#And i had Lionel way back when

[starsallalight]

Pfft, no. What do you mean? I don't have a villager bias. 🙈

[fairyroses]

He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.

— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)

+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):

[wp-blaze]

Stepping Out on the Waves

So many of you have been following my health journey for sometime now…you’ve covered me with encouragement, support and prayer and celebrated my wins and victories with me. And I want to thank you so much!! It’s an honor to get to share my story and to hopefully be an encouragement as well…because we are […]

[getting-messi]

Back in 2018, an Argentine journalist gave Messi his mom’s lucky red ribbon when the team was struggling.

Fast forward to 2022, Messi still has the ribbon as Argentina become World Champions🥹💙

[natalievoncatte]

Lena squared herself up after she stepped from the elevator.

This has taken considerable work. She’d had to arrange for her absence from boarding school to go unnoticed, or at least, unremarked upon. If Lillian got wind of her running away, she’d have been skinned alive. Perhaps literally. Since her adoptive father’s death, she’d actually looked forward to school, and to being away from Lillian’s abuse. Lex was now the only thing keeping her from Lena, and Lex was preoccupied with his project.

Her brother had been away for school for some time, but they had summers off together at least. When Lex took over the company when he turned 21, he grew distant and aloof, spending more time with his friend Clark or at work than with family.

With his absence came Lillian.

Still, she had managed to build a support network. Frank, her bodyguard-slash-driver was Lex’s man, but he was useful. Lena had spent months buttering him up to participate in her plan: she needed wheels.

In the meantime she’d acquired blackmail material. The head master at the school gave her a broad latitude after she implied that she might expose certain proclivities of his. That gave her the time away she needed. She’d carefully negotiated a higher allowance from Lex in exchange for accelerating her studies in anticipation of beginning her undergraduate studies at sixteen, which was a triviality for her anyway.

Lena walked down the hall, heart pounding against the backpack clutched to her chest. Each step felt heavy, alive with portent.

She could turn back now. She could turn her back now.

What if she was wrong? Paranoid, addled, as crazy as her mother, just like Lillian said? What if she was about to not only blow up her whole life, but slander her brother. If this went sideways, she didn’t know what exactly would happened to her, but Lillian had once, while tipsy on whisky from Lionel’s stash, told Lena that if not for Lex, she’d have Lena garroted with piano wire and buried on the estate, and like any bag of trash, no one would notice she’d been disposed of.

When she told Lex, her hands shook like leaves. He looked at her for a long cold moment and she worried that he’d slap her or scream or throw her out of the house, but he simply said, “I’ll talk to her about it.”

He did. She never made another threat.

He also brought her a wooden box, ornate and polished. Lex sat next to Lena and opened the box, showing her the contents, lying on red velvet. A five shot snub nose revolver and two speedloaders.

“I’ll teach you how to use this,” Lex said, grimly. “I know you’re smart enough to know if you need to. If anyone tries to harm you, kill them. I’ll clean it up.”

Lena had been terrified of it for months, even as she enjoyed the shooting lessons from Lex, given in a remote part of the estate near a burbling creek, the shots cracking the morning peace and shaking dew from leaves.

She had the gun in her backpack, and her hands were shaking.

The other contents of her bag were a weapon far more devastating. She was about to fire it and she’d have to accept the consequences.

Finally, she stood outside the door. Apartment 18B. The name on the lease was Lois Lane, but according to Lena’s reconnaissance, Clark Kent had been living with her virtually full time for the last six months, not long after something changed in his relationship with Lena’s brother.

Lena’s hand hung before the door for a good minute before she knocked, weekly. She hadn’t considered what might happen if they were simply not home. Her legs felt watery and her eyes burned. She knocked again. She was committed now.

The door swung open and Lois Lane stood before her. She was beautiful in an understated way, obscured by limp hair in a chaotic bun, rumpled clothes, and the stink of coffee on her breath.

“Who- what? Kid, what do you want?”

“I need to see Clark Kent. Is he here?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Lena Luthor.”

There was a gust of wind behind her, and Kent stepped into view.

“Lena?” said Clark. “Lex’s little sister? What are you doing here?”

Lena’s throat went tight. She swallowed hard, and as she anticipated, his demeanor changed. He softened. He craned forward slightly, studying her intently, and his brows shot up when looked at her bag.

He was checking her vital signs and he’d spotted the gun. In the bag.

“He knows you’re Superman,” Lena choked out, “and he’s going to kill you.”

Lois glanced at Clark with a stunned, stunned wide expression. Then, she grabbed Lena and yanked her inside, slamming the door. Lena squeaked.

“How do you know that? Lex knows? Did he tell you? What do you mean he wants to kill Clark?”

“Hey,” Clark said, crouching beside Lena to bring himself to her level, resting a comforting hand on her slight shoulder. “Take a breath, Lena. You’re safe here.”

In Lena’s plan, she was going to begin explaining, starting with how she deduced his identity and lay out what she discovered in his files. That was her plan, but no plan survived first contact with the enemy.

Lena began to sob.

Superman knelt beside her and removed his glasses, and enveloped Lena Luthor in a warm, protective hug. She sobbed harder, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” Lois whispered.

She drew the gun out of the bag and checked it with professional, practiced familiarity, dumping the shells into her hand.

“I think she’s telling the truth.”

Clark nodded.

Over the next hour, Lena was swept to Lois’s big couch and sat in the middle while the pair sat on either side of her. When she was hungry, Clark went out to get her favorite guilty pleasure meal, a big greasy burger and fries, and a milkshake too. Between bites, she explained everything, telling them about her brother’s insane plan to turn the sun red.

They believed it all. Lena had receipts.

Eventually, Lena was exhausted, everything had been said, and she sat with dull shock on the couch and stared at the black mirror of a blank television set, marveling at how small and helpless she looked, like a drowned rat.

“Why don’t you lay down for a while?” Lois said, gently. “Here, I’ll put something on the TV for you.”

Lena didn’t make it ten minutes in before she was asleep, curled tightly on one end of the couch with a pillow under her head.

She woke sometime later. It was dark now and she heard voices on the far side of the apartment.

“I called Bruce. He said he’s in, and he’s bringing reinforcements. I’m going to try to get a Green Lantern on board. We have to move fast. Nevermind me, if Lex does this, millions of innocent people will die. We’ll have to move fast.”

“What about the girl?” said Lois. “She can’t go home now. We have to get her somewhere safe.”

“I have to get you both somewhere safe. I should probably come up with a reason to get the building evacuated. One Lex realizes he’s been caught out, he’ll come after both of you.”

“You’re right.”

“I want you to go out,” said Clark. “Make it look like you’re heading out to a convenience store. Bruce is sending Alfred to pick you up, he should be here in an hour. I have somewhere else in mind for Lena.”

“Where?”

“It’s better if I don’t tell you, just in case.”

When he emerged from the back bedroom, Clark Kent was resplendent, clothed in the persona of Superman.

“Lena?” he said, gently. “We have to go. I’ll take you somewhere safe, where your brother won’t find you.”

Lois joined him. “You’re going to put on some of my clothes, and I’m going to check your hair. You can’t take anything with you. Lex Luthor might have been tracking you the entire time.”

Lena’s stomach dropped. What if she was right? That might be a move Lex would play, tracking Lena so that he could use her against his enemy. Lex had become cold, single minded. Lena was wondering how long it would be until she was disposable.

“Okay,” said Lena.

“I’m going to have to fly you.”

Lena did as she was told. She put on an outfit that belonged to Lois, a hilariously oversized Gotham U sweatshirt and leggings. When it was time, Superman bundled her up in his cape.

“I’m scared of heights.”

“I would never drop you,” he said.

Lena screamed when he took off. She was glad for the cape, glad she couldn’t see the ground. She curled up around him and pressed her eyes tightly closed, wondering exactly how fast they were going.

The landing came surprisingly fast. He’d alighted on the grassy lawn of a lovely beach house. Lena smelled something baking and heard voices inside. Clark knocked on the door.

A girl, a little older than Lena, opened the door. Golden curls spilled over her muscular shoulders, and she wore an oversized pair of glasses that did nothing to dull the endless depths of her blue eyes. There was something profoundly sad behind the curiosity in those eyes. She looked at Lena with mild confusion.

Lena stared back. There was a wild stirring in her stomach, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.

Then, the girl addressed Clark in a rapid, clipped, and utterly strange sounding language.

It hit Lena like a shockwave.

They were speaking Kryptonian.

“Lena,” said Superman, turning to her. “This is Kara Zor-El, my cousin. The last daughter of Krypton.”

[deadsetobsessions]

As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones

I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good

——

Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!

Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.

And now, they’re paying for it.

Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.

“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”

“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.

Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.

“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”

“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”

“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”

“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.

“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.

“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.

“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”

“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”

Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.

“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.

“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.

“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.

“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”

“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.

“What is that?” Dick asked.

“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”

“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.

“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.

“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”

“We know!” Lionel chirped.

“Base, come in.”

“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.

“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.

Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.

“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”

“Yes.”

Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”

“…Ah.”

“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.

A moment of silence before-

“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”

On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”

“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”

Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.

“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”

“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”

“No! That’s the fuel tank!”

“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”

As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.

Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.

“That’s- that’s Archy?”

“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.

“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”

Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”

“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”

Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.

——

Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.

“Something happen?” He managed to ask.

“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”

“…I see.”

Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.

“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”

Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.

“You can’t escape the question!”

Batman ran faster.

[gwendolynshepherds]

It's been, like, 24 hours and I'm already seeing people misinterpret the ending of Glass Onion. Spoilers, obviously, so keep scrolling if you haven't seen it yet.

No one had a change of heart in that movie. No one found their conscience at the end, no one on that island cared about Andi except Helen and Benoit. Everyone else on that island only cared about looking out for themselves, and they knew Miles, their cash cow, was going down, and the only way to save themselves from drowning was to turn on him.

Claire even said how fucked she was earlier in the movie. If being at a party with a murdered men's rights activist and a consummate racist is bad for her numbers, how bad will will being at a party where the Mona fucking Lisa was burned to a crisp be?

Birdie's relying on the payout from Miles to stay afloat, and if he goes down, there's no one to catch her when she goes down for the sweatshop.

Lionel has worked for Miles and vouched for him way too many times in front of way too many people. His only way out is to trash Miles and use him as a stepping stool to try to revive his career.

Whiskey's intermediary to fame is dead, which actually takes out a big problem for her since she wanted to distance herself from Duke's stupid MRA shit anyway, but she still wants to become an influencer and go into politics. Insert "I helped solve a murder" clickbait, but she can't do that until she has the witnesses to back her up.

Peg knows that as long as Birdie's safe, so is she, so taking down Miles and blaming all Birdie's problems on him is in her best interest, but like Whiskey, she doesn't have the social pull to do that on her own.

It was never about getting justice for Andi, regardless of how much she deserved it. The moral of the story was that rich people will always look out for themselves, their money, and their power. Nothing else matters.

[wp-blaze]

Financial Fumbles: Fail to Plan, Plan to Fail – Avoid Debt, Budget Smart, and Secure Your Retirement!

Let’s dive into the ocean of financial challenges. Yep, we’re talking about managing debt, budgeting like a boss, saving for retirement (hello, golden years!), and handling those sneaky unexpected expenses that seem to pop up when you least expect them. First off, let’s tackle the beast known as debt. It’s like that stubborn stain on […]

[meazalykov]

she was the golden girl

uswnt x (romantic) aitana bonmatí x (platonic) fridolina rolfo x uswnt!reader

what happened in a world where reader plays in the 2023 World Cup after winning the 2019 World Cup?

warnings: tiny bit of angst and sadness, google translated spanish.

part two (part one here)

I remembered when I stood on the french pitch, surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, sometimes I can’t believe that it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my best friend Mallory, threatening to spill over as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind. 

My hands trembled as I clutched the World Cup trophy tightly to my chest, feeling the weight of my team's triumph. The third goal in the world cup was scored by me, the youngest goalscorer in a Women’s World Cup final. The journey to this moment had been grueling, filled with sacrifices, sweat, and endless dedication. But looking back, all the pain and hardship were worth it.

Before the World Cup, the Champions League medal hung proudly around my neck, a testament to the skill and hard work I’ve displayed on the field. At the time, Lyon was the club of my life. I believed that I would’ve never left the french institution, extending my contract as much as I possibly could’ve. The memories of each game, each goal, each victory rushed back to me, overwhelming my senses.

And then there was the Ballon d'Or many months after both competitions, the ultimate recognition of my individual excellence. To be acknowledged as the best, only at the age of 19 years old, was a dream I had hardly dared to entertain. Yet there I was, being the second woman holding the prestigious award in my small hands, my name etched into football history forever as I stood beside Lionel Messi who received the men’s d’or. 

Surrounded by my teammates, coaches, and supporters, I felt a surge of gratitude and humility. This moment wasn't just about me; it was about the collective effort of everyone who had believed in my skills along the way. I will never forget it.

Four years later, It's 2023. I am 23 years old and still impressing the fans around the World. However, the scars of my ACL injury were still fresh, a constant reminder of the hurdles I had overcome to be here after the harsh 2022 year.

Playing for Lyon had once been a dream come true. I’ll never forget that experience. When I signed to Lyon from Portland Thorns at the age of 18, I was overwhelmed in joy. I needed that new challenge, and that challenge earned me the best awards, collectively and individually. But, the fallout from my December 2021 injury had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The club I had once called home had felt more like a distant memory as I felt forced to make the difficult decision to part ways and start a new life in the sunny Spanish city.

Now, I wore the red and blue Barcelona jersey onto the pitch. The transfer left me heartbroken, at first, now I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road to recovery after my ACL injury in France had been long and arduous, filled with doubts and setbacks. Sometimes, I believed that my prime occurred at the age of 19, instead of the predicted 24-30 years old. Yet here I am, defying the odds once again to represent my country on the world stage in two months.

Sometimes the memories of my victories with Lyon and the United States lingered in the back of my mind, serving as both motivation and a reminder of what was at stake. The Champions League trophy I had lifted with Lyon and the World Cup I had claimed with the United States were testaments to my talent and resilience. But now, I lifted the Champions League trophy with Barcelona. 

After scoring the second goal of the final, with Patricia before me and Fridolina afterwards, the gold hung beautifully around my neck. It was my fourth time I've felt such a high amount of glory, but the happy tears still came as if it were the first. 

A month later, I am on a fourteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand. As The plane soared through the clouds and I sat in my business class seat, my hands gripping the armrests tightly and my heart pounded in my chest.

“Y/n?” I took out my airpods when I heard the faint sound of my name coming from outside of them. I turned to my right and saw my teammate and captain, Lindsey, looking at me with a confusing look. 

“Hey.” I joked, pretending like my stress wasn’t visible for everyone to see. 

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. In my head, I debated on if I wanted to lie and say yes, just so I didn’t have to burden her with my stress. However, she’s known me for many years, the woman would notice my lie from miles away. 

“Not really. I’m just–a bit nervous.” I swallowed. The blonde girl nodded her head in understanding as she rested her arm beside mine. 

“That's understandable. Is it the competition that's bothering you? I mean– we are defending champions so we have a lot to prove.” Lindsey asked. I took a deep breath as my mind shifted to a particular person from my Barcelona team. 

“No– It's about–um.” I stopped speaking. I didn’t want her to cloud my head during the competition, as we both promised ourselves that we would play as rivals, not lovers. 

“Aitana?” Lindsey questioned, but yet finished what I would’ve said. I noticed my head as my face was plastered with sadness.

“yeah.” I mumbled. The Lyon midfielder looked at me with a questionable look, wondering if there were problems between the Spanish girl and I. 

“I mean– there's no problem between us. However we prioritize football first you know? we both agreed that during the competition, we wouldn’t talk much.. just so we can focus on this.” I ranted. I’m not stressed because of a possible match between Spain and the United States, I know that I’ll miss the shorter woman a lot. Also, what if we stop talking and a third factor might influence our relationship moving forward? 

“That's good that you’re prioritizing us– You shouldn’t feel nervous about your relationship because this will give you time to miss each other– things will go back to normal once the world cup is over.” Lindsey patted my shoulder in sympathy, I smirked as my nervousness started to subside. 

A month later, as I stepped up to the penalty spot, the weight of the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders. We finished the match against Sweden 0-0 and after extra time, we had to go into a penalty shootout. The stadium roared around me, a cacophony of cheers and chants from both sides echoing in my small ears. Nerves danced in my stomach, threatening to consume me with doubt and mistakes.

With a deep breath, My eyes focused on Zećira Mušović standing between me and the goal. She did great throughout the game and has the reflexes to stop my shot. Determination burned in my eyes, she saw it too. 

As I approached the ball with speed, the tension in the air was palpable but I couldn’t care. Every step felt like an eternity as my foot sent the ball soaring towards the goal. Mušović dove in desperation, but my ball went directly to the middle as she dove left. The ball crashed into the back of the net, eliciting a deafening roar from the crowd and from my teammates. 

My dimples on my cheeks showed as I am happy to make the penalty. Being substituted on the pitch after halftime, I tried my best to score but my shot on goal was overturned by VAR. Apparently, my body was offside. 

Now, my arms wrapped the bodies of Sophia Smith and Megan Raphinoe as I looked ahead at Kelley O’hara. My heart raced as I stared at her white colored cleats. She needed to score this, or else Sweden had the opportunity to win the knockout. 

She Missed. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at the Swedish players with rising confidence and opportunity. Hurtig took the shot and Alyssa blocked it over the line. This caused a debate among the crowd. Deep down, I knew Sweden made it. They’ve won. However, VAR was the only hope which would have proved me wrong. 

Unfortunately, I was right. Sweden emerged victorious in the penalty shootout, their celebration serving as a bitter reminder of the heartbreak that awaited my teammates and I. 

No, No, NO! I thought to myself as I felt the moisture in my eyes start to take place. Immediately, my mind did a flashback to the 2019 World Cup Final. Being 19 years old and happy as my small, yet muscular, arms held the heavy World Cup trophy. 

With a heavy heart, I broke away from my teammates and looked among the Americans in the stands. My shaky hands clapped to the fans in the stands, my facade of strength crumbling with each step she took. Cameras could capture my weak struggle to stay strong as the Swedish crowd rightfully celebrated. 

Turning around, walking back towards the Americans who were on the team, my knees collapsed on the grassy pitch, tears streamed down my tired face. This was the worst that the United States had completed in a World Cup. What went wrong? 

I wanted to stand up so badly, but I didn’t. Shame and Defeat took over my body which laid in the grass. What is my family in the crowd thinking? What are the USWNT fans thinking? What are my fans thinking?... my tears cried out more when I wondered what Aitana was thinking. 

After ten minutes of darkness in my eyes, covered by my hands. A comforting presence enveloped my body. I recognized the floral smell mixed with a tint of sweat. I looked up from my hands and saw Fridolina, my teammate from Barcelona and now my opponent who won the Round of 16. 

“You did so good, Don’t beat yourself up over this!” Fridolina spoke to me first as her thumbs wiped over my teary eyes. I felt comfort but a small amount of envy was inside of me, I wanted to win so badly. 

“Congratulations Frido.” The Swedish girl took her hands and helped me stand up as she gave me a tight hug. Aitana, Frido, and I are a trio back in Barcelona. In fact, she helped Aitana and I confess our feelings to each other. 

“Thank you! Just know that I am proud of you, she is proud of you too. Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.” The 29 year old said as my eyes stained her yellow covered shoulders. I knew she meant Aitana when she said “she”. However, I didn’t know where the Spanish woman was at the moment and what she was thinking. 

“Just go be-beat Japan. Okay?” I said through a crack in my voice. I found solace in the embrace of my friend. I might’ve lost but I am not a bitter person, now I want to see my club teammates have a good World Cup like I’ve once experienced.

As we exchanged jerseys, the voice in my head kept reassuring myself that I'll come back stronger than ever in 2027. 

Just a week later, most of my American teammates left Australia and went back home. However, my teammate Kristie and I decided to stay back. Kristies had a girlfriend who played on a different international team like I did, so we wanted to support them as they’re advancing to the semi-finals. 

Witnessing my Barcelona teammates play each other in the Spain vs Sweden match was intense. Standing beside Aitana’s parents, I wore a basic dark green t-shirt with 501 mid-thigh levi shorts. This is the first time I've met them as her girlfriend and they’re sweet people. We celebrated Spain’s win against Sweden and my heart would have exploded in happiness. My girlfriend will experience a World Cup final! 

On August 20th, after an intense match and a lovely goal from Olga Carmona, Spain won the World Cup! The feeling was bittersweet for me. I am happy for my girlfriend but subconsciously, I knew I wanted it to be me with the United States. However, I brushed that feeling aside since I needed to be happy for my lover. 

“Aitana ¡Estoy tan feliz por ti!” We both ran towards each other and hugged. I feel her lightly kiss the side of my head as I inhale her scent. Being able to feel her embrace after a month apart filled the small void in my heart.

“¡Esto es tan irreal, ahora sé cómo te sentiste hace tantos años!”  (This is so unreal, now I know how you felt all those years ago!) Aitana smiled. The smile on my face struggled to stay as a small frown, which I tried hard to conceal, plastered on my face for a quick second. I don’t think she noticed. 

“Lo siento por lo que ocurrió. En el fondo esperaba que fuéramos nosotros dos quienes nos enfrentaríamos en la final.” (I'm sorry for what happened. Deep down I hoped that it would be the two of us who would face each other in the final.) Aitana said as she understood my defeat in the Round of 16. 

“Aquí también. Sólo debes saber que todavía estoy muy feliz por ti, a pesar de mi derrota.” (Here too. Just know that I am still very happy for you, despite my defeat.) I said as I admired the goal medal that sat perfectly on Aitana's chest. She gave me a sympathetic smile before hugging me again. 

“¡Te amo!” Aitana whispered into my ear. 

“Te quiero más” I smiled back as I relaxed into her arms. 

<3

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Alt Assistant AU Pt 6 NSFW

Under the cut!

The morning after their first tryst, anxiety churns in Kara's gut. Looking at Lena's sleeping form beside her, spread and open and relaxed as though she hasnt a care in the world, she wonders if this will be a one time thing. A singular supernova of two bodies colliding before spiralling off into the expanse, never to meet again.

She needn't have worried.

Lena wakes with a purr and a smile, leaning in for a sour kiss before throwing her leg over Kara's waist and levering herself upright. Being knelt over gives Kara a full unobstructed view of Lena's full, rounded breasts, pierced nipples and all. Her mouth goes dry.

"Last night was..." she rasps, not quite sure what word could possibly encompass the experience. All she knows is that she wants more. More and more and more, until Lena consumes her entirely.

A dark eyebrow lifts. "Was....?" Lena prompts teasingly.

"Unbelievable," Kara offers. "Euphoric. Rapturous--"

Lena curls down and kisses her again.

"Intoxicating," Kara sighs when she can breathe again.

Gaze turning soft, Lena regards her from above.

"Last night, you asked me how many times I've thought of this." Green eyes watch her closely. "How often have YOU thought about this?"

"Fucking?" Kara says brashly. "Not as often as being with you. Close to you. I..."

She trails off, suddenly uncertain. Being Lena's assistant, effectively invisible in so mundane a role, has given her confidence. Without having to either hide herself or set an example or embody an ideal, Kara knows she's thrived in a way she never had in the previous reality. But now... being so near to Lena pulls the rug out from under her, leaving her feeling unsteady.

"What?" Lena asks gently. Her head tilts slightly, and Kara thinks she sees genuine care in her features.

"I don't want this to be one time thing."

Lena's lips curl in a barely constrained smile, delight appeared bright and sudden. "Well, then..." she says, her voice all but rumbling. "I suppose it's a good thing I have no intention of letting you go any time soon."

----

Life after that remains relatively the same. In the office anyway. Kara is just as attentive as she's always been, seeing to Lena's every need and many of her wants as well. She brings all of her knowledge of Lena to bear, and she knows Lena is a little surprised at how well she can "guess" what Lena likes and doesn't like.

But as soon as they log off for the night, and go their separate ways at the doors of the LuthorCorp building, all bets are off. They always come back together at Lena's apartment-- Kara uses her speed to arrive before Lena, and simply hides herself a reasonable amount of time before knocking on Lena's door.

They fuck. A lot. Not a single surface in the apartment is safe from their ravenous hunger for each other. For the briefest moment of time, Kara worries that her desire may be one sided, but when she bides her time to let Lena set the pace, Lena's come for her just as ardently.

But as the days pass into weeks, their trysts ease from need to comfort. Their escapades are punctuated by take out meals on the couch in varying states of undress, and light conversation about each other's histories. Kara uses what she knows of herself in this reality and makes up the rest, and Lena reveals what Kara couldn't find online.

Her broken heart at boarding school, her brief shame in her sexuality before she embraced it out of spite for her bigoted mother. Her knowledge of her mother, slightly more than Kara remembers her knowing-- that she'd been a folk singer in a small town before moving to the city to make a better life for Lena. How her mother had died-- cancer, instead of drowning.

Some happy memories too, of her early days with the Luthors-- more than before but still too few-- before Lionel had died in her teenage years.

Her desire to do good, even under the watchful attention of her brother, who sees only profit.

When the weeks pass into over a month, Kara allows herself to believe this might last. That she might be allowed to keep Lena in her life forever. Until one day Lex Luthor himself appears in Lena's office.

She and Lena are just returning from another meeting, and Lena immediately addresses her brother with a warm welcome, preventing Kara from needing to interact with him directly. She pretends not to feel the heat of his glare as she exits to return to her own desk.

As she sits, Kara casts her hearing through the wall between them, listening closely as they exchange pleasantries that seem friendly enough. But it's not long before Lex's tone sharpens.

"I was surprise to hear you'd become a cliche, ace."

The silence that follows is frigid as Lena stiffens.

"Screwing your assistant?" Lex smirks. "Come on."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you and dad had cornered the market on diddling the secretary."

Lena's response is cool and measured, but it kicks Kara in the gut like a mule. She almost misses the darkening of Lex's tone.

"Don't be snide..."

"Oh, but your hypocrisy makes it so easy." Lena huffs. "Jesus Lex. I never gave you grief about Eve, or even Mercy. What gives you the right--"

"I own this company!" Lex barks. "Everything you do is a reflection of me and our name. It's time you remember that."

"As if you'd let me forget--"

"I let you have your little pet projects, let you use company funds for your silly outreach ideas, and you do this?!" Lex takes a breath, letting it out in a huff of feigned sympathy.

"We have rules against this sort of thing, ace, and they're in place for a reason. If you choose to continue, and the board catches wind of it, I won't be able to protect you."

This time, Lena doesn't respond. A quick glance with her x-ray vision shows Kara the inevitable slump of Lena's shoulders.

Lex's senses his victory. "Think about it," he says. "I know you'll do the right thing."

When Lena still doesn't say anything, Lex takes his leave. The smirk he shoots Kara on his way says everything. She's lost.

Later that night, Kara enters Lena's office on quiet feet to go over the next day's schedule. When she finishes, Kara pauses.

"Do you need anything else before I leave?"

A subtle prompt for Lena to leave too, despite the paperwork spread on the desk promising that Lena has no intention of calling it quits.

"I have some proposals to review," Lena says quietly without looking up. "I won't be home until quite late."

"I can stay--"

"No," comes the clipped response. "I have what I need."

Kara grits her teeth, trying not to let her hurt show. She leaves with a nod, forcing herself not to look back until the door shuts behind her. Only then does she turn to peer through the wall, and witness the sad features Lena covers with both hands, elbows resting on the desk.

Scowling, Kara turns on her heel and heads home.

[maneaterss]

Can you do a Neymar fic where he calls her clingy behind her back and she overhears and changes

i'm done doing the "pairing, summary, cw" thing cause it's kinda obvious by the req! also i changed this into more of an argument LOL.

angst!! insecurity. mentions of past relationships were reader was cheated on.

-

you and neymar had always been open about what you want out of your relationship, how you feel about certain things- etcetera.

you gave him your all- always making sure his jerseys were ready for whatever game he had next, making sure he had food to eat after practice, and letting your hearts beat together at night- him holding you close.

during practice season him, messi, and kylian would all carpool and switch off, this time in particular messi and kylian decided it best that they would come over after practice and play some fifa on the couch.

when neymar came in- you welcomed his friends and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

you were working on something on your laptop so you went straight back to the room and continued working on it.

after about half an hour you needed to use the bathroom which was directly across the hall from the living room, you sat your laptop on the bed and quietly made your way to the bathroom so as to not disrupt the guys.

once you'd done your business, you washed your hands and dried them.

"antonella wasn't able to be home last night so i woke up so late." you heard lionel's voice echo through the living room.

"i couldn't imagine having to go home to someone every single night and not be able to drop onto the bed and just fall asleep- i feel bad for you guys."

at this. neymar laughed loudly, "honestly, it becomes a lot- having to talk to them 24-7- especially y/n she's a little-"

"clingy?" lionel questioned. curious to where this was going.

you could've sworn your heart dropped- time seemed to slow down as you waited for his answer.

"extremely. she's just-" he also laughed and sighed at the same time. "not simple."

your heart dropped even further, your eyes brimming with tears. were you honestly that clingy? were you mistaking being caring with being a burden? were you really that bad? so bad that he had to talk about you like this while you were still in the house.

your ears were ringing, how many times had he spoken down on you like this without you knowing? so many questions and regrets.

your hand was still on the doorknob, if you left now he would know that you'd overheard and it would result in an awkward and insincere apology from him. but you couldn't just hideout in the bathroom.

you'd decided to leave the bathroom, trying to slip by as you did before- it went unnoticed by everyone in the room that you rushed past with your head down.

neymar was laughing for practically the rest of his friends visit before they'd decided to call it a night and head home.

you on the other hand were sat on the bed- laptop closed. your thoughts focused on only one thing.

the pressure in your throat builds as tears still stung at your eyes. every single betrayal came back crawling onto your shaken skin- every disloyal relationship, every time you'd been cheated on, thought of as lesser than, everytime you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, the skin that neymar had worshipped.

"she's just not simple."

you squeezed your eyes shut, you'd gotten too comfortable. you were torn back to those times where you were struck with someone elses dishonesty- poisoned by their greed. where those that you loved were too blind to see that your kindness was their stability. undermined, unworthy, and manipulated.

maybe you'd blown it out of proportion, he laughed when he said it- he must've not meant it. wether he was saying it to make his friends laugh or not- it had no other outcome than tears running down your cheeks, desperately trying to pull yourself together.

you looked at yourself in the mirror- you felt so stupid, so small, so insignificant like the life had been torn from you. didn't this go to show that you'd been to clingy? that you cared too much?

you heard his friends leave. you really had to get your shit together now.

you wiped your tears and walked to your armoire, folding the stray t-shirts that were spread over the inside.

in walked a straight faced neymar, who came up behind you to press a kiss to your cheek.

he grabbed a few of the shirts in the folding pile, trying to lessen the task for you- but in all honesty, what does he care? "i've got it, " you spoke without looking up at him.

he persisted, continuing to fold the shirts.

you hastily grabbed the shirts from his grasp, "i said i've got it."

he was caught off guard with the sudden attitude, he genuinely couldn't think of what he'd done to make you unhappy. "what's wrong meu amor?"

"nothing, just let me fold the clothes." you looked him in his eyes for the first time tonight and wondered how someone who looked at you so softly, like you were delicate pieces of china- could say belittling things about you knowing what you had gone through.

you wanted to blame him, you wanted to not internalize it and say it's his fault and not yours for the way that you let his words change your outlook on things, to change you.

"no tell me what's wrong." he began walking towards you, "i know somethings wrong."

you became angry, angry because you so badly wanted to breakdown into tears- curl into a ball and disappear, but his stupid, selfish, greedy words made you decide against it. "god neymar, drop it."

you prayed he would let you go to bed angry, and you'd wake up and act like nothing happened, but he couldn't think like that. "no." he furrowed his eyebrows, "what's gotten into you? is it because i didn't spend enough time with you? if it is then i'm s-"

you audibly laughed in his face, it was ironic. "no it's the opposite neymar, maybe i spend too much time with you."

he remained confused for a mere few seconds, before his mouth shut, he didn't know what to say. "y/n."

"i mean i guess i already got a head start to the clingy thing, i didn't make you dinner tonight was that better for you? did that make things easier?" you mockingly spoke. sure it was evil to shove this in his face but you were tired of being calm about this when you were so far from it.

"that's not what i meant. i didn't mean it like that." he stood on the other side of the bed from you, tears brimmed his eyes now. how could he have the capacity within himself to hurt the person who has saved him from darkness? why did he say things like that so spitefully when you were someone who had filled his lungs with air and left the kiss of the sun on his skin.

but you'd wonder what life would be like if you were an easy girl. if all those people from the past wouldn't have done those things to you, if neymar wouldn't feel sideways about you. this was rubbing away at a part of you, the giving part of you- you were running out of these kind gestures bit by bit, but what did it matter? he didnt care for them anyways right?

you didnt even realize you were crying nor did you realize he'd came up behind you and wiped your tears.

"no i'm sorry baby." he buried his head into your neck. "i'm so sorry."

your tears fell regardless. your heart rate still at an all time low. you didn't believe that he was truly sorry, he gave unsolicited backlash to your raw wounds and spoke so openly about it.

you freed yourself from his grasp, and began to pace around the room, "no." you wiped the tears with your hand that ran down your face. he refused to let you make these decisions blind with anger. he corned you, begging you to say something, to yell at him, to tell him that he's stupid. god anything. "i can't believe you embarrassed me like that."

"i know y/n. i know, i know, im sorry." he ran a hand through his hair.

"i have given you every part of me since i have loved you and for you to-" you spoke through sobs- sobs that tore the air from you, "god what were you thinking."

his heart broke with that last line, he knew what it meant. it meant something had changed for you, that something would never be the same and the scariest part was that he didn't know what it was.

"i wasnt thinking i don't know what i was saying, please forgive me baby please." he was breaking down now too.

"who's simple?" you asked, expressionless besides the tears that stained your cheeks.

"what?"

"was bruna simple?"

three words and his expression fell. now equally as hurt as you that you had to bring that up, you were both hurting so it resulted in hurting each other. his hand that was once reaching for your cheek now fell this his side as he ran a hand over his mouth. he was more speechless now than before.

you took heavy note of him taking more offense to the mention of his ex than his comments towards you. you knew you were in the wrong to bring it up, but didn't he deserve it?

"im going to stay with my sister tonight." you grabbed your car keys and left- nevermjnd the fact that you didn't have a spare change of clothes.

he stood, watching you leave- not preferring it but not objecting, just letting it happen.

[reidsdimples]

Strictly Professional | Part 4

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

You go see Spencer in his hotel room after a case is wrapped up.

Part 1, 2, 3

“You’re staring,” JJ says, startling you.

“Wha-“ you say absentmindedly.

She nods towards Spence who is leaning against one of the black SUV’s talking to Rossi.

His legs are crossed at the ankles, his sleeves rolled up, and his hands are shoved into his pockets. The streetlights above his cast his features in stark shadows. It was… distracting to say the least.

“It’s the pants right? They’re more form fitting,” JJ laughs. You turn to her with your mouth agape.

“I wasn’t…”

“Come on, you’d have to be blind not to see how good he looks,” she nudges you.

“Aren’t you married?” You ask playfully,

“Married, not blind,” she winks.

You smile and roll your eyes.

“Yeah it’s definitely the pants,” you surrender.

“So make a move,” she says and hands you a piece of gum.

You’re all waiting around for Hotch and Prentiss to call you into the house a block down which they are staking out.

“No way, we’re coworkers,” you make an effort to sound appalled and hope she doesn’t pick up on the insincerity.

“Oh please, it wouldn’t be the first time romance struck the BAU,” she says. You give her a blank and confused stare. “Kevin and Penelope?”

“Oh right, but they work in different units,” you point out. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not interested in him like that,” you decide to shut the conversation down.

“What are we talking about?” Morgan hops in.

“Nothing,” you and JJ say in unison.

“Damn, okay,” he laughs and holds up his hands feigning innocence.

“He’s got the girl, we’re going in,” Hotch comes over the ear pieces. You all jump into one of the SUVs.

Morgan drives and Rossi takes the front seat.

You, JJ, and Spencer cram into the back in a hurry. You slam into Spence when you stumble over the middle console, your face colliding with his chest. JJ is shoving herself into the space next to you.

“Sorry,” you push yourself off of him and sit up. He lets out a soft laugh.

Your bulky vests make the whole thing awkward as the car speeds towards the unsubs house.

You’re in the middle, pressed into Spence who is looking everywhere but towards you. You inhale his familiar scent and your body comes to attention. It recognizes him, craves him. You adjust to pull your arm out from between the two of you and he lifts his arm to help. He props it on the head rest behind you but doesn’t touch you. He’s close enough that the heat and electricity starts buzzing between you. He clears his throat and you swear he’s adjusting himself by shifting his legs. You nearly smirk because you have the same effect on him.

The car stops abruptly and you’re all piling out of it. You get back on your A-game and pull your gun from the holster.

Somewhere in the house you hear Rossi reasoning with the man who comes into view.

The 10 year old little girl is trembling under his knife, her face streaked with tears.

“Hey Kelly,” Spencer begins quietly. You glance it him, unsure what he’s doing. The unsub seems put off too.

“Can you tell me how you feel, tell him how what he’s doing is hurting you,” he says gently. His gun is holstered.

The unsub had taken the little girl after his own daughter was murdered. He was trying to create a new life with a new child to fill a void. He didn’t profile as someone who would hurt the child.

“I don’t like it, it’s scary,” the girl cries.

“It’s going to be okay Kelly, we’re going to get you out of here,” Spencer says softly. She nods and sniffles.

“Lionel you hear that? You don’t want to hurt her the way they hurt Maya do you?” Rossi reasons.

“I want my daddy,” she cries again. Her small frame rattling with fear.

Lionel is looking frantically around the room, trying to find a way out.

“There’s no way out, you need to let her go. We can help you,” you say, keeping your gun centered on him.

“No one can help me!” He bellows angrily, causing Kelly to whine.

“Maya wouldn’t want this. You know you can’t replace her,” Spencer says.

That seems to break something in the man who drops his arm in defeat.

The girl sprints towards your team, immediately latching onto Spencer who allows her to grab his arm. She looks back at you with big teary eyes.

“You’re safe now,” you whisper to her.

The man is on his knees and the gun is kicked aside while Prentiss makes the arrest.

You and JJ walk with Spencer and the little girl outside where CPS will work out getting her home.

Cases didn’t always have happy endings but this was as close as it got. The mad had killed two other girls who didn’t fit his delusion but your team was able to save Kelly and stop him. It felt good.

“Good job in there,” you tell Spencer and offer him a fist bump.

“Thanks,” he reluctantly returns the odd gesture with a shy grin.

-

The team returns to the hotel and you’re so tired you can hardly think straight. The weight of the last week and a half finally starting to dissolve with the cases conclusion.

Once again you’ve had radio silence from Spence outside of professional interaction. Two weeks had passed since Penelope caught you red handed and you expected never to hear from him again.

You sigh and pour yourself a glass of red wine as you sink into the bathtub. You convince yourself it’s fine that he hadn’t made a move, you were fine with not having him. It’s fine.

But then time passes and you’re half a bottle of wine in, your mind wondering to the way those damn pants hugged his hips. The way it accentuated his ass and his long legs. You’re biting your lip when your hand drifts down into the water and over your clit.

Images of him with his vest on, his gun raised, his mouth moving as he talked had you squirming.

Then you remembered how good he always felt inside of you. How you’ve never cum so hard as when he fucked you. Ugh.

You become frustrated and stop rubbing yourself.

Fuck it.

You throw back another half glass of wine and pull on your pajamas. His room was three doors away. You would just march over there and antagonize him. Screw waiting for him to make a move. You were sick and tired of waiting for him to need you. It was your turn.

You knock lightly on his door so as not to alert the rest of the team in the other rooms. It takes a moment but he opens it after looking through the peephole.

“Hey,” he rubs his eyes.

He had been asleep, his hair tousled. He was wearing nothing but pajama pants and your eyes couldn’t help but trail to his stomach.

You place your hand on his chest and push him backwards as you step inside. Your eyes pinned on his. He immediately acquiesces to your command, especially when you push him against the wall and kiss him hard.

It’s clumsy, unpracticed. But you don’t care, you need him. His soft mouth melts and moves against yours until his hands trail up the small of your back.

“We really shouldn’t keep doing this,” he whispers but kisses you again.

“It’s so bad,” you agree.

It was bad, your addiction to one another.

“Mhmm,” he moans drunkenly as though intoxicated by you.

He lifts you up so your legs wrap around his waist, you slam your hand against the wall as you kiss him harder. Your tongues sliding together in teasingly slow motions. God he tasted so fucking good, you could devour him for an eternity.

You roll your hips against him where his erection is pressing into you and a sinful groan escapes him.

“You looked so fucking good today,” he praises as he carries you towards the bed. You’re licking and sucking at his neck, needing to taste him.

“You did too” you purr when he lays you flat on your back.

“How much did you drink?” He asks thoughtfully as he stands above you, taking you in.

“Just a couple of glasses of wine,” you wave your hand dismissively. You move your feet up his chest until they’re resting on his shoulders.

He abruptly grabs your ankles and drops your legs from him before walking out of view. You sit up, confused.

The he takes a seat in the chair behind the desk on the other side of the room. The desk has been covered in books and paperwork in the 10 days he’s occupied the room. It was so him that you grin.

“You came here because you wanted me,” he muses as he lifts his hips to pull down his pants. “Show me how bad you want me, pretty girl.”

He lounges back in the chair, his cock just out and ready for you. You bite your lip nervously but move over to him. He rolls the chair backward from the desk to ensure there’s plenty of room. He looks glorious bathed in the moonlight from the window.

You step out of your pajama shorts in straddle him, taking his face in your hands.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he pushes.

“I think I want you like this all of the time,” you whisper as you grind your wetness against his length.

He grips your hips as you begin to align yourself with the tip of his cock. You lower yourself down and he tries to slow you by digging his nails into your skin. He sucks air through his teeth and throws his head back as you take him completely.

“So tight,” he shudders. Then you rock your hips forward, your clit against him as his cock throbs inside of you.

You continue to roll your hips, keeping him as deep as possible as you find the exact rhythm you need.

You begin to move up and down his length and he groans when your grip his hair.

“Use me, make yourself cum,” he whimpers.

It’s a softer, needier side of him that you hadn’t seen before but you love it. So you do just that. You begin riding him and grinding down on him. Not caring necessarily about what feels good to him but about what feels good to you.

One of your hands trails down the column of his neck and you gently squeeze. His hands find your nipples and he squeezes them hard as he fights to keep quiet.

He’s a mess of groans and whimpers. You throw yourself forward and bite down on his shoulder as you fall into a desperate grind against him as you chase your orgasm.

You moan against his skin as you climax, your walls tightening around his cock in a way that has him squirming beneath you, one hand pulling at your hair while the other digs into your thigh.

“Fuck Spence,” you whisper and roll your head back.

You can feel your cum all over him and it feels so good as you continue to rock your hips back and forth.

“Hold on,” he says, his voice husky.

You do, you prop your hands on the chair behind him as he lifts your hips so you’re halfway up his length.

Then he starts thrusting up into you fast and hard until you’re biting your tongue to stifle your moans.

You have a hard time holding yourself up as he thrusts mercilessly into you, the sound of wet flesh slapping together filling the room. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold on as he pulls you closer. He doesn’t let up, his stamina unmatched as he pounds into you harder.

Your eyes roll back as you attempt to absorb the pleasure beating through you. He buries his head between your tits, his jagged breathing fanning against your skin. The two of you are absolutely lost in each other, unable to get enough. You’re moaning softly, trying to stay quiet when his nails dig into your back.

The sensation is enough to send you over the edge again.

“Baby, fuck baby,” he bites out as you orgasm over him again. He’d never called you that, it’s heady, it makes you smile.

His rhythm slows as you pull him to his climax until he’s cumming inside of you. You roll your hips down on him as he pumps his cum into you, knowing how good it must feel to be as deep as possible while he finished.

“Fuuuck,” he shudders.

His eyes are wide and his mouth is open as he watches you roll your hips the last few times, greedily taking all his cum.

Your eyes linger on each other as the moment softens. You lean in and kiss him, delighted when he kisses you back. It’s more passionate, less needy.

You pull away, not wanting to get lost in the labeling or feeling behind anything. You get off of him and hurry to the restroom where you start the shower. The mixture of both of your releases is running down your thighs and you need to focus on cleaning up rather than whatever you’re feeling.

Something like sadness washes over you, sadness that this can’t be more, that it isn’t more because he doesn’t want it to be.

You’re washing your hair when Spencer steps into the shower.

“Oh,” you startle.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod, taking in his beautiful body as you pull him under the water.

You turn away from him and wash your face. That’s when he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you flush against him. You stare down at his forearms overlapping across your stomach. He fits against you so perfectly as you lean back into him. He sways gently but doesn’t speak. The intimacy of just holding you seems to be what he needs, it’s not a side of him you’ve seen very much.

“You want me like this always too?” He whispers.

It takes you off guard, the vulnerability in his voice. It’s as though he’s searching for some clue that he means more to you than you let on.

You turn in his arms and reach up to smooth back his wet curls.

“What if I do?” Your voice is hoarse.

“I don’t know how this can be more,” he shakes his head.

You got it, you understood how much it would complicate things. When emotions and favoritism came into play amongst coworkers it could be distracting.

“What do you want Spence?” You decide to be brave and ask him.

Your bodies are pressed together, the warm water trailing between you.

“I want…” he looks at you with what can only be described as puppy dog eyes. Some mixture of fear and sadness painting his beautiful features.

“Reid,” comes Hotch’s voice with a swift knock on the door.

He jumps back, his eyes wide.

“Shit,” you whisper.

Spencer rushes out of the shower as panic consumes you. Why would Hotch need to talk to Spencer at one in the morning!?

[spidybaby]

Stressed

Summary: When he's stressed and worried about work, that's the only thing on his mind.

Warnings: angst because I'm a sucker for it 😤

A/N: So I'm inspired, and you already know I love angst, I breathe angst, I eat angst. (Okay, I'm done exaggerating), but lemme know how you are? Are you drinking water? Hope you're fine 💐❤️

Since Kylian sent that letter to the higher-ups of PSG about not wanting to stay until 2025, everything is drama.

The french tabloids, for some reason, want him to look bad, want him to look like this ungrateful man.

He's experiencing too much pressure, Sergio leaving, Lionel leaving, possibly Verrati leaving. It was a mess. The whole teams is.

Especially now that this dumb reporter, her name is Sam, she's all over him about the whole side of him about the leaving, the selling, the quitting of Galtier. He's done with her, with the other reporters, with the ultras hating him for even breathing.

"Don't worry, Kyky, everything's going to be fine." Sergio pat his back, Kylian was one of the first ones to know about his retirement of the club. "Don't let that chick got to you."

"I just want her away from me." He drinks too fast for what he's used to. "Can't she cover something else?"

"Look, hermano." Ney says, he had to deal with the same reporter a few months before. "Just tell her something completely different from what she's asking, and she'll leave."

He knows she just wants to write something before anyone else, something that comes from his own, not for speculation. "Lie to her."

He scuff, it's not that easy to be away from her when she's also part of the PSG press people. She has access to everywhere. That makes him uncomfortable.

"Mira Kylian." Leo says. He's not new to this whole press drama. "Just don't mind her, ignore her, saying you have to be somewhere." He smiles, nodding to his advice.

Leo and Sergio are the ones he trusts with this media hate. They're goats, and they come from a long road. He can't deny that even Neymar is an expert. But he's been there for his own stupid mind, even tho he denied it.

He followed the advice Leo gave him, always ignoring her, saying the usual bonjour or a revoir. Nothing else.

That made her mad. She even asked Galtier for his number, not caring about writing him. That took him to the limit. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Don't stress, mon amour." You say kissing his cheek. You're massaging him, wanting to help him relax. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. It's only you and me."

You tried everything for him to relax, you didn't know the whole story. He never told you about this reporter. So you only think it's because of the whole letter drama.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"Bonjour, Kylian." Sam says, looking at him. She's blocking the door of the lockers. "Can we talk." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm busy." He tries to pass her, but she's not moving, and the last thing he wants is touching her or making any type of contact. "Please move."

"Just five minutes." She says, begging him. "And I'll leave you alone forever."

"I prefer you to leave me alone now." His voice is this deep tone. He's done with her games. "Get out of the way." He ask nicely.

"Four minutes." She begged again.

"Sam, out of the way."

"Three."

He breathes deeply, and he's losing his temper. "I'll say it only one more time, and believe me, that I hate repeating myself." He grabs her arm, not hard but the right amount of pressure to move her gently. "I'm busy." He's mad. His whole day is ruined, thanks to her.

He enters his car, asking the driver to take him home. He's supposed to go to his mother's house, but he's too mad for that.

He arrived home funding. His train bag is now on the floor, you're home early, and you notice the noise, thinking maybe he fell.

"Are you okay?" You ask from your bedroom. Maybe he's hurt. "Ky? Amour?" You talk louder this time.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps on the stairs. A very agitated Kylian enters the room. "Hi, handsome." You say, opening your arms to him.

"Remember how you said you can take the stress out of me?" He sais breathless, you nod smiling. "Do it."

You throw the covers away from you. Ready to attack your boyfriend with kisses and attention. Your lips feel heavy on his own. He's tense. You can feel him.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere, hes uncomfortable by the fact that he has Sam on the back of his head, tunning after him, basically harrassi him.

There's no other reason for him to focus on anything other than you. The way your lips feel on his neck, the way your hands are touching the right places, the way you're making him feel good.

His hips are moving to a very fast pace. He's not one to take his frustration on you, but the way you're moaning his name and how your nails are scratching his back is making him lose control.

He doesn't know how, but it happens. He can't take her name out of his mind, now even when you're taking him so well.

When he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow, and he attacks the exposed side of your neck. He's leaving red marks, marking you as his. The groan that's escaping his lips are pornographyc.

You could feel nothing but him, the weight of his body over yours, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips and on his forehead, making the hair close to your neck to stick to it.

What's making the entire situation so much worse is the fact that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop thinking about her. Not in a sexual way, but angrily wanting her to go away, to leave his mind alone.

His hand is griping your waist so hard. He knows he'll leave a mark. Moans coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he goes faster, knowing by the sounds you're making that you're close.

"Sam-" that's when he stops. His whole body stop. He doesn't know why he's saying her name. His eyes are open in a panic.

"Get off," you say out of breath. Your heart is beating as fast as if it's going off your body. "Get off of me."

You push his shoulders for him to get off of you. He pulled out and tried to explain. "Y/n, please, I didn't mean to do that."

Your mind is lost, one moment you're under him, holding him closer, kissing him and enjoying him.

And now you're pushing him away, not wanting him to touch you. You grab the covers of the bed. You wrap it around your body before running to the bathroom.

"Amour, please." He tries to grab your arms. "Amour." He almost catch you, but he's not fast enough.

The next thing he knows is you slamming the door in his face. He can hear the way you're breathing and how you sob. The sound is making his heart hurt.

"I promise I wasn't-" he can't even think of an excuse. He's fucked up, he's hearing the way you're crying and can't think of how to solve it. "Listen, she's a reporter that has been harassing me. She's always on me, and I".

You open the door, interrupting his explanation. You're standing there, tears running down your face, blanket around your body, eyes sad.

"Mon amour." He doesn't know if he can touch you. He doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable than what you already are. "I promise it's not what you think."

You pass him, walking to the room to get your clothes, dressing yourself again, hurried to get away from him.

"Please don't go." He says, hand grabbing your arm. "Please, let me explain." He feels like crying, not wanting to let go.

"Not now." You get off his hold. "I can't do this. Please get away from me." You push him lightly.

"Don't go, I'll go, but you don't have to go." He dresses himself, not wanting you to leave. "I'm fucking sorry." Your back is facing him. You can't look at him in the eyes.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The past week, you were running away from Kylian, leaving extra early for work and returning while he was still training.

For him, it was hard not being able to speak with you. But you needed time, and he's willing to let you have it. Even if that hurt him in the process.

For you, it's been weird. You can't wrap your mind around the fact of what's going on. For you, it hurts that he didn't trust you enough to talk to you about what's happening, and the other part of you is your ego being hurt by him naming another girls name.

You were sure with a talk and being honest, you both can make up. You trusted him when he says he has never been with her, but you also needed to know the whole story.

The sound of keys jiggling is the way you know he's home. When he walks he sees you sitting on the couch.

He's tired, everyone is hating on him for the stupid tabloids, and he can't even find comfort in your arms because he hurt you without intended to.

"Can we talk?" He swears the sound of your voice is magical. He missed it. He missed you. He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Who's Sam?"

He didn't hesitate to detail the whole thing. The things his playmates advised him. "Kylian, why didn't you report her to the management?" You're mad, not with him but with her for being such a bitch and harass him about a stupid football news.

"Because I thought she was going to leave me alone." He yells, frustrated. "I can't do this anymore."

You hug him, caressing his back and him cry his frustration. His not crying about her. He's crying about the news, about the hate, about the media not leaving him alone.

"I'm here, don't cry." You kiss the top of his head. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you before."

"It's not you, I'm the one who made the mistake of letting her abuse her power." He let you dry his tears. "I'm so done."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that." You kiss his cheeks. "You're fine now, I'm not letting her or anyone hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable." You hugged him. Promising you'll never let him feel that way again.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: hii idk if the requests are still open but i have an idea for a story... you are ofc free to ignore it 💞 so basically, yn is messi's only daughter and shes very known in the football world bc shes the barca's goat's daughter yk and jude who is rm's star boy rn has been in love with her for a long time... so its kinda romeo and juliet type of story but like its cute!! thank you sm and i hope you have an amazing day/night 💗 (anonymous)

Word Count: 601 words

(author's note: true to my word, here's a request i started a while ago and finished today !!)

Y/N grew up as a Barcelona fan. Her life revolved around the club as she spent many days at the Barça grounds with her father. To her, Lionel Messi was just a regular man. He was simply her father. He was a well-loved, well-known footballer to the rest of the world.

The media was obsessed with Y/N. No one grew up as a footballer’s daughter and stayed out of the spotlight. Everywhere she went, it was cameras, paparazzi, and reporters.

Another person who caught the media’s attention was Jude Bellingham. Real Madrid’s star signing was another favourite of the media’s. This led to the pair connecting pretty well behind the scenes. They understood each other's struggles and both fell head over heels immediately.

After getting to know each other without the knowledge of a single other soul, Jude and Y/N had begun dating. It had been many months and the pair were completely infatuated with one another.

The El Clasico matches were some of Y/N’s favourites. The atmosphere in the stadiums and the rivalry in the air made the game infinitely more enjoyable. However, hiding the love she had for her boyfriend was the difficult part.

She wanted to support her father, but in the back of her mind, she was rooting for Jude. Y/N knew how many years the rivalry had been going on for, and being torn between the two teams was a very unpleasant feeling.

Lined up in uniformed rows, the two teams faced the roaring crowds with winning being their only aim. The pre-match formalities were soon over, and the game began.

It seemed like today of all days was when Jude decided to play the best he possibly could. By half time he already had 2 goals under his belt and it was clear her was hungry for more.

What wasn’t clear to the fans was the wink Jude sent Y/N’s way after his first goal. Or the beaming smile he threw in her direction after the second.

Jude knew in his heart that he wanted the world to know about the love had for Y/N. While his teammates congratulated him during the break, he formed a plan in his head.

The game was back in full swing, and the opposition seemed to come back into the game with a new sense of ferocity. When his chance came, Jude struck the ball with all his might, sending it flying into the back of the net. 

The Madrid supporters erupted into cheers and chants of Jude’s name. Feeling nothing but adrenaline, he ran to the Barcelona pitchside area, grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her out of the chair she was sitting in. He cupped her face, his hands trembling, and smashed his lips onto hers.

Y/N smiled into the kiss, knowing this was Jude’s way of making their long-secret relationship public. When they pulled away, the pair smiled at each other before Jude ran back onto the pitch. Once he was back amongst the players, Lionel made his way over to Jude and pulled him into a tight hug.

“If it was going to be anyone from the enemy team, I’m glad it’s you.” He patted him on the back and broke away to jog back into his position.

As the whistle blew to restart the game, the crowd was still erupting with cheers and screams. Y/N remained on the side of the pitch, a smile painted on her face. Her love for Jude radiated around the expanse of the whole stadium. It was clear as day.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 7: Love

ao3 fic link. series link.

“I love you.”

The first time Kara says those words, Lena freezes, not used to them. She’s heard them before, a couple of times from Jack and Sam, but before that, her memory of the words gets a little fuzzy. Once, Lillian had said it, just once, but never from Lionel or Lex.

Before that, her mother used to say it a lot, she thinks, those memories are vague and possibly dreams that she’s clung on to for too long, that have morphed into something that wasn’t real.

So when Kara says them, they fill her up and make her freeze as Kara takes the bag of Chinese food from her hands, unaware of the effect the simple words are having.

When her hands are empty, she realises why Kara really said the words, they have nothing to do with her and everything to do with the food she’s already opened and eating.

Kara gives her a curious look, prompting Lena to move and join her, the lightness draining from her chest. Just for a moment she feels sad for even believing that Kara could love her.

Why would Kara love her?

But then Kara is grinning around her food and her smile is infectious, filling her with something different. Kara may not love her, but she loves Kara.

---

“I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

Lena’s heart stills at the words, Kara already gone from the other end of the line before Lena can even think to respond.

It’s such a throwaway comment at the end of a phone call, something she’s heard Kara do before, remembers the last phone call with Alex had ended the exact same way.

Lena can’t help but hope Kara means them.

---

“I love you.”

The words are mumbled, Kara curled into Lena’s side, head tucked into Lena’s neck as they watch a movie.

There’s no mistaking Kara is talking to her. There’s no other reason Kara could be saying them unless she means them.

Doubt creeps in though, even as Kara snuggles closer. She lets Kara’s warmth soothe away her insecurities, at least for right now. She’s not used to this, not used to having someone who cares as much as Kara does.

Lena knows that’s true, knows that Kara cares about her, but love is another thing.

---

“I love you,” Kara slurs, stumbling into Lena’s side, and all Lena can do is laugh as she attempts to keep her best friend up right.

She feels warm all over, and it’s not just from the alcohol, though she’s had considerably less than Kara.

The words don’t scare her anymore, don’t make her doubt herself and Kara’s feelings, they just make her feel happy and loved.

Because Kara says them all the time now. Lena’s never said it back, has tried once or twice, but the words always get stuck in her throat.

Even now, as Kara grins at her, looking proud of herself from staying upright even though Lena is doing half the work, Lena can’t say them. She’s lost in Kara’s bright smile, in the way Kara’s eyes are crinkled and the freckles scattered across her cheeks.

Lena winds her arm securely around Kara’s waist. “Let’s get you home.”

---

“I love you.”

The words feel foreign, but so right as Lena says them. She’s never meant words more, and judging by the soft smile Kara is looking at her with, she thinks Kara knows that too.

“I love you, too,” Kara says and there is no doubt in Lena’s mind either, that Kara means them the same way she does.

“I love you,” Lena repeats, because now that it’s out there, now that she’s seen how much the words mean to Kara, she never wants to stop saying them. She may not be used to this kind of love, but she knows she’s going to have to get used to it, because Kara isn’t going anywhere.

And then Kara’s leaning forward and Lena can’t help but say them again. The fourth time she says them, the words are mumbled against Kara’s mouth and Lena couldn’t be happier.

[lwh-writing]

DC x DP Prompt: Maddie Kane

Disclaimer: I don't know a whole lot about the Kane family. This is mostly my own interpretation based on the wikis I hastily read.

Roderick and Betsy Kane had six children: Martha, Nathan, Philip, Jacob, Roderick Jr., and Madeline.

Now, Madeline was a surprise baby. Martha was already twenty-three and married to Thomas by the time her only sister was born, but that didn't stop her from showering the girl with love and affection. Thomas loved his little sister-in-law just as much, and the two practically raised her as their own. Under the undivided care and affection of Martha and Thomas, little Madeline grows up to be a willful, independent, free-thinking, intelligent girl who is very, very happy with her life at Wayne Manor.

Madeline and Martha's relationships with their brothers are... complicated, to say the least. Martha as a rule did not fully support the Kane Family's arms dealings, and so tried to distance herself (and subsequently Madeline) from them. The Kane boys didn't challenge this overmuch: they were, after all, hard military men and didn't have much interest in raising their sister who would surely just become another socialite married to one billionaire or another. (It's ironic, then, that Maddie would grow up to be the best weapons innovator the Kanes would ever produce, but such things happen.)

Madeline had just turned thirteen when Martha and Thomas had Bruce. Her little nephew was a long-awaited joy for the family, and she would sooner think of Bruce than the Kane boys when Maddie heard the word "brother".

This idea is only solidified when the Kanes, forced to acknowledge their sister after multiple high-society scandals, try to strong-arm her into attending a finishing school in England. (Maddie to this day does not regret hospitalizing Lionel Luthor. If he didn't want a broken fibula, then he shouldn't have gotten drunk at a Wayne Gala and tried to strike his son. The following press release was unfortunate, but the thank you card from Alexander was touching.) The Kanes are not successful in removing Madeline from Gotham, and after much back-and-forth, they give one final ultimatum: either go to England and return an "upstanding member of society," or Madeline would be officially cut off.

Madeline chooses the second option without much further thought, sure to tell her brothers to stuff it in as many ways as she can before she trashes the Kane Mansion for good measure.

Madeline, now almost exclusively going by "Maddie", thrives. She gets accepted into the University of Wisconsin, and so off she goes, with hugs and well-wishes from Martha, Thomas, and Bruce, who are staying in New Jersey.

Maddie is twenty-one when she gets the worst news of her life: Martha and Thomas are dead. She puts her studies on hold for a bit and flies back for the funeral, her research partner/best friend in the world/boyfriend Jack Fenton-Nightingale coming with her.

Not even a week after her sibling-parents are put in the ground, her brother Philip tries to swoop in and seize Wayne Industries for himself. Thankfully, though, Martha and Thomas's wills were very clear: Maddie is to manage the Waynes' estates until Bruce comes of age. So Maddie once more tells her brothers to fuck off, this time for good. Jack, muscled, glowering, and seven feet tall and still growing, makes good to stand silently in the background so the Kanes don't try to pull anything further.

As soon as she is able, Maddie sits Bruce down and they make arrangements. Maddie can't abandon her schooling forever, and Bruce's life has been upended enough; she doesn't want to make it worse by ripping him away from the only home he's ever known. So Maddie signs over custody to Alfred, and promises are made to visit every chance she gets.

Life moves on. Jack and Maddie get married and start Fenton Works. Bruce starts traveling abroad to "further his education of the world." Maddie and Jack have two kids. Jasmine Martha Fenton-Nightingale-Kane inherited the Kane signature fire-red hair, and Daniel James Fenton-Nightingale-Kane looks so much like Martha that it hurts. Bruce adopts a gaggle of children of his own. Bruce and Maddie like to send each other pictures to brag about their respective kids, and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes make sure to visit Gotham for at least one week every summer.

Maddie and Jack don't ask too many questions when Bruce hesitantly takes them aside and requests that they make a couple of custom-made, non-ghostly weapons for him. Of course they'd be happy to make him a few odds and ends every once in a while. Goodness knows how dangerous Gotham can be.

The Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes miss their summer trip for the first time ever when Danny comes to them and explains the whole "half-a-ghost-thing" and, well... Jack and Maddie spend the entire summer reeducating themselves about ghosts, working through years of biases, and ensuring that their son knows that they still love him of course we still love you, Danny, there isn't a thing in this world that could stop us from loving you. Dick Grayson is very understanding and assures them that Bruce wouldn't mind. (Dick is very happy to avoid telling Aunt Maddie and Uncle Jack about Bruce's death. Dick is even more happy when Tim finds proof that their dad was just lost in the timestream and not actually dead. That entire summer was very stressful for both sides of the family)

It isn't until Danny is seventeen and hesitantly makes contact with the Justice League that the Waynes learn about ghosts and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes learn about the vigilantism.

Maddie is so cross when she and the rest of the ghostly delegation walks into the Watchtower only to come face-to-face with her nephew/brother, and don't you try and deny that's you, Brucie, I have eyes. Who are you trying to fool, young man?

The rest of the Justice League has to awkwardly sit there as the Ghost King and his family have a full-on family reunion, with King Phantom taking the time to finally introduce his partners to his cousins, Princess Jasmine and Nightwing teaming up to try and talk Red Robin into dialing back on the caffeine intake, King Father Jack exchanging fudge recipes with Agent A, and Queen Mother Madeline chewing out Batman for being a reckless idiot and not telling her what he was using his gadgets for. ("If I knew that grappling hook would be actively used every night, I would have installed more safety features! We could've made it more durable! We would've had to put it through more rigorous testing before we deemed it field-ready!" "Why does that bother you now? Isn't your lab safety horrible?" "A private, indoor lab that less than ten people have access to is not the same as the streets of Gotham in every type of weather! Goddammit, Bruce, I swear--")

[nymrs]

ney with an introvert shy gf

#4. OPPOSITES ATTRACT | Neymar Jr

Neymar and you were complete opposites. He loved being around people and would never mind being the centre of attention. Singing and dancing in public - an everyday thing for him. You on the other side had to really get used to people before finally opening up and showing your fun side. Whenever Neymar and you would attend a public event, you couldn’t wait to finally go home. In the beginning of you two dating, when you were just hanging out with his mates, you would simply chill there and actually never say anything until you had to. Since you had his friends and teammates around you all the time, it got better for you of course. When it came to paparazzi and Neymars fans though, you couldn’t seem to jump over your boundaries. They knew who you were, what you looked like, but you’d always turn stiff and silent when a camera was around.

And that was the exact same case now. Neymar and you had to attend one of his clubs public events. You’d prefer to stay home and wait for him, but you couldn’t leave him hanging. It was a very important event for Ney and his mates' wives and girlfriends would be there too. "Minha beleza [my beauty]", he smiled watching you from the doorway, "Você está lista? [are you ready]" You took a last glance into the mirror and sighed, "I'm not sure. I'm still torn between this dress and the black one. What do you think?" The dress you wore was simple, but it was a bright red. Usually, you’d prefer to wear something more decent, but Neymar bought you the dress some weeks ago, saying you should save it for a special occasion. You knew he would love to see you in it, but you disliked wearing bright colours in public, you didn’t want to stand out. "I love seeing you in red, you know that", he winked and took a few steps towards you. You chuckled before he finally put his arms around your waist and placed a shirt kiss onto your lips. "Don't worry babe, you're gorgeous."

At the event, the two of you were seated with the rest of his club, having dinner and casually talking to each other. When Neymar and the boys had to give some interviews, you decided to spend the time with Antonela and Jessica. Whatever these two have been talking about, you didn’t even care to listen - Neymar was the only one you gave your full attention to. Him in a suit. You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it just made you weak, no matter how often you’ve seen him in these clothes before. While your eyes wandered up and down his figure, you didn’t even realise he was walking towards you until he finally stood right in front of you with a huge smile on his face, “Enjoying the view?" You looked up at him, then quickly took your eyes off him again as you tried to hide the fact you were blushing. "Time for the carpet", he said, holding out a hand for you. You stared at him in confusion, not quite understanding his gesture. "Are you finally coming with me?", he asked as he noticed your irritation. "On the carpet?", you scoffed, "No way Junior."

"It’s only for a few photos, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to talk. Just pose in front of the cameras a little. For me?", Neymar tried to convince you but you responded by shaking your head from left to right, repeating this movement again and again. "As you know, I'm allergic to cameras." He sighed at your sarcasm, his lips in a thin line. The pleading look he gave you was his last try to get you to go with him, but you ignored his pout and took out your phone of your clutch. With his hands in his pocket, he slowly started stepping away from you. You chew on your bottom lip, knowing damn well you disappointed your boyfriend – and you felt guilty. His mates entered the room, coming back from taking pictures; Lionel with Antonela, Marco with Jessica, Marqui with Carol. It would only be Neymar all alone again. You rolled your eyes at yourself, pushing your phone back into your clutch and started jogging after Neymar. He instantly recognised your small steps and stopped his walk. "Thank you", he whispered, giving your hand a light squeeze after intertwining it with his. You entered the hall and your heart was racing due to the amount of people watching you, all cameras directed at the two of you. Neymar led you to the middle of the carpet and naturally started posing. You tried your best to not freak out, but you flinched at every flash and held your breath whenever someone was calling your name. You weren’t used to it, it felt unnatural and awkward to you. Your eyes started blinking heavily, there was no way you could take another flashlight right into your face. Instinctively, you pulled Neymar closer to you and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He first was confused as you did so, but also couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you were. You practically felt how his lips formed a smile, which made you grin to yourself while you were still hiding from the photographers. "Our photos are for sure going to be different from all the others", he chuckled lowly. The feeling of excitement inside of you rose, but to your surprise, in a positive way. You imagined what the journalists got to see now and realised how random you actually were. "What?", Neymar asked when he heard you laughing quietly. You were unable to hold back another laugh. "You really are special, like very very special", Neymar grinned as you finally pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. The two of you simply looked at each other for a short time and then bursted out in laughter. Hearing Neymars laugh made you laugh even harder. Seeing you holding onto your belly, squinting your eyes while still having an arm wrapped around him made him laugh even more. Even the photographers couldn’t stop themselves from smiling at what they’ve just captured. "I'm so sorry", you managed to shout out as Neymar and you were about to leave the carpet.

Returning to your shared house, you continued apologising to your boyfriend. "I don’t know what got into me. I guess it was the nervousness and excitement", you explained yourself. Neymar laughed it off as he got out off his jacket. "Y/N, babe, não se preocupe [don't worry]. Thank you for going with me and making it so much fun. I’d love to see pictures they took", he reassured you, cupping your face between his hands before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips. "Do you think they already released some?", you said, scrolling through your TikTok for you page when you saw they did, indeed. "Ney, olha [look]!" Some fans were fast enough to make edits about your appearance and you were in love with those edits - you watched how you hid your face in his neck, the way he wrapped his arms around you while looking down at you in full adoration, this smile you loved so much forming in his face. The way you both didn’t stop laughing and never let go of each other while doing so. You’ve actually forgot everything around you for a short period of time, blocking out the cameras and photographers, and just enjoyed each others company. This unconditional love could literally be felt through this little screen you were watching those edits on. You smiled to yourself when you noticed Neymar hugged you from behind, watching those edits with his head placed onto your shoulder. "Eu te amo meu anjo [I love you my angel]", he mumbled, pressing a soft lips on your cheek.

[didishawn]

Little Messi (Pedri x Messi! Reader)

Warnings: reader is Messi's little sister, Lionel Messi is a professional matchmaker, lots of Spanish, mentions of Lionel Andrés Messi Cuccitini being the best football player because he is

Masterlist

Leo lately has been having thoughts about you, his little sister, with one of his teammates, Pedri, he can't help but think you two would somehow match together.

Pedri is a simple guy, nothing, wrong with it, Leo himself is too, honest, kind, great at what he does and a true Barça lover.

You are his little sister who he loves so much, the one he practically raised really, being so much younger than your other siblings and your parents being very busy with Leo's career, Leo most of the times took it into his hands to keep an eye on you, the internet is full of photos of him carrying you into matches from a very young age. You were truly Leo's first experience raising someone, there were those who even said you were actually his secret love child who he had at an extremely young age so they passed you off as a sister, lies of course, but it's not surprising there were those who believed it.

Pedri has recently joined the team, and you two, just seemed to hit it off fair quickly, something that Leo inmediatly became aware of. He knows you two are friends, but there is this part of him, telling him you two could be much more, and doesn't matter how much Antonella tells him to shut up the idea, he soon becomes your personal matchmaker without telling you.

It starts pretty simple, making you two encounter one another.

"Vení con los chicos y conmigo, así haces compañía a Pedri, que creo le cuesta un poco estarse cómodo conmigo y los pibes siendo el nuevo" he tells you one day, and of course you agree because Pedri and the rest are pretty nice, honestly most of the older players have taken you in as if you were their little sister and not Leo's. (come with me and the guys, so you can keep Pedri company, I think it's difficult for him to be comfortable with us being the new guy)

You honestly are suspicious of how much Leo smiles the entire evening and of Antonella giving him an annoyed look, as if he had done something wrong, yet you have no idea what.

You had fun honestly, Pedri is sweet, easy to have a conversation with once you break his shell, the other players tease him all the time, yet never say outright what the teasing is all about, but you do see the sneaky looks they give your way, yet decide to ignore them.

You don't see Pedri in a while, being a year younger than him, you are busy after entering 2nd of Bachillerato (Spanish last school year before university) and Pedri with training and getting to know Barcelona. One day you are laying around doing nothing, your brother approaches you out of nowhere, sneaky glint in his eye, trying to force down a smirk.

"Che, ¿me harías un favor?" (hey, will you do me a favor)

"Depende" (depends)

"Te quería pedir si podrías salir con Pedri, enseñarle un poco la ciudad, el pobre pibe todavía no se acostumbra" (I wanted to ask you if you could go out with Pedri, show him around the city, the poor guy doesn't get used yet)

"¿Y por qué no vas vos?" (and why don't you go?)

"Yo supongo él preferirá ir con vos que son más o menos de la misma edad" (I suppose he will prefer to go with you as you are the same age)

You end up agreeing, have a great time too, but are surprised to see Pedri knows all the places you took him to after your brother had made it sound like he had no idea. When you arrive home, he is looking expectant to see your expression, Antonella rolling her eyes besides him, after you tell him you had a great time and leave towards your room, you swear you can hear him let out a joyful noise, but decide to ignore him.

Every new season means a new shirt for the players to use during matches, and as always, Leo promises to bring you, the kids and Anto some for you all to wear, the number 10 and "Messi" on the back to show off your support for the greatest football player there is and ever will be.

He enters your room one random day to give you yours, you are too distracted by homework to check it out, but promise to do it later, you miss the way he pouts, as if he wanted to see your reaction over something.

You finish a couple hours later, the shirt almost forgotten before the bright red and blue colors catch your eye. You pick it up to examine it, it's not you favorite but it looks just fine, you turn it, expecting to see your brother's name and number on it but freeze as you realise there must have been a confusion.

A big 16 with the name Pedri on the top, you run down the stairs to inform your brother of the mistake, yet he has a sneaky smirk as he too checks the shirt out.

"Bueno, digo yo no pasará nada si la usas para un partido o dos. Incluso le podrá dar ánimos al pibe" (well, I don't think anything will happen if you use it to a match or two. Plus, it might cheer up the guy)

Leo promises to ask for another shirt for you (he doesn't mention his closet to be full of them and you don't remember it either, Antonella doesn't say anything, she wants to see for how long her husband will play matchmaker), he will take some time before giving it to you though, he is getting tired of all this, and wants Pedri to be his brother in law as soon as possible.

His plan, surprising or not, has been working out, many times you leave the house talking about going out with Pedri to do god knows what, he hears you two talk until late night hours, and he has heard some of the guys of the team teasing the Canarian about some girl he is crushing on-he really hopes you are the girl or everything will have been a great waste of time.

On the next match, you show up wearing the new shirt, you can feel the whispers behind your back about the unusual number 16 you are showing off, but do your best to ignore them.

Barça wins, a good ending for a long match after a hard season on the players, too far away from better times. You, the kids and Anto wait for Leo among the rest of the families when a boy approaches you, you recognise him as Fer, Pedri's brother from photos the midfielder has shown you.

"Buen partido, ¿no?" (good match, right?)

"Casi me da algo viéndolo" (I almost had a stroke from watching)

"Bonita camiseta por cierto" (nice shirt by the way)

You roll your eyes "Leo es un gil y me dio una que no era. Boludo, no quiero ni saber que se inventaran" (Leo is an idiot and gave me a wrong one. I don't even want to know what people will say)

"Pedri González, del máximo admirador de Messi, a salir con su hermana pequeña" (from Messi's greatest fan, to dating his little sister)

Leo frowns as he watches you laughing with the wrong brother as he walks out alongside Pedri and Piqué, he hits the later with his elbow and signals Pedri with his head, the younger boy seems to have noticed you and his brother too, as he too frowns, a saddened look in his face. Piqué clears his throat.

"¿Viste la camiseta que lleva y/n hoy?" (did you see the shirt y/n is wearing today)

The midfielder shakes his head, his eyes don't leave you figure.

"Che, yo también me fije" (hey, I noticed too)

"¿De qué hablan?" (what are you talking about?)

"Posta me parece que en la parte de atrás hay un 16, eh. Yo que vos chequearia" (I seriously think there is a 16 on the back. If I were you I would check it out)

Piqué nods, and the two watch as the boy approaches you. "¿Desde cuando haces de cupido?" (since when do you play cupid)

"Me tengo que entretener con algo, pelotudo" (I have to entertain myself with something, asshole)

Leo watches from his spot as both you and Pedri blush from whatever you are chatting about. The same behaviour goes on for the rest of the night, sneaky conversations in between you both that he unfortunately can't reach to hear. He pretends to not notice when you two dissappear sometime during the night.

He definitely doesn't squeal under Antonella's amused gaze at the end of the night, when you tell him how you and Pedri kissed and how the midfielder has asked you out for a date.

That night, when your brother is faraway from your room, you pick up Pedri's call.

"¿No deberíamos decirle que él no hizo nada, sino que ya estábamos saliendo?" (shouldn't we tell him that he didn't do anything and we were, already dating)

You shake your head "Naa, déjalo disfrutar al pobre chavon, que en verdad le gusta todo esto de ser casamentero" (noo, let the poor guy enjoy himself, he actually likes this whole matchmaker thing)

You don't think you will ever tell Leo the truth, let him think it was all thanks to him, when in fact you two have been together from the start and found it quite amusing how he played the fool with all these weird coincidences to get you two to become closer. It was time to let him in into your love though, let him know how much you actually like Pedri and he, you.

Unfortunately, after things become official, Leo becomes the most obnoxious, annoying, older brother the world has seen. But that is a story for another time.