment, a bigger realization.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t shake off the awful mood that pervades his senses throughout the rest of the night, the earrings hanging from your ears catching the twinkly, warm lights and mocking him with delighted amusement. There’s nothing else you can do, you nerdy boy.

Perhaps that’s also why, when the house starts to empty and you’re in his kitchen making yourself helpful with dishes, he slips on composure when you accidentally let a glass slide from your dainty hands.

It breaks the moment it meets the ground, and the sound penetrates his ears, both of you jumping at the impact. He hisses, “What— what the heck, ___!”

You’re startled, blinking up at him. It’s not the chaos from the glass, not its tiny pieces covering the floor and reaching your feet. It’s the deliberate frustration of his tone, one he’s never let free, especially with you.

You pant for apologies, but they can’t seem to be let out. Wide eyes jumping between his own bug ones, your brows draw up in shame. It has never been this easy to get him bothered. Hell, you’ve even struggled to.

Jeongguk only sighs, dragging a hand across his nape, and he regrets the quiet sharpness in his voice the second he lets it out, “God. Be more careful next time.”

He’s still quicker than you on his feet, moving to sweep the mess you���ve created before you can even react. You seem to move in slow, infinite motions, kneeling down to pick up the bigger pieces, all while keeping an unusual silence.

He steals a glance up at you, biting his lower pierced lip in sudden guilt, “Are you okay?”

Your hands pause, clutching a fragment of glass as your eyes flicker up to meet his. You nod, distant, and it does nothing to convince him.

He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to your hesitant confirmation, rather he’s hyper-focused on your fingers, and before you realize the shift in his expression, he alarmedly blurts out, “Goldie. You’re bleeding.”

The sting barely registers for you until his words bring it to your attention. Looking down, you see a sharp, red line running across your finger, small but enough to make Jeongguk spring into action.

You’re lifted off the floor and ushered to the bathroom in fractions of seconds, letting yourself be handled like you don’t own your body. The only thing you want to be aware of is the switch in his behaviour. He’s back to normal once he’s in his quiet bubble of concentration, movements precise as he cleans the barely visible wound and carefully places a band aid over it.

All while he can’t stop apologizing, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. That was not your fault. But, this. This is my fa—”

“Jeongguk, it’s just a scratch.”

The way he meets your eyes with his face drawn tight and brows furrowed makes you rethink your statement. Maybe it’s more than a scratch. Maybe it’s the only thing that snapped him out of his frustrated daze.

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t deserve that.”

Your first instinct is to giggle; it’s a resonance of the butterflies childishly swarming in your belly from the proximity and his careful words. Both your gazes soften as you accept each other, even the faulted versions of tonight, and a timid smile stretches over his lips.

You hesitate before speaking again, your mouth opening only to close, reconsidering your words; but then you finally let out what you had foolishly planned as your next desperate attempt to cling to him.

“Can you… My car is… Can you take me home?”

What you’re now sure you like the most about Jeongguk is how he caters to your needs before you even have to voice them. The soft kindness in his eyes, the way his body instinctively shifts to act before his mind even fully processes the request. He’s already nodding, ready to make it happen for you.

“Yeah. Of course.”

The heat in his car fans over your cheeks, dusting them with a soft red that has his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he turns to steal glances at you at stoplights. You keep talking, filling the air with contentment about the night’s events, and it’s like that subtle slip of his never happened.

It’s almost too easy to surrender and pretend that everything is fine, that he doesn’t feel the ache of wanting more. If staying a nerd in your eyes means getting to be this close, to hear your laughter, to see the slight curve of your lips as you speak, then maybe it’s enough.

His subtle gestures — adjusting the temperature so you’re comfortable, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter when your giggles spill into the cabin — don’t go unnoticed. They settle into you and have your heart beating anticipatedly.

God, you won’t regret what you’re about to do.

By the time he pulls up in front of your place, you promptly turn to him before he can offer anything else, voice a bit too eager, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Huh—”

“I’ll show you my gift.”

Jeongguk sits on your couch, because you tell him to wait there. And of course, he’s a great listener. Very obedient, willing to follow your every order.

His fingertips drum restlessly on his thighs and he can only busy himself with his surroundings, every detail speaking for you. What’s definitely more prominent is the intoxicating scent of vanilla that clings in the air, of which he hopes his lungs inhale the entirety of, never getting enough of everything that is you.

When you come into his vision again, walking down the stairs in quiet steps, you’re tightly hugged in a trench coat, the textured belt cinched snugly around you and accentuating the small of your waist. Under it, your legs are bare. It has his mouth drying and his legs spreading stiffly on the couch.

He thought he got better at hiding his concerning infatuation. He hopes he did.

That’s why he initially manages to chuckle and attempt a joke, “Are you going somew—”

“Ta-da.”

Jeongguk doesn’t think he’s breathing. He doesn’t think he can even breathe anymore. His blinking fastens, brain stumbling over itself as it tries to make sense of what he’s sitting in front of.

You’ve loosened the coat just enough for the fabric to fall and reveal what you’ve carefully wrapped for him. You’re a gift coming in a red lingerie set clinging to your perfect curves, your boobs deliciously spilling out from the sides of your lace top and the line of your panties thin enough to leave little to the imagination.

He pants, scanning over your body once, twice, three times, questioning if the wine was perhaps laced with stronger substances, “What— What is this—”

“It’s my gift for you. Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

Meeting your face again, he nearly groans. You’re almost bare before him, yet you still sport a crimson blush and your teeth graze your bottom lip in a sheepish smile, in a way that is so achingly you. He can feel himself throbbing painfully in his pants. Thinks he could cum just from this view, tip over the edge without a single touch, no matter how bad he needs it.

“Fuck.”

You’ve barely ever heard Jeongguk curse throughout the time you’ve known him for. He only sometimes reserves that for his monitor, Overwatch games causing his composure to slip in adorable loud whispers.

But it’s like you’ve broken his dam, and he only lets more slip as you walk slowly but certainly closer to him, coat discarded on the floor, “Oh my, fuck. Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you. I— I don’t know what to do.”

It’s a quiet plea, the one that’s hidden in his strained words but clear in his full eyes glazed over with anticipation, his hands hovering uncertainly over his thighs, chest still heaving and struggling with manual breathing. He’s begging to feel deserving of this, to have you prove to him that it’s what you truly want for the both of you, to have you touching him and to be touching you.

He can’t help the moan that escapes him when you position yourself in between his spread legs, bodies close yet not touching, but he’s dying to feel you.

Now your turn to bend at his every request, your head tilts and your smile widens the more he’s forced to crane his neck up to keep your gazes connected, pending off your every syllable, “You don’t have to do anything. Will you let me take care of you?

“Yes, please,” the confirmation is immediate and empty of hesitance. Under you, Jeongguk nods promptly with his lips agape, watering with want when you straddle his lap to sit yourself on him.

He wails, throwing his head back and searching for all the strength it takes from holding back his instinct to snap up against your core, snuggled atop his raging hardness. At his shameless desperation, your giggles fill his ears, and when they’re followed by your cold hand on his cheek redirecting his gaze on yours, he feels feverish.

Delirious, eyes barely keeping from rolling back, his brain reduced to senseless blabbering, “My God. Thank you for this.”

With his brows adorably drawn up, he focuses on your dilated pupils now that your faces are mere centimetres apart, and you close the distance with small pecks that trace his jaw, up to his ear lobe, whispering against the skin, “Are you seriously thanking God while I’m about to take your virginity?

Jeongguk hisses in a frenzied surge, his hands still unsurely keeping from touching you, and your sarcastic pun has him full on rambling, “Shit, sorry. I don’t even believe in God. This just feels too good to be true. You look like a fucking angel.”

“Ggukkie, language!” Your seductive tone along with your chuckle reverberates right against his chest, your hands moving to lead your own palms up and down his broad front, and when you subtly roll your hips against his clothed length, he breaks into a cry.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ll come so soon,” you don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of the moment, but you’ve never witnessed such a bold Jeongguk. It only spurs you further, your hand traveling down, and down, until it sneaks under his sweater.

When you find his nipple, you playfully roll it between your pointer and thumb, his trembling body bucking up in an unstoppable urge, quiet whimpers working to keep his tone down. But you want to hear him scream under you, just as loud as you can feel his heart beating.

You bite your lip as your eyes drift downward, watching where your bodies meet in slow, teasing drags. His wide palms press into the cushions on either side of you, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and when you lift your gaze to meet his face again the delicious buzz pooling low in your stomach intensifies, your lips parting instinctively. A pretty blush creeps up his neck, painting his sharp jaw and cheekbones in shades of red, and his eyes, clouded, desperate, and burning with unfiltered need, lock onto you with a gaze that makes your knees weak even as you straddle him.

The simple grinding through the layers of clothing you still have on has you releasing whiny gasps in the air, his cock sliding torturously between your folds, and if you’re so affected by every shift you can hardly fathom what he must be feeling under you.

So you wonder out loud, voice rough the more you feel his stiff nipple under your fingertips, “How long since you’ve been touched properly, hm?”

His body hiccups, shaking with the barely contained lust, “Since— Since you last did, goldie.”

You coo, slowing down your movements and bringing your fingers to the hem of his jumper only to lift it and toss it behind you carelessly, “You’re so sensitive, aren't you?” At the view of his exposed chest, you can’t help roaming the expanse of it and feeling the tensing muscles under your skin, and by now you’re sure your panties must be ruined.

“Puh— please,” the plea is barely coherent, whispered out messily through high-pitched moans, but he begs again, “I wanna touch you too.”

“Then…” You let your hands speak for you, moving them to lead his own big ones to rest at your thighs, letting them drag up the curve of your ass. You’re impossibly close to his lips now, fanning against them, “Feel me, Gguk.”

Unable to resist, you fall forward and catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that struggles to find a rhythm, that has your tongues tangled in an uncoordinated dance, but that inevitably has you both humming loudly in an effort to almost devour each other, and his hands digging in your bare skin only force a gasp out of you.

In an impatient rush, you urge him to unclasp your bra, his unpractised and shaky fingers being joined by your experienced ones to finally free you from the tight confines, and as much as he wants to make kissing you a sport just to win every gold medal and break record after record, he can’t help separating from your lips with a wet sound to look down at your exposed breasts.

Jeongguk groans, and this time he doesn’t need you guiding him. It’s his own palms moving to cup you, and the innocent, light feather touch causes you to throw your head back and resume your slow grinding on top of him.

Both of you are panting messes, his moans significantly louder the more he gets to knead at your softness only to slice his thumb over your hardened nipples, the contrast making his brows furrow in hazed need, and when you arch your back into him he squeezes your tit to his mouth, eliciting a surprised wail from you.

Even when he gets closer, your sensitive nub engulfed by his swollen lips, he keeps looking up at you for approval with wide, teary eyes that beg for you to praise him. And with a hand gripping his wavy locks, you nod repeatedly for him to keep going, “Fuck, baby. Just like that, oh my God.”

He hums lowly with his mouth stuffed, his fingers digging in your flesh the more you drag your cunt mercilessly over the outline of his thickness, and he has to release you with a pop and rest his head on the couch behind him, palms keeping you somewhat still by the waist, panting out a desperate request when he feels himself throb dangerously close to his high, “G—Goldie, I can’t. Don’t— Don’t wanna cum like this.”

You lift your hips just enough for the both of you to whimper at the loss of friction, and you murmur through a string of kisses along his exposed neck, “How do you want to cum then, huh?”

He only whines, cheeks flushed with want and eyes glossy, forehead creasing with the way his brows are stressing, “Please.”

You show no mercy, flashing him with a wicked smirk and a teasing tilt of your head, “Ah-ah. Say it.”

Gulping with effort, his waist twitches up unconsciously to seek for your touch once again, and with his face turned to the side he admits in the smallest voice, “‘Nside of you.”

“Good boy. Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He voices a loud cry just from the sound of your promise, only echoing more intensely when you hastily work at his zipper. It’s messy, uncertain, and it elicits breathy giggles from the two of you, drunk on adoration and high on desire.

Eventually, he’s stripped free from his confines, and his cock stands proud and hard, veins pumping the blood that has it throbbing against his toned stomach.

Jeongguk can feel your hooded eyes on him, can sense his tip wettening with the simple way you seem starved and eager to taste him, your hand coming too close to where he needs you the most before he gently grabs your wrist to stop it.

Automatically, your head snaps up, and the look on his face is one of nervous desperation, ��Wan’ you to kiss me, please.”

You’re ready to comply to his every demand, and this one is as easy as it gets. You want to give him everything— whatever he wants, however he wants it.

Your lips mold with his in worldless acceptance, absorbing all you were afraid to voice to each other, making up for all the time you wasted, devoting to a sealed promise, the one that dances between your connected tongues, saliva making it wet and breathless.

Even more when your slim fingers trail down his torso before wrapping around his length, your wrist expertly flicking in a teasing touch, and his moan is unrestrained as it tears through the kiss. You swallow the sound greedily, steadying you against his chest rising and falling in frantic pants.

Before he can protest, his own hips bucking up in a silent beg for more, you steal the air from his lungs when you move your panties to the side and align your entrance with his tip, just to sink down on it.

The drag is slow and it has both of your eyes rolling back, pleased groans filling the air and straining against your throat when you fully sit yourself wrapped around his dick. You search for him, “You okay?”

“Shit,” Jeongguk seems hypnotised by the view of his thickness wrecking you in half, and his palms come to rest at your waist where his fingers dig into the skin. Your own playing with the hair on his nape only seem to make him more vulnerable, “This is perfect. You feel so good and warm, fuck.”

You’re not used to hearing him curse so openly and so often, and it naturally makes you giggle, the sound tickling his ears and leading his dilated pupils to look up at you through his lashes. Your sweet laughter fades into a lasting smile, one he can’t help but kiss, even if it’s all teeth, the contagious sight of your happiness getting to him too.

The moment is sickeningly sweet, bodies connected in more ways than one. With your kiss only deepening and your chest melting against his, you pull him impossibly closer by the back of his neck and start attempting slow motions on top of him.

You hear him through his thundering heartbeat, “Goldie… I— I don’t think I can last any longer, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Oh, shit, baby,” one particular shift has his length, deeply stuffed in your tight walls, finding your spot and teasing it with an electric buzz that travels through your body, “It’s okay. I’m so close too.”

The moment you try a firmier bounce and feel him find you again, you can’t help the way your movements fasten, your moans thick and low against your throat, his own louder and ricocheting through the walls.

You steady yourself with one of you palms on his thigh, leaning your weight back and finding a new angle to fuck yourself on him. He watches in awe as you work your fingers on your clit, rapid circling movements causing his mouth to hang open at the squelching sounds.

He pants, his wide hands guiding your riding, pushing you up and down, “Can— Can I touch you?”

You hum, but it sounds more like a whine, “Hm, of course, pretty boy,” the hand that was stimulating your sensitive nub now comes behind you to help support yourself on both of his muscular thighs, flexing under every shift.

Jeongguk is unpracticed as he leads his thumb to rest at your clit, applying a soft pressure and mimicking the same pattern he observed from you. He only seems to be focusing on his doing for the first few moments before he searches up for the reaction on your face, and he whimpers when he finds your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, your brows drawn up in pleasure.

You smile at the unconscious twitch of his chin, and give him just what you know he wants, “Always seeking my approval. You’re so good.”

The simple praise only has him working on you with more confidence, collecting some of your wetness and sliding it up along your lips. He learns fast, listening to your every sound and centering on your pleasure, as best as he can with his own knot getting closer to bursting.

You’re clearly affected by the simulations, your hips stuttering and riding around him, but you still make sure to concentrate on him first, “I’ll tell you when to cum, hm? You’ll listen to me, right?”

Jeongguk nods before he even knows what he’s agreeing to, “Y—yes. Yes, yes, fuck. I’ll be good. Wanna be so, so good for you. Wanna c—cum for you.”

“You’re so filthy, baby. Naughty boy. Fuck me.”

His hips meet you up with harsh thrusts that have you lose your balance on him, and you can only throw yourself with your arms around his broad shoulders, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he lets his desire take over, fucking up into you with a desperate need for release.

You think you see stars with the way he relentlessly pounds your hole, wet folds sliding along his length and causing a mess between you, his own slickness mixed with yours trailing down and pooling at the base. The sounds are inglorious, and they merge perfectly with your wails.

Breathing in his scent, you know he’s close from the way his thrusts are stammering sloppily, and his moans are closer to strained whines. You concede, “F—Fucking cum, Gguk. Cum inside me, fuck.”

He nods, slamming you down to meet his movements, desperate to feel you before he can stop himself, “Cum with me, pleas— Oh.”

When your walls spasm around him with your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, causing you to shake in his embrace around you, he feels himself cum unannounced, hard and thick, sprouts of white liquid relentlessly pumping inside your warmth.

You milk him dry, both your wails drained with the effort and fading into breathless gasps, his arms around you falling limply at his sides. You’re sprawled on his chest, emptied from any energy, and he is just as spent with his head lolling against the back of the couch.

But you feel it in your heartbeats syncing, the realization of what happened, what finally happened. You feel it in his face moving down to find your lips and catch them in a sweet peck, his fingers trailing up again to trace lazy patterns on your back before tangling in your hair, grounding himself in you.

It’s your own smiles breaking through the kiss, lashes tickling, and both of you laugh senselessly as you come down from the moment.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathes out, voice raspy, “This was the best Christmas gift ever.”

You snicker, biting your lip to hold back your amusement, “Oh, baby. It was just an excuse to fuck you. I actually did forget your gift at home.”

“W—What?” His brows shoot up, his post-orgasm haze momentarily replaced with incredulity as his cheeks redden even more.

When Jeongguk straightens on the couch, so do you, steadying your weak frame with your hands splayed against his chest. Sheepishly, you confess, “Yeah. Bought you that Mario game yo—“

“Princess Peach: Showtime?”

“Yea—”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, his excitement so pure it’s almost jarring considering what just transpired, and that he’s no longer a virgin, “God, I fucking love— that game. That is the best Christmas gift ever.”

You can’t hold back your laughter this time, shaking your head at how easily he slips back into his usual self, the one that had you buying a Victoria’s Secret set in that shade of burgundy he said he didn’t like just to attempt a crazy chance at having him.

Leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss to his lips that brings you back to the realization that you finally did get to have him, before murmuring against them, “Well, that and a second round. What do you say?”

“Please.”

[girlgenius1111]

forgiveness is warm, like a tear on a cheek

alexia putellas x reader alexia feels neglected by her girlfriend. r is drowning at work. everything comes to a head, and r says things she doesn't mean. she has to figure out how to make it up to alexia, if she even can. angst -> fluff fluff fluff :) back to my hurt/comfort roots

—

Walking through the door, you barely had the energy to slide your shoes off and drop your keys into the dish on the hallway table. 

You were so tired. Deep down in your very soul, in your bones, you were exhausted. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to take a quick shower, and climb into bed. But Alexia had a match earlier, and you’d seen her name on the scoresheet twice, when you checked on your break. You knew she’d be excited to rehash the whole match with you. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want that; you loved nothing more than seeing the enthusiasm and excitement on her face when she talked about football. You were just so tired.

It was more than just being tired, you knew that. But Alexia couldn’t, you wouldn’t let her take on that burden on top of everything else she had to deal with. 

Sure enough, you’d barely taken two steps into the living room before a blur of soft sweats and fading blonde hair was crossing the room towards you. 

“Mi amor!” Alexia called sweetly, sweeping you into her arms in a tight hug. It was the best moment of your day by far, feeling the warm and comforting embrace of your girlfriend.

“Hi baby,” you murmured, voice muffled against her shoulder. “I saw your goals, they were beautiful.” 

Alexia pulled away just enough for you to see the happy grin on her face. “Gracias, amor. It was such a good match, everyone just clicked. I had a through pass to Pina and–”

“Ale? Can I shower and then you can tell me about it?” You interrupted, noting the way her face fell just slightly at your words. “I’m sorry, it was such a long day and I feel so gross. I want to hear, I just need to be clean first.” 

Your girlfriend recovered quickly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss before nudging you in the direction of the bathroom. “Por supuesto. Go shower, I’ll meet you in bed.” 

You squeezed her hand gratefully, turning and heading for the bathroom. It would be a miracle if you made it through the shower without falling asleep, and even bigger one if you made it longer than 30 seconds in bed without passing out in the middle of Alexia’s post match rehash. But you had to try.

—

Somehow, perhaps through divine intervention, you managed not to fall asleep in the shower, or immediately once your head hit the pillow. It was probably also because of the excitement in Alexia’s voice as she told you every detail about the match, the way her eyes lit up and she unconsciously gestured wildly with her hands.  

After twenty minutes of very detailed descriptions of each goal and play that Alexia felt especially proud of, she could see you were trying valiantly not to nod off. 

“And Aitana was right there! I didn’t even really see her, I just knew someone would be there.” She paused, looking down to where you were staring up at her, jaw clenched and eyes forced to remain open. “Okay, bebé, I’ll let you sleep now.” 

“If there’s more–” You cut yourself off with a yawn, making Alexia chuckle and lean in to press kisses to your cheek. 

“No, you’re falling asleep. You’ve had a long day. Besides, we both have tomorrow off, we can spend the whole day talking about football.” Alexia said cheekily. You knew she was only half kidding. 

“Oh, I have to go into work for a bit tomorrow. I have charting to catch up on, but then I’m all yours.” 

Silence. You wondered why you didn’t know what Alexia’s face was doing, before realizing your eyes were shut. You forced them open again, and looked at your girlfriend, who had pulled away slightly and was studying the ceiling above her like there was a secret message she needed to decode. 

“Ale?”

Alexia was silent for another moment, and when she did speak, her voice was strained. “I thought tomorrow was our day. No work, for either of us. That’s what we planned.” 

You sighed, fighting off another yawn. “I know, baby, but I have to get this done. It will only be a few hours max, I promise.” 

“You can’t do it another day?” 

Frustration began to build in your chest, even though you knew it wasn’t really fair. “I don’t have another day. I work almost the whole week because I had to pick up other people’s shifts so that they could take my shifts for the weekend I’m going to watch you in Madrid.”

Alexia frowned, and you instantly regretted your tone of voice. You hadn’t meant to sound so irritated, really. 

“If that weekend is too hard–” 

“No, Alexia, I said I’d go, I’ll be there.” You interrupted, trying and failing to catch her eye. 

“I just miss you.” Alexia said quietly. “I feel… I feel like you do not always make time for me.” 

It felt like your heart was in a vice, being squeezed painfully. You understood where she was coming from, really. She had a point. You just couldn’t have this conversation right now, couldn’t address how unhealthy your work life balance was becoming. You didn’t have the energy. 

“Alexia, can we talk about this tomorrow? Please? I’m so tired and—”

“You are always tired.” Alexia snapped, leaning back into the pillows. “You never want to have this talk but I need to, we need to.”

“I am always tired because I work a 12 hour shift in a hospital with kids!” You replied incredulously. 

In that moment, you knew you should shut the argument down, yet there was nothing you could do with both of you already angry.  

“Yes, yes. Of course. Your job is exhausting, your job is more important than mine. You are tired, and that matters more than my feelings. I do not know why I expected anything else.” 

“Alexia, please.” You sighed. 

“Don’t talk to me like that! Like I am the bad person for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend. I am stressed too, I am tired too. I still make time for you.” 

You sat up, burying your face in your hands, not even sure you were awake anymore or if this was some kind of weird dream. “Alexia, I make time for you. I go to your matches as often as I physically can. I spent half my summer flying back and forth between here and Paris for the Olympics. I don’t know what more you want from me.” 

“I want you. I like to have you at my matches, but I want to spend time with you. Not in between shifts while you’re half asleep and grouchy. All you do is work! All the time, constantly. It’s like you don’t care that I want to see you.” 

“Alexia, you’re being ridiculous.” 

“No! I’m not! It’s like you only want me when it’s convenient for you, and most of the time that means showing up to matches where your picture gets taken.” Alexia snapped. 

She froze. You froze. You could see on her face she didn’t mean it, could see it was just an insecurity of her own that she was pushing onto you. At that point, though, you didn’t care if she meant it or not. You were so tired, and so upset, there wasn’t anything left to filter your words. 

“Jesus, Alexia. I am doing my best. I’m sorry my job doesn’t allow me to have an obscene amount of freetime! I’m sorry there is more to my job than kicking a ball around a field, and laughing with my teammates.” You shouted back, sliding out from under the covers and beginning to pace.  

“God forbid I’m tired! God forbid I want to come home and go to sleep without listening to you go on and on about football and goals and passes. I have a career, and I’m sorry that doesn’t fit with your expectations of me being some kind of stay at home girlfriend who just lives to worship the ground you walk on at all times.” 

A sniffle broke through the haze of anger. Your head snapped up, as if you were just realizing what you’d said. It hadn’t even been conscious, most of it hadn’t been true. That wasn’t what you thought of her or how you saw her. It was just words put together to hurt her the way she’d hurt you.

But you’d been right earlier, about needing to shut the argument down before it went too far. It had gone too far, now, and the devastated look on your girlfriend’s face told you that a thousand times over. Her eyebrows were pulled together, jaw clenched to stop herself from crying even as tears slipped free and ran down her cheeks. Regret slammed into you like a truck, like ten semi trucks one right after the other. 

The hurt from her own words still swirled around inside, leaving you on the brink of tears as you struggled to say something, anything to undo what you’d just done. 

“Alexia, I’m sorry, I didn’t–” 

“Goodnight.” Alexia interrupted. Without another word, she turned her lamp off and rolled over, pulling the covers tight around her. 

You knew better than to try to fix it right then. She wouldn’t want to hear your apologies, not when the pain was so fresh. 

“I’m sorry, Ale.” You whispered, grabbing the pillow off your side of the bed before heading out into the living room. A part of you wanted to apologize again and again, beg for forgiveness. Another part of you wanted to demand she apologize, too. Most of you, though, wanted to collapse onto the floor and cry until you couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

—

You didn’t sleep that night. And if the bags under Alexia’s eyes were any indication, she hadn’t either. You were folding the blankets on the couch when she emerged from the bedroom, a barça shirt and shorts already on. She didn’t look at you as she walked by and into the kitchen, didn’t give any indication that she knew you were there. 

It was deserved, more than deserved. Recently, it wasn’t uncommon that you started the morning with a weight on your chest, anxiety twisting in your gut. This time, though, the root cause was different. 

Everything was falling apart, and it was all your fault. Work was destroying you, tearing you down piece by piece. You were falling apart, and instead of telling Alexia and letting her help make it better, you’d kept it to yourself and now you were facing the consequences. It wasn’t enough that everything was going wrong at work, you had to mess up everything at home, too. You were starting to think that’s the only thing you were good for; messing things up. Ruining the good. Hurting the people you loved. Not being good enough or strong enough to be what everyone needed you to be. 

Alexia left the house without speaking to you, and you hadn't expected anything less. She needed time to cool off, and she wouldn’t speak to you until that happened. A part of you worried she wouldn’t speak to you ever again, which you felt was warranted. 

As you began to run through your morning routine, your mind continued to race. 

You didn’t really get why Alexia had kept you around this long. She was Alexia; kind and strong and talented and perfect. She was perfect and so easy to love. She was everything you weren’t, and you didn’t understand why she’d ever chosen you. 

Maybe Alexia was wondering that right now. 

The thought made you sick to your stomach, made you want to chase her down to whatever pitch she’d gone to run through drills until she didn't feel the hurt anymore, and beg her to forgive you. You headed for the front door, still undecided on just where you were going, to work or to find Alexia.

You opened it, though, and found yourself face to face with someone who had an eerily similar face to your girlfriend’s. You jumped backwards, breath catching. 

“Sorry.” Alba said, though she didn’t look very sorry. “I was about to knock.” 

Your girlfriend’s sister pushed right past you into the house, and you hurried to shut the door and follow after her. 

“Ale isn’t here.” You said, speaking for the first time that morning and finding, to your horror, that your voice was raw from spending half the night sobbing on the couch. You knew you looked terrible, eyes puffy and rimmed red, dressed in the first jeans and tshirt that you could find. Alba looked impeccable, as she always did, but it wasn’t in her nature to judge, so you tried not to think too hard about it. 

Alba took a seat on said couch, raising her eyebrows at you. “I know. I’m here to talk to you.” 

You were so caught off guard by her appearing on your doorstep, so confused as to what she was doing in your house, that you took a seat on the couch beside her, like this was a completely normal occurrence. 

“About… what?” 

Alba rolled her eyes. “Alexia called me in tears last night after your fight.” 

You shifted uncomfortably. You knew Alba quite well, you liked her. She had always been sweet to you, but you knew she’d do anything for her sister. And while you respected that, you didn’t want to argue with Alba; you just wanted to figure out how to fix things with Alexia. 

“Alba, I–”

“No. I’m going first.” Alba declared. “Something isn’t right with you. Something hasn’t been right with you for months, but it seemed like it was only me who saw it, so I didn’t say anything. Not when you looked more and more exhausted every time I saw you, not when I came to bring you lunch at the hospital and you looked half dead. I didn’t think it was my place.” 

You wanted to interrupt that it still probably wasn’t her place, but you knew better than to interrupt Alba when she was in the middle of a speech. 

“I’ve known you for two years now, chica. And the things you said last night to my sister made me want to hit you with my car.” Alba continued, tucking one leg under her and leaning back into the couch cushions with her arms crossed.

You winced, not saying that you thought you might deserve it. 

“But I also know how out of character that was for you, and Alexia does too. She’s angry, chica, and hurt, otherwise she’d probably be having this conversation with you. Something is wrong, something is going on, and you are not okay. So we’re going to sit here, and you’re going to tell me what is wrong, and I am going to tell you how to fix it.” 

You opened your mouth, a thousand different sentences on the tip of your tongue. 

You were fine. Nothing was wrong, you’d just been tired the night before. You were sorry, but you’d work this out with Alexia. 

Different lies and half truths rushed through your head, but you didn’t say any of them, didn’t try to convince Alba that you were okay.

Instead, you sank back into the sofa cushions and opened your mouth, tears pooling in your eyes as you did so. And you told Alba everything, just as she’d said you would.

—

Alba, it turned out, gave really good advice. Some of it you already knew, like how you had to be honest with Alexia, and how you owed her a massive apology. But Alba had grown up with Alexia, and knew exactly what you needed to do to make it up to her. 

Alexia wanted quality time with you. Your support at matches was important to her, but she wanted to be with you more. She’d tried to tell you that, but you’d been too tired and frustrated to listen. So, with Alba’s help, you made a plan. Quality time with Alexia, where you could apologize and have a conversation. 

You just had to keep her in the room with you long enough to ask her about it. And, of course, she had to say yes. 

—

Alexia was meticulously measuring out the ingredients for her smoothie as you walked into the kitchen. Her posture tensed, but she didn’t acknowledge you, just as she’d been doing for the past day. Freshly showered, the blonde ends of her hair hung damp down her back, contrasting the bright green Nike sweatshirt she had pulled on. It was midday, and the sun was at the perfect spot to come in through the skylight, casting your girlfriend in a golden glow. 

She’d been home from whenever she’d gone for just under an hour, showered and now making herself a snack. Alba had left just a few minutes before Alexia arrived home, and if your girlfriend noticed the tear stains on your t-shirt, or the empty tissue box on the coffee table, she didn’t say anything.

She still hadn't even looked at you, and as terrified as you were of her rejecting your idea, rejecting your apology, rejecting you, you knew you had no choice. 

Alexia needs to know that you aren’t okay. You need to apologize, and she’ll forgive you. You just have to let her in, because she feels like you’ve completely shut her out. This is fixable, you just have to fix it.

With Alba’s words ringing in your head, you stepped closer and cleared your throat. 

“Ale? Can I talk to you?”

Alexia turned slowly, putting down the banana she was cutting in half and shrugging as if she didn't care. But you could see so clearly that she did care, the pain in her eyes making the guilt you were feeling grow exponentially. 

“I…um. I took the next three shifts off, I know you’re off too. I booked us at that bed and breakfast you wanted to go to for your birthday.” 

Alexia’s expression didn’t really change, but you swore you saw a flicker of interest in her eyes. 

“I was hoping you’d go with me. I… everything is messed up right now, and I know I messed it all up, but I want to fix it. We need to talk, and I think getting away would be good for us.” 

You held your breath as Alexia studied you, still silent. 

“Okay.” She said finally, her voice soft and hurt. But she’d said yes, and that was all you could really ask for. 

“Thank you.” You told her. Again, she shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and again you saw through it. “We can leave this afternoon if you want? Or if that’s too soon, we can go tomorrow–”

“This afternoon is fine.” Alexia said. With that, she turned back to her smoothie, and you retreated from the kitchen, content with the progress you’d made even if it didn’t necessarily seem very significant. 

—

The car ride was awkward. You weren’t used to awkward silence between you and Alexia, you were used to easy conversation or content quiet while you both just enjoyed each other’s presence. Instead, one of Alexia’s playlists was queued, drifting out quietly from the speakers. It wasn’t nearly loud enough to ease the heavy tension in the air. A few times, Alexia’s arm moved from where it rested on the center console as if she was going to grab your hand as she often did while she drove. Except each time she seemed to correct herself, raking her fingers through her hair or adjusting her sunglasses instead. You knew you deserved it, but it still made your chest ache. 

You weren’t… well. You weren’t okay. The last few days had proven that to you. Work was tearing you to pieces, and you were barely hanging on to your sanity. All you wanted was your girlfriend. Alexia’s arms, wrapping around you and holding you securely to her. Her soft words whispered in your ear, reassuring and making everything feel just a bit lighter. The smell of her perfume, clinging to her hoodie as you buried your face in it, making your body relax instinctually. You needed her to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay, yet at the same time, you knew you didn’t deserve it. 

You’d been a horrible girlfriend. First by working too much. Then by saying the things you’d said to her, although her words hadn’t been pleasant either. Maybe it had been a mistake, to try to spare her the depths of how much you were struggling. You hadn’t wanted to add anything to her already very full plate, but it seemed like you’d done the opposite. She didn’t see that you were falling apart because you didn’t let her. Instead, she just saw her girlfriend pulling away from her. You’d never believed that you were good enough for Alexia, and now you were more convinced of that fact than ever. 

Alexia could tell you were thinking hard. Not even noticing that you’d arrived, you startled when Alexia turned the car off and the music cut out abruptly. 

Your girlfriend looked at you for a long moment, before reaching for the door handle and letting herself out of the car. “I’ll check us in.” 

She spoke in that same tone of voice, the one so quiet and broken you wanted to cry when you heard it. She headed to the main office to check in and get the keys to the little cottage you’d booked, and you forced yourself to breathe. In and out, over and over again. 

It didn’t work. 

You were overwhelmed by everything going on and all of the feelings trying to claw their way out of the box you’d locked them in. You didn’t notice much time pass before the driver’s side door was opening and Alexia was sliding back into the car. She took one look at you and faltered, seeing the flush of your cheeks and the quick rise and fall of your chest, and knowing something wasn’t right. 

“Are you alright?” Alexia asked. 

You cleared your throat, nodding your head up and down so rapidly it was unconvincing. “Yeah, fine.” 

Alexia was quiet for another moment, before she sighed and put the car into drive. 

“You’re lying.” She murmured, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. 

How were you supposed to respond to that?

—

The two of you sat opposite each other on the sofa in the rented cottage, at least 3 feet of space in between you. You weren’t sure how to start, and it seemed like Alexia wanted you to talk first. Or maybe she didn't want to talk at all, based on the complete silence the cottage had been in since you’d arrived. 

Alexia had put the Barça men’s match on, but shockingly she didn’t seem to be watching it. Instead, her eyes kept drifting over to you, where you looked completely stuck inside your own head. Chewing on your lip, bouncing your leg, biting your nails. 

You’d looked to be on the verge of tears for the last hour, and had opened your mouth to say something before shutting it and shaking your head at least 4 times. 

Alexia was angry. More than that, she was hurt. But somehow, more than that? She was worried. There were too many conflicting feelings and emotions to deal with, so she didn’t. Instead, she scooted a little bit closer to you on the couch, and reached out to grab your hand. 

It was trembling in hers and Alexia frowned down at it, before looking up at your face.

You looked beyond shocked at the gesture, tears falling freely yet silently now. A few seconds of silence passed, before you broke. 

“Alexia, I’m so sorry.” You choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. None of it, I was just–” 

You couldn’t go on, descending into a fit of painful sobs.

Alexia watched you for a moment, her own heart breaking. She was still upset, of course. Your words still echoed around her head, and it wasn’t simple to just forget them. It wasn’t easy to ignore that your actions the past few weeks had really hurt her. But it was beyond clear that you weren’t yourself. The tears streaming steadily down your face now proved that, and Alexia couldn’t help but reach out and carefully wipe them away with her thumbs. 

An argument didn’t mean she stopped caring about you. Alexia still felt that familiar tug in her chest as she watched you cry, like she could feel your pain just by looking at you. You were breaking, and she was going to be there to catch you, no matter what. 

“It’s okay, cariño. It’s going to be okay.” She murmured, lacing her fingers with yours. 

“N-no.” You sobbed. “No, it’s not okay. I upset you and I hurt your feelings and that’s not okay.” 

Alexia thought you were crying about the stress of work, not necessarily the argument. She didn’t realize that you were this upset about the fight. The guilt dripping from your voice eased her a bit, though she felt guilty even thinking that. 

“Come here.” She replied, leaning forward with her arms open to try to coax you into her arms. 

You shook your head. “But I–” 

“I know, cariño, just come here.” Alexia repeated. You gave in, letting her pull you in close until your ear was pressed against her chest, her chin resting on the top of your head. 

The comfort of having her arms around you was everything you needed and everything you were sure you didn’t deserve at the same time. After a second, you shook your head, pulling away from Alexia and scooting to the far corner of the couch. Your breaths were coming rapidly, the guilt and hurt and exhaustion trying to tear your heart into a thousand different pieces and you couldn’t take it any longer. 

Alexia watched, concern growing exponentially by the second, as you buried you clenched your hands tightly, digging your nails into your palm. She reached out again, attempting to grab your hand, but you shook your head again and looked at her with so much sadness on your face, she wasn’t sure what to do.  

“Bebé, just breathe for a minute.” 

You shook your head, unable to go another second without apologizing again. You could barely get a word out without your voice cracking, your breath catching, but you tried all the same. 

“I-I know I really messed up. And I’m so sorry, Ale. I’m so, so sorry. You deserve so much better than how I acted, so much better than me. You were right, you were completely right that I wasn’t making time for you. I wish I could go back and change that and just tell you the truth, but I can’t and now I just–”

“The truth? About what?” Alexia asked, leaning away from you slightly, her guard back up. 

“I wasn’t… I am not okay.” You inhaled shakily. “I’m so tired and so stressed and so anxious. The past few months, work has just been so much, and I know that's what I signed up for but I feel like I’m drowning?”

You broke off, your hands starting to tremble where they were gesturing wildly. Alexia’s face was unreadable, but her hand found yours again, and you let her grab it this time. 

Why, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that feeling her made it a bit easier to breathe, and you had to breathe if you were going to get through everything you needed to say. 

“What is going on at work?” Alexia inquired, when it was clear you weren’t sure how to start talking again. 

There wasn’t any other option at that point other than complete honesty. 

“It’s bad. It’s really bad. My coworkers hate me and my boss is genuinely evil, and we’re short staffed so I’m working way more than I should be. I wake up worrying about work and I spend all day worrying at work, and then I come home and I can’t fall asleep because I’m dreading the next day. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore without it feeling like something is sitting on my chest. I’m so tired, Ale, I could sleep for weeks and it wouldn’t be enough. I feel like I’m falling apart.” 

The captain stared at you for a moment, blinking once. Then twice. Processing all you’d just dumped on her, you were sure. You sniffled, wiping harshly at your cheek. Your sleeve left a red mark on your skin, and Alexia softened. Carefully, she reached out with the hem of her own sleeve, gently wiping the tears away. 

You swallowed a sob at the soft touch, fought the instinct to fall forward into her arms and refuse to let go. 

“You…. why didn’t you tell me this, bebé?” She whispered. There was still pain in her voice, but this time it sounded different. Like she was hurting for you, not because of you. 

“I didn’t want to stress you out!” You sobbed. Alexia looked astonished, and you rushed to keep going, to explain yourself. “At first it was just little things, and you’d just gotten back from the Olympics and you weren’t okay. I just wanted to take care of you and make sure you were okay. But things just kept getting worse and I didn't know how to tell you how bad it was.”

You buried your face in your hands. 

“Oh, amor.” Your girlfriend murmured. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, frowning when you only seemed to cry harder. 

“I-I thought that if I told you how much I was struggling you wouldn’t want to deal with it. I thought you’d realize I’m just this walking disaster that’s tricked you into loving me, into staying, and then you’d leave. I was so scared you’d leave.” 

Though the words were slightly unintelligible, both by your hands covering your face and the sobs forcing their way out of you, Alexia heard you. She heard every word. 

With tears stinging her own eyes, she carefully tugged at your hands until you looked up at her, her arms wrapping around you snuggly the minute you’d uncurled from yourself. She held so tight, it should have felt suffocating, but it just felt safe. It was everything you needed. Her touch, her words, her comforting scent. Alexia held you like you belonged wrapped up against her. 

You didn’t pull away this time. Couldn’t pull away this time. You needed her, like you’d needed her for months, yet you hadn’t known how to ask. For help, for her, for anything. All you could do was let yourself drown until you’d wrecked the most important relationship in your life. 

Yet here Alexia was. Unflinching as you sobbed into her hoodie. Carefully rubbing circles into your back, scratching at the back of your scalp with her blunt fingernails. 

It didn’t make any sense to you, but you couldn’t pretend you didn’t need her desperately any longer. 

“Everything is okay. I’m not going to leave you, bebé. I love you, everything is okay. You are okay.” Alexia murmured. 

“But I was terrible.” You whimpered, past the point of being concerned with your dignity. “I’m so terrible.” 

You didn’t even really catch the tense switch from past to present. In your mind, there was no difference. You’d been terrible to Alexia, and that made you terrible. 

Your girlfriend, however, did catch it, and she was instantly frowning into your hair. 

“You are not terrible.” 

You let out a sound that was something between a scoff and a sob, shaking your head into her chest. 

“You aren’t, mi amor.” Alexia insisted. “We had an argument and we both said hurtful things. You hurt me, yes, but that doesn’t make you terrible, it makes you human.” 

“There’s no excuse,” you began, blinking back another round of tears. 

“No, there is no excuse, but there is an explanation.” Alexia interrupted. “You are not okay. You are struggling, you are suffering. You’ve been on the edge for so long, of course you broke. Of course it was messy and difficult. You’ve been carrying so much by yourself, how could I blame you for the weight of it crushing you, hmm?” 

 “I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean any of it.” You sobbed, slumping forward to press your face into Alexia’s shoulder once again, needing to feel her and hide your face all at once. 

“I know you didn’t.” 

“I love listening to you talk about football. I love how passionate you are, how your face lights up when you describe the assist or pass or play you made. You are so incredible and important and I completely–”

“Amor, please. Stop. I’ve forgiven you.” 

“I don’t know how!”

“Because I know you. I know your heart. You didn’t mean what you said, I know this. Trust me, amor, when I tell you that right now I am much more concerned with you than with our argument.” 

You were struck, then, by the realization of how empathetic your girlfriend was. And you felt so unbelievably undeserving of that empathy. There were a million things you had to say. How sorry you were, how much you loved her; explanations and declarations of love, yet none of those came out of your mouth. 

“I’m so tired, Ale.” You whispered. “Like deep inside my chest, I am so exhausted.” 

Alexia’s expression softened even further, if possible. She reached up, cradling your face in her hands as if it were something precious. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” 

“I didn’t want you to.” 

Alexia didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she shifted so that she could lean back against the arm of the couch, pulling you to lack with your back to her chest. She felt so soft against you, the warm fabric of her hoodie and joggers against your skin doing more than a blanket ever could. 

“Something has to change, mi amor. You shouldn’t have to feel this way at work.” 

“I know.” 

Alexia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she had to say, with no doubt in her mind that you wouldn’t like it. “I think you should quit. Take time off to rest and take care of yourself before finding somewhere else to work. I know you’re going to say no, but hear me out. You need help and–”

“I think I should quit too.” You interrupted. Alexia froze against you, before tilting your chin up so she could see your face. 

“You do?” She sounded shocked, and you didn’t blame her. Your career had always been everything to you. Had. You were older now, though, and had perspective you didn’t have when you signed on to work the crazy hours and grueling schedule. You loved being a nurse, but you couldn’t keep going like this without becoming a shell of the person you were, without losing everything you cared about. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, melting at the relief on Alexia’s face. “Alba came over and talked to me yesterday, and she… helped. She said a lot that put everything into perspective. I can’t keep going like this, I know I can’t. And you deserve more from me than what I’ve been giving you.”

This time, when your eyes flickered up to Alexia’s, you saw hope in them. Guarded hope, but hope all the same. And that told you that you’d made the right choice. 

“I want you to be doing it for you, to. Because you deserve better.” Alexia told you after a minute, stroking her thumb softly across your cheek. You melted into the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“I want to be too. I just don’t think I’m there yet. I think right now… I have to do it for you until I figure out how to do it for me, too.”  

Alexia smiled, then, the first you’d seen on her all night. It felt like the sun had come out from behind a cloud, and was shining right on your face. She leaned in, kissing you so lovingly, you almost started crying again. 

“I love you.” Alexia whispered against your lips. “I love you so much. We’re going to get through this, we’re going to get you through this.” 

You nodded, burying your face into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms tight around you, securely and tightly like she knew exactly what you needed. She probably did. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered again. It would take a while for the guilt to fully fade, to stop weighing on your chest like someone had left an anvil resting on top of you. 

“I know you are.” Alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead, then one to each cheek. “You hurt my feelings, I won’t lie to you. But… amor, I feel like I got to see a glimpse of the voice inside your head, telling you terrible terrible things about yourself. And as much as I was hurt by what you said… I am hurting so much more knowing that you view yourself so negatively.” 

One of your favorite things about Alexia was her brain. She was so intelligent, not just about sports, but with everything. She had this astounding ability to somehow know exactly what a person needed to hear. 

Alexia could have said a thousand different things in that moment, and most of them probably would have made you feel a bit better. But telling you that it hurt her to know how you viewed yourself, how you talked to yourself, conveyed her love for you more than any declaration ever could. You could hear the pain in her voice, and you had no choice but to believe her. 

And if someone as good, as purely good as Alexia loved you that much… it threw your whole self perception for a loop. Knowing Alexia loved you and believing it were two different things. But it felt like she knew just how to pull you closer to believing, sentence by sentence. 

You supposed that was what being loved was; when another person knew you better than you knew yourself. And Alexia absolutely did. 

—

tell me if you find any typos and also if you liked this okay bye

my undying love will be given to anyone who knows where i got the title of this from.

[7yearsofdele]

Nothing in the UCL is grabbing my attention tonight, fear I might be stuck with Burnley vs Luton.

[deonsx]

Can u do one abt Sae Itoshi being a girl dad?🥹

AYAYYYA when I saw that I had to make this request immediately + Nagi and Rin are with you!

Bllk Boys If they become a girl father

Sae Itoshi

Sae wakes up early in the morning to help his daughter get ready for kindergarten. Normally calm and reserved, Sae doesn’t complain when his daughter insists on putting a “princess crown” on his head while he’s combing her hair. Seeing himself in the mirror wearing a pink crown, he smirks slightly and says:

“Doesn’t this make me too cool?” His daughter, with a serious expression responds “No Papa, it’s just perfect!”

On the way to school, his daughter bombards him with questions like, “What’s your favorite color, Papa?” Sae, instead of his usual short answers, takes a moment to think and says, “Maybe blue… but your favorite colors might be better”

Sweet Details:

Sae’s daughter proudly tells her friends, “My dad is the best football player in the world!” Even though Sae tries to stay composed, her admiration secretly makes him incredibly happy

While teaching his daughter how to play football, she somehow manages to dribble past him and score a goal. Sae quietly mumbles “Must be the genes” but deep down, he feels proud beyond words

His daughter loves drawing pictures for him. One day, Sae takes one of her drawings and puts it in his sports bag. Before an important match, he looks at it for motivation.

At night, Sae softly hums a traditional Japanese lullaby to his daughter as she falls asleep. It’s one of the few moments where his stoic exterior melts into pure warmth and love

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi plans to spend his weekend morning sleeping in, but he wakes up to his daughter poking his cheek with her tiny hands

“Daaaad! Wake up! We need to have breakfast and play!” she says with boundless energy. Nagi groans and mutters “Ugh… five more minutes…”

But when his daughter furrows her brows and sternly replies, “Five minutes? No way, now!” he can’t help but smile. “Alright, alright you win” he says, picking her up and carrying her on his shoulder as they head to the kitchen

Despite Nagi’s lazy tendencies, his daughter’s energy and demands always win him over. Sometimes, he even finds himself unexpectedly having fun while playing with her

Sweet Details:

Nagi’s daughter might be hyperactive, curious, and constantly looking for things to do. Although it clashes with his laid-back personality, Nagi learns to adapt and becomes more active because of her

Nagi’s idea of a “daddy-daughter day” often includes binge-watching cartoons, ordering pizza, and him trying (and failing) to braid her hair. While he’s not the best at hairstyling, he’ll do anything to make her laugh

Nagi easily gets drawn into her imaginative world. Whether it’s pretending to be a king, a monster, or a hero saving her, he goes along with it. Afterward, though, he’ll collapse on the couch and say “That was exhausting…”

His daughter loves to challenge her dad, saying things like “Let’s race! If I win, you have to buy me ice cream!” Nagi reluctantly agrees and usually lets her win. But sometimes, his competitive side sneaks in, and he plays seriously

Despite his lazy nature, Nagi is fiercely protective of his daughter. Just the thought of her getting hurt makes him unexpectedly serious and determined to keep her safe

Rin Itoshi

One evening, Rin comes home from training, exhausted. As he opens the door, he hears a small voice shout

“Daddyyyy!”

His daughter runs up to him with bright eyes and says, “Let’s play soccer Daddy!” Rin looks at her, a bit startled, and replies

“At this hour? You have school tomorrow, young lady.” But when she pouts, he sighs and gives in, saying “Fine, but only for five minutes”

Before he knows it, they’re out in the yard playing. She manages to dribble the ball and score between his legs. As she jumps and cheers, Rin smirks slightly and says,

“I guess we shouldn’t tell your mom we played this late”

Sweet Details:

Rin tries to be the “perfect dad” and takes everything very seriously. He wants to provide the best environment for his daughter. However, whenever she hugs him and says “You’re the best dad ever!” his stern exterior softens

Rin teaches his daughter how to play soccer but never pressures her. Instead, he encourages her to enjoy the game at her own pace. One day, when she pulls off a tricky move, he mutters to himself

“Must be the genes”

Rin is extremely protective of his daughter. If someone bothers her at school or hurts her feelings, Rin steps in immediately—though he tries to handle things calmly and rationally

At night, Rin often tells his daughter bedtime stories about famous soccer players. At the end of every story, she snuggles up to him and says “But you’re the best one Daddy” For Rin, it’s the highlight of his day

Princess not: Rin affectionately calls her “My Little Lion” because she’s just as determined and stubborn as he is

Enjoy!

[dollbrbie]

ʚଓ HOW HE FUCKS YOU AFTER WINNING A GAME

more for this au ♥︎ ꒰ fratboy!isagi ꒱

when isagi wins a football game, you’re always in for a real treat. he just fucks you so, so good, like he hasn’t before.

and don’t get me wrong, isagi is always good in bed. he’s always so attentive and sharp when it comes to you, making sure to coax out those pretty moans and whimpers of yours, whispering all the things you want to hear whilst going at the pace he’s learnt that you love.

and there’s never been a time where he hasn’t made you cum. he knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly what gets you off and what gets that building pleasure going until he sees your back arch and your toes curl, the moans from your mouth getting whinier when you call out his name.

but isagi is safe. for the most part it’s exactly what you want. you don’t really want constant sex that’s leaving you insanely sore or with bruised skin, having people question why you’re walking funny. isagi makes love most of the time. most.

after winning a match it’s like all that goes out of the window, the adrenaline and pure euphoria of being crowned as a winner just brings out another side of isagi, especially when he has his stunning girlfriend clapping and cheering for him on the bleachers.

you think it’s definitely got something to do with his ego or this alpha male mentality most college boys have. but when he has you face down ass up, pounding into your poor, abused pussy and bottoming out completely inside you as his tip kisses your cervix with your gummy walls fluttering around his shaft, those thoughts you once had become completely irrelevant, his name a moaning mess on your lips.

and that’s what makes isagi worse. hearing you moan out his name like a beautiful prayer just sends him over the edge, fucking you even harder and even faster whilst chasing both your highs before edging them, and repeating.

the pleasure is so overwhelming mixed with your body’s constant need to release that knotting pleasure building again and again in your stomach, isagi’s rough pounding thrusts driving you over the edge.

so you’ll beg him to let you cum, tears streaming down your face as you look back at him and for a moment he almost feels bad.

“i’ll let you cum soon, baby. just hold out for me, yeah? you can do that, can’t you?”, he’ll ask as you give him a weak nod, “that’s my girl, y’so good for me.”

and in the moment that’s all you can do; be good for him and do as he says until he gives you permission to cum, which is one of the best of your life.

with the constant denial, the build up to your orgasm is so intense that when it finally hits, it’s way too much. your eyes spill with tears of pleasure and your thighs shake beneath you, causing you to collapse as you feel pure euphoria shoot through your veins.

and the way you moan out isagi’s name sends him over the edge, his own orgasm following behind and just as intense as yours, still sloppily fucking your overstimulated pussy and ultimately releasing his load into you.

he always did that after sex like this. you’re not really sure why, but you didn’t complain much.

after all, isagi was still your sweet, caring boyfriend. so, he’ll always clean you up and give you the most precious aftercare. especially after fucking you like that.

safe to say you’ll be having a lazy morning in bed tomorrow.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[wileys-russo]

Not sure if you’re taking requests but I’m a sad and anxious American who could use a bit of happiness rn. Thank you in advance but also no worries if this doesn’t spark anything.

Just a little fluffy something with Leah or Alessia at home, “there’s no way these are vegan” after surprising them with homemade brownies

special brownies II l.williamson, a.russo

"less you can't eat brownies, we have a match tomorrow." leah reminded sternly as you carded your fingers through the moody strikers hair, her head resting in your lap as she groaned loudly at your other girlfriends words.

"yeah leah a match i have to play on my period! at least let me eat some sort of warm chocolate if i can't curl into a ball and die." alessia mumbled miserably, rolling over and pushing her face into your hoodie covered stomach.

"don't!" you mouthed at the older girl who scoffed and was clearly ready to say something that absolutely would not help the situation. "i'll make you brownies for after the game tomorrow baby, i promise." you assured alessia, rubbing her back gently as she huffed, clearly not happy but somewhat accepting of the offer.

"with ice cream?" "with ice cream." "that vanilla bean ice cream in the blue container?" "yes lessi, i will make sure to buy that exact ice cream just for you."

"you're going to bake brownies from scratch?" leah snickered, lifting your shared girlfriends legs and settling herself onto the sofa, alessia digging her heels into leahs thigh mumbling about a foot massage, making the defender roll her eyes but oblige none the less.

"yes i am. are you going to try and tell me i can't? little miss 'childrens menu'." you narrowed your eyes skeptically, feeling alessia chuckle lightly before leah squeezed her foot too hard and her head popped up to shoot her a glare.

"well babe i think we all remember the last time you tried to bake. i, at least, can admit that i am not a good cook. which is why i'm dating one and a half of them!" leah grinned, quickly assuring the grumpy striker that she was the one and you were the half.

"half!" you protested, a little pinch to your thigh meaning you resumed scratching alessia's back where you'd paused momentarily, glaring daggers at the other girl a few cushions down.

"you do your best baby, and your best is good. but maybe you could just buy some brownies? that little cafe leah loves does them with the chocolate chips, we can grab a coffee and then heat them up later after the game." alessia mumbled into your chest, patting your thigh in an attempt to show support.

"do you both really think i'm that incapable of making brownies?" you asked in disbelief, the silence in response practically deafening. "wow! well the truth comes out." you scoffed in offense, both blondes heads snapping toward you as you attempted to wiggle out from alessias grip.

"no come on love don't be like that! baking just isn't for everyone. same as football isn't for everyone or maths isn't for everyone, its fine!" alessia held on tightly, tugging you back down and shuffling her body to lay on you more as you crossed your arms.

"everyone has their own special skill set baby girl, yours just doesn't include baking. more like...burning? hey i bet if we were ever stranded on a desert island you'd be able to get a fire going!" leah was clearly trying to be on the same supportive track as your other girlfriend but failing miserably as even alessia cringed at the attempt.

"no baby she didn't mean that don't-" but this time you managed to pull yourself free and roll out from beneath alessia, shooting up to your feet and taking turns glaring at the two blondes still laid up on the sofa.

"tomorrow i will not be coming to your game. i am going to spend the afternoon here baking and you will both come home to the best fucking brownies you've ever tasted-no actually the best vegan brownies you've ever tasted because i am that confident that i can do it. even without dairy!" you announced, stomping off to go sulk by yourself and look up some recipes.

"wait but babe you're still going to get regular ice cream right? not vegan ice cream? right? babe!"

~

you'd been so confident, you really had, which had made the fall from grace and back into reality a difficult one.

the reality that your girlfriends doubts weren't so far fetched and you might not actually be capable of baking, all the more prickly an acceptance to swallow.

which is what had lead to this disgustingly sneaky switch, the evidence of your previous three attempts scattered strategically around the kitchen for your lovers to see, and the evidence of the store bought brownies you'd rushed out to buy instead well hidden at the very bottom of the trash bins.

you'd just taken them out of the microwave to warm them up, very carefully stacking them up on a plate when you heard alessia's car in the driveway, leah playing passenger princess today.

they'd done their best this morning to grovel and sweet talk and try their very hardest to change your mind about coming to the game but you were stubborn by nature and once it was made up there wasn't much to be done to change it.

so they'd trudged off to the match like kicked puppies and you'd spent your afternoon burning chocolate and yelling at the oven trying to shift the blame before inevitably accepting your fate.

however you'd made such a fuss and a point both last night and this morning about your abilities that you may have accepted your fate, but you had no intent on letting your girlfriends do the same, the art of deception hopefully saving you the further embarrassment of eating your words with an audience.

"you did it!" alessias eyes lit up as she entered the kitchen first, hair damp and scraped up into a bun. "congratulations on the hat trick baby." you smiled, pecking her lips a few times before her loving gaze dropped down to the sweet treats on the counter.

"i think she plays better on her period." leah mused as she wandered in, the younger blonde shooting her a dirty look in response as leah kissed her cheek apologetically and wrapped you in a hug.

"you're so much prettier when you don't talk." you teased, squeezing her face in your hand with a wink as leah pulled a face and blew a raspberry on your cheek.

"less!" you laughed, turning around a few seconds later and already finding the striker with a mouthful of brownie, crumbs down the front of her hoodie and a blissed out look on her face.

"what? i was promised these!" she defended still with a mouthful of food making you wince and push her lightly. "yes you were babe and you more than earned them." you chuckled, leah reaching around you to take one for herself.

"babe there's no way these are vegan!" the milton keynes local scoffed after a mere sniff causing your eyes to roll as she took a cautious bite. "are too." you gestured your arms around to the plethora of substitutes piled around the kitchen as leah hummed skeptically.

"just tell her she did a good job, shut up, and stuff your face with chocolate leah." alessia defended, hugging you from behind as you smiled gratefully and kissed her jaw, pushing away from her as she shoved the other half of the baked good into her mouth and sent crumbs showering down on you.

"well i need a quick shower but ice creams in the freezer-" you kissed alessia's cheek since her lips were preoccupied making out with a brownie.

"-whipped creams in the fridge." you pecked leahs lips knowingly. "oi!" the defender grabbed at you as your hand collected with her ass with a wink, escaping to the bathroom for a shower and leaving them to their brownies.

which may have been a mistake.

when you returned it was to a welcomingly quiet living room, both of your blondes laid on the lounge watching a film, which judging by the bored look on leahs face and the concentrated one on alessia's, the film had been the strikers choice.

offering them both a cup of tea which was met with a resoundingly quick yes from each you disapeared to the kitchen, not hearing leah get up to follow you much to alessia's grumpy protests at being left alone.

"you know babe i noticed something very interesting about your brownies." leah hummed causing you to jump a little not having thought anyone was with you, flicking the kettle on to boil and raising an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"well you know i love a good jigsaw, yeah?" leah questioned, grabbing the plate of brownies which was remarkably untouched given alessia's desire to inhale the lot of them just moments before you ducked off for a shower.

"but with a jigsaw, all the pieces...have to match up." leah nodded down as your eyes dropped, leah having lined up the brownies which sure enough weren't even close to matching up together the way they would if you'd baked them in the tray you'd claimed to.

"well thats because-" "oh no no my girl, i wasn't asking." leah interrupted with a shake of her head and a finger pressed to your lips. "i know you didn't bake those, and they sure as shit aren't vegan." leah smirked knowingly, pulling your body closer into hers as she leaned down, lips ghosting your own as right as you tried to kiss her she pulled away, smirk growing wider as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"the only question i want the answer to is, how are you going to make it up to us for lying baby?"

[megumimania]

silly little footballer!geto x wag!reader drabbleeee, this idea has been cooking up since the euros—geto plays for bayern munich #fact! 18+, smut under the cut!

thinking about soccer player!suguru who’s fave pre match ritual is his lovely wife. he gets teased by his fellow teammates and the media for being the “wife” guy in a sport that is known for cheating, crazy parties and boatloads of women and drugs.

it’s not like he cares anyway, not when he has his lovely wife that is all he could dream of and more, you are the most gorgeous and best thing that has ever happened to him and his daughters that you took on and raised as if they were your own with zero judgment.

it’s safe to say he’s smitten with you but he’s more in love with your pussy too. of course he replies as playfully as possible when journalists ask to clarify by what he means by you being his pre game ritual—not wanting to fuck up his brand of being the family man and captain of the team.

“that’s all, my wife she’s just able to get me in the right energy for the game.” he says with a chuckle, generating a chorus of ‘awwws’ from the crowd who’s ready to write an article about how he’s the ideal man for modern day football and how young men should aspire to be like him (he doesn’t share the same sentiment). whilst a billion of cameras flash in his face and journalists quickly scramble to write down what he’s saying.

if only they knew what he really meant.

his big game against dortmund is coming up tomorrow and he’s already pregaming. the girls are with the nanny leaving you and him with ample alone time together. “c’mon baby you can take it.” he says in that honeyed tone that makes your pussy clench even more as he fucks you at that rough-gentle pace you both like.

you’re already spent with your third orgasm of the night threatening to rip through you like a current as suguru keeps fucking you. “I can’t baby, i cant.” you pout as your voice grows more whiny, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. he leans over and wipes the stray tears from your face, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks.

“yes you can, sweetheart.” he croons affectionately as his hand trail down to your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. suguru revels in your pleasure watching your eyes crinkle up and your back arch from the sheer pleasure that he alone is giving you. it gives him a slight boost knowing that only him can get you like this.

he places sloppy kisses up your jaw as he continues his unrelenting pace. you grip the hotel sheets beneath you as you feel like you’re about to explode with immense pleasure. “sugu baby, ‘m gonna—“ you aren’t even able to finish your sentence as you have your third orgasm of the night.

suguru follows through soon after, falling limp on top of you, spent yet satisfied. “you better win this game tomorrow.” you joke, moving his fallen locks away from his face so you could see him better. he grins placing a gentle kiss to your neck before meeting your gaze. “oh i will, angel.” he says with a knowing smirk, kissing you once more as you were now wrapped up in his arms.

and lo and behold he did, with the game against borussia dortmund ending with a score of 3-1 and the media dubbing you as his ‘good luck charm.’

maybe your pussy does have some magical properties after all.

[russo-woso]

So high school || Leah Williamson

warning smut 18+, fingering, semi-public setting?

Based on this request here. Thank you for the idea :)

Summary Your relationship with Leah brings you back to high school

You and Leah had been dating for just over seven months and to say it had been the best time of your life was the biggest understatement of the century.

With the stress of your degree, constantly writing new songs for your album and dealing with the responsibility of adult life, it was Leah who brought back the fun in your life.

To the current day, you've always, and always will, say that your relationship with Leah was a high school relationship.

It was as if every time you looked at her you felt, well there's no better way to describe it other than just high school.

The day you met Leah at an event, was the day that changed your life forever.

Leah, being the confident captain she was, asked you on a date before even saying hello.

Wanting to take a change from your normal over-thinking self, you agreed.

When you said yes, you thought you'd go out for dinner with her, get bored of her and never see her again.

What you didn't expect was to end up seeing her again the following night and then again and again.

Leah made you forget about the stress in life, instead, making you realise the fun and adventures in the world.

You went from wearing a frown to wearing a smile every second of the day.

You were so happy with living like you were back in high school to the fact you purposely went out of your way to make it as fun as possible.

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you

Leah had just played her first match in nine months against Reading and had managed to bag an assist, which made your heart swell with pride.

To make the match even more memorable for you and leah, you'd purchased a cardboard cut out of Leah's face.

After the final whistle blew, Leah was the first one you searched for throughout the crowd of players on the pitch.

When you clocked her, you noticed the confused look on her face as she searched the crowd for you.

As soon as you took the mask off, a smile appeared on her face as climbed over the railing to get to you.

You enveloped her in a bone crushing hug before grabbing the back of her neck, pressing your lips on hers.

"I'm so proud of you, Le." You whispered repeatedly in her ear.

"It's all because of you, baby. I couldn't have done it if it wasn't for you."

and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night

"I had to do this interview with the little girl I was on about and she asked if I had a joke and only one came to my head. Why was cinderella bad at football?" Because she ran away from the ball." Leah told you over FaceTime and you let out a small giggle, finding the joke genuinely funny. "I love your laugh."

"You make me laugh and you like it. Good combo, that is."

"We are a good combo, aren't we?" Leah asked and you agreed, a small laugh escaping past your lips.

"Tell me more jokes." You suggested and Leah agreed, telling you every joke she knew.

Leah didn't care how many jokes she told that night, the jokes made you laugh and that's all that mattered.

I'm watching American pie with you on a Saturday night, your friends are around so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs

It was Leah's turn to host team bonding but messing up the dates for your movie night with her, meant Leah had you knock on her door with a confused look on your face.

“What’s with all the cars? Throwing a party without me?” You joked as Leah stood there with an even more confused expression.

“Baby, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here, it’s just I thought our movie night was tomorrow.” Leah pointed out, quickly pulling you in for a hug and kiss.

“Oh, I thought it was tonight. Maybe I got the days wrong. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, love. It was me who got the days wrong. I remember talking about it being tonight. I’ve got team bonding tonight. We’re just about to find a movie to watch. Come, it’ll be fun, and it means I get cuddles. The team love you anyway.” Leah got excited and guided you inside. “Guess who decided to surprise us.” Leah announced to the whole Arsenal squad.

“Guess who got her days mixed up.” You teased Leah whose cheeks turned a red colour.

The girls all said hello to you as you took a seat next to Leah at the back corner of the living room.

After about half an hour of arguing over what movie you were going to watch, you all agreed on American Pie, some of the girls not watching it before, and some of them loving the film.

At the beginning of the film, Leah rested her hand on your lower thigh but as the film continued, Leah’s hand got higher and higher.

“Leah, stop it.” You warned, moving her hand lower down.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” Leah murmured against your neck. “They won’t see or hear. Look at them all, they’re too busy watching the film.”

Leah’s fingers slide down into your underwear, her fingers teasingly circling your clit.

“Le, that feels so good.” You whisper into her neck.

You looked up to double check that nobody was watching and luckily, no one was.

Leah then dips her fingers into your pussy, making you let out a muffled moan into her neck.

It was only quiet because you stopped yourself but you made sure to not move your head from Leah’s neck.

“Faster, le. Please.” You muttered, her slow pace torturing you.

Leah listened, speeding up her movements.

“Fuck.” You whispered, a sigh leaving your mouth.

As your orgasm approached, your moans and sighs began to get pushed so Leah came up with another plan.

“Kiss me, baby.” Leah muttered, your lips colliding as she swallowed your moans.

Leah started curling her fingers as they entered you, bringing you closer and closer to your high.

“‘m gonna cum. Please don’t stop, le.” You begged, breaking the kiss before Leah brought you in for another.

After swallowing all your orgasmic moans, leah pulled away, grinning at you.

You caught your breath before showing an identical one back.

Once more, you looked around the room to see that everyone was oblivious to the fact Leah had just given you an orgasm.

“We should do that again sometime.” Leah suggested and you nodded.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?, It's just a game, but really

Leah had been sat down to do a TikTok for the England TikTok page.

The media team explained that she was going to do a few filters, not a lot, but enough for the fans to be content.

One of the filters happened to be kill, kiss, marry.

Leah smiled to herself, knowing that she hadn’t played the game since she was in high school.

Pressing the record button, the filter started and she was given three celebrities.

Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and Y/N Y/L/N.

“This is easy this is.” Leah laughed, not even having to think about her options.

You and Leah and announced your relationship quite early on.

Well, you hadn’t officially announced it.

When you started attending Arsenal matches with Leah, and Leah started attending your shows, fans assumed you were either friends or there was possibly something between you both.

It wasn’t until you won a Grammy for best album, that Leah was so proud, she planted a kiss on your lips before you went up to collect it.

Since then, the fans had guessed you were a couple.

“I’m gonna go, kill, Britney Spears. Kiss, Taylor Swift. Marry, Y/N.” Leah said, looking past the camera to see Kiera laughing.

“She might as well be married to Y/N. So loved up them two are.” Kiera joked and they both laughed.

Get my car door, isn't that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I really needed a break.” You said to Leah as you walked out the restaurant.

With all the songwriting and studying for your final exam, Leah thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner.

Due to the popularity you both had, it was hard to find a place to go when people would constantly swarm you, however, one restaurant quite close to Leah’s house, had a separate room that was used for private events but they allowed you to use it.

“You deserve a break, love. You’ve been working so hard on your songs and your exams. I think I should take your mind off it all.” Leah sent you a playful smirk as she opened the back seat car door.

Leah helped you onto the back seats before climbing over you.

Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours and you were both scrambling to take your clothes off.

Breaking the kiss, Leah’s lips travelled down your jaw and into your neck, soothing sensitive hickeys from the night before.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.” Leah told you, pressing kisses to your neck.

“I’m all yours, le. No one ever had me, not like you.”

You know how to ball, I know Aristotle

“I don’t understand this. I mean I do, but then I try the equation and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” You explain to Leah who rubbed your back comfortingly.

“You’ll do it, baby. Stop stressing. Come on, talk me through it and I’ll try see where you’re going wrong.” Leah suggested, taking a seat next to you.

“Le, you’re kidding. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle. Not the other way round. I mean you’re clever, baby, but I think you’ll freak when you see the equation.” You slightly giggled at Leah’s confidence, but she had that cocky look on her face so you allowed her to look at it.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Leah admitted once you turned the textbook to her, a full page on the equation. “I’ll stick to football.”

“Good choice, baby.”

Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto

Leah was sat playing FIFA with Georgia, Kiera and Lucy whilst you were laid on the bed, next to Leah.

They had been playing all evening and now into the night, which annoyed you, because Leah had said you’d be doing something else.

“Le, how long until it’s finished?” You questioned, getting impatient.

It didn’t help that Leah had mentioned it multiple times throughout the day so it had been on your mind all day.

“Not long, love. I promise — Kiera, defend. We’re going more defensive.” Leah says, talking to Kiera through her mic, before pressing button after button on the remote.

“Le, please hurry up.” You whined, impatiently, as Leah looked at you with a saddened look.

“Baby, I promise, as soon as it’s finished. Five minutes left.” Leah told you, but you wanted her now, not in five minutes.

You moved from your original place to straddle Leah’s lap.

Leah’s eyes grew at your plan and although you thought she would continue the game, she pulled her headset off, muting herself before pulling you down into a kiss.

You could faintly hear Kiera, G, and Lucy asking where she’d gone, but you were so focused on Leah and what she was going to do, that you couldn’t hear them.

The kiss turned desperate and before long, the both of you were desperately ripping each other’s clothes off.

Leah connected her mouth to your hardened nipple, swirling her tongue around it.

Your hips bucked at the feeling, as you entangled your hand in Leah’s hair.

“Feels good.” You mumbled in pleasure before Leah moved onto your other one.

As Leah continued to suck hickeys on your body, her fingers made their way down to your pussy, gently circling your clit.

“Fuck, Le.” You breathed out, the pleasure you’d been waiting all day for, finally feeling evident.

“All mine.” Leah mumbled into your neck, her tongue moving over a fresh mark that she’d left.

“All yours.” You repeated as Leah’s finger made their way inside you.

“My girl. Only I get to touch you like this. No one else.” Leah stated, her fingers thrusting in and out of you.

“I’m close, Leah. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me, love. Cum on my fingers.” Leah whispered in your ear as you clenched around her fingers, a moan leaving your lips along with a chant of Leah’s name.

“I love you so much.” You told Leah after you’d calmed down.

“I love you too.”

“I feel like I’m in high school after that.” You laughed and Leah agreed as you both looked at the TV to find Kiera, Lucy and Georgia all still playing fifa. “I feel so… high school every time I look at you.”

[yeeterthek33per]

Bound (to happen) (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Content/Warning(s): SMUT 18+ MDNI, Possessive caitley, orgasm possessive Steph, mild intoxication (wears off before the smutty bit, I promise), restraints, r being tied down, bottom r, top Steph and Caitlin, strap use, oral r giving and receiving etc.

(This took a much more different and dirty turn than I initially planned this to go but the request said make it spicy.... so, anyway :) Have fun...? )

The fact you hadn't counted on them doing this really put a wrench in your plans.

The initial plan was to go out, party a little and then go home and get a good nights sleep before the game against Brighton tomorrow.

However, your girlfriends had other ideas.

After a rather surprise appearance by one of your childhood best friends, Anna, you'd ended up a little inebriated dancing with her, laughing and drinking.

Caitlin and Steph themselves don't drink much or if at all knowing they'll be starting tomorrow, and also know one of them will be driving home after this.

Of course, that's the plan until they see you practically grinding on someone.

They weren't an overtly jealous pair, knowing more often than not that you were affectionate with most if not all of your teammates and close friends.

However, they had no idea who this woman was, only that you'd jumped into her arms the moment she tapped you on the shoulder.

Quite literally.

It goes on for an hour before they've had enough of the touchiness coming from both of you.

You're about to head over to the bar for more drinks when a hand grabbing yours pulls you away from Anna, who looks a little confused and then slight anger at the sudden strangers she didn't know, grabbing you and pulling you into them.

It sobers you up a little but you recognise the warm body you're pulled into and immediately turn around grinning, completely oblivious to the possessive grip you're now being held in.

"Oh! Hi Baby! You guys haven't met yet. This is Anna, she's a childhood best friend of mine!"

You turn back to Anna who's eyeing them both up closely.

"Anna, these two are my girlfriends! I love them both so much, we play football together!"

It's a little slurred and almost drowned out by the blasting music just ten feet from the group of you.

At that, she relaxes and, still eyeing them up, extends a hand out to the two brooding brunettes, noting the tight grips they have on your waist and arm.

Steph steps forward first, gripping the woman's hand tightly and shaking rather stiffly and she has to nudge Caitlin to repeat her actions.

"Nice meeting you, Anna. We really have to be going though, we've got a game tomorrow and we don't want this one too hungover before a match."

You pout at them, looking between them and Anna, before allowing them to tug you away.

But not before offering up your number to catch up later, which Caitlin and Steph both tense up at, which of course, your oblivious self doesn't notice.

In fact, you don't even question them until you're halfway home and sobering up with a water bottle shoved into your hand and a late night sandwich just about forced down your throat.

Noticing their unusually quiet demeanour, you poke Steph's shoulder from the backseat.

"Yes, Y/n?"

Oh.

You're in trouble.

"Did uh... You two okay?"

"Perfect."

The clipped reply makes you shrink a little into your seat and you catch her eye in the rear view mirror. There's a glimmer of something there you don't recognise at first other than mild annoyance.

Caitlin doesn't respond to your question only glancing Steph's way.

Slowly, you put two and two together when you're just about back to your shared home.

"Is this about Anna?"

"We'll talk when we get home."

Sighing softly, you settle back into your seat.

Only, you don't get the chance to say much when you're just about dragged inside and pushed against the entryway wall, two pairs of hands and legs keeping you pinned to the wall.

Suddenly, this night is going much differently than you expected.

"Anna wasn't-"

A hand gripping your jaw makes you close your mouth.

"Say her name again and you won't cum for a month."

Whimpering under their fiery gazes, Steph moves to slip two fingers past your lips while Caitlin tugs at the hemline of the top you're wearing.

Sucking on the intruding digits, not wanting to push their buttons any further, you lift your arms to allow the piece of clothing to be discarded, and then your pants following that.

Now, pressed down onto the bed, stripped bare, one body sitting pinning your hands above you, the other moving about the closet, you're feeling a little nervous.

"You wanted to be little slut at the club with that woman, you can be a little slut for us instead and take what we give you. Can you be a good girl for us?"

Steph's words make you shiver under her, breathing already hitching, finger tips pressing down on the back of your tongue almost forcing a gag out of you and making your eyes water.

She then removes them for a moment.

When you don't answer straight away, you're met with the same fingers gripping your chin tightly to look back up at her.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Steph."

"Good."

She nods, satisfied and gestures to your other girlfriend sitting on the edge of the bed holding a pair of... cuffs?

The younger of the two releases Steph's grip on your wrists only to click them into place above your head.

"Since you can't be good for us lately, we figured a little assistance might be in order. If you're good, we might let you touch later."

The fur covered metal only digs into your wrists enough to provide resistance against any movement outside of their upright position attached together above you, her hands holding the cuffs in place.

Satisfied with your level of restriction, Steph moves to rest between your legs rather than on them.

You're so focused on Steph's movements that you're surprised by Caitlin's sudden presence on the bed once again, this time stripped down to just a sports bra and dildo strapped to her hips.

"You're gonna be a good girl and give us a show, like the good little slut you are."

The tone sends shivers down your spine and you're nodding without even processing too much what was said, though it does leave heat pooling ridiculously fast between your legs.

They'd been like this before but never this dominating and it was making your head spin.

Caitlin manoeuvres so the tip of the strap is pressed against your lips, your head turned accordingly to line up with it.

Slowly, she presses her hips forward, lips parting to accommodate the silicone head.

"That's a good girl."

You have to suppress a keening whine as you start breathing through your nose the deeper she pushes the fake cock.

"Go on then, pretty thing, give us a show."

Doing the best you can with the little leverage you have, you start bobbing up and down (more like back and forth with the way you're currently stuck).

With encouraging hand in your hair, you're being met with an occasional impatient thrust from the forward.

At a particularly rough point, she thrusts and hits the back of your throat harshly and forces another gag from you, at one point even holding your head down on the full length long enough to spring tears to your eyes.

Finally, she let's go and eases off on your head, letting you pull off her with a gasp of air.

"There's a good little slut. Being so good for us."

Steph's words of praise in your ear bring you back to the present.

She'd shifted to a better view point beside you and her hand now has settled on your collarbone, pushing you back flush with the mattress once more.

"Such a pretty little mouth, would hate to see it unoccupied."

Steph gestures to your other girlfriend to shift behind her, between your legs, and you're distracted by the woman stripping down completely, internally groaning at the revealed sight of bare skin and muscle.

Moving your arms so they're relaxed resting on your hips instead of above you, she moves to straddle either side of your head looking down at you with a small smirk.

You whine softly, anticipating getting your mouth on her.

"Ah ah."

She tuts softly when you lean up.

"Beg."

Shivering softly, you lean back to make full eye contact.

"Please Steph, let me taste you."

She raises a brow.

"Please, I need you. I need to taste you. Let me show how good I am."

You whine the last part and she pretends to think for a moment before nodding down at you.

"Go on, baby, you know what to do."

Meeting her halfway down, your tongue dips straight into her and lips wrap around her clit, finally getting a taste of the brunette.

Steph moans above you, hand tangling in your hair with an encouraging tug.

"Fuck, that's it."

Just as you slip your tongue into her, you feel your legs being pushed fully apart and a pair of arms wrap around your thighs, holding them in place.

A mouth on you has your hips canting up against the woman's face and a moan reverberating into the woman above you.

"You make her cum first and you get to cum."

You almost don't hear it with Steph's thighs clamped around your head but as soon as it's out of her mouth and she's returned to sucking your clit, you know she isn't gonna play fair about this.

Moving your tongue, you drag it over her several times, swiftly shaping over her clit and sucking best you can with the little room you have to move your head.

Using every trick you have to make your long time girlfriend cum on your tongue, you can hear her getting more vocal above you.

Curses and praises mixed together angled towards you as she rocks against your mouth, forcing your ministrations to be faster and more harsh on her clit, though you can't find it in you to complain.

You'd gladly spend the rest of your life buried between her thighs, taste exploding on your tongue.

Meanwhile, Caitlin's doubled down on you, her hand slipping beneath her to slide two fingers inside you and to start pumping against your g-spot, angling perfectly while she suctions on your clit.

You can feel yourself soaked on her digits and you realise just how close you are already.

Definitely not playing fair but you don't go down without a hard fight.

Steph's legs just start to shake around you as your stomach starts to clench and you fight off cumming for as long as it takes to ravish the woman sitting on your face.

Surprising yourself, you only let go when you hear Steph's moans peak above you and her thighs clench tightly around you, stomach tightening as she releases onto your tongue, and moan loudly, vibrations pushing her fully over the edge.

Caitlin's movements slow inside you, making small massaging motions to bring you down and your stomach unclenches as well as your legs.

"God baby, so good for us. So good for me, making me cum so well."

She slips off your head leaning down to capture your now very swollen, sex mussed lips with her own, tasting herself on you instantly.

With a small whine as Caitlin runs her thumb over your still sensitive clit, you shift in the cuffs but don't move to touch either of them at all.

Steph notes it with a knowing smirk and more praise spilling from her lips.

"Well done, baby. Trying so hard to be good for us and not move."

When you gasp suddenly, arching your back, Steph looks back and up at the striker now sitting on her haunches between your legs with a raised brow.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

She's got the strap head pressed into you, hips fighting not to completely bottom out in you just yet.

The head alone has you stretched out deliciously and you can barely stop writhing onto the strap.

Steph moves your wrists to back above your head, hand falling to splay across your bare stomach.

"That's it pretty girl, be still for her. It'll fit easier."

Caitlin slowly pushes into your cunt, the shaft stretching you much like the head and when she bottoms out, you can't help the whimper you let out, your eyes rolling back at the feeling.

Steph's other hand leaves your wrists, finding your throat instead, giving a little squeeze as Caitlin pulls slowly out again.

The lack of air makes it a little harder to pace yourself on the stretch when she pushes back in but you find yourself loving every second of it.

Giving a small go ahead nod, followed by a squeaked moan as she starts finding a pace, leaning forward to rest her hands either side of your head as she starts thrusting faster, leaving you keening into the air of the bedroom, head falling back as moans start to fall from your lips louder than before.

"How's she feel, Cait?"

"Fuck so tight, babe."

Caitlin's panting between thrusts, abs clenching with effort as she pushes the strap into you with vigour.

"Taking her cock so well, baby girl."

Her lips latch onto your neck, teeth grazing the skin as she tries to avoid disturbing the other woman's rhythm too much.

You're a whining, whimpering, keening mess underneath them, now straining to avoid moving your hands anywhere other than where Steph left them.

"You gonna be a good girl for us? Stay nice and still while she fucks you? Makes you cum?"

Her fingers tighten around your throat.

"Wanna be so good for you!"

You're moaning in time with the harsh thrusts into you, Caitlin fully pistoning her hips forwards, hands coming to wrap around your thighs, pulling you down onto her with every thrust forward.

"Fuck, pretty girl, taking me so well."

Her eyes train over your sweat sheened form, hands gripping and nails digging into the flesh of your legs, which you're sure will leave bruises later.

Not that you can find it in you to mind all that much.

"Please! I'm so close!"

Looking to Steph for permission, when she receives a nod, she plants herself again, putting a final effort into her hips slapping against yours, the strap massaging your insides perfectly.

You can barely keep up with the feeling her of rutting into you, and the coil in your stomach tightens and then finally snaps when her thumb moves to rub your clit hastily.

Steph watches on, mesmerised with the way your body reacts to Caitlin absolutely destroying you.

Watches the way your mouth drops open in one final silent scream, legs quivering, stomach clenching and unclenching as the woman slows to a mild thrust after chasing her own high.

You're whimpering softly with your eyes squeezed shut after a moment, the sensitivity getting to be a lot.

"That's it pretty girl. So good for us."

Steph mutters the words into your ear, teeth grazing and tugging on your earlobe, before pressing soft kisses across the skin.

Caitlin slides out slowly, careful not to budge you too much as your breathing calms.

Tossing the strap off to the side, your arms are finally able to come to rest on your stomach again still cuffed together, Steph moving to the bathroom to grab a cloth and then downstairs for water.

Steph returns, undoing the water to let you drink while waiting for Caitlin to come back, running the damp cloth over you, soft praises uttered in your ear.

"That's our sweet girl, did so well."

After a brief moment of shuffling around, you hear the younger of the two yell out from the closet.

"Babe, where's the keys?"

"I thought you had them."

"...."

"Cait.."

"....Uh?"

Steph's head whips to the open closet doorway.

"They should've been in the packaging, check in there."

"..."

Another moment of some shuffling.

"We threw out the packing yesterday, didn't we?"

"CAITLIN JADE FOORD."

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

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part eleven ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

You have been re-married to your former ex-husband John Price for a few days now. Because, at the end of the day, John is a gentleman and would be damned if he were to have a child out of wedlock.

He’s at the grill on your back porch, beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other. A few of his SAS buddies, who came for the small re-marriage ceremony and are leaving tomorrow, are chatting with John while you greet the parents of your children’s friends for your youngest’s birthday party.

“Another little John, huh?” Kyle, one of John’s SAS buddies, nods towards your barely-visible baby bump and takes a sip of his beer.

“Another little John.” You confirm with a grin and rub a hand over your bump that is mostly concealed with your sundress.

“Gonna keep trying until one of ‘em finally looks like you?” He matches your grin.

“That, or until John gets his own personal football team. Whichever comes first.” You joke. Kyle just shakes his head with a chortle.

You look back towards the porch, watching John expertly handle the grill. He catches your eye and gives you a wink, making your heart flutter despite the years and the complications.

"How’ve you been holding up, then?" Kyle asks, a bit more seriously now, his eyes searching yours. “Heard you just found out about Nadia and Theo a few months ago.”

You smile softly, looking out over the yard where the kids are playing, laughter and shouts filling the air.

"It's been... an adjustment. But we're making it work."

Kyle nods, his expression understanding. “‘Course. You two’ve always had something special, haven’t you?”

Before you can respond, a small hand tugs at Kyle’s pant leg. You look down to see your oldest, wide-eyed and bouncing with excitement. "Uncle Kyle, can you play socc- I mean, football with us?"

Kyle grins, setting his beer down on a nearby picnic table. "Sure thing, champ. Let's show these old folks how it's done."

You laugh as Kyle and your oldest head off further in the yard, the other children tow. As you watch them play, you notice Matt walking through the gate with his daughter.

A small knot forms in your stomach as the man approaches, a polite smile on his face. "Hey there," he greets, his eyes flicking to John at the grill before settling back on you.

"Hey, Matt," you reply, trying to keep your tone light. "I'm glad you and Emma could make it."

His daughter, Emma, runs off to join the other kids, and Matt stands there awkwardly for a moment. "How’ve you been?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Good," you say, nodding, blushing. "Things have been good."

John, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, wraps an arm around your waist, the other still holding a beer. "Mark," he says with a nod, his tone neutral. "Good to see you."

“You too, John," Matt replies with a smile. He’s not phased by the purposely incorrect name, or at least he’s not showing it.

You nudge John with your elbow and he covers his smirk by taking a swig of his beer.

Matt eventually joins some of the other parents in watching their children play football or jump around in the bouncy house.

“Why do you have to be such a jerk?” You glance up at John.

“What?” He gives you an unconvincingly innocent look.

You roll your eyes and grab the nearly empty lemonade pitcher from the table. You take in inside to refill it, leaving John outside with everyone else.

You hear the sliding glass door open while you’re slicing fresh lemons to put into the pitcher. John appears behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you into him. His facial hair tickles your neck as he presses a few kisses there.

“C’mon, love. Y’r not upset with me ‘cause of Mitch, are ya?” He murmurs.

“His name is Matt.” You correct, still focusing on the lemonade. “I just don’t know why you have to act like that. His daughter is one of Gabriel’s best friends, I see him all the time at school pick up and at soccer practice. It’s already awkward because of that date we went on; I don’t want it to be even worse every time we see each-“

You gasp when you feel John lifting the skirt of your dress up your thighs.

He hooks his index finger around your thong, moving it to the side for access. “Ya still have feelings f’r him? Hm?”

You shake your head ‘no’, setting the knife and lemon down on the cutting board. John hums as if he’s considering your answer.

You hear his belt coming undone. Then his zipper.

“Saw how flustered and red you got when he was talkin’ to you…” John mumbles, his hardness pressing up against your entrance. “Can’t have that, now, can we?”

You slowly shake your head again.

John’s head pushes past your lips and he sinks into you slowly, wanting you to feel every inch pushing deeper inside of you.

“Y’think he could make you feel like this?” John whispers, his breath hitting the back of your neck. “Think he’d know exactly how you like it? Hm?”

“N-no,” You shake your head again. Your hands ball up into fists as you try not to moan too loudly. “John, the party-“

“It can wait.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

John reaches a hand around to stimulate your throbbing clit with his middle finger while your walls tighten around his thick member.

“All mine,” John grunts as he thrusts deep into your tight little pussy. “I don’ care if I have to fuck you in front of him to make it clear.”

You both come within a few minutes. Your eyes roll back, you can hear your heart beating in your ears.

“Uncle Si? Is my mummy getting the cake?” You hear your youngest ask outside. Your eyes widen for a moment and you almost push John off of you, but Simon casually redirects the birthday girl away from the house and back into the yard.

John finally pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He adjusts your dress for you, gives your ass a slap and takes the pitcher.

“Go get y’rself cleaned up, lovey. We’ll do the cake when you get back.” He presses a kiss to your temple and heads outside.

You stand in the kitchen, dizzy and blushing…

And triumphant, because your little plan to make John jealous worked.

A little drama never hurt.

•••

You lean down to press a kiss to your oldest’s head from where he’s fast asleep, lying on top of Kyle on the living room sofa.

“Little man partied hard.” Kyle grins. You offer to take him up to bed so Kyle could relax more comfortably, but he waved you away. He said something about how he couldn’t let you carry anything, let alone a five year old, while pregnant.

You just shrug and head upstairs. Simon is on his third or fourth bedtime story, and your youngest is trying her hardest to hold her eyes open.

“Goodnight, birthday girl.” You press a kiss to her head.

“Mummy, you forgot uncle Si.” Your now three year old yawns and rubs her eyes with her little fist.

“Goodnight, Simon.” You grin, then press a kiss to the top of his head as well. Your daughter burst into giggles.

“g‘night,” Simon mumbled shyly. “Now, li’l miss. This is our last book, got it?” He warned your toddler in his fake-stern tone.

You finally get to your room and immediately walk to the master bathroom. John’s already in the shower and hasn’t noticed you walking in.

You’re quick to undress and toss the clothes into the hamper before stepping into the shower behind your ex husband.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him close to yourself.

John doesn’t even flinch- he never does. He just continues washing his hair as if you’d been here the whole time.

“Kids asleep?” He asks casually, turning to wrap you up in his own arms.

“Kyle’s got Gabe, Simon has Lins.” You confirm as you let your eyes close, resting your head against John’s bare chest.

“And who has you?” John asks with a lazy smile. He begins to wash your hair for you without you asking, as if it was just natural for him to care for you.

“You have me.” You murmur, still hugging him. “‘m all yours.”

“That’s wha’ I wanted to hear.” John has his hands on either side of your head. He tilts it back just enough for him to give you a proper kiss on the lips before going back to washing you.

<< prev next >>

[justageekk]

Marc Bernal x madridista reader 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

IN WHERE : You are very Madridista and your boyfriend very Culé.

THIS ONE SHOT IS : fem!reader x marc bernal

note: i don't speak english, only spanish n a little portuguese. any errors are the translator's fault.

w: madrid vs barcelona dynamic.

request open!

El Clásico had ended 4-3. Real Madrid —your team, your everything— had lost. Again. And it wasn’t just any defeat. It was one of those that made your chest ache, that got stuck in your throat like a scream that never quite came out. One more frustrating loss against the eternal rival.

And, as always, it didn’t take long for that to seep into your personal life. Because yes, you were a madridista through and through… and your boyfriend —for some ridiculous twist of fate— was not just culé, but a first team player for Barça. Whether he started or sat on the bench, whether he was injured or not, just seeing his name on that jersey made every defeat sting more. Dating a culé was exhausting. Dating one who celebrated Barça’s goals like his life depended on them, even from the sidelines, was straight up punishment.

You fought with him every day. Over jokes. Over stats. Over who had more Champions, who had won more Clásicos in the last five years. But today’s Clásico had hit a nerve. They didn’t just lose. They came back from behind… only to lose again. They had the match —and they let it slip.

And Marc… Marc was being unbearable.

He didn’t do it out of malice —or so he claimed—. But the way he texted you during the match, the smug little smirks, the way he walked into the house with that “told you so” grin after a Madrid loss… it made you want to throw the TV remote at his head. And worse, he was hot. When he wasn’t rubbing Barça victories in your face, he was the best boyfriend ever. But when Barça won? He turned into a demonio.

And today? He was on another level.

Marc walked in while you were still watching the replay of the match on loop.

“Are you watching Lamine’s goal again?” he asked, grinning.

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at him.

“Okay… silent treatment. That’s new.”

You moved to the far side of the couch.

“Not even a ‘congrats’?”

“Do you want to sleep here or out in the hallway?” you snapped, dead serious.

He laughed. The bastard.

“Come on, amor. It’s football. You win, you lose, you cry, you laugh. Today you cry, tomorrow I might—actually no, not tomorrow, because if we win the league, I won’t cry for a while,” he said, flopping down beside you.

You turned toward him, teeth clenched in rage.

“You’re such a dick. You know that?”

“Guapo, injured, and a dick. Full package”, he winked.

“¡Marc!”

“Vale!” he lifted his hands. “No more teasing. Promise.”

“You always say that. And then you make me watch the Barça goals on loop while saying ‘look at that placement’. I’m done!”

“You knew I was a culé when we started,” he said, tilting his head. “You can’t expect me not to enjoy a Clásico win. ¡Es un Clásico, joder!”

“Yeah, but you rub it in.”

“In 2021-2022 you did the same when Madrid won five Clásicos in a row.”

“Shut. Up.”

Marc tried to hold in a laugh. Failed.

“Vale.”

You threw a cushion at him. He half dodged, and it hit him in the shoulder.

“¡Auch!”, he whined, rubbing his arm. “What if I kiss you? Will you forgive one?”

“If you touch me today, I’ll tear off your good knee.”

“You’re kinda sexy when you threaten me, you know that?”

“You’re insufferable, Bernal. Seriously.”

Marc leaned in slowly, ignoring the fire in your eyes, his face inching closer. You could feel his breath —mint gum.

“Just one kiss. Consolation. Even if it’s on the cheek.”

“If you so much as graze me, I’m kicking you out.”

And before you could react, Marc closed the distance in a flash and kissed you.

Then kissed you again.

And again.

Short, insistent kisses, and then finally, he slipped his tongue between your lips without asking, claiming your mouth like it was just another match he’d won. No warning. No time to think. Just him —invading you.

His hands stayed firm on your face, holding you like it was tender, but you knew better. It was control.

And when he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, he was still right there —close enough to count his lashes. His breathing was uneven, his lips wet. So were yours. You could still feel his saliva on your mouth.

Then came the smile.

That unbearable, smug, culé smile.

And he whispered:

“Visca el Barça.”

You shoved him with both hands, hard against his chest. He stumbled back a few steps, surprised.

Then, without a word, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Not gently. Not subtly. Like you were erasing him.

“Disgusting, Marc”, you spat. “Get out.”

“You’re seriously kicking me out?”

“I told you not to kiss me. You mocked me. And then that phrase. Leave.”

He laughed —right in your face.

And then, without warning, he lunged at you.

Literally.

You didn’t have time to fight back. You just felt the soft cushion of the couch behind you, his body on top of yours, and his arms locking you in.

“Marc, get off!”, you shouted, trying to shove him, but he was stronger.

“Shhh”, he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. “I just want a hug. I’m celebrating, joder. No seas pesada.”

You squirmed to get away, but he was faster. He grabbed your wrists —not tightly, just enough— and with a swift move, placed one of your legs around his hip. Then the other.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”, you snarled, writhing beneath him.

“Getting you to stop fighting me”, he said. “You’re always calmer when I hug you.”

“Don’t hug me!”

“Too late”, he murmured, pulling you tighter against him, face buried in your neck again. “You’re warmer like this.”

“I’m warm because I’m furious!”

He chuckled against your skin. “Yeah, yeah… mi madridista enojada. Just stay still. Five minutes. I swear if Madrid wins next time, I’ll let you stomp on me.”

“¡Marc!”

“Just five.”

❝ justageekk, 2025 ❞

[httpswritings]

i'll be here to save the day

alexia putellas x reader x daughter; 489 words

You were trying to calm your daughter down.

Anna, two and a half years old, the most confident but also the most sensitive girl.

You always told her how unique she was for having such a sensitive and empathetic personality, but deep down you were very worried.

The world was very cruel, especially for girls, and since you had found out you were expecting one, you feared for her safety.

Anna had been very fragile today.

She hadn't seen her mamà since yesterday, so when she saw Alexia through the tv screen playing a match, she pouted.

Her bottom lip was trembling and then she started crying.

Alexia loved football and the life she had to live, but she adored her daughter, and she felt very guilty for leaving her side.

“Annita, Mamà will be there in two days.”

Your daughter couldn't still understand the concept of time, so that didn't calm her down.

“I know you're very sad, my love, and that's okay. You can cry as much as you want, sí? I'm here to hold you.”

“I want Mamà!”

“I know, bebé. And Mamà wants you too. She's very happy to see you very soon.”

Alexia scored a goal and looked directly into the camera.

She did a sign with her hands to form the letter “A” and blew a kiss, to then make the special greeting she had with Anna.

“Look! Mamà is doing your greeting!”

Still, Anna didn't calm down.

She didn't understand why her Mamà was on the tv and not by her side.

“Annita, bebé... Come here, my love.”

You switched the tv off and got up from the sofa with your daughter in your arms.

You went to your bedroom and opened the closet.

You let your daughter choose three t-shirts from Alexia: The first one was for her to go to sleep. She chose one of that had some sparkles. The second was for her medium-sized teddy bear. The third one was for you. 

“Anna sleep.”

“Yes, bebé. We're going to sleep now.”

“Mami sleep.”

“Exactly, my love. I'm going to sleep next to you so tomorrow we can play with your dinosaurs since we wake up!”

“Mamà sleep.”

You could see how fragile your daughter was feeling, and you tried your best to not cry in front of her.

“Yes. Mamà will sleep thinking about us and when she comes home, we can all play together and watch SpongeBob!”

Surprisingly, Anna curled up to your side and your heart broke, noticing that she was no longer waiting for Alexia to arrive.

She held onto her teddy bear, that had Alexia's t-shirt on.

“Mamà here,” she said, pointing at the stuffed animal.

You just kissed her front, unable to find the right words to minimize her sadness.

Eventually, she fell asleep, and you couldn't hold your tears back anymore.

“Goodnight Ale,” you said, looking at the teddy bear.

[wosoloml]

red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader

summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.

your life was always connected because you are meant to be.

warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl

from this request

a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded

wc: 1,739 words

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.

A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the women’s football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.

It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.

I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.

"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"

I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.

"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and I’m swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.

I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.

It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.

But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.

----

"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.

"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."

After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, I’m finally done. I’m now a certified sports journalist with a focus on women’s football. I couldn’t be happier.

"Now it’s time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I can’t wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."

Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, she’s right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."

----

I’ve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Women’s Football Club.

When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.

It’s already my second week, and I’m still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You weren’t exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people you’d admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.

But it’s different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadn’t spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.

Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual “How’s it going?” Each interaction was brief, professional, and—you told yourself—entirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.

She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about her even after work. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

---

Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didn’t realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.

'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.

I don’t want to admit it, but knowing I wasn’t paired up with Lotte for today’s interviews made me a bit sad. That’s why I’m even happier to spot her here during my little break.

She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, how’s life in the media world? Still surviving?'

I chuckled at her words. 'It’s going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so I’m a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? I’m sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadn’t stopped talking. It was just a simple question—no need to turn it into a whole essay.

She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? You’re very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"

I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.

"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a women’s football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.

I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "I’ve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."

I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guard—wow. We’ve been so close and never talked to each other."

“It’s like we were orbiting each other,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “Like we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after she’d said them.

---------

Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"

"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we’ve been circling each other our whole lives.”

This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I can’t even process how life always seemed to bring us together.

“Maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe it is.”

-------

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.

One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice quiet, “I’ve always believed in timing. That everything happens when it’s meant to.”

You looked at her, your heart full. “And what about us? What does this timing mean?”

She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. “It means we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And for the first time, you believed her.

[enwoso]

how do i say goodbye | alessia russo

WARNINGS: upsetting themes, talks of death, overdose, suicide, grief etc. please do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable.

masterlist

read pink skies first before continuing!

"so how you feeling?" alessia asked a slight wince on her face as she asked, she knew it was a sensitive topic. something you always tried to deflect whenever asked but she wasn’t asking about you personally - well maybe she was kind of - but she was more directing it at your injury.

as she flopped onto her bed in the room she’d called home for the past five days while being on international camp. you on the other line, your room dimmed as you lay in your bed the soft hum of your tv playing in the background. the room you hadn’t left in three days.

getting called up to play for you country was a special feeling that never went away each time it happened but playing with your best friend for england, well there was no feeling like it.

so naturally when alessia seen your name also on the team sheet she was ecstatic, however that quickly went away within four hours as it was quickly announced that you’d withdrawn because of a knee injury and would instead spend the international break rehabbing at arsenal.

alessia had, had her suspicions about your knee injury that seemed to of popped up out of nowhere but nevertheless pushed it to the back of her mind and instead just focused on trying to help you get back into the swing of playing football again.

little did alessia know in that moment was that you’d already played your last match together.

“yeah it’s- um its getting there” you nodded, but it coming out as if you were trying to convince yourself that your knee was getting there. alessia humming with her usual bright smile as she gave you some positive notes to help spur your recovery on quicker. the words going over your head quicker than she said them.

alessia spent the next hour telling you everything that had happened that day, like she’d done the past five days. filling you in on every detail from the silly jokes ella had told her that made her laugh, to her telling you about how grace reminded her of a sloth cause of how long she’s hug her for to even the coffee she’d drank this morning with lotte.

you sat listening to her little ramble, the way she couldn’t tell you the jokes ella had told her without a giggle slipping out in between each word and the way she tried to sound so agitated by graces hugs you could see the adoration in her eyes and the way her lip quirked.

some of her words morphing into one as you lay, an empty feeling filled your chest as you laid in your room, the same hoodie on with the same toothpaste stain on it, your hair in the same messy bun from days ago that your hood covered.

“and your still coming to watch tomorrow right?” alessia asked, the match being a late afternoon kick off at wembley as you hummed a small response as alessia’s smile grew just that little bit bigger.

“yeah.. think leah said she had the tickets and all that sorted” you told alessia as she made a little joke about your organisation skills, you not being one for planning more just someone tells you the time and date and you would show up.

“good, well i’ll come by yours after and we can watch man on fire” alessia smiled, knowing a groan was going to come from you about the choice of movie. it being the blondes favourite at the moment meaning you had seen it at least six times already.

“you and that film! i’ll agree only if you bring the jammy dodgers!” you say with a small smug smile, knowing the blonde couldn’t resist and the fact they were your favourite biscuits — alessia couldn’t say no.

“fine! i’ll stop on the way and get them for you!”

YOURNAME🩷 good luck today lessi, go show wembley how much of a star girl you are!

delivered 01:44pm

YOURNAME🩷 and sorry i can’t make it to see you play — just not feeling too good today.

delivered 01:45pm

maybe if alessia had of seen that message the day wouldn’t have progressed the way it did but she’s didn’t see the message. she thought you were sat in the stands with leah, like you’d told the blonde the night before.

instead the game kicked off, the scheduled time of two thirty. alessia in the starting line up even getting herself a goal as she celebrated with the fans and her teammates. pointing to the corner where you were supposed to be sat.

expect you never got to see the goal.

as what alessia didn’t know was that while she was kicking a ball around a pitch in front of ninety thousand people that there were a group of paramedic’s trying to shock some life back into your body.

coming to the end of the game the team was doing there usual lap of honour as alessia spots leah in the corner of her eye with one of the coaching staff which works with england but as the blonde scanned the area for your face you were no where to be found.

“leah? where’s y/n?” alessia asked concern laced her voice. a small flash of confusion took over leah’s face as she paused her conversation with the staff member, “did she not tell you?”

“tell me what exactly..?” alessia trailed off hurrying leah into an answer as she didn’t exactly know what leah was trying to get at.

“that she couldn’t make it, said she didn’t feel too great. i thought you knew already, she told me she had messaged you” leah shrugged before walking off and leaving less stood slightly confused - did leah not ask why you weren’t coming?

“wait- leah…” alessia called out but leah couldn’t hear the blonde. an uneasy feeling took over alessia’s body. something didn’t feel right as the whole stadium seemed to fall silence in her ears as she made her way over to the tunnel. the fans scream for her as well as a couple of her teammates calling out her name but it was no use alessia didn’t hear them.

getting back to her spot in the changing room, she rummaged through her bag for her phone. a sigh leaving her lips when she saw your message but still her mind was still filled with panic.

it wasn’t like you to just message out the blue that you weren’t coming to the match and even if you couldn’t make it you’d watch and live update her through messages.

alessia refreshed her phone thinking maybe your live updates hadn’t come through but no, nothing. just the two messages.

by this point the rest of the team was coming back into the changing room as alessia rushed around trying to get changed and on her way to your apartment. her mind not seeming to be able to rest without knowing if you were okay.

“less you don’t need to be in that much of a hurry we aren’t going out till six!” ella joked as she sat beside the blonde, a little giggle coming from the brunette but soon her smile dropped when she saw her best friends look of panic.

“what’s wrong?” ella asked as alessia sighed, “nothing i just promised y/n i would go and see her”

“right. how's her knee?” ella asked as alessia hummed a small nod, “it’s good- erm i need to go tooney. i’ll call you later yeah” alessia rushed out and before the brunette even had a chance to respond the blonde was out the changing room door.

a few glances to the door from the other girls as they then looked to ella who just shrugged, not knowing the answer to their questions that their faces were asking without even saying a word.

three knocks of the door was all it took before the door slowly opened, a face appearing which was definitely not who alessia thought would be answering the door.

“oh- alessia?” your mum slight surprise in her voice, clearing not expecting the blonde to be stood at the door. alessia stood her hands filled with all your favourite things that you like when your not feeling too good as well as your beloved jammy dodgers.

“hey mrs y/l/n, is um y/n in- i told her i was coming by after my game..” alessia trailed off, noticing the slight change in your mums face. a sadder look appearing as your mum looked towards the floor.

“i’m sorry alessia, i think it’s best you come inside” your mum took a deep breath in as she moved deeper into your apartment, alessia clicking the front door shut with her foot.

there being a strange feeling in the air as she walked down the small hallway, it being littered with small reminiscences of you. your shoes that you would always leave by the door, alessia forever tripping over them any time she came over.

the place felt eerie as alessia followed your mum deeper into your apartment. alessia had a strange feeling in her stomach, the same stomach dropping feeling when you get caught breaking your mums case a child.

expect this was worse.

a vase could be glued back together. a life, not so much.

“take a seat love” your mum pointed to the couch as she sat on the one opposite alessia as she sunk into the soft couch.

your mum taking a few deep breaths still looking at the floor before looking up towards alessia, tears building in her eyes. alessia’s head was spinning, something had happened. but what, well she was probably wishing the day never happened.

“um there’s no way to really say this but- um y/n, she’s-” your mums voice was shaky as she spoke, alessia on edge as her knee bounced up and down awaiting the next words.

“is she okay?” alessia asked it coming out as a whisper as her bottom lip began to wobble, fear taking over her body. watching as your mum shook her head no.

“i’m so sorry less.. but she’s gone”

the words fell on deaf ears as alessia almost didn’t hear what your mum had said it seemingly not wanting to go into her head but once it did her body crumbled like a brick wall. as her tears fell, your mum getting up immediately and wrapping the young girl in a hug.

“no, no- she, no” alessia choked out over her tear as your mum tried her best to soothe alessia as they both cried in each others arms. "she's at peace now sweetheart" your mum whispered into alessia's hair as she soothed the blonde as she sobbed.

the pair stayed in each others arms both choked up with tears, as once grieved the lost of their daughter, their own blood while the other grieved the loss of their best friend, a sister maybe not by blood but sisters by hearts.

alessia was the first to move as she looked to your mum with puffy red eyes, your mums face mirroring the same puffy eyes. "how'd- she. just how?" alessia managed to get out, part of her didn't want to know how or what you suffered but the other part would put her head to rest knowing you were not longer in pain.

"she- overdosed, they tried - they really did try to save her but she was already gone" your mum explained as a shiver went down alessia's spine as an image appeared in her brain as she shook her head trying to rid of it.

"i should have realised- with the injury she supposedly had- i-" alessia rushed out as she brought her hands up to cover her face, a pout forming on your mums face.

"alessia its not your fault, you weren't to know, y/n wouldn’t have blamed you." your mum comforted the blonde englufing her in a hug, "she's no longer in pain anymore"

the two of them stayed like that for a few moments later until alessia calmed down a little, your mum offering to make her something warm to drink. the afternoon had been a lot of the blonde to have to come to terms with.

your mum had walked off to make alessia a cup of tea, the blondes eyes wet as her bottom lip jutted out as she wondered her way towards the bathroom, stopping slightly as she reached your bedroom door.

her fingers lingered on the door handle as hesitation filled her body wondering if she should actually cross the threshold. a small movement and her foot was across the carpet as she made her way deeper into your room. her eyes filling up with tears once again, it smelled just like you.

alessia's hand dragged across the bedding which was made neatly, the room was spotless which for you was a rare thing. the softness of the blanket as alessia gripped it, as her legs seem to get weaker and a single tear slid down her cheek as her body slipped down the side of your bed. she stayed in your room, not wanting to move from the comfort of what was once your space.

alessia couldn’t tell you how long she stayed slouched down the side of your bed, in your room. maybe it had been ten minutes, three hours or maybe even a week.

she’d sat and cried with your mum and then she came and sat in your room, where many of days and nights had been spent. alessia’s eyes felt heavy, they were dry and puffy and most definitely red.

as she sat taking in the memories as she stared at the wall where small little photos scattered across the wall, as sense of emptiness filled the room. replacing the usual warmth she would get each time she entered. boxes already filled the room with your things packed in like you had never even existed.

alessia sat her legs outstretched, her fingers toying with the edges of two letters one had just been folded over, the other had been placed in an envelope. alessia’s name written in the nearest of handwriting, a little heart as the dot on the letter i in her name.

she’d read the one that had just been folded over, it being a short goodbye letter. one you probably scribbled in less than twenty minutes but it did reference the other neater letter having the answers that alessia would probably want to the questions that circled in her head.

like why. why’d you leave so soon. why didn’t you tell alessia you’d been struggling for so long. just why.

but she couldn’t bring it in herself to even open the other one, she didn’t think her heart could handle it reading it right now.

“oh less, i’m so sorry” alessia’s head slowly turned to the soft coo of the voice, it was her mum. a sad smile across her face as carol came closer. alessia not making any attempt to move, she couldn’t.

alessia’s mum wrapping her in a tight hug as the walls crashed down again, “she’s gone mum, what am i supposed to do without her..” alessia choked out through tears and sniffles as carol shushed her trying to calm her daughter down.

“let’s get you home, yeah?” carol asked as she pulled away from the hug, alessia still filled with tears as she nodded. small hiccups coming from her as she tried her best to pull herself up from your bedroom floor.

the envelope still held tightly in her hand, as she took on last look around your room. knowing it would probably be the last time she’d ever step foot in there.

a heavy sigh coming from alessia as she looked towards the small teddy that was laid in your neatly made bed, a little bunny that you couldn’t sleep without. every away day, every tournament that small bunny would come with.

alessia took a step towards the little bunny teddy, a little hesitant at first but then slowly reached out to it picking it up and lifting it up to her face. the soft fur as it sunk into her skin, it still smelling just like you. it feeling like you were stood right in front of alessia and boy how much she wished you were and that this wasn’t the reality she was facing now.

but unfortunately it was.

the drive home was long even though it was only a fifteen minute drive, the rain tapped against the glass as carol tried her best to converse with her daughter but alessia was having non of it just the occasional hum as her head leant against the cold glass.

alessia felt empty. she'd cried enough tears to fill a bathtub twice over and now she just felt numb. her eyes were sore, red as well as puffy. she'd lost a part of her.

when alessia finally got home she changed into different clothes feeling a little lighter but her whole body soon felt heavy again as she sat on her couch, your small bunny stuffy in her hand as she looked at the photo of the two of you from the euros final that held pride of place on the blondes tv cabinet as the blonde picked at the food her mum had made for her.

“are you sure your going to be okay on your own less? i can-“ carol asked as she stood leaning against the kitchen island, having sorted out alessia some dinner making sure the blonde actually had a hot meal in her especially after todays events.

“yes! i’ll be fine mum, i just- just need some time. i’ll message if i need anything” alessia’s tone coming across as snappy at first but once she realised she mumbled a small sorry before her tone got softer again. carol opening her mouth to say something but alessia quickly shut her down. “i promise mum, i will”

with that carol nodded, making the blonde a hot drink before leaving, kissing alessia on her head as alessia watched her mum walk out of her front door, waiting the door to click shut.

as soon as it did, she scrambled around placing the hot drink on the coffee table as she found her phone. her eyes glossy as she tapped away at the screen looking for a certain contact, a voice she needed right now.

“hello?- less?.. less?” ella paused, a hint of confusion as to why alessia hadn’t said anything.

“ella-“ alessia voice was shaky and she knew if she said more than two words she’d crumble again.

“less what’s up? how’s y/n, how’s her knee?” ella rattled out as the background noise got quieter, alessia wincing slightly at the sound of your name as she let out a few sniffles — it obvious to ella that something was up with her best friend.

“less, what’s happened? are you okay?” ella spoke fast as she was trying to get answers to her questions. the panic in her voice was evident.

“its y/n- she’s- she’s um” alessia tried to get out fast as she sobbed but she couldn’t bring herself to actually say the word as it hadn’t even processed in the blondes head that you were actually gone.

“woah- slow down less, you not makin’ any sense!” ella tried her best to calm alessia down, telling her to take deep breaths on the other side of the line, as her mind raced with what the end of the sentence was going to be.

“y/n- she’s gone.”

“what do you mean she’s gone? gone where?” ella asked her mind freezing as it hadn’t clicked what alessia meant as in reality that was the last thing she expected her best friend to even mean never mind actually say.

“she’s dead, ella.”

alessia

liked by leahwilliamson and 1,092,635 others

alessia today has truly been one of the hardest moments of my life - stepping back onto the pitch and not seeing you there. not being there to walk out onto the pitch with. not being able to watch you eat your jammy dodgers on the coach there.

y/n, you were one of the truest friends i ever had.

when you lose a true friend, the hardest part isn't the big moments, it's the small ones - the ones you take for granted. it's the everyday things which were boring but they made so fun, and so meaningful.

we were european champions together, we travelled to the other side of the world and made it to a world cup final, we played together for the same club. we did so many cool things. but you know what i miss most?

is just seeing you everyday, sitting for hours drinking coffee, your passion, your energy each day even when maybe i wasn’t in the best of moods — you knew how to brighten my day.

you touched so many lives in just 24 years. you wanted to change the world more than anyone i've ever known. you wanted football to be for everyone. this is very close to my heart and everyone who knew y/n personally. i'll be honest it's taken me a while to actually type this, it's still very raw for me.

with y/n y/ln in your life you were never alone. she was always there for others, she always found a way. she was always the one cheering the loudest for others. if you could bottle her energy, the world would be a much better place.

but with a little help her spirit, her warmth, and her legacy will live on. we will make sure of that.

i'll miss you forever. keep painting the skies pink my friend. i love you.

with love, your alessia<3

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