#Mock Interview Training | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsukikitten · 1 year ago

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Actress reader and Actor Bakugou have to enact a sex scene. Of course they've got one of those little modesty covers for his dick and for you but you'll still look naked in the shot.

But there is just something about the way that he's grinding into you, his cock hard from the action of course and since your characters hate each other (just like in real life) it's supposed to be a rough passionate scene, it's hate fucking after all! Your moaning only gets louder the more he "fucks" into you echoing around the studio with tons of people looking over the two of you but his eyes are trained on you and when he thinks he hears something a little more than the over the top obvious fake sounds your character is meant to give, when it ebbs into something real (fake to real sounds per the script) he gets a little too into his character.

"That's right, take it, take this cock. Mould to me so that every other man knows that you're mine and mine alone, princess."

"You'll have to fuck me harder than that to make me cum, prince." Spitting back the title his character so hates and the nickname you've come to call him off set and in interviews if only to burrow under his skin. His eyes flash with anger and for a moment you think you've regained control.

But his thrusts come harder after that and suddenly you're trying to cover your face with your arms but he moves to pin them to the plush pillow over head. His voice rough, deep, panting out in such a mind numbing growl.

"No, I want to see the exact moment I ruin you."

Covered cock somehow grinding against your clothed slit just right, your clit throbs from the repeated action, making you lock your ankles around his waist.

Head thrown back to expose your throat that he comes down to bite as he "cums" just as he's supposed to although the lines were wholly improvised. Shuddering over top of you with his tongue lapping up the rough teeth marks he's left on your pretty skin. Pulling away to grab your jaw roughly, rutting into you with pained groans as his tongue slips into your mouth "prolonging" your release and his.

"CUT!" Comes the doctor's voice, slicing through the tension reminding you both exactly where you are. Bakugou pulls away but not too quickly, grabbing at the blankets to cover you even if the whole world was going to see your tits bouncing from his rough thrusts thanks to the network allowing borderline soft core porn on air.

"Let's take fifteen to review and recenter!" Comes the directors sharp voice and so Bakugou helps you up on shaking legs, pressing you into his side as he walks around in nothing but that "modesty" covering.

"Wow! That seemed so real you did the fake to real moaning so well!" People linger to pass you compliments until they see Bakugou snarling down at them, rushing away from the always grumpy actor. He makes sure you're sat on the couch in your dressing room, both of you lock eyes for a moment and it's obvious by his smirk that this jackass can't help but stroke his own ego.

"Ya that sure was a performance from you, ya know I almost would have thought it was real, princess." He mocks you, giving you some knowing look as your cheeks still burn from how good he was from grinding alone.

"In your fuckin dreams Prince." He can only suck his teeth and chuckle darkly at your retort. Going to cup his fat length and sac, a squishing sound can be heard and it makes you hyper aware of the wetness between your thighs. He pulls away his hand slowly, silvery strings connect to the thin fabric and his fingers before they snap and he looks up at you. Smiling devilishly, palming his damp cock sticky from more than just you but you don't have to know that.

"Then I must be dreaming huh?"

#bakugou thirst

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holyblonded · 4 months ago

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media day shenanigans | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: you are notorious for your interesting takes on media day but alexia just wants one good picture to hang up

warnings: none

notes: new series yall 💪🏾

You bounced through the halls of the training center, Alexia close behind you attempting to rub her headache away. Carla, the social media manager, was waiting at the end of the hall with the rest of the crew filming players on their walk to the locker room.

"Bon dia!" You greeted. "Media day!"

Media day was your favorite day of the season. You had a reputation to upkeep with your media day photos. Each one planned with care, your first year you dressed as a wizard from Slytherin, you second year you dressed as an emo person, and this year was going to be your best on yet.

The only downside of this media day, Alexia was your partner- per the captain's request. Alexia just wanted one good media day photo of you to hang up on the mantle at her Mari's house to go up with her and Alba's pictures, and today was the day.

Your antics began almost immediately after Carla handed her a camera.

"Here," Carla said, thrusting the camera into your hands. "Media team all agreed that we need behind-the-scenes content, and you're the only one who somehow makes chaos look marketable."

"You mean iconic," You corrected, grinning. "You've chosen well, Carla. I won't- nay can't let you down."

Alexia groaned behind you. "Great. As if she needed more encouragement."

You spun, pointing the camera at Alexia. "Say hi to your adoring fans, Ale!"

Alexia waved half-heartedly, her expression deadpan. "Hi. Help me."

You turned the camera on herself as she walked into the interview room, where Ale was already seated, looking poised and professional.

"Welcome to the Estrella Show!" You announced dramatically. "Today's guest is Ale—footballer, fashion icon-ish, and... part-time owl?"

Alexia raised an eyebrow, amused. "Excuse me?"

"Why is your face fixed like that? Like you're about to chirp 'who.'" You cackled and pointed to the reporter, who was trying not to laugh.

The reporter composed herself and smiled warmly. "Alright, ladies, let's dive in. Alexia, what's do you expect of the team this year?"

"The same thing every year. Trying our best, giving 110% every time and constantly improving," Alexia responded.

"Y/n?"

"Me? Oh, easy—vibes. I expect this team to have immaculate vibes. We win? Vibes. We lose? Vibes, but sadder. As long as we're all vibing together, it's a success," You nod, approving of your explanation.

Alexia facepalmed. "Why do I even try?"

"Because you love me," You grinned, suddenly going limp and leaning on Alexia.

The reporter laughed. "Alexia, what's it like partnering with Y/n for Media Day?"

Alexia sighed but couldn't help a small smile. "Exhausting. But... entertaining, I guess. She keeps things interesting."

You gasped in mock offense. "Only 'interesting'? Ale, venga, I'm phenomenal."

The interview proceeded somewhat smoothly—Ale stayed composed despite you trying to "spice things up" by asking Ale to rank her top five weirdest pre-game rituals. Midway through, you panned the camera toward Alexia, who was sitting nearby, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"She's pretending to be annoyed," You whispered to the camera. "But she loves me. Deep down. Very deep down."

The cafeteria was buzzing as the team settled in for a break. You, ever the opportunist, set your camera down on the table at just the right angle. Mapi sat across from Lucy, deeply engaged in a conversation with Ingrid.

You filmed the camera panning over plates of food. "We have here a wild Mapi and if you look closely you can see her famous pasta—delicious, tantalizing, guarded like the crown jewels. But today... today it's mine."

In the background, Alexia's voice could be heard faintly. "Do not start something."

Your eyes gleamed mischievously as you reached out, snagging a bite from Mapi's plate. Nobody noticed—at first. Then another huge bite. And another.

By the time you went for a fourth, Ingrid burst out laughing. "Mapi, are you really not seeing this?"

"What?" Mapi frowned, looking confused as the table burst into laughter as you filmed yourself dramatically chewing.

You feigning innocence. "What's so funny?"

Mapi's eyes narrowed, finally realizing her plate was half-empty. "Estrellita!"

In an instant, you was on your feet, camera in hand as Mapi bolted after you. The chase wound around the cafeteria, chairs and tables screeching as the team laughed and cheered.

You darted around the room, camera in hand, screaming, "THE CROWN JEWELS ARE MINE!"

Later in the afternoon, you and Alexia sat under bright studio lights for their second interview of the day. A staff member handed them a stack of photos, each one zoomed in on a teammate's body part—eyes, hands, or tattoos.

You rubbed your hands together. "Oh, I love this."

The first photo appeared on the monitor: a close-up of a tattooed arm.

Alexia leaned forward. "That's easy. Mapi."

"Correct!" the staffer said.

You groaned. "Ugh, you're no fun, Ale. Let me have a go."

The next image was a zoomed-in ear with a small earring. You squinted dramatically. "Hmm... Ingrid?"

"Wrong," Alexia said smugly. "It's Pina."

"Dang it!" You threw your head back dramatically while Alexia shook her head with a grin.

The next image popped up on the screen—a close-up of someone's knee.

"That's Caro!" You shouted immediately.

Alexia squinted. "That's not Caro. It's... Frido?"

"Wrong," said the host. "It's Ingrid."

"SEE!" You said triumphantly. "You doubt me, but you're wrong."

"So are you," Alexia rolled her eyes as her comment was ignored by the excited teen.

The next image was a zoomed-in elbow.

"Definitely Salma," Alexia said confidently.

"Nope, that's me!" You said, holding up your arm dramatically. "See? I'm an icon."

Alexia muttered something under her breath about needing a transfer to a quieter team.

By the end of the game, Alexia had a comfortable lead, but you declared yourself the "people's champion" anyway.

Finally, it was time for the photos. You stood beside Alexia, camera in hand, narrating her every move.

"And now, dear viewers, the moment you've all been waiting for. The photoshoot!"

When it came time for the pictures, you bided your time, waiting for Alexia to get distracted. Sure enough, while Alexia was chatting with the photographer about lighting, you made your move.

You grabbed a wig that matched Alexia's hair almost perfectly and threw it on, smoothing it into place. Grabbing a jersey with Alexia's number, you turned to the camera Carla had left nearby.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you said in a low voice, imitating Alexia's serious tone, "I am now the captain of this team." You strutted onto the set, striking Alexia's signature intense pose. You'd even managed to replicate Alexia's serious expression.

The real Alexia turned around mid-conversation and froze. "Estrelleta..."

"What are you doing? What are you wearing?"

"I'm you," You declared, striking a pose. "This is my homage to our captain."

The photographers and crew burst into laughter, snapping photos as you leaned dramatically against Alexia, mimicking her every move. You gave your best captainly glare. "Focus, team. This is serious business."

Alexia sighed deeply but couldn't fight the grin tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

"And you're my partner today," You said, taking off the wig, switching her jersey, and tossing it to Alexia. "Now come on, Capitana. Let's make this photo mantel-worthy for Eli."

#woso x reader #fcb femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #alexia putellas x teen!reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x platonic!reader #woso x teen!reader #barca femeni #barca femeni x teen!reader #⋆｡˚ stargirl

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anonity · 4 months ago

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SOMEONE BETTER -- oneshot

been gone for a min for a last min road trip w/ friends for new years :) happy 2025! had this in my drafts after watching the paige ep on flau’jaes podcast

WC: ~1200 summary: paige catches you and your saved basketball edits

the amount of paige edits that popped up on your for-you-page was diabolical. especially considering she was your roommate.

you were waiting for her to return from practice, feet kicked up on the coffee table of your apartment, when the first of the day came up.

originally, you’d justified your ever-growing collection of edits as hype-videos: something you could scroll through before paige’s games to get you in the right mood. for a while, that checked out – you only saved her highlights, quick moving graphics with smooth transitions.

but then it had quickly devolved into what can only be described as an obsessive fan folder, filled with edits so thirsty you think you would actually combust if anyone saw them, let alone paige.

it was bound to happen.

you continued watching edits when the door opened, kept scrolling when it closed, and carried on even as paige leaned curiously on the kitchen counter. its not like she would know who you were watching – hell, you had juju watkins videos coming up on your page every couple days, too.

this arrangement had worked perfectly for you for months. you got to indulge in your quietest delusions, and your best-friend-turned-roommate could continue on none the wiser.

until her voice rang out clearly from your phone. you would’ve played it off, really, said it was an interview clip or something, had her voice not immediately been followed by the “or nah” audio.

mortified did not even begin to describe the feeling clawing into your throat.

you scrolled impossibly fast and began praying. maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. maybe she wasn’t even in the kitchen anymore. maybe you’d imagined the entire thing and paige wasn’t even real and this was all some kind of awful dream you’d wake up from in 3, 2, 1…

“whatcha watchin’?”

you think your soul has left your body.

paige is sauntering over and looking very smug. you’re wondering how fast you can make it from the couch to the balcony.

“an interview,” you try anyway, despite the fact that not a single interview in the history of basketball has ever included fucking ty dolla sign.

paige smirks, leaning over the back of the couch. her breath tickles the top of your head and you shiver despite yourself, eyes trained on the tiktok now repeating on your phone – one of those orange muppet videos (pepe? is he supposed to be a shrimp?) stuck on the first slide. really, if it weren’t for the horrors of your current situation, you would find the irony funny. if you survived this event, maybe you would make one. you can see it now. “i’m watching edits of my roommate – my roommate walks in – i have to defend myself to my roommate –” i have to defend myself to my roommate.

“which interview?”

“umm,” you say, eloquently. you can’t think past your orange muppet spiral. “overwatch?”

paige laughs, a noise that distracts you long enough for her to yank your phone away. “overtime?”

shit.

you can barely get out a disdained “paige!” before you hear the audio repeating again. would a fall from the third floor kill you? is it still considered a fall if you jump?

you stop lunging for your phone – maybe you can just play it cool. who cares if theres a paige edit on your FYP? it's only weird if you make it weird. “you act like those don’t pop up on your for you page too.”

paige shushes you, biting her cheeks in mock-seriousness. she shushes you! the nerve! if you weren’t so mortified you would argue with her!

but you are mortified, and so you stay quiet. the silence stretches on and on until your phone also goes silent. the apartment's heating unit is suddenly very loud, and for once you aren’t irritated at the noise – instead, you just think of how much you will actually miss your loud heating unit once paige processes the situation and kicks you out of your apartment in the dead of winter.

you think it can’t get any worse, until another audio starts playing and a self-satisfied grin stretches across paiges face. “you have like 70 videos in here.”

somebody kill me.

the original silence is filled with mr. lover lover, and there is absolutely no way you can “it’s for the hype” your way out of this. she continues scrolling. you stare helplessly at the floor. after what you can only guess is six or seven incriminating edits, she pauses, her jaw clenching inexplicably. here it comes. 'get out of my apartment' – 'i can’t look at you the same anymore'. you’re so cooked. fried, even.

“whatchu got caitlin saved in here for?”

what?

you must’ve voiced that thought out loud, because she responds. “you got a thing for iowa players too?”

your brows furrow. this was not the direction you thought this would be going in. instead, theres an edge cutting through paige’s words that you can’t quite place. is she still pissed? you let out a nervous laugh. “relax, paige, it’s not like i’m making wedding plans with her.”

paige stiffens. “it’s enough for a save-the-date.”

“paige, it’s like a 30 to 1 ratio.”

“yeah, our points ratio is 30:1 too.”

what the hell? first of all, you watch enough basketball to know that's not true. second of all, again, what the hell?

“i mean, it’s fine, i get it.” paige shrugs, suddenly uninterested in your phone. she tosses it on the couch and you (slowly) slip it into your pocket before she can change her mind. “i just think it’s funny you watch her when you literally live with someone better.”

“better at what?” paige splutters. “basketball.”

suddenly, it clicks. you sit, quiet, stunned for a second. “paige, if i didn’t know any better i’d say you sound jealous.”

“it’s not jealousy! it’s.. like, respect.” paige gestures wildly, and you’d almost believe her if there wasn’t a flush creeping up her neck. you raise a brow. “respect?” “we share a netflix account! and you’re saving edits of my competition!” “you’re totally jealous.”

paige looks cornered, backing towards the kitchen. her gaze falls to the floor. “i just think, like, i dunno – i just think i care about you and i’m right here and you’re saving edits of caitlin freakin’ clark.”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes, the absurdity of this situation catching up to you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you see the orange muppet again.

“what’s so funny?”

“you’re just –” you take a deep breath. “i can’t believe your jealous over a caitlin clark edit. you act like we’re together or something.”

“maybe i wanna be.”

paige freezes. you freeze. the heater kicks off. you're moving before you can think about it, standing in front of her. her eyes stay trained to the floor.

“i’m sorry. i just – you drive me crazy.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

she finally glances up, a smile cracking. “it’s not.”

“then what are you gonna do about it?”

her hand is on your jawline in an instant, and the nervousness bubbling in your chest is finally cut off with her lips on yours. when you pull away, she’s grinning.

“30:1 edit ratio, huh?”

your face heats, and you push your head against her chest. “not funny, paige.”

“i’ll make a new folder for you – poor decisions, filled with caitlin clark edits.”

"alright that's enough."

#paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x y/n

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meazalykov · 5 months ago

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yapper

part two - part one here

barcelona femeni x reader requested

summary: the girls stick up for you during an interview

a week after the locker room moment, you feel better.

alexia’s words, esmee’s hug, and the love from your teammates reminded you that you belonged here, loud voice and all. but still, the memory of the online comments lingered. so, when you found out about the team interview, a little knot of anxiety formed in your stomach.

“just don’t overtalk,” you whispered to yourself in the mirror that morning.

“let alexia speak. everyone loves alexia.”

the studio is bright, with a camera crew buzzing around as you, alexia, ingrid, aitana, mapi, and esmee take your seats in front of a large barça logo. everyone is wearing their kits, and the energy is playful as you adjust your boots for the camera.

alexia sits to your left, esmee to your right.

“okay, everyone ready?” the interviewer asks with a cheerful tone, and you all nod.

“first question: who on the team is most likely to get a red card?”

everyone bursts into laughter before mapi speaks up.

“irene.”

“cata,” aitana adds, grinning.

“definitely cata,” ingrid agrees, nodding.

you laugh along with them, keeping your comment short.

“yeah, those two for sure.”

the interviewer smiles, moving to the next question.

“who on the team is most likely to be late to training?”

“ona,” aitana says immediately.

“no, no,” mapi protests, “it’s salma.”

“keira?” ingrid adds thoughtfully.

“oh, keira, yeah,” alexia agrees.

you can’t help but chuckle.

“we’re just exposing everyone right now.”

the conversation bounces back and forth before the interviewer jumps in again.

“who on the team is most likely to score a bicycle kick?”

“kika,” everyone says in unison.

you frown dramatically, pretending to sulk.

“i miss oshoala, she scored an amazing one last season.”

everyone laughs, nodding in agreement.

“we all miss her,” alexia says with a small smile, her voice softening.

the interview moves quickly, and you focus on staying in your lane, letting others speak. but then the question comes.

“who on the team is most likely to give a 20-minute speech on a random topic?”

before you can even react, mapi jumps out of her seat, raising her hand.

“me!”

everyone laughs, including you, but then you hear alexia.

“it’s not you. it’s y/n.”

your eyes widen, and before you can even respond, she continues.

“but don’t worry, because everyone on the team would sit for those 20 minutes and listen happily.”

esmee wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug.

“period,” she says, earning more laughter from the group.

mapi leans forward, looking straight at the camera. “los que odian deberían estar agradecidos de escuchar tu voz.” (haters should be grateful to hear your voice.)

you can’t help it—you laugh, covering your face with your hands for a second. the moment is too much, too kind.

the interviewer grins, clearly enjoying the dynamic.

“okay, next question. who is most likely to have the most screen time on their phones?”

everyone looks around, unsure.

“esmee,” you say, pointing at her without hesitation.

she nods solemnly, admitting defeat.

“yeah, it’s me.”

the room erupts in laughter.

“who is most likely to cancel plans at the last moment?”

“caroline,” mapi says, almost immediately.

“and marta,” ingrid adds with a laugh.

“yeah, those two,” alexia agrees, shaking her head fondly.

“who is most likely to have 500 contacts in their phone?”

you don’t even hesitate.

“alexia.”

she gasps, turning to you with mock outrage.

“me? no way. it’s you.”

you shake your head, laughing.

“alexia, you know everyone!”

“and you don’t? all that time in england? don’t act innocent.”

the back-and-forth makes everyone laugh, and you feel a small swell of pride.

“who is most likely to know all the new tiktok trends and dances?”

“vicky,” you say without thinking.

“100%,” esmee mumbles.

“she does it in the locker room a lot.”

ingrid giggles. “it’s true. she’s always dancing.”

“who is most likely to get a terrible tattoo?”

your eyes shift to mapi, and everyone follows your gaze.

“none of your tattoos are terrible,” you clarify quickly,

“but you’re most likely to get a bad one since you have the most tattoos, if that makes sense?”

aitana nods.

“no, that makes sense.”

mapi shrugs, clearly unbothered.

“fair.”

“who is most likely to get a yellow card?”

“y/n,” they all say in unison.

you groan, throwing your head back.

“i hate that i can’t even argue that.”

the final question is the easiest.

“who is most likely to win the 24/25 women’s champions league?”

“barcelona!” everyone shouts and yells, and you jump up, running to the camera.

pointing to the badge on your chest, you grin.

“vammoossss!!!”

the interview ends with laughter and smiles, and as you walk off the set, alexia drapes an arm around your shoulder.

“see?” she says softly.

“no one’s annoyed by you. they love you. we all do.”

you nod, the warmth of her words settling deep in your chest. you’d never forget it.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #fc barcelona #esmee brugts #alexia putellas #ingrid engen #mapi leon #aitana bonmati

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

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just like mummy II l.williamson

in the same universe as legacy and little golfer

"mila! mil? mila?" leah called out with a frown, poking her head in each room with a frown that deepened each time she didn't find her daughter.

"okay bubba this isn't funny we need to leave soon!" leah's voice wavered as she ducked down, checking under the beds with a huff as again she came up empty.

"mila? mummy isn't joking we really need to leave!" leahs chest tightened a little as she went room to room hunting for the four year old.

normally you took charge when it came to getting your daughter ready of a morning before training, but considering today was pre season media day you'd had meetings set earlier than leahs so you'd already left before the four year old was up.

normally mila was the very first awake of the three of you but last night she'd been particularly stubborn about refusing to go to bed which leah had promised to take care of after almost two hours of trying to get her settled, practically locking you in the bathroom to shower.

when you'd finished you'd found them both curled up on the lounge in front of the tv, passed out together with a rerun of the euros playing on the large screen.

so with a much later bedtime than normal she'd actually slept in to the point leahs alarm had gone off and she was stunned to be alone in bed, expecting a four year old lump curled up on the end of her bed as usual like a cat.

"ready!" the blonde almost jumped out of her skin as tiny footsteps sounded behind her.

"i look like you! wanted to match today." the girl grinned, one of leahs arsenal kits hanging down on her like a dress and her feet drowned in a pair of football boots and socks which continued to fall down.

"stay up!" the smaller blonde huffed yanking at them with a scowl which if you'd been there you'd have commented was near identical to leahs own.

"oh mila." leah chuckled, relief flooding her body replaced quickly with amusement. "you have boots! lets go find them you monkey." the blonde laughed, scooping up her daughter and tossing her over her shoulder.

"mama!" you looked away from the interviewer at the familiar scream, hiding a laugh at the way your wife grabbed the back of your daughters top trying to restrain her, other hand barely holding together her own bag as well as mila's, lia hurrying over to lend a hand.

"thats us pretty much done anyway." the interviewer smiled kindly, nodding for you to go as you thanked them and shook hands, standing up and heading over to where a small riot had taken place as mila's aunties all fought over who got a hug first.

"excuse me i think i take priority." you called out over the squabbling, leah almost taken to the floor by the force in which your daughter pulled to get to you, letting go and catching her footing as a small body slammed into your legs.

"mama you weren't there when i woke up." mila frowned as you smiled and smoothed her creased eyebrows out with your thumb, squatted down to be at her level.

"i know, but remember i told you i had to come to work early? to take pictures." you poked her stomach a few times eliciting a giggle. "oh yeah. hey look! i match mummy." mila perked back up, taking a step back and doing a spin.

"you didn't want to match me?" you gasped in mock offence, mila shaking her head with a cheeky smile and running back to leah before you could grab her.

"no i'm mummys little gunner."

it was around an hour later when the day took a turn, mila having been passed around between your teammates as you and leah fulfilled your interviews and commitments.

you were doing a few tiktoks with laia for barclays when you were interrupted by your best friend, whispering something to one of the producers who frowned but nodded.

"williamson, you're needed. can someone go find pelova to take her place please?"

confused you stepped aside, alessia grabbing your hand without another word and tugging you away. "where are we going?" you questioned with a frown. "we have a problem." the blonde sighed, refusing to elaborate much more as she pulled you out of the main room.

"wait is it mila? is she hurt? sick? do we need an ambulance?" you began to panic as you were pulled toward the change rooms. "yes, no, no, not yet." alessia answered which didn't help ease your anxiety.

"not yet!" you exclaimed though as the taller girl pulled you into the change rooms and you saw the sight in front of you, suddenly things all made sense.

"oh my god."

"just like mummy!" mila cheered, sat on the bench on lia's lap with a horrendously self cut attempt at a fringe, safety scissors confiscated and a very guilty looking kyra hovering about nearby.

"what. happened." you exhaled unable to drag your gaze away from your daughters new haircut.

"she was with kyra and i and we were colouring. then she asked for some scissors and we assumed she was going to cut out the picture from her book to show you and leah and well we looked away for like one minute and..." lia began to explain, trailing off gesturing to mila's forehead and her new 'bangs'.

"mila.." you exhaled, dragging your hands down your face as alessia rubbed your back gently. "mummy got a hair cut, so i got a hair cut." the four year old beamed clearly very proud of herself.

"has leah seen-" "nope."

though you may have jinxed it as footsteps sounded and the woman i question arrived, mila's bag in hand ready to tell the pair of you that you were all free to head to lunch.

"leah. it was an accident love, breathe." you grabbed your wifes arms watching her face change as she took in mila's haircut and the scissors sitting idly by, mouth opening and closing as she looked around the room.

"kyra. we need to go outside...for a little chat." leah warned, voice calm and face anything but as she didn't even wait for someone to explain before deciding who she was blaming for this.

"leah-" the girl couldn't even get a word out before she sprinted off, your wife quick to follow her as mila just giggled and you sighed, alessia's hand coming to sit on her shoulder.

"now i think we might need that ambulance."

#woso community #woso #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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react-js-course · 4 months ago

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Join our free Demo Session on the React JS Course at React Masters with 100% placement assistance and weekly mock interviews.

Date: 05.02.2025

Time: 8.00 PM

Mobile :+918466044555

#react js online training #placement service #reactnative #job support #reactjscourse #mock interviews #react course #web design #web development #reactnativecourse #reactjs

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woso-story · 5 months ago

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The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part One

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Last Part

The door clicked shut behind Alexia, the sound echoing in the stillness of the apartment. You stood in the kitchen, staring at the counter where her house key now sat beside the note you'd left. The apartment, once alive with laughter, the clinking of wine glasses, and the quiet murmurs of late-night conversations, now felt eerily silent. It was the same place you’d fallen in love with Alexia every day for three years, but now, it felt like a stranger’s home.

You looked around, your eyes landing on the photo of the two of you hanging by the hallway. It was taken after one of her games—a victory that had meant everything to her. Her arm was wrapped around you, her beaming smile brighter than the floodlights behind her. She’d kissed you after the photo was taken, whispering, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

But now? You weren’t sure she even saw you anymore.

---

It hadn’t always been like this.

Before her injury, Alexia was everything you could’ve dreamed of. She was magnetic, passionate, and somehow always found a way to make you feel like you were her priority, even amidst the chaos of her career. No matter how many training sessions, interviews, or away games filled her schedule, she always carved out time for you.

Date nights were sacred. Fridays at that little Italian restaurant down the street, where she’d tease you for ordering the same thing every time. Sunday mornings meant pancakes and coffee in bed, where she’d steal the blanket just to hear you groan in mock annoyance. She’d hold your hand in public, kiss your temple when you felt insecure, and whisper that you were her world.

Then came the injury.

You remembered the moment like it was yesterday. The way she clutched her knee on the pitch, her face twisted in agony. You were in the stands, your heart sinking as the medics rushed to her side. The diagnosis—a torn ACL—was devastating. But you promised her that you’d be there, no matter what.

At first, she leaned on you. She’d cry in your arms on the bad days, cursing her body for betraying her. You became her cheerleader, her nurse, her confidant. You drove her to every rehab session, stayed up late researching recovery tips, and celebrated every small victory with her.

But as the weeks turned into months, Alexia began to change.

Her frustration grew sharper, her temper shorter. The rehab wasn’t progressing as quickly as she wanted, and she lashed out at the one person who refused to leave her side—you.

“Just stop hovering!” she snapped one night when you’d tried to help her with her stretches. “I don’t need you to babysit me!”

You swallowed the hurt and gave her space, hoping it was just a bad day. But the bad days kept coming. The woman who used to hold you close now felt miles away, even when she was sitting right next to you.

---

You thought things would get better once she started to regain her strength, but if anything, they got worse. Her focus on football became obsessive, to the point where you barely saw her anymore. She spent hours at rehab, at the gym, or watching game footage. The few moments you did share were tense and fleeting—an exhausted sigh when she came home late, a distracted nod when you tried to talk about your day.

“Lex, can we have dinner together tonight?” you’d asked one evening, your voice tentative.

“I can’t,” she said without looking up from her phone. “I have a meeting with the physio.”

“But we haven’t—”

“I said I can’t!” she snapped, her tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

It was in that moment that you realized just how far apart you’d drifted.

---

The breaking point came on a Tuesday afternoon. Alexia had just come home from another long day of rehab, her face a mask of exhaustion and irritation.

“Alexia” you began cautiously, “we need to talk.”

She groaned, dropping her bag on the floor. “Not now, por favor. I’m tired.”

“No,” you said firmly, surprising even yourself. “You need to make time for this. For us.”

Her jaw tightened, but she sat down across from you, arms crossed defensively. “Fine. What is it?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. “I’m not happy, Alexia. I haven’t been for a while. I feel like I’ve lost you. Like we’ve lost us. You’re so focused on football that you don’t even see me anymore.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you have any idea how hard I’m working to get back? I’m doing this for us—for our future!”

“But at what cost?” you shot back, your voice trembling. “You’ve pushed me away. You don’t let me in. I want to help you, but you won’t let me. And I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not.”

She stood abruptly, shaking her head. “I don’t have time for this right now. I have to go—I have another session.”

“Alexia, please,” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “If you walk out that door right now, I don’t think I’ll be here when you get back.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her hand on the doorknob. Then, with a huff, she turned and walked out.

---

Packing your things was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Every item felt like a betrayal—a reminder of the love you still felt but couldn’t hold onto anymore. The framed photo of you and Alexia on your first vacation together. The jersey she’d given you, signed with a heartfelt message. The books you’d read together, curled up on the couch during lazy Sundays.

You left the key and the note on the counter, your tears smudging the ink as you wrote:

"Thank you for the time we had together. I will never forget anything. I hope you find your happiness again."

You took one last look around the apartment, the place where you’d built so many memories, and walked out the door.

---

In the days that followed, the ache in your chest was unbearable. You missed her laugh, her touch, the way she used to look at you like you were the only person in the world. But as much as it hurt, you knew you’d made the right choice.

Alexia needed to find herself again, and so did you.

And though the pain felt endless now, you held onto the hope that someday, you’d both find happiness again—whether together or apart.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso community #woso #barca femeni #woso x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia x reader #woso fics #alexia putellas

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santaasi · 1 year ago

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raison d'être

pairing: james potter x shy!reader

summary: james potter never thought that the most terrible day of his life could give him a new reason for existing

warnings: muggle au, fluff, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m alive!! but i feel like with all my uni and graduating stuff i just lost inspiration. but i promise that very soon there will be more fics! love u all. have a good time readings my new work <з

JAMES POTTER HAS NEVER BEEN A LOSER. On the contrary, his life has always been like an endless lottery win. Ideal and loving parents, who provided him with everything he needed and supported him at every step. Friends who were always there for him even in the worst. A perfect career in sports that was only going uphill every day and promised to take James to new heights. James Potter was a golden boy who always seemed to be surrounded by a halo of luck. In all his twenties, he didn't know what failure and lose were. Troubles avoided him and it was something familiar to him. That's why when everything went wrong on one of the most important days of his life, James was taken aback.

It was one of hundreds of other summer days when the weather in London was pleasing with its sunshine and warmth. And that was the day James Potter overslept for the first time in his life. And it would be fine if he was late for training or a regular meeting about plans for the week, but… James Potter overslept and was late for a meeting with their future sponsors, who would decide the fate of the team and its entry into a more perspective professional league.

But apparently this was not enough for fate (if it ever existed). The fate decided to mock James more by taking all his luck and replacing it with failure. Because as soon as he left the house and got into the car, it didn't start, although last night, when he returned from another get-together with Sirius and Remus at the bar, everything with his car was fine. He had to ride in a completely packed bus, breathing in sweat fumes and feeling someone's elbow dig into his lower ribs. By the time he got to the bus stop, the air in his lungs was starting to run out. And besides all that, James had to walk the long way to the sport base to protect his ass and buy coffee for everyone at the meeting, to pretend that this was what he had planned from the very beginning. It was Sirius's plan, which, to James' great surprise, sounded really good for the first time in what seemed like forever. But instead of going to the usual café on another street, James ran into a new coffee shop, which was right next to the sports base, which decently helped to shorten his time.

A bell rang over James's head as he entered a softly lit, bright space with a couple of tables and guests who were sitting here, working and drinking pleasantly smelling coffee. For a very recently opened place, the coffee shop probably really had a lot of popularity in the area. James covered the distance from the door to the cash desk in a couple of steps and opened a dialogue with Sirius, quickly rattling his order to the barista, whom he did not even deign to look up at.

"’m sorry, could you repeat the order more slowly? This is my first day and..." you whispered softly, biting your lip uncertainly, and James looked up. His gaze is full of anger, which made you swallow a lump in your throat.

You've never been good with people. Large crowds scared you, and even with your close friends you preferred to message rather than call. But when life shook you up and the deadlines for paying for college were already burning, you had to get over your fear and be interviewed at a new coffee shop near your house, where an employee was urgently needed. A week ago, you were over the moon when you were accepted. The job didn't seem difficult and learning the basics of barista work was even interesting, and most importantly, the customers were all friendly. And you even have a hope that working with people won't be so bad. But as soon as you were faced with James Potter's eyes full of irritation, all hope for something good immediately disappeared, replaced by fear and nervousness.

"Or... or I can call another more... experienced specialist..." you began softly, stumbling through the words.

When James Potter entered the café, he was really annoyed because of the plans that didn't go the way he wanted. But as soon as his gaze meet your frightened doe eyes, his face immediately softened and all the emotions that he had experienced before faded into nothing but pure adoration.

You were beautiful. No. You were lovely. You looked like a small frightened deer that has met a hunter in the forest. Innocent. Sweet. Elegant. James Potter didn't know that there were perfect people in this world, but looking at you, he was convinced of it. His world seemed to stop for a second, concentrating only on you and on awkward lowering of your stunning eyes and how you bit your lip and how your thin fingers was nervously fidgeting with the bottom of your apron.

You cleared your throat and said something. James didn't hear it. He was consumed by you. He wanted to get to know you. Beautiful pictures were already playing in James's head, like movie stills of how he would ask you for your phone number and how you would smile and hand him a crumpled tissue, which he would, of course, keep all day as the apple of his eye. He has already imagined your date. How he takes you to one of those silent film festivals that were taking place in London right now. How you will chat for days on end without thinking about anything. How at the end of the evening he will take you home and slightly bending down, the distance between you will be reduced, and then…

As soon as you turned around to leave, James immediately fell out of his fantasies, quickly trying not to let you leave. He reached across the counter and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to pay attention to him again. But as soon as he realized how uncultivated he was by violating your boundaries, he immediately took his hand away, stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans, guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor. It was not typical for James Potter to blush, but he could feel the heat rising up his neck, scorching his cheeks.

"Um... sorry... I-I can repeat the order," James said nervously, and you noticing his change of mood and awkwardness relaxed a little, listening attentively to his order once again.

You quickly handed him the check and asked him to wait next to the pick-up counter, smiling sweetly, which made James's heart skip a beat. He nodded wordlessly and swallowed, still feeling the tingling in his hand where your fingers touched his skin.

Waiting for his order, James couldn't take his eyes off you. Everything in him screamed that he should come up and ask you out or ask for your number, as he had done hundreds of times.… But he couldn't... something was stopping him. And so when his name came off your lips (he didn't think that his own name uttered by someone could make him almost faint) and you handed him a bag with his order, all he could do was whisper a quiet "thank you" and leave the coffee shop without even turning around.

He spent the rest of the day as if in a dream. James was sitting in a meeting trying to concentrate on the important things, but all he could think about was your smile, which made his heart skip a beat. At practice, James was also distracted, as if hearing your sonorous but soft voice everywhere, the memory of which made his body goosebumps.

James Potter spent the whole day in a daze until a bell rang above him and the door closed behind him with a thud. The cafe was empty, the chairs were raised on the tables and the one who completely confused his thoughts stood with her back to him, quietly humming some remotely familiar song playing on the radio. You slowly swayed your hips, moving backwards, mopping the white tile floor until your back hit James's hard chest. You suddenly screamed loudly and turned around, covering your mouth with hand in shock. James ran a nervous hand through his hair and frowned slightly.

"Sorry, I thought you were still working, I came in... to buy something to drink," James quickly rattled on one exhale, meeting your gaze.

You blinked quickly a couple of times, trying to move away from the shock that you experienced from an unexpected meeting with a visitor. In him, you immediately recognized the guy James, whom you first dubbed the last jerk that came to ruin your first working morning, and then you noticed how cute and sweet he was when a blu sh appeared on his cheeks and immediately melted away.

"No, no, we are still working... there were just no visitors and I decided to start cleaning early… But you can order... it's okay," you assured him, giving James a soft smile before turning around and standing behind the counter, putting the mop aside.

James looked at the menu carefully, and then at you. There was silence in the coffee shop for a couple of seconds, and you felt your cheeks start to burn from the piercing gaze of his coffee eyes. You slowly lowered your gaze, trying to hide a silly smile.

"What do you recommend?" clearing his throat, James asked without taking his eyes off you. He wanted to stay in your company as long as possible and get to know you better. At least for a little bit. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Hmm... I'm not a big fan of coffee," you thought, looking over your shoulder at the menu. "That's why I would recommend herbal tea with raspberries and mint..." you nodded, concentrating on the guy standing in front of you again and smiling. "Well, it's also my first day and I'm not sure I can make you a good coffee... so tea would be the safest option," you joked, biting the inside of your cheek.

James laughed hoarsely, throwing his head back and you shyly lowered your head, hiding the blush that became even brighter on your cheeks. James was the epitome of what the perfect man looked like in your fantasies. Slightly curly hair, warm brown eyes that when he smiled seemed to be able to warm the whole world and round glasses that brightened his face and gave him even more charm. Such a handsome guy must have had an equally beautiful girlfriend. You thought, but quickly pushed these thoughts away from you. He was just a client, you shouldn't have worried about these issues.

"Then I'll have tea... yeah... I'll have tea with raspberries and mint," James said, calming down a little, adjusting the rim of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, which had slipped off.

You nodded and turned away, brewing James your favorite tea, making yourself one cup along the way. He was lost in thought again, watching you do your job carefully and with concentration. Your finger was slowly sprinkled with herbs, mixing them with mint leaves and dried raspberries, along the way he noticed how you brought the herbs to your nose, inhaling their fragrance and gently smiled to yourself. You looked more relaxed and peaceful than you did this morning when James scared you with his impetuous words.

"Herbal tea with raspberries and mint for James," you announced the order as if there was someone beside the two of you, and James smiled brightly at you.

His hand lingered on yours for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. There was not enough air in your lungs, and it was only when James took the cup of tea from your hands that you were able to take a ragged breath that did not pass James by. The guy grinned, sipping a drink from his mug.

"Wow, this is really good! I like it," James said enthusiastically, looking right at you. His brown eyes seemed to look straight into your soul, and you swallowed nervously again, licking your lips, feeling how for a second his gaze dropped just below your eyes.

"Thank you..." James tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you expectantly.

You said your full name softly, and James seemed to echo it, tasting it. You were quickly caught again, feeling your fluffy eyelashes tickle your cheeks. James shook and lowered his head, trying to hide his spreading grin. Apparently, he was not the only one in this cafe who was fascinated by his interlocutor.

"Well, thank you for the delicious tea. See you tomorrow, love," he winked at you before leaving the cafe.

The endearing name came out of James's mouth so easily that for a second you were taken aback, standing rooted to the spot behind the cash desk with your mouth open, like a fish jumping onto dry land. But at the last moment, a quick goodbye escaped your lips, more like the creak of a door, and the ringing of a bell announced James's departure.

Through the big window, you watched him walk slowly along the street lit by lanterns, smiling like a madman and slowly sipping his tea, and something jumped in your chest.

You put your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beating hard against your rib cage, and then wrapped both hands around your cheeks, which pleasantly cooled your heated skin. And the only thing you could think about, standing in an empty coffee shop, looking at the door through which James came out, was that the barista's job might not have been so bad. At least as long as James appears in front of you, it definitely won't be bad.

And in order to see him again tomorrow, maybe you'll switch shifts with Marlene.

But only 'maybe'.

thankx for reading <3

for the first time in month, I had so much fun writing these one shot. so I hope you enjoyed it too. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

#james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #marauders fic #marauders x reader #james potter x shy!reader #james potter fluff #muggle au #– santi 🪐

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cottonlemonade · 10 months ago

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hello can i get a medium dragon fruit with coconut water for ushijima please. always with chubby reader. thank you!

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 744 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Ushijima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness

warnings: spoilers, mdni

request: fluffy-spicy long distance relationship with husband Ushijima

Toshi was the last person to stand in the way of your dreams and if that meant he was going to become the far away trophy husband to a gorgeous media relations executive, he wouldn’t complain. About two months ago - 44 days, but the loneliness made him round up - you had taken the opportunity of a temporary management position in Sydney. Your husband was confident that he could handle your absence for a while, but when he stepped into the apartment the day you had left and his usual call of “I’m home, darling” only echoed through the dark empty hallway, he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore.

The bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up automatically on his way home seemed to mock him now and so he simply handed it to the elderly couple next-door.

Upon hearing that the tall stoic man was going to be a grass widower for the time being they had promptly invited him over for dinner and you were happy to know that your husband, who was just about skilled enough to make ramen and pancakes, was taken care of. During your nightly calls, he would lean on the kitchen counter, hair still damp from the shower and absently nibble on whatever the kind neighbors had made for him. At least the time difference was no issue, he thought as he did the dishes - all alone, without you distracting him by hugging him from behind or playfully swatting at his butt with the dish towel.

It was the distance that drove him crazy. Not being able to play with your hair before falling asleep or pulling you on top of him on the couch as he watched a movie, letting his large warm hands roam over your indescribably soft skin, his fingers tracing the stretchmarks on your pudgy waist for comfort.

He had tried to distract himself by going out for drinks with his friends, but all he could think about was your mischievous little wink when your foot would “accidentally” brush his leg under the table.

Hoshiumi and Kageyama had looked alarmed when their usually blank-faced friend seemed close to tears after two glasses of wine.

He was at an open training with the national team about a week after your leave when it occurred to him that he wouldn‘t get to have sex with you for three months. Lucky for you, his fans kept you well-fed with thousands of snapshots of your sweat dripping husband from various angles, nourishing every thirsty thought you had about him ever since you boarded the plane. He returned to his phone during his breaks to find pictures, videos or voice messages of you touching yourself to the thought of him and Toshi would have to excuse himself to the locker rooms for three to five minutes before resuming his drills.

Whenever he was on the court, he now happily accepted the fine he had to pay for wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck. Post-game interviews were spent bringing you up unprompted, before the camera panned down to Hoshiumi who pushed him out of the way for a proper take on the match.

He only snapped out of his miserable wifeless stupor when Hinata excitedly announced one day that if they won this game they’d head out to play Australia next.

“Toss me all the balls.”, he said to Kageyama before they took their positions on the field. Hoshiumi huffed and protested - even louder when after momentary pondering the setter agreed.

The other team never had a chance.

All the way over in your Sydney office the staff crammed into the conference room. Having bragged practically nonstop about your husband since your arrival, your coworkers crowded around you, watching with bated breath how Ushijima Wakatoshi demolished the opposing defenses, breaking through with every spike like he was possessed. And after what was probably the shortest game you had ever seen, Japan’s fans (and the office) erupted into cheers.

Toshi ignored the reporters who all wanted a piece of the MVP and headed straight from the locker rooms to the airport, booking a last minute ticket from the back of the taxi. He’d buy clothes and toiletries once he got there. It was about 6:30 am when your doorbell rang. Holding up a bouquet of your favorite flowers you were met with your slightly out of breath husband.

“Toshi!”, you called, surprised.

“I’m home, darling.”

a/n: you definitely called in sick that day. And then next day showed him off to eeeeeveryone in the office. Thank you so much for requesting Ushijima! I always love writing for him. I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

#sunnys lemonade stand #ushijima x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #ushijima x you #ushijima fluff #hq ushijima #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima

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