#football manager 17

[skalfy]

Misunderstandings

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.1k words, part 1/probably 2

angst in this part, but planning for a happy ending.

Hi! for people waiting for part 3 of the Misa story I promise I am working on it, just been busy and got caught with some other ideas, including this one. Hope y'all enjoy this in the meantime!

Also please feel free to send me requests, I am not very quick, but would love to take on some ideas. I don't really have a complete list of players I will/won't write for, but if you send me one for someone I won't, I'll reply and let you know so you can send it elsewhere :)

--

You had no idea how you had gotten off on the complete wrong foot with Alexia Putellas.

It had only been a month since you joined Barcelona on a three year deal, fulfilling a lifelong dream while launching you far out of your comfort zone. You were shy, and coming from Tigres, and before that, college football in America, you hardly even had a former opponent to befriend. All of your new teammates were strangers, and in some cases, even strangers you’d looked up to for years. All of your teammates except one, that was.

In a strange twist of fate, you had met Ingrid Engen almost a decade prior, when the two of you were both 17. You had an aunt--not a real one, but one of your father’s old friends from college-- who had moved to Norway a few years before you were born. Your family had gone to visit Aunt Anna every couple summers, spending a week or two seeing the fjords and the beautiful traveling the countryside. The summer you were 17, Aunt Anna had invited you to stay for a whole month. It was meant to be a sort of final hurrah before you started college in the fall, and your parents agreed without much debate.

Your second night at Aunt Anna’s house in Melhus, you had headed to the football pitch down the street with the intent to complete your assigned summer workout, and instead you had met Ingrid. That evening on the pitch was the start of a whirlwind month-long friendship as the two of you bonded over your love of the sport, then grew to find you had much more in common beyond that. One night as you sat on your bed in Anna’s house, Ingrid had told you that she was gay, opening up about the feelings she had for one of her U-19 national teammates. She held you in a tight hug as, for the first time, you said out loud that you thought you might be gay too.

You had said a tearful goodbye at the end of the month, but stayed in touch with Ingrid somewhat throughout the years, exchanging infrequent texts congratulating each other on football achievements or to check in on life. You had been pleased to hear that things worked out with her national team crush, Marie, though sorry to hear it ended a few years later. She had cheered you on in turn when you had your first serious relationship with a girl at college. When you first arrived at Barça, the two of you hadn’t seen each other since that month in Melhus, even with your respective places on your senior national teams, but you still considered her a trusted friend.

During the your first month with the Blaugrana, you had gravitated immediately toward Ingrid. You were delighted to fall back into the easy friendship you had shared so many years ago, and it helped that you were nervous to attempt to befriend your other teammates. You worried that you were monopolizing Ingrid’s time, but she easily assuaged your concerns, telling you that she was happy to spend the time together and that she would be there to support you as you took opening up to the team at your own pace. She offered you an open invite to have dinner with her and Mapi whenever you were ready to branch out.

Though you mostly kept to yourself and Ingrid, the rest of the team seemed friendly and open for the most part. Pina and Patri didn’t seem to mind your shyness and often chattered happily to you, managing to include you as a third member of their two person conversations in the changing room. Your spanish wasn’t perfect, but three years playing in Mexico had brought you up to a passable level.

Keira and Lucy, often accompanied by Ona, would also frequently bring you into conversations. You got the sense that it was as much for Keira’s sake as yours, she seemed more than pleased to have another native english speaker to chat to. You appreciated their dynamics, full of biting wit and teasing that reminded you of time with your national teammates.

The one person who seemed to hold nothing but animosity towards you was the one who you had been most excited to play with. You racked your brain, but couldn’t place any reason why you so often seemed to be at the receiving end of Alexia’s ire, but it was unmistakeable. At best, she ignored you-- the few mornings you had arrived early enough for the two of you to be the only ones in the changing room, she remained stubbornly silent, hardly acknowledging you at all besides a flat look as you entered. At worst, she singled you out in training, barking critique after critique. You had a relatively thick skin, but the captain’s intense disapproval wore on you as it never seemed to relent.

The obvious explanations that you could think of for her behavior were out. You were a forward, used to playing out and out striker or tucked under as a false 9, but you hadn’t played midfield since a few times in a pinch in college, so even setting aside her unmatched abilities, she couldn’t possibly think you were threatening her place. You had hardly ever played against her, coming off the bench late in a game once against Spain, and playing most of a friendly with Tigres. You had certainly never put in a risky tackle against her, you didn’t think you had even made any impact on her. Certainly nothing she might hold a grudge for-- you hadn’t, say, nabbed a winning goal.

As far as you could tell, it seemed like it was something you had done since joining Barça, because she hadn’t seemed so frosty on your first meeting. The captain had been quiet but polite as she welcomed you to the team, even returning the shy smile you had given her when you were introduced, but by the end of the first week it became clear that you had drawn her ire.

You had asked Ingrid for her opinion, and, while she agreed that Alexia did seem to be especially critical of you, she couldn’t come up with an explanation. After thinking through it, she optimistically suggested that it could be a misguided attempt to help you adjust to the Barcelona playstyle. At the skeptical wince you gave her in response, she offered to ask Mapi to weigh in. You thanked her, but declined. Alexia’s best friend’s opinion would likely be your best chance to understand, but you were wary of putting either Ingrid or her girlfriend in an awkward position.

--

A few days after that conversation with Ingrid, a particularly bad day of practice with Alexia all over your every move had you feeling desperate. You had stuck it out to the end of the session, but raced away as soon as you could, eyes hot with unshed tears and face red with embarrassment and exertion. You passed through the changing room only long enough to kick off your boots and grab your keys and phone. Jana was inside and changed already, on a slightly shortened training plan as she returned from injury, and she called out in concern as she saw you dart for the exit.

“¿Estás bien, Y/N? ¿Qué pasó?” You shook your head as the younger player stepped toward you, not sure whether you were answering no to the first question or trying to deny anything was wrong. Either way, Jana took matters into her own hands, grabbing you gently by the elbow and guiding you to face her. “Let me drive you home, vale?” you choked back a sob and let the defender walk you towards her car.

You told Jana which apartment building you were in and she didn’t bother to plug it into the GPS, navigating the short drive easily. She had turned on some music and you were grateful that she let it play quietly without asking you any more questions. When you reached your building, she turned the car off and climbed out, circling around to meet you at the passenger side door, clearly intent on seeing you all the way in. You let her walk you through your apartment door, sinking onto one of your kitchen chairs once you were in. The defender stood at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little uncertain.

“¿Quieres que llame a alguien? Call someone?” she asked.

“Voy a llamar a Jenni. Gracias por todo. Puedes quedarte si quieres.” you replied, managing a genuine smile at the young defender. She smiled back, pulling out the chair nearest you to sit.

Jenni had been one of your closest friends at Tigres, and she was eagerly checking in on your move to Barcelona every day, but you had held back about the challenges you were having with Alexia. You were afraid to gossip about the captain, especially with Jenni, and you weren’t entirely sure what kind of reaction to expect. But after the day you had, you craved Jenni’s support and guidance too much to keep holding back.

The phone only rang twice before Jenni picked up, greeting you with a cheery “¡hola, cariño!” you tried to answer her in return, but you were caught off guard by the wave of tears that surged back at the sound of her voice. All you managed was an urgent sniffle as you fought to hold the tears at bay.

“¿Cari? ¿Qué pasa?” Jenni’s voice, now concerned, crackled through your phone’s speakers again. After a moment, you felt Jana’s hand slide onto your knee comfortingly. You turned to her and saw that she had reached her other hand out, palm up. You handed the phone to her and watched as she immediately brought it to her ear.

“Hola, Jenni. Es Jana.” she greeted her former teammate before launching into a stream of spanish too quick for you to try to follow. You zoned out to the sound of Jana’s voice, focusing on deep breaths to unclench the tight knot of tears high in your throat.

You had managed to relax yourself considerably by the time Jana brought your attention back with a light squeeze to your knee where her hand still rested. You looked up to see her holding the phone between the two of you, an expectant look on her face.

“Jenni asked if you are ready to tell what’s wrong.” You nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alexia hates me. I don’t know what I did, but she hates me and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How do you know, what is she doing? Cari, Alexia is shy and competetivo. Maybe she doesn’t know she is hurting you.”

“No, Jen.” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “She knows. If it’s just the two us she will ignore me, she can’t even look at me. When we are with the team she tells me everything I do is wrong, my touch, my passes, my shots. I know I am not as good as everyone else here, but I’m trying and none of it is enough for her. I can see how she is patient and kind with the young ones, so I know it is about me.”

“Es verdad, I haven’t been in the practices, but the others have been worried about it. I didn’t know it was so bad, but Ale has been muy dura.” Jana chimed in, and you were a little surprised to hear her mention the team was concerned.

“I thought I wanted to play here, but I can’t do this for three years. I just want to be back at Tigres.” you admitted.

“Lo siento, Y/n. Lo siento mucho. I wish I was there to hug you.” you could tell she meant it by the waver in her voice, and it made you miss her even more fiercely.

You talked through everything you could think of, all your interactions with Alexia, every idea you had eliminated for what went wrong. Jenni and Jana alternated between outrage and murmured words of comfort, but mostly just listened as you vented everything you had been holding in for weeks. By the end, you actually felt better. Whether it was the release of finally letting everything go, or the relief of hearing two people who knew Alexia agree that something wasn’t right, a weight was definitely lifted from your chest.

“So what should I do?” You finally asked Jenni. “How can I fix whatever this is?”

“Oh, nena, you shouldn’t fix this, it’s Alexia who needs to. Quandó ella escuche lo que tengo--”

“Jenni, no porfa! You can’t talk to her about this.” You loved Jenni, hot head and all, but you couldn’t let her go off on Alexia about this. “Thank you, I know you would do that for me, but I need to do this. I don’t want her to think-- I can’t ruin—”

“Vale, I understand, cari. I won’t say anything, prometo.” Jenni saved you from struggling to explain further. In the pause that followed, Jana spoke suddenly from next to you.

“I think you need to talk to Ale. O sea, if you want to understand what is in her head. Maybe Mapi knows, but,” she stopped with a shrug, and Jenni finished for her,

“Only Ale knows what Ale is thinking. Jana is right.” You nodded, even though Jenni couldn’t see you. She sighed over the phone, then continued. “It might be easier if you are gentle. Even if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Gracias, Jenni.” You were suddenly very tired. “Te amo mucho. I wish I was back with you.”

“Yo también, nena. Te amo mucho. I am here if you need me.”

“I know. Good night.”

“Good night.” You hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

Jana stood from the chair next to you and held a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you gently to your feet, then wrapped you in a hug. You immediately softened into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She held you close for a long moment, then released you into a light hold.

“I know you have Ingrid, but I’m here for you too, Y/n. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’m glad you are at Barça and I want to be your friend.” The earnest look in her eyes as she spoke nearly had your own tearing up again. You tugged her back into a hug, squeezing her fiercely before you let go.

“Gracias, Jana. I want to be your friend too. Thank you.” You could feel a smile break across your face, and she grinned in return. “I should let you go home before it is too late. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yes, gracias. It is a short drive, we are almost neighbors. You can visit me soon and I will show you!”

You walked Jana back down to her car, exchanging numbers before you said your goodbyes. Despite everything, you felt a glow of hope for your future at Barcelona. At least you had a new friend and some kind of plan.

--

You were halfway through your pre-practice routine the following morning when your phone chimed with a message. It was Jana.

Jana: ¡Hola! Do you need a ride this morning?

Jana: Because I made you leave your car

Jana: Not sorry for that 😋🚙

You had completely forgotten about your car, so you were grateful for both the reminder and the offer.

You: Yes, thank you! I can walk to you if that is easier.

Jana: Do not worry, I will pick you up. 20 minutes?

You: Perfect

True to her word, Jana picked you up outside 20 minutes later. The drive was much more lighthearted than the previous night. You asked about Jana’s english, curious about why it was so good when she had spent her whole career in Spain. She started to explain that it was part of the curriculum at La Masia, but then cracked a smile and confessed that it was mostly because she was dating Jill and it was much easier than learning Dutch.

You had been curious about the rumors around the two, and seeing the way Jana lit up made you glad to hear they were true. You said as much to the defender, which led to her telling the story of how they met during the rest of the drive. The sweet story left you both in a good mood as you pulled up to the training center.

You climbed out of the car and grabbed your bag, laughing with Jana as she came up next to you and bumped into your shoulder as you started to walk together. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dread at the thought of walking into training, and you weren’t desperately searching for any sight of Ingrid. Jana seemed to be noticing the same thing.

“You will have to let me take you home more often if it puts you in this good of a mood!” She said, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.

You were about to respond when another voice beat you to it.

“Jana. Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see Alexia approaching. Jana squeezed your shoulder where her hand rested. The captain had an unreadable expression on her face, eyes darting from you to Jana, then back to you.

“Hola, Capitana.” You said, lowering your gaze as her eyes met yours.

“Can I talk to you?” It was clear that the question was directed at you. When you didn’t immediately respond, she spoke again, voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Jana, vé sin nosotros. Iremos pronto.”

Jana caught your eye and you nodded slightly. You appreciated her willingness to look out for you, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble, not to mention you wanted to speak to Alexia anyway. The defender gave you a final squeeze to your arm before walking past Alexia toward the training center.

The two of you stood in silence. For a moment, your mind raced to guess what she had stopped you to say, but you pushed the worry down. With the way your relationship was going, it hardly seemed worth predicting what her latest criticism would be. You stared over Alexia’s shoulder, waiting.

“Jana has a girlfriend.” It was maybe the last thing you expected the midfielder to say, and you were caught completely off guard.

“What? I—I know.” You sputtered out. Jana’s last comment jumped into your mind, and when Alexia didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to continue and clarify. “What Jana said… She didn’t mean what it sounded like. She gave me a ride home last night and then this morning.”

“Bueno.” Alexia finally said, quieter than before.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, voice flat.

“Ah...” she hesitated. “No.”

The blonde turned and walked away as you watched. The good mood you had only a few minutes earlier was gone, leaving behind a sort of hollow feeling. Jana had been the one to drive you, the one with her arm around your shoulders, and the one to make a silly joke about taking you home, but still, Alexia assumed the worst of you and you only. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot for thinking you could talk anything out with the captain. A surge of hopelessness washed over you as you imagined her scrutinizing every interaction you had with your teammates in addition to your skills on the pitch, and you felt sick. You walked to where you left your car last night, pulling out your phone to text Jonatan.

You: Lo siento, estoy enferma y no puedo ir a practicar.

--

Once at home, you buried yourself under the covers on your bed. You still felt awful from the interaction with Alexia, but you were overwhelmed by a wave of other emotions-- guilt for missing practice, anger at yourself for letting a personal issue get in the way of your career, and a deep fear that things were not going to get better.

Your phone was vibrating in the other room, but you ignored it, certain it wasn’t anyone you wanted to talk to right now. Ingrid was at the practice you just left, and it was far too early for Jenni or your family to be awake in their timezones.

As you lay bundled in your bed, the adrenaline from your high emotions faded, and you found yourself suddenly fighting heavy eyelids. Slowly, you faded into sleep.

--

You awoke to a loud pounding on your apartment door. Disoriented, you dragged yourself out of bed, padding out into the living room as the noise continued. You flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open, coming suddenly face to face with your insistent visitor.

“Alexia?”

The blonde shouldered her way past you without a word, marching into your living room and looking wildly around. You closed the door and locked it before turning back to see Alexia peering into your bedroom. You snapped.

“Alexia! What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for Ingrid!” She turned to snarl at you, eyes cold.

“What? Ingrid’s not here, what are you talking about?” You were genuinely confused, and Alexia barreling her way through your apartment wasn’t helping. You reached out and caught her by the elbow as she made to walk into your bedroom. “Stop, please! Can you just explain what’s going on?”

Alexia shook your hand off her arm, but stayed put.

“I’m not stupid. You show up here while Mapi is injured and try to steal her girlfriend. I see you every day at practice all over Ingrid. You don’t talk to anyone except her, you follow her around, you take her out for coffee, all while my best friend isn’t there to see. At first I thought you were just friendly, but it’s only with her.” Her chest heaved as she paused to take a breath. “Then I realized today you skipped practice and convinced Ingrid to join you and I knew.”

Your head was spinning and you were certain your jaw was nearly on the floor. You understood Alexia’s words, but struggled to comprehend what she was saying. As it finally clicked, a burst of laughter rose up in your chest. Alexia looked on, eyes narrowed, as you found yourself almost giggling.

“I’m, I’m sorry. It’s not funny!” You managed, pulling yourself together with a deep breath. “It’s just… you’ve been making me feel awful for weeks now because you think I’m trying to steal Ingrid from your friend? Did you even think to bring it up to Mapi herself?”

The blonde made no move to respond.

“I’ve been friends with Ingrid since we were 17. Mapi knows that. If we had any interest in each other we would have sorted it out long before now. You’re completely right that I’ve been following her around and sticking by her side, but you’re completely wrong about why. God, Alexia, I just came from halfway across the world to play for a team full of people I’ve looked up to for years. I miss my family and Jenni and the rest of my old teammates. A month ago, Ingrid was the only person I knew in this entire stupid country!”

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying to calm your racing heart. Your body felt like you had just played 90 minutes of a championship final. When you eventually opened your eyes again, it was to the sight of Alexia still rooted to the same spot. She had hardly moved a muscle other than to drop her gaze to the floor, back and shoulders. rigid with tension. You left her in the bedroom doorway and walked over to sink into the same kitchen chair Jana had occupied last night.

“Y/n, I—” she started, but paused at the sound of the lock, then the knob turning on the door. It swung open.

“Y/n! Sorry to use your spare key, but you weren’t answering my texts! I would have come sooner, but I had a dentist’s appointment I had to leave practice for. Are you okay? Are you sick? Jana said you seemed fine until you talked to Alexia this morning, did she say something?”

“I’m okay.” Ingrid’s gaze caught you when you spoke, then rose to look past you as she responded.

“Good, I-- Alexia?”

“Alexia was just leaving.” You spoke before the blonde could. “Are you okay to drive home, Capitana?”

“Sí. Yes.” She answered quietly, finally moving away from your bedroom and towards the door to leave. Before she stepped out, she paused to turn your way. “Lo siento, Y/n. I will fix this.”

When the door shut behind her, you dropped your head into your arms on the table.

[sometimesanalice]

Sun Stroke

Summary: It’s been a few months since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and moved to San Diego. And when Rooster and his teammates introduce you to Dogfight football, you know you’ll never be the same again. Hard pressed and out of sorts, you take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female Reader

Length: 8k

Warnings: smut, mentions of masturbation, an ode to the jorts.

(author's note: this is a prequel to the 'Like I Can' series, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley Bradshaw was a dead man.

The hangover you’d woken up with was 100% his fault for pressing that final Blue Moon into your hand last night at the Hard Deck.

It had been a couple years since the last time the two of you had seen each other in person and even longer since you’d both lived in the same city, but he knew you. And he without a doubt knew better than to order you another drink when you were already fighting back the giggles.

But what were you going to do, not drink a free beer paid for by your longtime best friend? Not to mention the way he’d teasingly called you a lightweight in a way that sounded a little too much like a dare.

You’d only moved to San Diego a little over a month and a half ago, and maybe if you were going to own up to the role you played in earning this headache, you probably should have known better than to try and keep up with the group of aviators. But since he’d been the one to drive and you were having a good time, you’d thrown caution into the wind and cheers-ed his glass with your own with a grin.

Bad choices shouldn’t taste so good.

It was a citrus-kissed mistake you were paying for now with your head pounding as you rushed around your apartment in a frenzy trying to throw your things together to get out the door to meet everyone at the beach. It’s a feat that would have been so much more manageable if you hadn’t been surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes, all in various stages of unpacked disarray. It’s an inconvenient maze made by your own procrastination.

Those pain relievers you’d popped not too long ago couldn’t kick in quick enough.

You were running late. You hate being late.

And the way your phone keeps pinging is stressing you out even further. You know it’s Bradley and you’ve been ignoring it in favor of trying to get your act together. It goes off again, barely a minute since the last text had come through, but this time you pause your rummaging to check it.

🔴 Rooster, 11:10 AM: where are you??

🔴 Rooster, 11:17 AM: on a scale from 1-10 how bad is your hangover?

🔴 Rooster, 11:22 AM: tick tock, kid.

🔴 Rooster, 11:23 AM: bring me a coffee?

You roll your eyes at the nerve of that last one. He was going to have to beg Jimmy to make him a tar-like pot from the Hard Deck’s ancient coffee maker if he wanted any. If you were suffering through a hangover, he could suffer through being undercaffeinated.

It didn’t help that you were feeling more high strung than usual. Your vibrator had died before you could finish last night and you’d meant to buffer in time for a quick orgasm this morning, but then you’d slept through your alarm.

You hadn’t had sex since you’d broken up with your ex almost three months ago. While you were doing just fine on your own, you were getting tired of the feel of your own hands and fingers.

When your boss had mentioned the promotion that he wanted to put you forward for, you were elated until he mentioned it would involve relocating to the West Coast office. You’d been on the fence, it was the next step towards your dream job, but you were content with your life in Boston. That night when you had casually mentioned the possibility of it to your boyfriend at the time, it seemed clear to you that it would be an either-or situation.

Either you’d stay in Boston with him or you’d move to San Diego on your own.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you didn’t mention it again. Even though you were still weighing the choice in your mind. It wasn’t until a phone call with Bradley, that you’d finally settled on the right choice for you. After breaking it off with your ex, the two of you had essentially lived like roommates until you’d left without a look back.

At the time, you thought it had been a brilliant idea to use some of your less worn clothes as packing protection for your things. But now as you desperately dig through your third box labeled Bedroom looking for the sporty black and white one piece with the zipper that you know you have but can’t seem to find, you’re starting to think you might be the biggest idiot on the West Coast.

The only beach appropriate thing you’d been able to find in your frantic searching was the bright red scalloped bikini you’d bought a few years ago for a bachelorette party in Tulum wrapped around a set of pretty glass candle holders. And while it made your boobs look great, it was much sexier and revealing than what you were going for to meet up with the Daggers on their home turf.

When your phone dings yet again, you finally admit defeat and give up on your search. In a huff, you put on the bikini, giving the bow behind your neck a good tug before pulling up your denim shorts with a couple jumps, trying to speed things along.

Earlier, you’d found the sticky note that said “FRIDGE!!!” underlined a few times by a heavy hand on top of the beach bag you vaguely remember packing for yourself the night before. The soft cooler bag covered with cheerful palm leaves had been haphazardly shoved onto the top shelf and was now sitting by the front door with the rest of your things, including the low sitting pink and white striped beach chair that Bradley had given to you as a ‘Welcome to San Diego’ gift.

You take one more passing glance around your apartment you look for any stray item that might have been missed- not that you’d be able to spot anything anyways through the cardboard battleground that is your apartment- and then you’re shoving your feet into your sandals and flying out the door in a flurry.

Pulling into the private lot of the Hard Deck, you park in the open spot next to your best friend’s blue Bronco. The bar wouldn’t be open until later, but Penny had given the group of aviators’ carte blanche parking perks. It was something you were especially thankful for as you slung the heavy bags over your shoulder.

The warm coastal breeze and briny salt air were clearing the cobwebs from your head.

Even though the feel of it drifting over your bare skin reminded you of just how exposed you were in just your skimpy bikini top and frayed denim shorts, you’d only realized when you were halfway to the beach that you’d forgotten to put a shirt on in your haste to get out the door. But you were sure you’d packed an oversized linen shirt to cover up with if the sun got to be too hot.

As you pass by the well maintained, but sun-bleached patio, you see Penny sitting at one of the picnic tables with her laptop. She waves when she sees you and you raise the iced latte you’d stopped for up to her in greeting, as much as you can without having the beach chair slip off your shoulder.

Further down the beach, you see the group of energetic aviators. Nat looked a bit like an orchestral conductor the way she is directing the finishing touches on the set up. You weren’t too late, just fashionably so, but you were already planning to buy them all a round of drinks later anyways. Even though it’s just a casual hang out, you still want to make a good impression with Bradley’s friends.

It was been one of the things you’d been most worried about moving here. Rooster had opened the door for you to get to know his friends, but you didn’t want to be just an extension of your best friend in the way it felt like you had been in high school. You really liked these people and wanted to make your own friendships with them too.

You’re more than regretting the choice to try and bring everything in one go, with the way the sand is shifting under your feet and how your beach bag and chair keep bumping against each other with every step you take. And just as you’re contemplating ditching them for the moment to circle back for after you get rid of the cooler bag that’s weighing you down, you see Fritz nudge Bradley, pulling his attention away from his phone and pointing in your direction.

The wide grin that appears on his face is immediate and you feel the corners of your own mouth pulling up. California looked good on him. He seemed happier and lighter here, more like the boy you knew from back home. The one he’d been before he lost his mom and the man who’d helped raise him. You hope that one day it’ll look just as good on you. He gives the other man a quick pat on the back before he’s setting off towards you in an easy jog.

“Hey, where’s mine, kid?” Bradley asks, nodding to your drink with its ice cubes now more than half melted before effortlessly taking the heavy bag from you.

You’re so grateful for his help- now that you can feel your arm again- that you almost forget that you’re supposed to be annoyed at him.

“You know what you did, Br-adshaw,” you retort, catching on his name and hoping he could feel your attempt at a glare from behind your dark sunglasses.

It was a change you were still getting used to. You’ve known him since you were eight, he’s always been Bradley to you. But you’d caught on very quickly that everyone else here only ever seemed to call him ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’. And he’d grinned so widely the first time you’d called him by his callsign that it seemed like a confirmation to the question you’d been too apprehensive to ask.

The man didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty, the all too knowing smirk on his face confirmed everything you already knew, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhmm, sure,” you say, flatly pressing your lips together in an unamused line. You’re tempted to flip him off now that you have a free hand, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He tugs his sunglasses down his nose with a finger to look at you from over the top of them, more serious now, “But you had fun, right?”

And it’s too hard to keep up with the façade of being mad at him when he is looking at you so earnestly. When you were younger you had a higher tolerance against those big brown eyes, his ‘cow eyes’ as Carole had called them. Now that you lived here maybe you’d have a fighting chance against them again, but you felt yourself giving into them.

You were still getting use to the fact that you got to be around him all the time again, and sometimes it felt like you were relearning him as an adult. Your friendship with him felt just as familiar as it always had, but you could admit it was also different now.

“A little too much,” you say with a light laugh at your own expense, “But yes, I had fun, Rooster. I really like your friends.”

He smiles, pleased. “Ok, good.”

Bradley slings an arm over your shoulder and the two of you start walking towards the rest of the group. You hold your drink up for him to take a sip as a sign of truce.

He grimaces at the taste, “Why does it taste like I just licked some of that potpourri shit my Grandma Rose used to keep in her house?”

“Maybe because it’s a lavender latte,” you say, taking a smug sip of your own now that the two of you were even. The coffee shop you’d stopped at has become your favorite in the area. It was a little thing, but you liked having a go-to spot when so much still felt so new to you.

“You’ve only been here a few weeks and they’ve already got you drinking the California Kool-Aid? Coffee should taste like coffee, not a damn flower,” he gripes.

“You sound like you’re seventy. Next, you’ll be yelling at kids to get off your grass,” you tease, nudging his ribs with your elbow. “And I’ll have you know I liked these before I moved here. It was just an extra selling point getting one this morning because I know you aren’t going to drink it all when my back is turned.”

He barks a laugh, “Now that I know there were ulterior motives involved, I might just have to help you finish it.”

You stop and push your sunglasses onto the top of your head, giving him a firm look, “You’re still on friendship probation, tread carefully where my coffee is involved.”

Bradley playfully reaches out for your coffee, “You don’t scare me, kid.”  You attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

The two of you had basically reached the rest of the group. The gentle crash of the waves was mingling with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from a speaker and the bursts of easy laughter of his friends. Jake is a few feet from the two of you at the edge of the set up as he works to cover himself with sunscreen, the mist sparkling on the fine hairs on his forearms before he rubs it in. 

“You might have those curls figured out now, but I bet my mom still has photos of you with that terrible middle part from when you were thirteen. Don’t mess with me, Bradshaw.”

His head snaps towards you, “Your potpourri coffee is safe, I promise.” You can’t help but laugh at the panic in his voice and the way he warily eyes Jake, clearly not wanting the other man to get his hands on any potential blackmail material.

The sound of a low, exaggerated whistle pulls your attention over to Hangman. “Lookin’ good, kid,” Jake drawls, a pair of dimples punctuating his lazy grin on either cheek, “Red is definitely your color.” His pecs and abs are gleaming in the sun. He’s not your usual type, but it’s working for you more than it should.

God, you really needed to get laid. Or at least get a more reliable vibrator.

“Nah, I’m not having any of that,” Bradley warns, pointing a finger at him, “You cut that shit out right now, Seresin.”

Jake puts his hands up in surrender, but that sharp smile gets even wider, “Just givin’ the lady a compliment, Rooster, don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He sends you a wink and you think you hear Bradley grumble something under his breath.

The blonde with all his pretty boy looks was absolutely a shark when it came to finding ways to get under Rooster’s skin. You’d heard your best friend complain about him for years. And even after learning about their truce, you hadn’t been too sure about meeting him in person. But ultimately his easy charm had won you over pretty quickly. You could admit that now you had a lot of fun teaming up with Jake and riling Bradley up.

“Thank you, Jacob,” you sing, tugging on Rooster’s arm towards the spot that had been left open for you in between his things and what you recognized as Natasha’s oversized beach towel.

You gingerly balance your coffee on the arm of his deep green beach chair before dropping the rest of your things into the sand and take in the carefully curated beach arrangement.

Fritz and Harvard are off to the side casually tossing a frisbee back and forth between them. Callie and Nat were facing off against Coyote and Payback in a game of cornhole laughing as they shit talk. Yale looks like he is napping, but you spot the AirPods in his ears, probably trying to listen to the audiobook he’d recommend to you last night in peace. Next to him is Fanboy, who looks pretty engrossed in the comic book he’s reading. And Bob was making his way back up the beach towards the group from where he’d been down by the water.

“I’m going to go offload that and say ‘hi’ to people,” you tell Rooster. Taking the heavy cooler bag back from him, you set off towards the designated grazing area in the middle of the ocean-facing semicircle Nat had corralled people into, greeting his friends as you pass by.

You were more than a little curious about tipsy you had packed for the day. Unzipping the bag, the first thing you spot is the last thing you ever would have expected to find for a day at the beach.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, hesitating for a moment, unsure whether or not to add it to the rest of the things in the cooler.

“Are those pickles?” You turn to see Mickey standing behind you.

You hold the jar up for his inspection, “I can’t tell you what I was thinking by bringing them. Do you think I should put them in?”

He surprises you when he whoops and takes the jar from you, holding it above his head like a championship belt, “Yo, Payback! Look! The kid brought pickles!”

“Which kind?” Reuben calls back, taking a pause from the game with a beanbag still clutched in his hand.

“Claussen! The whole kind!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he hoots, sending you a thumbs up. “Grab me one too, Fanboy.”

Mickey twists open the lid with a satisfying pop and fishes one out. “These are the best, thanks!” he says before excitedly hustling off towards Reuben to share, the cornhole game now on an indefinite pause.

You hadn’t been too sure what tipsy you had been thinking, but apparently the beach pickles were destined to be a hit. Either that or you weren’t the only one trying to shake off the tail end of a hangover this morning.

Bob swings by to grab a soda, but stops to help you unload the rest of the things from your bag. As the two of you work together, he tells you about the crab he’d found near the patio of the Hard Deck that he’d just released back into the ocean. 

Both of the large coolers were pretty packed, so no one would be going hungry or thirsty today. You make a note to shop around for one of your own and maybe a beach umbrella since no one else seems to have one. You were more of a sand, sea, shade type of girl.

Once everything is all put away, you grab a couple bottles of water and make your way back to your friend. You catch him taking another curious sip of your coffee, this time he nods like the taste might be growing on him. You let it slide because you see that while you’ve been away he’s set up your chair for you.

“Are you feeling peckish, Rooster?” you ask, plopping the water in his cup holder, eyeing the pilfered bag of trail mix he must have pulled out of your tote bag in his hands.

“What?” Bradley shrugs, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him affectionately as he helps himself to another handful. “God, I’ve missed this. Japan has so much good food, but one of the perks of being back stateside after a year and a half is all the snacks. I’ve been going to Trader Joe’s like twice a week since I’ve been back.”

You still didn’t know anything about the mission that had brought him back to Top Gun. That phone call you’d had with him the night before he’d shipped off had played in your mind on repeat until he’d texted you that he was back safely in San Diego. The only thing you had been able to glean is that not everything went according to plan, based on his newest additions to his collection of scars. They were the first thing you’d noticed when he’d picked you up at the airport. Still shiny, pink, and fresh.

“Well, with that Hawaiian shirt collection of yours, you’d certainly fit in.”

He chuckles at that as he takes a moment to sort through the collection of various nuts and fruit and chocolate bits, he plucks out the raisins and drops them back in the bag. You bite back a smile because some things never change. He’s always pulled out the raisins, usually to replace them with more chocolate chips. Back when you were teens, his infamous ‘Bradshaw Mix’ was basically a 3-1 ratio of chocolate chips to anything else.

“Wait a second. Hold up, ‘peckish’?” His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, “Was that a joke at the expense of my callsign, kid?”

You point at yourself like who me? blinking innocently at him, “I would never.” Then grabbing a few of the nuts from his open hand you pop them into your mouth, shooting him a sunny grin.

Now that everything was all situated you felt like you could finally relax. You were like this when you traveled too, never at ease until you were through security with your bag stowed above your head. That tightness in your chest only releases after you’re buckled into your seat with all your in-flight necessities tucked away in the seat pocket in front of you.

Maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice the shirt that he was wearing. Well, mostly wearing. The sleeves had been cut off with an overenthusiastic hand and neared nip slip territory with the amount of Rooster’s golden skin that was on display.

“The Hooters shirt, really? Of all the things you could have held onto from your glory days, you chose that? How gauche.” You slide your sunglasses back on your face with your pinky exaggeratedly pointed up to the sky for dramatic flair.

He clutches his chest, “She’s got that fancy degree and been living in a big city and now she thinks she’s too good for Hooters? My, my how times have changed.” Bradley whips his tank off and tosses at you the same way he had done hundreds of times when the two of you were growing up.  Except the overpowering smell of teen spirit and axe body spray was replaced with a subtle, rich woodsy smell.

Rooster laughs when you succumb to the urge and throw him your middle finger. 

“Your motley crew of teenaged horndogs only went there because you all had a crush on Danielle Batula’s older sister,” you shoot back, folding up his shirt and putting it on top of your things.

“Hey now, we also went for the Lots-a-Tots. I’ve always been a feminist, kid, if a woman feels empowered wearing those spandex shorts then I’m going to support her,” he says with a wink, “Far be it from me to tell a woman what to wear.” You reach up to flick his nose and he bats at your hand, grinning even wider.

“And what’s the excuse for the reason you’re wearing jorts at the beach?”

Not that any man should be able to pull them off, but he wore them well. You were pretty sure he could pull off most anything with the body he’d worked for over the years, but the fact of the matter was that denim had no place mixing with sand.

“These are my beach jeans,” he says like it’s the most logical thing in the world, as he strikes a pose with his hip cocked out.

“I can see that, Rooster. But why?”

“It’s because they get him laid,” Javy cuts in with a booming laugh, slapping Bradley on the back as he passes by on his way towards the coolers, “Isn’t that right, Bradshaw? How many numbers did you score the last time we all did this? Like five?”

He runs his against the back of his neck, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever known him to be, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. She doesn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Oh.” It sounds just as stupid coming out of your mouth as you feel, not entirely sure how to respond or what to do with yourself.

Objectively speaking, you know your best friend is attractive. Tall, broad, and tan. You’d seen him get hit on more than a few times at the Hard Deck in the short time you’ve been here. But Rooster’s sex life wasn’t something you really wanted to hear about- or think about- especially when yours is nonexistent at the moment. 

However, it was one thing to generally know Bradley had no problem finding someone to take home and a different thing to hear just how easy it was for him. 

But you couldn’t say it surprised you though. During your first night out with everyone, you’d overheard a girl in the bathroom talking to her friend about him in more detail than you ever wanted to know, right down to confirming there had been more to the story he’d told you about how he’d earned his callsign.

You pointedly ignore the turn in conversation in favor of digging through your woven beach bag. You hadn’t had the time to apply sunscreen with all your rushing around to get here, and knowing Rooster he most likely hadn’t put any on either. His shoulders aren’t pink yet, but they undoubtedly will be by the end of the day. Even with the SPF 65 you’d purchased with him in mind.

Grabbing the bottle, you smoothly lob it to him, “Here, put that on. ‘Lobster’ isn’t nearly as cool of a callsign, Rooster.” You have to turn away from the chaotically haphazard way he rubs it all over his face. 

Leaving him to his own devices, you pull out a battered paperback book and toss it into your chair, only slightly mortified to see that tipsy you had been in a grocery store bodice ripper mood. If only you had noticed it earlier, you would have swapped it out for something less incriminating.

How you’d taken the time to unpack your books, and not all your clothes was beyond you.

You’re about to step around to the front of your pink and white striped chair when you feel a firm tug on the belt loop of your shorts, making you stop to turn back towards your best friend.

“Woah, get back here. We can’t have you frying, kid.” He squeezes some sunscreen into his hand, “Turn around and I’ll get your back for you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you say, adamantly shaking your head, “I trust you with a lot of things, but I am not trusting you to put the SPF on me. You haven’t even rubbed it all the way in on your face yet.” You thumb at the smear of white on his cheek to further emphasize the point.

“Hey, these hands handle a multimillion-dollar fighter jet, I’m more than capable of covering your back with sunscreen,” Rooster huffs, “Now, c’mere.”

Natasha laughs beside you as you dart out of his reach and around your chair to stand by her instead. She must have just walked up, because the last time you’d seen her she had been over on the other side of the group talking to Callie. But you had every confidence she would back you up with this since her friendship with Bradley was one that spanned years, and she’s undoubtedly seen him fried to a crisp before too.

“She makes a good point,” she says with a smirk, pinning him with a sharp raise of her eyebrow, “The last time I asked one of you guys, I ended up with the worst tan lines.”

The look of betrayal on his face is comical, “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I’ve decided to upgrade,” she says pointing to you. You beam in victory towards him and he just shakes his head at you before looking down at the large blob so sunscreen in the center of his large palm like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

You take Natasha up on her offer to help you cover the spots you can’t reach. All the while, you can hear him grumbling to himself as he works on rubbing in the dollop that had been meant for you over his shoulders and chest. After she’s done with your back, you shimmy out of your shorts and work on getting your arms and legs covered.

As Nat pulls up her thick, shiny hair onto the top of her head- the reason she must have come over here in the first place- and reminds Rooster about the plan to play ‘Dogfight’ football a little later before setting off again. You’d heard of flag football, but that name was new for you. You’d seen enough football with your ex and you were suddenly very grateful you’d brought a book to keep yourself occupied, even if it was a bodice ripper. 

You double check your set up, ready to hunker down, when you feel Rooster’s eyes trained on you, “What?”

“Just looking for evidence of this tattoo you allegedly have,” he says, doubtfully, “Considering that I only found out about last night. Since when do we keep secrets?”

“I told you it’s not for the viewing public, so it’s none of your business. Now, stop hovering and go play with your friends. You’re annoying me,” you say without heat, shooing him away.

“Are you bossing me around, kid?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yep,” you say breezily, getting comfortable in your chair and opening your book, “You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“You’d think,” Rooster agrees with a laugh. He squeezes your shoulder before strutting off to go join where Coyote, Harvard, and Fanboy are already tossing a football back and forth not too far away.

Now that you’re on your own, you lose yourself in the words printed on the cheap paper of your smutty bargain book. You’re too engrossed in the tension and build-up of the story you’re reading to pay attention to anything else. And you’re reminded why this particular book has never made it into a donation box when you do your spring cleaning, it’s got the best combination of all your favorite tropes. By the fourth chapter you’re completely immersed in the story, and all the chatter happening around you becomes white noise.

The only signal of time passing is marked by the melted ice in your empty coffee cup, by the crinkle of swiftly turning of pages, and by the sun as it rises higher and higher in the sky.

What minimal marine layer there had been when you’d first arrived is long gone. You’re probably due for another layer of sunscreen by now, but you can’t be bothered when you’re in the middle of possibly one of the hottest sex scenes you’ve ever read.

It’s so well written, so incredibly vivid that you can almost feel greedy hands and wandering mouths along every inch of you. The blood thrumming in your ears has drowned out the sound of crashing waves. You’re so hyperaware of your body. It’s as if you can feel every individual grain of sand on your skin. Tucked between your fingers, on your shin, in the nook of your ankle bone. The high heat of the day has your hair sticking to the back of your neck and sweat collecting in the hollow of your collarbone. You’re too keenly aware of the prickling sensation on your shoulders and the tops of your thighs.

You thought living vicariously through the main character might help take the edge off. Instead, all it’s done is given fresh life to the ruined orgasm from the night before, like an echo of need reverberating throughout your whole body. A reminder of how untouched you’ve been over the last few months. You can’t help the way you’re shifting in your chair, trying to relieve the way your clit is throbbing in time with your heartbeat. The moment your cunt clenches around nothing, you close your book with a sharp snap. Not even bothering to mark the page you left off at.

You feel fidgety and keyed up. 

Needing something to do, you grab your tote looking for the lightweight linen coverup you assumed was packed. But digging around all you can find is Rooster’s Hooters shirt from earlier.

You’re more than a little irritated at yourself for not double-checking you had everything before you left for the day, and because your tipsy self had clearly fucked you over. You don’t know anyone else as well as you know Bradley to rummage through their things to look for some other form of sun protection, so with a huff you pull it on over your head. The cotton is soft and warm to the touch. You’re grateful for the way it covers your shoulders, but you’re already mentally preparing yourself for how smug he’ll be when he sees you in it, especially after all the shit you gave him earlier.

Still needing to keep yourself occupied from wanting to crawl out of your skin, you crack open the water bottle you’d grabbed earlier and swallow down a few large gulps. You’d heard when Natasha had rallied the group for their game, but you hadn’t taken a moment to find out what ‘Dogfight’ Football actually was.

You’re not even the slightest bit prepared for what you see playing out in front of you down by the water. You’d figured watching some of their football game would help your act together, but now you feel even more spun out of control than before at the sight of so much skin.

Fuck.

The sun is bouncing off of their hard, athletic bodies. Under the shiny sheen of sunscreen and sweat, their muscles look bigger and the divots and ridges more pronounced. You knew these were some of the best and brightest the Navy had to offer, but seeing them in action was something else entirely. The power of their legs was impressive as they ran and spun around their opponents. The precision of their aim as they threw the football to a teammate. Every single one of them was in peak shape. Those weren’t vanity muscles, those were earned and honed by hard work.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from any of it.

The lithe line of Natasha’s toned thighs. The full, defined pecs on Jake’s massive chest. The way Bob’s large hands easily wrapped around most of the curved football he’d just caught. The skin over the wide expanse of Javy’s back was pulled taut, his muscles flexing as he twists and bends. The way Mickey was breathing hard made his chiseled abs stand out even more than they already did.

It was a lot. Especially for someone who couldn’t remember the last time they’d been good and truly fucked.

And then there was Rooster.

There had been a few moments since moving here where you’d been struck by this version of him. It was almost like your brain couldn’t connect the tall, broad man in front of you racing across the beach with the long-limbed, gangly boy you’d known with the red and black braces. Or the one in the teal shirt who’d scooped ice cream for his first job. Or the one who’d helped you pass Algebra 2 when the math teacher cared more about coaching the basketball team than he did trying to make sure his students understood the material.

Seeing him now, like this? This version of him was new to you.

Rooster’s chest and face were flushed pink, those curls of his are an absolute riot. The sweat he’d worked up made it look like his golden skin was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun, even with the patches of gritty sand that were sticking to him. Power and control radiated off every inch of him, the embodiment of physical strength and agility. Every movement he made was purposeful and precise, like he knew exactly what he was capable of.

You knew he was built, but the casual perfection of his body still takes you by surprise.

The broadness of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps and arms, the jutting v-shaped muscle that ran diagonally from his hipbones towards the trail of fine hair below his belly button. The long tendon that ran along the side of his neck was on full display as he throws his head back to laugh at something one of his teammates says. It was impossible to miss the unapologetic confidence in his swagger or the way those ridiculous jorts were clinging to his thick thighs. They were absolutely soaked through, the light wash darkened by the Pacific, and the denim was molded to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. 

When did Bradley get an ass like that?

The startling intrusive thought about your best friend has you shooting up from your chair in a flash, your book tumbling off your lap and into the warm sand.

Jesus Christ, you needed to get a grip.

Shade. You needed shade and to get out of the heat. And you definitely needed to get away from the overwhelming display of sunkissed sweaty skin and peak physical prowess playing out before you.

And then you’re off like a shot towards the Hard Deck.

The burst of cool air you’re hit with as soon as you’re pushing through the patio door that Penny left unlocked for the group is more than welcomed against your overheated skin, even as it makes goosebumps erupt along your body.

You sigh in relief once you flip the lock to the worn wooden door of the bathroom closed. Leaning against the cool surface that’s littered with faded stickers from all around the world, you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your racing heartbeat to slow down. You’re breathing hard like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs uncooperative to the point where you don’t feel like you can take a full breath. You’ve never felt this antsy before, it’s like there’s a live wire under your skin.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re more than a little windblown, but it’s the wild gleam in your eyes that surprises you the most, it’s a look on yourself that you’ve never seen before. Your thighs rub together as you shift your weight on your feet and it makes the pulsing of your clit impossible to ignore.

You weren’t. You shouldn’t.

But you have no idea how you’re going to make it through the rest of the afternoon and evening if you didn’t with how on edge you are.

Bringing your hand up to your chest, you press it there and let your thumb soothingly skim the side of your neck, trying to use whatever techniques you’d learned in those overpriced yoga classes you’d started taking before you’d left Boston to calm yourself down. But your fluttery pulse won’t be pacified.

Every part of you feels hypersensitive, you can feel every thread of Rooster’s shirt against your too tight skin. The desire to be touched is overwhelming. Your breasts feel heavy and you’re all too aware of your peaked nipples against the cups of your swimsuit. You’re craving hands other than your own.

It’s been so long since someone else has made you come. Even longer since you’ve had a back-arching, toe-curling, steal-your-breath kind of orgasm. You want to be pressed into the door, you want a firm, solid body fitted against yours. You want to be kissed and touched and fucked.

You keep telling yourself that you aren’t going to, even as your hand trails down the soft cotton between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach down even further. Your fingers sneak easily beneath the top of your bikini bottoms since you’d left without pulling your denim shorts back on. There are no thoughts left in your head, only the ringing in your ears. You need, you need.

There’s a small whimper that escapes you at the first touch of your fingertips against your slippery clit. The sensation has your hips jerking forward on their own, seeing out more. You’re so wet already.

There’s no finesse or slow build up. No gentle teasing or trying to draw this out. Your fingers are making quick, tight circles on that pulsing part of you. In the quiet of the bathroom, the rhythmic slick sounds you’re creating feel almost too loud.

You already know it’s not going to take you long to get there, but you still can’t help but let your mind wander. You think of big hands with thick fingers, ones that are calloused and rougher than your own touching you in just the way you like. The thought of a thick thigh pressed in between your own, on you could rock and grind against, has you rolling your hips harder against your fingertips. You can almost feel the ghosting of hot lips, a wet mouth, and a teasing tongue along your neck. All you want is a raspy voice in your ear whispering filthy words and murmuring pretty praise.

Couldn’t even wait until you got home. C’mon then, dirty girl, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone and no one’s watching.

Go on, give that needy clit the attention it deserves. Spread your thighs open further- yes, just like that- I want to see how wet you are for me.

Jesus, look how hard you’re working for it. You’re going to make yourself come, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that everyone will know what we did in here. They’ll all know how desperate you were for this cock.

A soft whine makes its way out of you, and with your free hand you pull up the collar of the shirt you’re wearing over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds as you tremble all over.

You’re hit with the scent of clean laundry and the warm, woodsy scent of expensive cologne. It’s rich and cozy, it reminds you of the trees that grow everywhere in your hometown. And underneath that, there’s a smell that you’d know anywhere, one you’ve always been familiar with. It smells like Br--

You come open-mouthed with stars blooming behind your eyelids, the force of it hitting you so hard that your knees nearly give out beneath you. The hand that had been covering your mouth slaps against the door for support. Your hips writhe against your fingertips as you chase those last shimmery moments of your release.

In your post-orgasm satisfaction, you feel like you can finally breathe again, now that all your antsy, unsettled energy has been freed from your body.

When you can feel your legs again, you go wash your hands once and then again for good measure. Like somehow it’ll erase the last few minutes from the Hard Deck’s history books, even though you’re sure it’s seen much worse. You chance a peek at yourself in the mirror, you look more relaxed than you did when you’d arrived.

Unlocking the door, you leave the sanctuary of the quiet bathroom. The only thing on your mind is the glass of ice water that’s calling your name. You’re about to round the corner out of the hallway when you collide into someone’s chest. A firm, sweaty, shirtless chest.

“Oh hey, there you are,” Rooster says, his big hand steadying you at the waist. “You ok? You look overheated, kid.”

Your face heats up immediately. You’re too flustered by what just occurred barely five minutes ago to look him in the eye. You feel embarrassment trying to bubble its way to the surface, but you push it back down in the name of self-care. Plus, you could always blame it on sunstroke if you had to, not that you were ever planning on telling anyone about it.

“Probably just dehydrated,” you ramble, trying to sound unaffected. Your eyes are trained on a spot just under his ear. “But you’re one to talk. You’re fried, Rooster.” With a finger you press lightly on his bright pink shoulder. His hisses and knocks your hand away.

“Nah, I’m just working on my base tan.” You don’t see as much as you feel the moment he notices what you’re wearing. Smugness rolling off of him in waves, “Not too good for Hooters now, are you?”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“C’mon, let’s get you some water.” Tucking you under his arm as he steers you back towards the bar. “So what did you think of Dogfight football? Did you catch any of it or did your highbrow literary choice have your full, undivided attention?”

Your mind starts to whirl, unable to think of a reply. Thankfully you’re spared giving him an answer as the rest of the clamorous team spills in through the open patio door. The commotion is a godsend, because it’s almost like he forgot he even asked the question in the first place in the all the activity. The real answer will forever be a secret between you and the Hard Deck.

The late afternoon melts into evening like hand-churned ice cream, smooth and silky.

Eventually, the beach set up is packed away into trunks of cars as the party moves inside the bar. You end up back in your denim shorts, the Hooters shirt is the crowning glory to your ensemble for the rest of the night. You don’t even feel guilty getting people to call Rooster ‘Flamingo’ after the third time someone asks you about being out of uniform regulation. But he isn’t faring much better in the too-tight shirt he was borrowing, since it turns out that out of everyone in the group only Bob had been the one with enough common sense to pack a spare one.

As predicted, the pink hue of Rooster’s skin deepens with every passing hour until he’s bribing you into leaving early with the promise of burgers and milkshakes in exchange for putting on aloe for him back at his place.

He’s sprawled face down on his couch in a pair of loose sweatpants with his eyes closed, contentedly humming as you work on applying a second coat of the cool, soothing gel to his hot-to-the-touch skin. One of the movies the two of you use to watch all the time plays on in the background, the crumpled wrappers and empty cups of your dinner sitting out still on his coffee table. Every time you come here you can’t help but seek out any little touches that look like him, but much like yours, his condo seems to be a work in progress.

“It’s nice having you around, kid,” Rooster says with a sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Bradshaw, I’ll put one more layer on for you before I leave,” you tease, as your hand follows the freckles along his back.

He squeezes your knee, “No, seriously. I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really happy you’re here.” And you know that if you were to look in his brown eyes, you’d see nothing but fondness reflected in them.

You give him a soft smile, “I’m happy I’m here too.”

It’s late by the time you get back to your place.

It seems pointless with the cardboard boxes still scattered around your apartment, but you still go through the motion of putting all your things away. Like wiping out your cooler bag and throwing your clothes in the washing machine, including the well-worn Hooters shirt. You’ve already decided to spend the rest of your weekend trying to unpack your things, you’re ready to make your space feel more like your home.

It’s a slow sinking feeling that settles over you as you wash the sand and sea salt from your skin in the shower. Your day has been so filled with chatter and laughter, that it feels uncomfortably quiet. It was different from the peaceful quiet you’d had at Rooster’s place, this was the empty kind of quiet. 

You turn the tv on in your room and crawl into bed, savoring the way the cool cotton of your sheets feels against your legs. Checking your phone, you see that Nat has sent you some pictures that she must have taken during the day. Scrolling through them you like the windblown, carefree girl you see in them.

For as good as the day you’ve had, you can’t quite shake off how lonely you’re feeling now. You can’t help but think about how nice it would be to come home and have someone here to laugh and relax with. Someone just to be with.

You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as you click into the app store feature on your phone. Taking a few moments to skim the options, you download the dating app with the highest rating and best reviews, deciding that it can’t hurt to try.

Not everyone got to have a fresh start in a new city, and you wanted to make the most of it. A new city with new places to go and new people to meet.

And you are ready to embrace every bit of it with open arms and a hopeful heart.

California was going to look good on you.

Bradley Bradshaw, you liked that lavender latte and you're not fooling any of us!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @callsignspark for being the best babes to swoon over pretty pilots with!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[uniteds]

stuff that happened in the 2022/2023 football season that should send us into a coma but we’re too desensitized:

1. the whole ass world cup in the middle of the season. what was that

2. manchester united sacking ronaldo and announcing a sale of the club in the middle of the world cup

3. ronaldo getting dropped at the world cup and his replacement scoring a hattrick immediately after

4. keeping up with the belgians (world cup edition)

5. keeping up with the belgians (courtois saying he doesn’t respect kdb after stealing his missus)

6. ronaldo stans beefing with a little moroccan girl

7. the kingdom of saudi arabia buying newcastle united and then telling the premier league that they didn’t and the premier league going “oh okay if you say so”

8. megan thee stallion being romelu lukaku’s date to lautaro martinez’s wedding

9. pique cheating on shakira and then shakira releasing a diss track about it

10. shakira figuring out pique cheated on her because someone ate her strawberry jam and pique doesn’t eat strawberry jam

11. apparently the girl pique cheated on shakira with (clara) cheating on pique with pep

12. wagatha christie libel case

13. real madrid dropping a video accusing barcelona of fascism and the government of cataluyna getting involved

14. the pope coming out as a manchester united fan

15. the one napoli fan that basically made zielinski strip on the pitch

16. mount vesuvius park shutting down because napoli fans wanted to fake an eruption as a celebration

17. frank lampard taking everton into a relegation battle, getting sacked, and then taking chelsea into a relegation battle

18. on that note: chelsea were in a relegation scrap and finished 12th

19. mourinho lost his first ever european final to sevilla europa league black magic

20. whatever the fuck borussia dortmund did on the last day of the bundesliga season

21. anthony martial’s ex wife chasing his first wife down a french motorway with a baby in the passenger seat

22. psg suspending messi because he took an unsanctioned trip to saudi arabia and then unsuspending him two days later because they didn’t want people talking about geopolitics

23. the absolutely bizarre messi apology video released by psg

24. spurs refunding their fans’ tickets after being embarrassing

25. pep’s heartbreak over the fact julia roberts is a manchester united fan

26. chelsea scored one goal in the month of april

27. chelsea and spurs had six managers between them and won one match combined between march and april

28. mourinho fighting anthony taylor after the europa league final

29. milan derby in the ucl for the first time since 2005

30. luis enrique saying he’s cool with the spanish players having sex during the world cup as long as they’re not having orgies

31. luis enrique saying he doesn’t have sex anymore unless his wife wants to

32. man city charged with 115 counts of financial doping and trying to get the barrister in charge disqualified because he’s an arsenal fan

33. mourinho wire-taping himself to catch referees being corrupt

34. ryan reynolds and mac from it’s always sunny in philadelphia buying a football club and that football club getting promoted

35. pele died rip

36. women football awards sponsored by shein and klarna having a category for “male football ally of the year” and it’s just random men that went to one (1) women’s game

37. barcelona negreia case (how do you say calciopoli in catalan?)

38. infantino saying he feels gay, african, like a migrant worker, disabled, arab, and qatari

39. infantino saying he was oppressed as a child because he was ginger and italy is not safe for gingers

40. david alaba’s father in law getting arrested for being one the leaders of a far right group plotting to overthrow the german government

41. richarlison being tumblr’s it girl for a month and then not scoring a goal for the next four

42. juventus being in the middle of another corruption scandal and being docked points because of it

43. two teams getting investigated by the british government for playing football the weekend the queen died

44. gavi getting a yellow card in the first minute of a football match

45. pogba’s brother was arrested by french authorities for being part of a group-organized extortion attempt against pogba

46. richarlison getting a tattoo of neymar’s face and neymar paying him 30k to get it removed

47. iker casillas coming out, puyol implying they had a thing, and both of them retracting it in the most misha collins way possible.

48. sane and mane fight

49. zlatan retired from football

50. barca withholding about 50 million in wages from their players and somehow frenkie still didn’t want to join manchester united

[xe-n4]

slow starts

feat. sae note: i just needed some fluff (life is so hard 😢), unedited contains: fluff, possibly ooc total: 727

Before you opened your eyes, you felt his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Sae laced his fingers with yours and rubbed the back of your hand.

“Mornin’,” he said in his raspy morning voice.

“Shut up,” you groaned. Slowly opening an eye, the sun-illuminated curtains flooded your vision and brightened your bedroom. Mild irritation built within you before you eventually rolled over and pressed yourself against Sae.

He rolled his eyes before kissing your forehead. “It’s morning, y/n.” Sae reached over to the side table for his phone, trying not to jostle you too much. 11:17. He kissed his teeth at the frustration of sleeping in much later than he intended to, which explained why he felt so groggy.

“It’s eleven in the morning, y/n. We—”

“All the more reason to stay in bed.” You placed a finger to his lips. “Stop talking so I can go back to sleep,” you whispered.

“You’ll have to get up eventually.”

You didn’t respond, ignoring everything Sae said to capture any remnants of sleep you had left.

Sae scoffed but relaxed into you. He didn’t want to admit it but felt nice to finally not have to get up at five every morning to train. His muscles weren’t screaming in exhaustion, and he could finally recharge his social battery. The stress of travelling the world for the last 4 months had gotten the best of him. Constant training, games, and interviews, rinse and repeat.

Sae sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe you were right, this is the perfect excuse to lie in even if it was for an extra hour before he forced himself to become human again.

That is until the sound of your stomach growling cut through the air like a hot knife to butter.

“Hey Sae?”

He hummed without opening his eyes.

“I think you might be hungry. And I also think you should make us breakfast.”

“What? That wasn’t me—”

“Oh, you should definitely make waffles,” you sighed, almost salivating at the thought.

“We don’t have a waffle iron.” Sae began to shuffle to the edge of the bed to put his slippers on. “I’ll make pancakes—he stood up—and you’re helping me.”

Before you registered what he’d said, Sae had already thrown you over his shoulder and was carrying you to the kitchen. He put you down and instructed that you get the ingredients from the fridge while he got everything else.

Cooking with Sae was like working a well operated machine. He’d set up stations around the kitchen to avoid bumping into each other, but he just had an air of authority about him, especially when he was concentrating.

After mixing together the pancake batter, you watched his piercing green eyes as they focused on the task at hand, flipping the pancakes. It may not seem like serious business but Sae liked his pancakes to be even on both sides. He was always very proud of himself when he’d manage to pull it off, walking around with a smug smile until his inflated ego was ultimately burst by the fact that pancakes were meant to be eaten, not hung as trophies.

You cleaned up while Sae set the table, bringing out the extortionately expensive maple syrup you only used for special occasions, such as Saturday mornings. It’s Thursday.

When you sat down at the table, you questioned him about it.

“What? I can’t treat my girl?”

You raised an eyebrow before digging in. “Thish ish sho good,” you said with your mouth full.

“Are they? Maybe we should start a business. Pancake restaurant? It’s a very unique idea”

“Shut up and answer my question.”

Sae put down his utensils and cleared his throat which made your ears perk up. “I’m thinking of taking a break from football…not for long, just for a season.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” You leaned back into your seat. “I thought you were gonna tell me something crazy.”

“But this is important, it affects you too.”

“I know, but I also know you’ve been stressed—you put your hand over his—take care of yourself before you start thinking about anyone else, okay?”

He nodded while pressing his lips together in disgust.

Your brows raised in confusion.

Sae gently lifted your hand off of his. “You’re sticky.”

You scoffed before rolling your eyes and continuing your breakfast.

m.list | like & reblog

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

[yuzurins]

# TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH . . .

an itoshi rin social media au by yuzurins

ღ synopsis — all you wanted was a peaceful and productive uni life, but despite your pleas, your plans start crumbling when the star of the football team, itoshi rin, begins to beat you in every aspect possible. as you confront the inevitable, what happens when you uncover secrets behind an unforgettable event from the past?

pairing ∗ itoshi rin x f!reader (she/they)

genre ∗ social media au, academic rivals to lovers, university au, fluff + contains angst, slow burn, drama, crack disclaimers ∗ timestamps don’t rlly matter (unless stated), crude language, cringe attempt at humour, mentions of alcohol, kms/kys jokes, pictures used in icons and posts are not mine you — light mode ∗ rin — dark mode

status ∗ ongoing (08/20/23) no set schedule

profiles

# our big family ❤️ | # ut football exclusives

chapters (❀ -> written portion)

i. have we met before

∗ 01 — it’s unfair

∗ 02 — why does it matter

∗ 03 — life isn't real

∗ 04 — strangers with memories (❀)

∗ 05 — neighbours?

∗ 06 — worst luck (❀)

∗ 07 — you're being jealous (❀)

∗ 08 — dense

∗ 09 — arts project

∗ 10 — rin (1) has joined!

∗ 11 — a small world, after all

∗ 12 — meeting, number three? (❀)

∗ 13 — favour from a hater

∗ 14 — missing

∗ 15 — meet me at the fair

∗ 16 — a predicament

∗ 17 — unwaivering

∗ 18 — (not) group study sessions

∗ 19 — wingman

∗ 20 — "i don't get sick"

ii. the story of us

∗ 21 — sweethearts

∗ 22 — welcome, manager!

∗ 23 — he's obnoxious

∗ 24 — a flirt?

∗ 25 — skill issue!

∗ 26 — accident

∗ 27 — it's too late

∗ 28 — drifting

∗ 29 — i don't get it

∗ 30 — can we talk

iii. for lovers who hesitate

∗ 31 — aftermath

more chapters tba!

notes ∗ my first smau :0 thank u sm to souta, ei, rika and xue for helping me and making me feel validated when making decisions :’) inspired by @idlerin + @tobiosmilktea !! check them out cuz their smaus are super fun to read <3 updates may be irregular once i get back to school but i’m excited to go on this journey ^_^ thank you for reading !!

taglist ∗ currently open! send an ask or comment below to be added or removed :)

© yuzurins '23-24 ღ do not plagiarize, change, translate or repost my works on any other platform.

[milaisreading]

BLUE LOCK MASTERLIST

New masterlist since the old one had to be deleted. If someone could help me retrieve the links to some of my stories, I would be very greatful

Requests and rules

Hetalia masterlist

Get to know me

Crossdresser!Yn masterlist

Christmas special BLLK

World 5 masterlist

1. Yandere!Sae Itoshi x Reader (Halloween special 🎃)

2. Plushie incident in the morning

3. Random Blue Lock headcanons

4. Random Blue Lock scenarios pt1 / Random Blue Lock scenarios pt2

5. Blue lock characters as simps

6. Manager has a crush

7. A sick Reo

8. Manager meets the other players

9. A day off (Post U-20)

10. Manager goes away for 3 weeks / Manager goes away for 3 weeks pt2

11. Jersey numbers dilemma

12. Manager Yn and Ego's shenanigans

13. Kaiser, Ness, Oliver, and Sae

14. A family's misunderstanding

15. The manager has a type?! / The manager has a type?! Pt2

16. Fights over a jacket

17. Bus seat

18. A manager who needs football instructors

19. Of arguments and kiss-cams

20. Out on a date

21. Fan service

22. A creepy fan

23. Keychains

24. Yn merch

25. Caught in the middle (ReoxYnxNagi)

26. Misunderstandings (Itoshi Sae x Yn)

27. Toddler-sized manager?!

28. Manager Yn at Hakuho High

29. Baby Niko!!

30. Jersey issues (KaiserxYnxNess)

31. Toddler Kaiser

32. Of fake rumors and... dates?

33. Toddler Ness / Toddler Ness pt2

34. Since when are we engaged?! (Itoshi Sae x Yn)

35. Japan U-20 toddlers

36. It's our girlfriend (Bachira Meguru x Yn)

37. A bad day for the manager

38. Manager Yn being a fangirl

39. Shidou's girlfriend?!

40. Amnesia

41. Manager out and about with Oliver Aiku

42. Exes

43. Who is Toddler manager's favorite?!

44. Shark boy in lover (Kurona Ranze x Yn)

45. Celebratory date (Karasu Tabito x Yn)

46. Blue Lock 11 kindergarten

47. Overworked manager

48. That's my brother...

49. Toddler manager learned a new word... /

Toddler manager learned a new word... pt2

50. Toddler manager's day with Lorenzo

51. Some words of encouragement

52. Yandere Kainess

53. When Itoshi Sae visited Blue Lock

54. The clumsy and the simp

55. Another Yandere!Kainess

56. Meet the family

57. A jealous Sae

58. A week away (ft. World 5)

59. Toddler shenanigans

60. Meet the boyfriend (Leonardo Luna x Itoshi!Reader)

61. Sae the guard dog (Sae Itoshi x Isagi sister!Reader)

62. Misunderstandings and confessions (Sae Itoshi x Isagi sister!Reader)

63. 5th times the charm? (Valentine's Day special. Sae Itoshi x Isagi's sister!Reader)

64. Valentine's Day special! (Manager!Yn x Blue Lock/Japan U-20)

65. She likes a boy? (Fem!Sae Itoshi x Isagi's sister!Reader)

66. Sae and Yn as toddlers (Isagi's sister!Yn AU)

67. Wedding day (Isagi's sister!Yn x Sae)

68. Isaness fanfic

[hi18364]

Mama mom and auntie Caitlin

 

 My mom has been acting weird; they have been fighting a lot. Mom has been staying with Auntie Shebahn for the past 2 days, and Auntie Caitlin has been over a lot. 

 

I have asked Mama what has happened, but she won't tell me. I'm not Ruesha and Katie's biological daughter. I was at the Arsenal U10s program, and Katie had an interest in me because I was apparently a good player. I was put up for adoption when I was 3 days old, but the adoption never went through, and I was placed in foster care. 

 

I'm now 17, and I play on the Arsenal senior team. I play as a striker and defender. I'm currently sitting on a chair. I knew what my mama wanted to tell me, but I didn't want it to be true. I was snapped out of my thoughts by Mama talking, "y/n, I need to tell you something because you need to know... me and Ru." I know what's about to come out of her mouth. 

 

It was like slow motion: "We have decided to break up, "I just staired at her, "Did you cheat on her with Caitlin?" A look of guilt goes over her face. " "I-" . I get up and walk out of the room. A few of the girls were standing there. Caitlin was one of them. She reaches out to stop me from going. The rest of the girls look confused. "Get the fuck off me. Why the fuck did you do it?" I get out of her grip and go to the car. and drive off. I drive to the London City Lionesses trying ground, and I park. I can see everyone on the pitch; they are in practice. I sit for 10 minutes, then get out and go in. They know me because I've been there before. 

 

I knock on the door to see if anyone is in there. When I don't get an answer, I go out to the pitch, and the boss sees me. I stand off to the side. She comes and stands next to me. She looks at me with sad eyes, telling me she knows why I'm hearing "Hey, sorry, I don't know why, to be honest." 

 

"It's all good. I guess you know now." 

I look at the players on the pitch and say, "What I'm meant to do, I can't look at them without feeling betrayed; she was my aunt.". 

 

Time skip: 3 weeks later 

 

Not a lot has happened except the fact that I've stopped talking to everyone. I'm now staying with Viv Beth and sometimes mom, but mostly Viv and Beth. I don't want to be at Arsenal anymore, so I've decided to have a meeting with the managers and other people to see what I can do to get out of here, even if that means I have to go to the USA. If I want to get out of here, I need to. 

 

It's like I'm suffocating while staying here. 

 

After the meeting (I can't be bothered to write it), 

 

So that was eventful for the first part of the meeting. They did want to let me go, but in the end, after I said I would quit football, they decided to lone me out to Gotham; it's a team in the USA. 

 

I don't really want to leave mom, and to be honest, I don't really want to leave mama, but I need a new start and a fresh slate. I want to go and be able to breathe. Maybe mom will follow me to the USA. I don't think Mama would, and to be honest, I haven't talked to Mama. I'm still angry at her, but she's still my Mama, and I still love her. 

 

It's been three weeks since we made the deal with Gotham. I have yet to tell anyone I need to tell them because in two days it's the end of the season. Then it's the World Cup, so I need to tell them today, but I don't know how to tell them. 

 

I'm sitting on the pitch, and a bunch of the girls next to me are all talking about the next game. the World Cup and the new signings that will happen Leah was talking about people transferring, and everybody was saying who they thought would go where. 

 

I say in a hushed tone, "I'm going to Gotham." I guess it wasn't quite, and Beth said loudly, "You're moving to Gotham!" 

————————————————————————————

There is a part two but I’ve not finished it it’s not my best work but I’ve got a few more from another app that I think I might post here the alexia one will be out when I write it which  will probably be soon

[dearly-somber]

20/20 Vision | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, mutual pining, unrequited love, drama, high school!au, university!au, eventual romance, eventual smut

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 897

-> warnings. Literally nothing this is pure fluff 🥹🤍

-> a/n. Glasses!Kook origin story!! Y/N lore drop!! (P.S. This takes place before Because It’s Soft!)

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Dec. 9th, 2023 @ 10:03

-> fin. Sun., Jan. 28th, 2024 @ 12:31

-> edited. Thurs., Feb. 1st, 2024 @ 17:44

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

You knew something was up when Jungkook—a boy who’d once spotted a squirrel in the road while driving at nearly 100kph—started squinting at the projector not even five meters in front of him.

Even though the two of you sat around the middle of your class, you’d frequently turn to find him angrily squinting at the board, struggling to read your smaller than average handwriting even though he’d never found it difficult before.

Now, sitting in your living room with homework strewn all along the floors and Jungkook nose deep his English textbook, you finally come to the conclusion that his vision might not be so 20/20 anymore.

“Jungkook,” you say concerned as he lets out a frustrated sigh, sitting upright with a frown etched deeply into his face.

“I can’t see,” he complains, groaning and rubbing at his temples. “And my head feels like it’s about to explode.”

You reach out to run your hand through his hair, biting on your lip when he unhesitatingly leans into the touch. “You can’t see?”

“No,” he pouts. “Everything’s blurry.”

“Jungkook.” You rub at his earlobe once before pulling away, searching his face with a pitying smile. “The font isn’t that small—I can read it just fine from where I’m sitting.”

He manages to look offended. “Okay. And?”

You sigh, placing your hand over his, like you’re about to deliver some bad news. For someone so smart, he can be so dumb. “I think you should see an optometrist.”

His doe eyes widen. “No,” he whispers, genuinely afraid-sounding.

You smile apologetically and pat his hand.

He pulls away from you to press the palms of his hands into his eyes, fake-crying into them like the drama-queen he is. “Fuck,” he whines.

You push up from the kitchen table and walk around to massage his shoulders, as if he’s a football player getting hyped up before his next big game. “It’s okay,” you soothe.

“I need glasses?” He sounds so sad, you can’t help but laugh a little.

“It’s not the end of the world!” you laugh. “Besides, I think it’ll suit you.“

“But what about soccer? I can’t play with glasses, they’ll get broken, or, or—“

“Contacts are a thing, remember?”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Now, a couple of days later, you knock on the packhouse doors with an eager smile, greeting Jimin with a long hug. “Is Jungkook home yet?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks!”

The way to Jungkook’s room is a familiar one. As soon as you enter the pack house you turn right and head a single flight of stairs to the second floor where all the rooms and main bathrooms are. What is new, is all the various pictures hanging on the wall.

You take a moment to admire the new frames you assume either Seokjin or Rosé hung up between today and the last time you were here (around three days ago, now), smiling fondly at the closeness and joy in each picture.

It’s a large 24x48 canvas framed in a beautiful burgundy wood with golden highlights (which seem to have been painted on by hand), and it makes your heart stop.

It’s of a photo you took with the pack a few days after your birthday.

Your heart aches sweetly at the sight of Yoongi with his arms wrapped brotherly around your shoulders, free arm hoisting his whiskey into the air, a large grin on his face. Next to him is Jungkook, both hands in the air, yelling at the top of his lungs with one of those bottled glasses of coke. And around you, the rest of the pack.

Rosé and Jennie crouched beneath you, forming hearts with their arms on either side of your legs; Jisoo, Hoseok, Jin and Taehyung laughing at their brothers off to the side; Lisa yelling at the top of her lungs while being carried bridal style by Namjoon; Jimin on the floor at Rosé and Jennie’s feet, slightly blurred around the edges from setting up the camera.

It was the best night of your life.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” You look at Jungkook with a smile on your face, which quickly turns into an appreciative grin. “Why, look at you!”

Jungkook laughs shyly, reaching up to self-consciously push his glasses further up his nose. It’s a simple frame: black metal, kind of large but not overly so, a little boxy.

“It looks good!” you say as you finally make your way up the stairs, giving him a quick side hug before making your way to his room.

“You think so?” He holds the door open for you and then lets it slide halfway closed, joining you on the edge of his bed where you’ve already taken up one of his controllers.

“Definitely. Really frames your face.”

He groans. “Not you, too. Jin hyung’s been making glasses jokes all day.”

You laugh, nudging him in his side while starting up It Takes Two (a game you’d asked him to get so you could play together). “I would too, Four Eyes.”

He growls, not even giving you time to think before his hands are at your sides.

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Downstairs, Jimin shakes his head at your loud pleas for mercy and defeating scream-laughter with a fond smile, handing Jin another plate to dry off. “I wish those two would get together already.”

“Patience,” Seokjin chides with an equally fond grin. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

[yooils]

RUIN MY PLANS ! sae itoshi x manager! reader. fluff.

☆彡– really, he should have known better than to let someone in so easily– now you've ruined his plans and stained your muddy footprints all over his heart.

part two is out now!

even in the beginning, it was always just sae and soccer.

(wrong. there was also rin– who used to idolized him as one would a celebrity, and his supportive parents– who sent him snacks and supportive notes when he was abroad.)

nevertheless, there really was no one in the small world of sae itoshi; hidden beneath the bitter guise of frigid thunder and even icier storms– until you first came in as his own brand new manager, (slightly naive) smile differing strikingly from his indifferent countenance.

you've unsolicitedly trampled all over his once-tranquil paradise over the years, sae thinks, because now he can't imagine a future without you– it makes his skin crawl and it feels sickening. how mediocre of him.

and just as sae starts to slowly accept the unfamiliar whirlwind of emotions in his life after denying his feelings for so long, his fragile world collapses again.

"i'm going to resign soon."

oh.

sae's heart sinks to his stomach. he feels like his whole world is falling apart– just like in the movies– and he's infuriated. resentment always came easily to sae, after all; but the fact that it's you makes his stomach churn.

(you, who unexpectedly won a place in his life with your lukewarm anecdotes, stupid laughter and reckless work habits. really, he should have known better than to let someone in so easily– now you've ruined his plans and stained your muddy footprints all over his heart.)

the soft music thrumming through the speakers of an expensive restaurant fuels his rage even more, and you're still sitting there nonchalantly– calm and composed, expression showing no signs of discomfort nor awkwardness.

and it really pisses him off.

he's treated you so well over the years too; trying to be on his best behaviour on his interviews with the press (read: not walking off); listening half-heartedly to your ramblings on how to increase his popularity (though he couldn't care less); and even going so far as to mind his language sometimes.

upon further reflection, maybe he really was the jerk here.

but in contrast to his internal turmoil, sae's demeanour remains tepid save for the slight furrow of his eyebrows. "huh? what's wrong with you?"

it comes out a lot harsher than intended.

you've known sae long enough to read his minuscule body language, and that the slight wince at his own words mean that he's a little apologetic– not that his ego would have ever allowed him to admit it. (if anything, it makes you realise that you've stayed in this job too long for your liking.)

–it's absolutely unhealthy to be around him for so long, you affirm to yourself. that's why you're resigning after six gruelling years.

the way you shift in your chair almost makes him worry.

"it's nothing big, i just want to start a normal life." you respond, albeit tentatively. "maybe cut off travelling around for a bit, have a less stressful job, get a partner–"

he scoffs at that. (it's not due to jealousy, definitely.) "you could do that even while being a manager; it's just a little busier than a normal life. plus, it's not too stressful, is it?"

you work more than 17 hours on busy days– even answering his spur of the moment midnight calls. as much as an eye candy as sae is, you don't think your heart can handle him much longer despite how unaffected you look.

(little did you know, he would've long cut back on the immense workload if you had so much as mentioned it– he would have gone beyond limits to keep you by his side, because you're the only constant in his world of football. and he likes that.)

"i suppose so– i guess settling back into Japan might make dating a lot easier, as well as stop my parent's nagging." you sigh. "they're constantly pestering me on when i'll get married."

sae's had his share of flings in europe before– so he has no idea why his heart races so fast at the mere thought of a reckless idea.

"so date me."

you choke. his face stays stoic, utterly contradicting to the way he swallows thickly– he really is a mess. now he's ruined every single healthy relationship he's ever had in his life.

and never in your life did you think you would get to hear sae itoshi ask you out, even if it was just for his own benefit. "it won't hinder with your work, and it'll be easy to convince your parents, won't it?"

you hate how persuasive he is.

(that night, you end up making a decision that might just cost you more than your sappy feelings.)

1.8.23

[cinnnamongrl]

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 2)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: part 2 to this fic.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, suggestive themes/language, kissing (gasp) [this series will contain smut later on- warnings will be listed accordingly]

author’s note: part two everybody clap. this is a little shorter but part 3 will make up for it .. wink wink. have fun and lmk all ur thoughts<33

was ellie delusional? was she a complete idiot for thinking there was something sapphic that was occurring between the two of you? did she dream up the flirting, the glances at her hands and quickened heartbeat visible through your dress when her face was close to yours? she didn’t know. all she knew was she had been tied up in too many situations where she’d misread signals and falsely assumed a girl was queer and interested to then find out she was straight, or involved with a guy. and fuck going through that again. so she decided to distance herself. luckily for her, there hadn’t been any mandatory eta meets lately and you didn’t share any classes together. her plan to leave you alone and let you pursue this chad guy was going perfectly.

you felt like shit. you felt like the worlds biggest asshole for telling everyone you had a crush on a guy 3 minutes after ellie’s mouth was a few inches from yours, and not even talking to her after to maybe explain that, hey, i don’t even know who chad is. i was just being a pussy. now can we go back to where you were pressed up against me in the bathroom? another fun consequence of your lie was now having to pretend you knew who chad peters was when your sorority sisters would prod you for details on your big crush on him. you’d managed to work out through their giggly discussions that he was:

1. tall.

2. well endowed. (lucky you!)

3. a football player.

4. president of kappa upsilon sigma fraternity. the same fraternity your dad had been a part of.

fuck chad peters for existing and being the reason ellie wasn’t talking to you anymore.

you laid on your bed with yours and ellie’s chat open on your phone. your heard swirled with different excuses to use to text her, trying to silence your pride. it was your fault she was avoiding you anyway, you’d embarrassed her and hadn’t even followed up with an apology, instead you let your parent’s ideals and the pressure you put on yourself mess with your head.

fuck this.

she didn’t tell you to fuck off so you considered that a win. it had been 17 minutes since you sent the last text, so you assumed the conversation was over. still, you picked up your phone every few minutes to check she hadn’t texted again. it was a natural place for the conversation to end, but… what if she was still upset with you? you threw your head dramatically into your pillow like a woman scorned.

curse your stupid love heart hand emojis, ellie thought. she tried to be chill and think about important things like the next paragraph on her text book, or replying to a text from emilia about some eta thing, or doing something about the clothes pile on her floor from 2 weeks ago. but she was sat in her desk chair analysing your emojis. which made her think about you. which made her think about the little eyebrow scrunch you did when you pretended to be annoyed with her, which made her think about your chest almost pressing into hers in the bathroom, which made her think about your neck, how it might look with-

KNOCK KNOCK

ellie scanned her room, kicked the pile of clothes into the corner, adjusted the hood of her grey hoodie and walked to the door. she opened it and was met with you, looking slightly awkward but in an (annoyingly) endearing way. she looked down at your hands. a box of capri-suns. a laugh escaped her throat. “hi” your voice a little unsure. “listen i know you’re studying i just thought i’d bring this to you it’s a joke because we talked about capri-suns sorry i’ll go i just thought it would be funny but i’m probably disturbing you so i’ll see you soon maybe y’know because of e-“ “come in” she cut you off.

you took in a breath and tentatively walked past her outstretched hand. you stood in the middle of her room, still processing that you’d asked ellie’s step sister to tell you where her dorm room was like a creep and then ran there to give her a gift from a stupid inside joke. “i’ll leave in a minute i just,” you thought for a second. you just what? you pointed a weak hand at the box of capri-suns in your other hand. she smiled slightly “i see. thank you.” she took the box from your hand and started to rip it open as she sat down in her desk chair. you watched her for a few seconds before a brightly coloured pouch came flying at you, your instincts managing to kick in at the last minute so your hand could shoot out and clutch it against your torso, an action that lacked any hint of grace. ellie was visibly holding in a laugh as she pierced the tiny straw through her own drink. “don’t laugh! you didn’t give me any warning!” you blurted. “ok this is your warning. i’m going to throw a capri-sun at you.” not even half a second later another flash of colour shot towards you and you held you hand up in front of your face in protection. the pouch hit the floor with a gentle thud and you picked it up and stared at ellie who was now openly snickering at you. “you’re” you aimed it at her stomach “a dick” SMACK.

“ow!” she held the drink to her and looked up at you in disbelief before standing to her feet, eyes on you. a little jump of playful fear zapped through you and she grabbed a handful of capri-suns out the box and one after the other threw them towards you, no real force behind the throws. you backed away giggling until the backs of your knees met her bed and you fell back onto it. ellie didn’t let up her attack and continued walking towards you, fourth capri-sun hitting your shoulder a little harder than she’d anticipated. you clutched it theatrically and turned away from her, face pressed into her bed and keeping your body balled up like you’d been shot. a wave of panic went through ellie at the thought of accidentally hurting you. she placed herself next to you on the bed and put her hand on your back nervously “hey are you..” “HA” you lifted suddenly and held her body down onto the bed with your leg and repeatedly hit the capri-sun onto her arm, laughing at your own genius. ‘hey hey hey’ ellie spoke through her laughter and grabbed a hold of your arms, successfully pacifying you.

she looked at the sight of you above her, grinning, your chest rising and falling quickly. the memory of your truth or dare confession struck her. she let go of your arms and cleared her throat, sitting up slightly, making you remove your leg from her. you noticed her switch and before your brain could have an input your mouth got there first;

“i don’t like that guy.” you babbled. ellie stared at you. “what?” “that guy. chad. i didn’t even know a chad, it was the first name that came to mind.” “wh-“ she blinked a few times “what are you saying?” you adjusted yourself so you were sat on your knees. “i made up a fake crush when emilia asked because i got scared.” ellie frowned, “scared of what?” “you.” a short laugh escaped her, the confusion obvious on her features. “me?” “yes, scared of you and…” “and what?” her eyes were still fixed on you and it took great effort to stop yourself from doting upon her freckles and her pretty lips “..the way you make me feel.” you looked down. ellie’s tone changed, there was a depth to her voice. “and how’s that?” your eyes remained focused in on a crease in her sheets. “like..” “hey, look at me.” she raised your chin with her index finger. you complied. and she wanted to hear you talk but god did she also want to kiss you right now.

“..fuzzy. and all hot and nervous and i haven’t stopped thinking about you since i met you which is stupid and scary and-” and then her lips were on yours, it was soft and sweet and it gave you butterflies. it was delicate and gentle and tender, until it wasn’t. until it was deepening, her tongue was meeting yours and you had butterflies in a whole new way. her hand found your face and she cupped your jaw while the other made it’s way to the back of your neck, the intensity of both her hands holding you making your head spin a little. she kissed you with all the desperation of a man starved and yet all the technique that made it seem like she already knew exactly what your body wanted from her.

feeling suddenly restricted in the sitting position on your knees you leaned into the kiss and placed your hands either side of her, lifting your ass from your legs and leaning into her on all fours, mouth not leaving hers. ellie felt your body shift and broke away from you, noticing your new position. “you.. can’t do that” she let out breathlessly. “d-do what?” you were suddenly hyper aware of your body, realising that you probably did look a little pathetic in near-enough doggy position while you’re kissing for the first time. “because i want to be respectful,” she calmed her breathing slightly “but the way you look now is making me have not so respectful thoughts” your face heated and let out a shy giggle. “..sorry.” the corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. you continued “but uh… you don’t have to be respectful… if you don’t want.” you looked up at her and absentmindedly brought your bottom lip to chew on at your nervous attempt at playful seduction. ellie looked down at your mouth and within the beat she’d captured it with her own, kissing you hard again and hands stoking up your arms that were still held up on her bed.

part 3

taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @girlfr1endism

[misanocircuit]

I found a Max Verstappen interview in a school diary (Smemoranda 2016/2017 - interview by Arianna Ravelli; pic & translation by me!)

Translation [Italian-English]:

Believe in yourself [title]

Interviewer: Max Verstappen, your father Jos is a former F1 driver, your mother Sophie a karting champion: you had no choice, you could only become a driver?

M.V.: I chose it, but with a family like mine it was quite obvious that I would have done something in racing... I also tried with football, but it's not for me. If I didn't manage to become a F1 driver, I would have still found myself behind a wheel.

Interviewer: At 17 you didn't have a driving license yet and you already raced in F1 with Toro Rosso convincing everyone. They say you're a predestined and that you'll win a Championship, sooner or later.

M.V.: Easy/slow down. At the moment I do what I want, I'm very happy and I wouldn't change anything of what I have and am.

Interviewer: You travel around the world, earn well, meet famous people: is a F1 driver's life a dream one?

M.V.: Yes, I travel around the world, but I don't get to see the places where I am. I meet famous people, but that's not what I'm interested in: as every driver I'm only focused on going as fast as possible.

Interviewer: You've spent all your life on track, starting very young with karting: did you manage to continue your studies?

M.V.: It was really hard, at a certain point I had to make a decision and I chose racing: it was a gamble. My favourite subjects are History and Geography. However I'm sure that studying also help improving your performance inside the car.

Interviewer: You're not exactly a typical teenager like others: have you ever argued with your parents to earn more freedom?

M.V.: No, really. My parents always gave me enough freedom, but I always know what I'm allowed to do and how I have to behave, if for example I go to a party and the next day I have to work. So freedom, but always in full control.

Interviewer: Last time that you felt free?

M.V.: When I hang out with my friends and challenge each other with go-karts, just for the sake of having fun.

Interviewer: An advice for other teenagers?

M.V.: Believe in yourself and work hard, because nothing is easy. But above everything else believe in yourself and follow your way.

</end>

[barcalover86]

The unheard story.

A never-ending friendship.

Chapter One

"Sweet 18, love!" your mom smiled at you seeing the clock hitting midnight.

"Thank you."

You went to hug your parents and little sister tight, feeling more emotional than you would have wanted to.

You couldn't lie, you were scared.. really scared to turn this age. It wasn't much different than 5 minutes ago when you were still 17, but it felt like right now it was more pressure on your shoulders.

You weren't a kid anymore.

You are now an adult who has to manage things on her own and be able to overcome any challenge life will subject you to.

You were an independent girl even since you were little, so having to do things alone wasn't a big problem for you. It's just the pressure to disappoint your family that affects you badly.

On the other side, turning 18 had its goods.

Tomorrow you'll travel with your best friend, Bia, to your most beloved city. Barcelona.

Since you were kids, you two were big fans of football, going to every game you could attend to. Of course, it wasn't the same to be on a small stadion like the one from your town, or to be on Camp Nou.

You could imagine how much of a big difference it would be.

And you couldn't be more excited that now you will be able to make a dream come true. Just like you and Bia planed for years.

Travelling to Barcelona.. just the two of you.

..................................................................................

You absolutely hated to wake up early in the morning, especially when last night you didn't have a great sleep.

All kinds of nerves were starting to be fueled in your body because of how nervous you were.

But before you entered the plane, you promised yourself that this journey would have to be memorable.

"Are you ready to begin a new chapter, birthday girl?" Bia asked you with the biggest smile on her face.

"I think I am." you replied, taking her hand in yours.

Now.. let's be for real. Summer in Barcelona doesn't sound that bad. Right?

..................................................................................

The day you arrived in Spain was a really hot one, so you couldn't do much, but to stay inside your hotel room until the night will come.

Now come one, you expected to have a hot summer in Barcelona, but you didn't imagine that 45° C were even possible.

And of course, you didn't check the weather before. You always forget to do that.

You were chatting in your hotel room until you started to be hungry. You couldn't eat in the building, because you decided to book something that had no lunch, so that you could enjoy your visiting more, but now all you could do was go outside to grab something, because you were starving.

After minutes of choosing an outfit, you and Bia arrived into the new world.

A lot of people were walking outside like the weather was perfect, and you were so shocked by that. They must really hate cold, then.

After walking for some minutes, you decided to go to a terrace to eat a pizza.

"So, it's still available that tomorrow we go watch the game?" Bia asked you, and you instantly nodded.

"Where do you want to book the tickets? Sector A, or no. I've heard that many people recommend Sector H."

"Bia.. what about we go to the VIP Section?"

"What? Do you know how expansive it is? 1200-1300 euros per person! We will go outside of our budget, y/n!"

You look down.

"Look, it's our first game at Camp Nou. Let's make it special. Money come and go, but experiencing a Barca game for the first time right at the vip section is unforgettable. We'll manage to get the money back, but please, Bia.."

She thinks for a second, before she agrees.

"Ok, maybe you're right."

"Thank you!!" you hugged her, being really excited. "You won't regret it."

..................................................................................

The day has come, and even if there were 7 more hours until the game begins, you two started to get ready.

Taking a shower, doing your hair and makeup, and, of course, choosing the best outfit.

You didn't have an original Barca jersey, but when you were 15, your best friend made two white hoodies with a big Barca sign on its left.

Maybe it was cheap, but you loved it!

So, as an outfit, you chose the hoodie, with nothing underneath because it was really hot outside, and some black jeans.

As shoose, your favourite white nikes.

With a simple makeup and your natural straight hair, you were ready to attempt the game.

"I'm so excited, you have no idea."

"Me too, I can't believe that- wait."

She looks at you confused.

"What?"

"If we're standing at the vip section, it means that cameras will also be on us."

"Oh. We'll be famous then!" Bia laughs.

..................................................................................

Everyone was pushing everyone, and it was really hard to walk through the crowd, so you had to take your best friend's hand so you could stay together.

As a vip culer, you could enter camp nou more easily, but of course, you had to take a lot of pictures, especially since the sunset was luminating your faces so well. You were truly beautiful.

When you stepped into the stadium.. man.. it was more beautiful than you ever dreamed of.

"Bia, we have to take a lot of photos!!!! It's so pretty out here!"

Your best friend was out of words. Finally, you got to see Barca play live together. It was all you ever wished for.

You were so happy that you started to jump around and to sing the anthem, without realising that the players were coming to warm up already.

All of them looked at how happy you were, and even some of them chuckled at your excitement.

"We have to enjoy our time here, y/n. Who knows when we'll be here again."

You started to laugh hard at how silly you two were acting.

"Look, that's Fermin!!!! Sexy boy!"

"Shhh, someone might hear you, Bia!!"

"Who cares??"

"Me?? You're embarrassing ourselves!" you started to laugh again.

"Look, y/n!! Your boy, Gavi." she said like she didn't listen to me at all.

"Where?"

"Right next to Lewandowski, at his right. He has the ball on his head."

You look carefully, searching for the footballers, and when you see Pablo Gavi, you immediately blush.

"Look who's got all red." she started to tease you, which she loved to do so.

When the players went off the field, you looked at Gavi to see that he was having some nerves.

When they came back 5 minutes later, you shouted loudly, "Good luck, boys. I know you can do it!"

Every player looked up to see you, and they all smiled at you and some of them like Balde and Araujo, even waved at you.

But your eyes were only fixed on Gavi's. And not to be delusional, but you kinda saw that he smiled at you.

The game versus Mallorca began and you all sat down to watch the boys play.

The atmosphere was purely amazing, and you felt like you belonged there. People cheering on Barca affected your mood a lot, and you started to feel much better and alive.

At first, you thought that Mallorca wasn't a big 'enemy' for Barcelona, but the game was so intense that you just couldn't get bored.

A lot of yellow cards were given to players from both teams, and even a player from Mallorca got a red one.

It was minute 90+3 when Cancelo scored the winning goal, and everyone was standing up, shouting happily.

"No way, I love you, Cancelo!!! My boyyy!" Bia started to laugh hard.

Oh, how happy everyone was.

In the end, the anthem began again, and now you started to sing like it was no tomorrow.

The players came close to you to sign people's jearsies and to take as well some photos for the fans.

"C'mon, let's go, y/n. I want a picture with Fermin too."

You laughed, but inside, you felt really nervous.

When Lewandowski came to you two, he smiled and took a picture.

"Thank you so much. Congratulations on the win." Bia said.

"Thank you for being here, culers. Do you want me to sign something for you? A jersey?"

"We don't have a jersey, but thank you." Bia also replied, because you were really shy now.

Lewa took his off and gave it to your best friend, which she happily accepted, before he asked for Gavi.

"Gavi, come here quick."

After signing some last shirts, the boy came to where you were standing, confused.

"Do you want a photo? Let me finish there first and I'll come, ok?"

"No, no, Gavi. Can you please give this girl your jersey. She doesn't have one, and I already gifted mine."

He looks at you and smiled.

"What's your name?"

"Y/n."

"Ok, y/n. I remember you from the beginning of the game when you wished us good luck, so I hope this will also bring you luck." he said before taking his jersey off to give it to you.

You couldn't not stare at his beautiful body, and he saw that, asking you if you wanna take a photo together.

After you three took it, he signed his jersey, before freezing.

"Oh, wait. You'll have to wash it because it's all sweaty so I can't sign it for you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's ok."

"No, no. The next game will be on Wednesday. Wash it, and we'll meet here so that I can sign it for you. I'm suspended because of my yellow card today, so I will be just here. Is it ok for you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's ok." you replied too quick and he went back to sign some other shirts.

"Y/n!! Look, I'm really happy that you got his jersey, but we don't have the money to come here next game too!"

Bia was really frustrated, and you understood her. But it was your chance to talk again with Gavi.

"I know, Bia, but please! Just this time, and then we'll get the cheapest tickets after."

"Y/n, with this vip ticket we already spend the money for 1 week!"

"I am capable of no eating for 4 days.. please.."

She takes a second before she replies.

"Just because I love you."

You smile and hug her.

"Thank you so much, Bia. It means the world to me!"

[its-time-to-write]

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room. 

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end. 

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in. 

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers. 

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!” 

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation. 

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand. 

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly. 

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring. 

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone. 

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his. 

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again. 

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her. 

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them. 

[mrchiipchrome]

Mothers

W.C.- 3k

Your mother didn’t plan on having you at the young age of 15, but after spending 9 months inside your mother you came out a perfectly healthy baby in the year 2000. She had the support of her parents, your grandparents, the second she told them she was expecting and they helped her raise you.

They took care of you while she was away in school and they helped drop you off at numerous football practices and games. You were there for your mothers graduation from secondary school when you were 3, and then later for when she got her undergraduate degree in nursing. When you were 16, she got her license and could officially begin her practice in the intensive care unit.

Nobody was prouder than you when she got it and you made sure that everybody knew that your mother, the one that had you at 15 had become a doctor.

Still, despite her intensive job she made sure to come and see you play at least once a month, to bring you to practice the days she wasn’t called in and to make sure that she told you that she loved no one like she loved you. When you started to play in the boys teams, ‘cause there weren’t enough girls who wanted to play in your town, she supported you. Everytime you came home with scraped up knees or a sprained wrist, she took care of you like a mother as she joked about you being her first ever patient with how clumsy you are.

When your grandmother died, you were nearly 17 and on the cusp of breaking into the senior national team after having outplayed some of the older players in the U23 camp and playing in the first team for your club. Now everything you did was to make her as proud as you could, her last wish was for you to make the senior teams both club and country. And so when you were 17 years old both her wishes came true when you got selected into the England Euros squad, where you actually got to play some minutes in the group stages and then in the closing minutes of the knockout matches. In the end you got a bronze medal and 2 goals in your resume as a substitute.

At 18 you signed with Arsenal and at 19 you were picked for the World cup squad with starting minutes. Unfortunately, an elbow to the face in the USA game had you sitting out the bronze medal match against Sweden, your eye socket and nose fractured. You had seen how worried your mother looked in the stands as you went down, not just from a mother’s point of view but also a doctors . It looked gruesome. But the worst part, you could do nothing as your team was losing.

But through the experience of the incredible loss you grew stronger, the will to win overwhelmed the little voice in your head telling you that it wasn’t possible or that you couldn’t do it. So you continued to train and get better, all while getting mentored by the Arsenal women and winning award after award along the way.

And now at 23, you’re one of the most accomplished youngsters in women’s football after having won the Euros and the subsequent golden boot. And now there was no one prouder than your mother and grandfather. You knew your grandma was watching over your every move and cheering you on from wherever you go when you die.

Winning the Fifa Women’s best player for the 21/22-season, beating out your teammate and the legendary Alexia Putellas had you shell shocked mouth hanging open like an idiot. But when you went up to accept the award, you credited your grandparents and your mother for your success before thanking your coaches. Now that trophy is located on a shelf at your mothers house like most of your other trophies, the only one that lays at home in your apartment is the medal you got for the Euros win.

People hadn’t really noticed your mother before the closing game against Bayern, where she had gotten a leave of absence from her workplace. She was the first one you went to, nearly collapsing into her arms at the sidelines before returning to your teammates to celebrate. Fortunately, the Arsenal media team managed to capture the sweet moment between the mother and daughter, later posting it to TikTok where they captioned it ‘Like mother like daughter’.

Unbeknownst to you, the video went completely viral with thousands of people simping over your mother. You were much too busy to spend unnecessary time on social media, so you had not seen the people obsessing over your mother or the ones asking if your father could fight. That was before you went on international break, excited to finally meet your girlfriend again after a few weeks of only being able to communicate over the phone.

—-

Stepping out of the taxi, you come face to face with St George’s Park once again. You stand still for a couple of seconds before walking in through the entrance, immediately seeing a member of the media team with their fist up. You spud them before continuing your walk to the front desk where the names of your roommates stood.

Your eyes flit over the paper before you find your name scribbled beside Alessia’s and you do a silly dance in your place, happy that you could cuddle with your girl after weeks apart.

An arm slinging around your shoulder has you coming to your senses, looking to your right you see your girlfriend standing there. You pull her in by the waist as you lean your cheek on top of her head just taking a moment to hug her and relish in her company before everything becomes hectic. What you don’t plan on is one of your bestfriends slamming into you and making all three of you fall to the ground. You hear Ella start to speak loudly in your ear but you can’t focus on anything she’s saying, not with Alessia laying on top of you, her body fitting like a puzzle piece to your own.

Slapping a hand over Ella’s gaping mouth you take a moment to relax in the silence, already knowing that this camp was going to be like hell if it continued like that. Alessia puts her hands on either side of your body before pushing herself up to her feet.

She reaches her hand out towards you but before you are able to grab it, Tooney has. Alessia starts the motion of pulling her up, but as she shoots you a wink you know exactly what would occur. Alessia loosens her grip on Ella's hand before she has time to react, dropping her on her arse. The lobby explodes with laughter before you pull yourself up, walking up to your room before going to sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, Alessia joining you after a short time.

The next few days pass unnecessarily fast and before you know it you’re lining up next to Brazil, ready for the first ever women’s Finalissima. You dominated the first half going into halftime 1-0 up, and with your versatility giving you the ability to drive up the field and create chances while being able to also drop back down and help defend.

In the next half it seems like Brazil has woken up from their stupe and they start pressing in a way that has your defense scrambling and you realize that if you want to prevent Brazil from scoring you will have to help out more at the farther end of the field.

When the ball leaves the Brazilian players' feet, you know it is going into the goal and you can only pray for their penalties to not follow the same path.

You find yourself in an incredibly stressful situation as possibly the last penalty taker, it all depended on whether the ball hits the back of the net or not. Feeling strong hands place themselves on your back and a soft whisper of “You’ve got this” from your girlfriend has all your nerves washing away and your senses clear, the only focus on putting the ball in the back of the net.

Looking towards the crowd, you try to spot your mother and grandfather. When you catch sight of them you gain even more confidence as most people in the stadium couldn’t look on, your family just looked on with smirks and knowing looks on their faces.

You place the ball in the penalty spot, completely relaxed and calm despite having run around the pitch for a full 90 minutes plus stoppage time. The goalkeeper tries to distract you, jumping around and pointing at different parts of the net but you see the obvious dread in her face. You’re known for absolutely slamming the ball into the goal with an uncanny precision, especially penalties.

Kissing your fingers before pressing them into the shield resting above your heart, you start your runup. As you strike the ball with a power entirely your own you can feel how it’s going to hit the back of the net, it’s a feeling you’ve experienced many times before so many times that it’s become a staple of your matches.

The roaring of the fans confirm your thoughts and start running around the pitch all while expressing your delight through a loud yell echoing loud over the fans. Soon enough your teammates catch up to you and trap you in a tight embrace that you have no intention of escaping. As they start to depart from the team hug, Alessia and you remain in a tight embrace, covering your mouths when you speak to each other.

Whispers of ‘I love you so much’ and ‘I am so proud of you’ are exchanged before you are interrupted by a staff member informing you that the medal ceremony would take place in a short bit. You go and stand with your team as the shimmering medals are placed around your necks, walking towards the podium set up for you with a smile that could light up the entirety of Wembley.

Watching as Leah and Mary lift the trophy high above their heads has you feeling an immense sense of pride and joy. Proud to be part of this record breaking team.

As soon as you’re done with taking all the pictures needed featuring your medal, you’re off heading in the direction of your mother. Noticing the smile on her face, the one you inherited, has your feet moving faster in her direction. You grip the medal between sweaty fingers and pull it off, putting it around your mother’s neck.

“You’re the real champion here Ma. Thank you so much for being here today and supporting me, I love you” She replies with her own ‘I love you’, putting her fists up and doing your own celebration you made with her as a child by putting your own up and kissing them before double fistbumping her.

Staying with your family for a little longer, you depart from them to go and celebrate with your team. You barely reach your girlfriend before you’re whisked away for an interview with the broadcasting.

Putting on the headset and taking the mic from the staff, you hear the recognisable voice of Alex Scott flooding through your headphones.

“-And now we’re joined by the Euros and Finalissima winner, Y/n Y/l/n. How are you feeling after winning yet another trophy? I imagine you must feel quite ecstatic.”

“Spot on Alex, but yeah I am in disbelief honestly. Brazil were in form today and were incredible opponents. Yeah so this is an accomplishment we’re fortunate enough to experience.”

You spend the next few minutes speaking to the former player, talking about a large range of things before the topic of your mother comes up.

“I saw you were giving your medal to your mother earlier, is that something you always do?” Alex questions you.

“I usually give her all my medals and awards because I don’t have the space for them at my apartment. I've given her all but the Euros trophies as those are on a shelf in my bedroom. A reminder that I can do anything I set my mind to.” Your mother had always been the safekeep of your trophies, even as you reached adulthood she took care of them for you.

“Speaking of your mother, have you seen the comments circulating?”

Clear confusion lays over your face like a blanket, no clue about these ‘comments’ apparently regarding your mother.

“Comments? What comments?”

“You haven’t heard?! Oh boy you’re in for a ride.”

You can feel how whatever’s going to come out of her mouth next won’t be something you will enjoy hearing.

“Before you start, I feel like I won’t enjoy what you’ll say so before you continue I’ll need my emotional support human. Just a second.”

Sticking your fingers in your mouth and blowing, you let out a deafening wolf whistle loud enough to catch Alessia’s attention.

As Alessia turns towards you with her big blue doe eyes, you can’t help but practically melt under her affectionate gaze. Realizing that you are still on national television, you quickly wave her over.

When she stands beside you, the arm hanging by your side instinctively wraps around her waist in a protective grip. The same staff member that gave you your headphones hands Alessia a pair to be able to understand.

“Okay, so now that my emotional support human is here you are allowed to continue.”

Alessia smiles at the cheeky comment, the smile soon turning into a confused frown, not knowing the subject of conversation.

“I can see how you’re a bit confused there Alessia, so I’ll catch you up to speed. I was just asking Y/n if she had seen the comments under the Arsenal post, to which she said she hadn’t so I’m telling you both now.”

Judging by the mortified expression that crosses Alessia’s face you deduce that she most definitely knows exactly what comments Alex is talking about. You send her a skeptical look before telling Alex to start telling you about the comments.

“Arsenal posted a TikTok after the game against Bayern of you hugging your mother over the barrier. That video has gone viral, with thousands of people ‘simping’ over her in the comments.”

Even without hearing these comments you’re horrified, people hitting on your mother or thinking she was attractive wasn’t something new. It came with having a young mother but you’d never really been too bothered by them before. But now, knowing that thousands of people have the hots for your mother makes you want to crawl into bed and stay there until your last breath.

“Really?! My mother? That’s so weird on so many different levels bro…that’s just so weird and frankly quite gross. Don’t get me wrong, my mother is an incredible person, but knowing that thousands of people think that your mother is attractive is really unsettling. Now I’m curious about what they’ve said.”

Alessia nods along to your statement, knowing how much you struggled with seeing people on the internet thirsting for her and to now have people thirsting over your mom would make it worse.

“Ready? Okay, ‘Who was supposed to tell me that Y/n Y/l/n’s mom was such a MILF?’” Alex’s reading leaves you dry heaving as you quickly realize your mistake of wanting to hear the comments. Alessia pats your back in a ploy to comfort you all while holding back a giggle at your vivid reaction.

Continuing her assault on your ears, Alex recounts many different comments surrounding your mother and you have an equally vivid reaction to each one. Alessia keeps on rubbing your back in circles, though she can’t hold her laugh back anymore, the brilliant sound your only savior from the extreme embarrassment of the situation. Social media is already flooding with new memes of your reactions and you know that you’re going to be memed for the rest of your lifetime.

“Stop, stop! I tap out! No more. I love you Alex, but enough. Thank you for the interview, I’ll see you soon.”

You remove the headphones from your head and hand them and the microphone back to the staff before making your way back to the locker room, where it seems like people have already gotten a hold of the memes. Even Arsenal’s official page has plastered your reaction all over their social media.

When Alessia and you go and visit your mother a few weeks later, they’re both amused to realize your inability to look her in the eyes. Their apparent shared love for tormenting you makes your life a living hell over the next few hours and as you settle in your car to drive home you tell her,

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“No I’m not” She replies through a smug smirk.

“Yeah you are”

“Unless you don’t want to sleep tonight I’m sleeping in our bed”

You hate how well she knows you and your sleeping habits while she’s near. Your only response is a huff and Alessia knows that she’s won this time. You let her think that for a little before sneaking your hand onto her thigh as you keep on driving, paying little attention to her. When you feel goosebumps rising under your hand and see her shiver out of the corner of your eye, you know that you’re the true winner.

I kind of hate this, but it’s pretty funny so it’s what you get, and I would usually put a read more thingy on longer docs like these but I can’t figure out how you do it on mobile

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 17)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (17)

Masterlist (other parts here)

“I’ll tell you what she said when I see you in a few days, okay? I think it’s better done face to face.”

Jordan sighed. “You’re right, it’s just my emotions talking. And you’re sure you’re okay? You have a nasty black eye in that photo..”

“I think that’s the worst it’s going to get, fingers crossed. It’s still sore, and I’m going to have a scar but I’m okay, Dory.” Lucy nudged her and jerked her chin towards the phone. “Oh, and Lucy wants you to know that you’re my bodyguard while she’s in Spain.”

“I’m smaller than you, mate!” Jordan laughed. “I’ll just make you come to all the training sessions so we have a Villa army to protect you.”

“I don’t think management will be happy with the potential of your players getting bricked by three of Lucy’s wives, but I’ll take whatever I can get!”

Jordan laughed and Lucy groaned at that, not looking impressed. YFN reached out and stroked her cheek.

“Oh, and you two soft-launched again?!”

“Did we?”

“Hard launch incoming soon!” Lucy said loud enough for Jordan to hear.

YFN raised her eyebrows and Lucy wiggled hers cheekily.

They ended the call with promises to see each other soon and talk about Leah.

YFN turned to Lucy who was doing a crossword. It was night time now, the Arsenal girls had left, and they were alone for another night in the hospital. YFN had suggested that Lucy go home to a more comfy bed, but that idea was met with an absolute no. She’d brought more clothes for them, as well as things to keep them entertained. Like the crossword.

“It’s late…” YFN said.

Lucy nodded, finishing her word and then putting the it away. She put her arms behind her head and laid back against the inclined hospital bed, her eyes roaming over her girlfriend unashamedly.

“We need to talk about lawyer costs. I-”

“No.”

“Luce, please-”

“Nope.”

“This is my issue.. it’s unfair.”

Lucy shrugged. “Even if it was your issue, which it isn't.. your issues are my issues.”

“I have the money, you know.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at YFN’s cheeky attempt to start an argument. She was amused by it. “So do I, so much that I don’t know what to do with it. And if I can’t spend it on the people I love then what’s the point?”

YFN’s heart skipped at beat at that word, love, and she shared a look with Lucy, but chose to not go down that rabbit hole. Not yet. “Makes me feel like a prostitute.”

The most genuine laugh bubbled up in Lucy that she’d ever heard. “Oh, I’d pay much more for your sex.”

YFN groaned and rolled her eyes. “I don’t like-”

“-things feeling one sided and like you’re not contributing?”

She pouted at the knowledge that Lucy had perfectly summed up her thoughts.

Lucy leant forwards and took her by the waist, pulling her onto her. Lucy’s hands went under her shirt, massaging her hips and waist. YFN’s hands found Lucy’s traps and gently traced there, and up the sides of her neck. All of it was so... natural.

“You give me so much already. There’s no keeping tabs here. You’d do the exact same for me.”

YFN knew there was no winning the conversation, also knowing she’d get her back at some stage. Money didn’t mean much to either of them, and even if it did, they were both happy to spend any amount on each other.

YFN’s hands had moved up to the sides of Lucy’s head, tracing the outlines of her ears before letting her hair down for the night, removing her glasses, and weaving her fingers in her hair, gently massaging. Lucy groaned, her eyes rolling back, lips parting as her head automatically tilted back into her fingers. Lucy enjoyed the feel for a while before she adjusted, one hand going to YFN’s lower back, pressing her forward while the other carefully pushed up the front of the shirt she was wearing – Lucy’s shirt – just high enough to expose her breasts to the cool air of the room. She brushed her lips over her nipple, then her tongue, and then it was in her mouth, gently sucked, her tongue getting involved. YFN whimpered, her hands gripping in Lucy’s hair, holding her there. It was one of her favourite things, and the feel of Lucy’s jaw shifting as she sucked was one of the sexiest things to her. Lucy took her time and began kneading her second breast in preparation. She eventually finished with the first, covering it with her shirt so it wasn’t cold and moving onto her other nipple, tongue circling around it teasingly before taking it in her mouth. YFN groaned, her insides getting needy and she had to restrain herself from grinding on her girlfriend.

“God, you’re such a tease.” YFN moaned, a little breathless.

Lucy chuckled with her nipple still in her mouth and sucked a little longer before she let go, pulling her shirt back down and making sure it covered her hips.

“You started it.”

She scoffed and unwillingly dismounted her athlete of a girlfriend, crawling under the covers and patiently waiting until Lucy had lowered the bed and was also under the covers, holding her.

YFN was glad to be leaving the hospital. She was even more glad to be leaving the city, though this had come with a little speed bump as she needed her stitches out in 5 days, and would no longer be in the city. Luckily, she was referred to a doctor in Birmingham who made an appointment for her. Lucy wasn’t entirely happy that she wouldn’t be there and again tried to tell YFN that she could delay her flight. That wasn’t an option for her.

They left the hospital and went straight to Lucy’s London home. Lucy wasn’t more than a metre away from her at all times, incredibly protective and aware of their surroundings. YFN loved this, and was okay with it because it made her feel safe, and Lucy more relaxed knowing she was safe. They packed and left the apartment early, trying to beat the traffic. They didn’t. Normally this would frustrate Lucy but YFN made sure she was well entertained with music, singing, terrible jokes, and being fed all of the snacks she could possibly want. And when all else failed, she even pulled Lucy's hand under her shirt and bra to grab her breast. This worked immediately, of course, the right-back threatening to find an empty parking bay along the way.

They drove straight through Birmingham and kept going on to Manchester. They arrived just after midday and drove straight to Lucy’s house to get settled in. YFN kept her clothes in her suitcase though, knowing they’d be leaving for Birmingham in a day or so. While Lucy unpacked and changed her clothes, YFN wandered the house, getting a feel for it. Her house in London had been similar, very simplistic, modern, neutral colours. It was a mix of concrete greys, white and black, offset by the silver of the kitchen appliances and the sun shining through the skylight. The only trophy to be seen was one from when she was young, with a picture of young Lucy, her mum, dad, brother and baby sister as she held the award proudly. She had a few photos around the house, all of family and a few of Narla. YFN thought she looked cute. Outside was small, a little courtyard of lawn and a small patio, just large enough to entertain her family. She remembered having a discussion with Lucy about where she’d live after she retired, and she’d wanted to stay in Manchester, close to her family, though wanted a house big enough to have a football pitch in the back yard. As she stared outside she felt two arms sliding around her as Lucy hugged her from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

YFN leant her head against Lucy’s and nodded. “I love it. It feels… like being on the inside of your brain. All neat and tidy, but bright and open.”

Lucy chuckled. “Yeah, this place has been good to me. Wish I had a bigger back yard though.”

YFN smiled because she’d just been thinking that exact same thing. She leant her head back, exposing her neck and Lucy took advantage, her lips caressing and kissing that sensitive skin.

“If you keep doing that, we're going to be tempted to stay in tonight..”

Lucy took those words and teased her harder, nipping at her earlobe and kissing down to her collarbone, her hand creeping up to her breast.

YFN let herself enjoy it until her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and checked. It was an email from the company the girls had been talking about. With her permission, Katie had passed on her email to them at the hospital. Lucy looked over her shoulder and read with her.

“That’s positive… they want your resume and examples of the column you used to write?”

YFN nodded. “And it says the resume is only needed for the reference checks. They also say they’re excited to meet me because they’ve heard quote ‘wonderful and positive comments and recommendations from several players…’”

The girls must have talked her up to the company. She smiled at that, a little blush arising. Lucy noticed and kissed her cheek, YFN feeling that wide grin of hers. She pocketed her phone and turn in her arms, facing her girlfriend.

“I need something..”

“Please tell it’s sex, because I’m all in little one.” She leant down to kiss her and was stopped by YFN’s fingers on her lips.

“Actually, I need your WIFI password for my laptop?” She grinned. “I need to send this off before we leave for your parents.. but it’s nice to know you’re still sexually attracted to me with this hideous black eye and bandage.”

Lucy pulled her hand away from her lips and kissed that ‘hideous black eye’.

“You’re stunning.” She whispered huskily before giving that cheeky look of hers. “So… no sex?”

“I just can’t believe this!” Lucy’s mum, Diane, said, cradling YFN’s face to better look at her black eye. Lucy’s dad, Joaquim, was over Diane’s shoulder, adjusting his glasses and looking equally appalled.

“This… will scar?” He asked with a strong accent, gesturing to her bandage. He was Portugese, making Lucy half English-half Portugese.

YFN nodded.

“How big?”

Lucy was there then, pointing to where the line of stitches under the bandage were, roughly 3 inches long and dissecting the end of her eyebrow. They both winced.

“Do you remember it?” Diane asked.

“I remember most of it.. when the brick hit the window, I can’t remember anything from there on. I can’t remember the impact beyond pain. I can’t even remember Luce finding me. There’s patches in the car where I was in pain because she was holding my head on the way to the hospital, but only patches. I was a bit dazed.”

“She was a bit fuzzy the day after too, a little unsure on her feet. She’s much better now.” Lucy said, giving her a kiss on the shoulder. Lucy being so loving in front of her family made her heart swell.

They settled down to eat dinner, Lucy’s brother Jorge, his wife Charis and their kids arriving just on time. Lucy’s younger sister Sophie and her girlfriend also joined, it being YFN’s first time meeting them.

The Bronze family made her feel at home immediately, they were all so genuine and… odd almost. Like Lucy. But in the best way. At one point they were all sharing embarrassing stories from Lucy’s childhood, her mum bringing out photo albums, much to Lucy’s embarrassment. It was brilliant. YFN’s stomach was sore from laughing so hard. She also realised that they were all quite intelligent, especially Jorge. He and Lucy liked to challenge each other a lot. At one point YFN was helping Diane with the dishes, and was getting a little worried at how loud they were shouting at each other, the last 2 people standing in a card game. Lucy eventually won and made it known very loudly. Diane had laughed and told her it was quite normal when it came to anything competitive in the family.

They all joined in playing several card games, charades, and even answering quiz questions. Lucy refused to be teamed up with anyone other than YFN and dragged her around the room dancing and singing loudly whenever they won something, which was surprisingly often as YFN was so great at the quizzes that the family seemed impressed.

They played a lot with Lucy’s niece and nephew also, Alzira and Freddie.

“You love them a lot, don’t you?” YFN stated.

“They keep me grounded more than anything else in my life. They keep me so incredibly humble also.. when we’re in the stadiums, they’re not even impressed because they think it’s so normal. It really helped me during the World Cup in Australia.” She paused what she was doing, Alzira in between her legs playing with Lego. “I would have really liked to have known you when I was in Australia..”

YFN blushed under Lucy’s gaze, as she helped Freddie with his Lego piece. “I would have really liked to show you my country.”

“We still have a lot of time..”

“You’d want to see it?” YFN's eyes flicked excitedly to Lucy's green comforting ones.

“Of course! It’s your home. I want to see everything about your home that inspired you. Everything you were born and raised around. Anything you’d be excited to show me. And that includes your nan and brother.”

Just when she thought she couldn’t love her any more.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that actually.. I have a group call with my nan and brother tomorrow if you’d like to join? We try to do it every month. They already know about you, of course.”

Lucy grinned wide. “Yeah? I’d love that. Oh I can’t wait to ask for embarrassing stories they have about you, like the ones my family just roasted me with.”

Charis came over then. “Your mum wants some help with the TV? Something about an HDMI cord. I think she’s trying to play old videos of you…"

Lucy groaned and got up, Charis replacing her to sit behind Alzira. She smiled at YFN and they spoke a bit about the Bronze’s and life as a mum.

“Narla!” Freddie said suddenly, looking at Charis and opening and closing his fists.

“You miss Narla?”

The little kid nodded. “Narla!”

“You want to talk to her?”

“Yeah!”

Charis rolled her eyes at YFN who just grinned at the boy’s insistence. “He thinks Narla can answer the phone.” She whispered sneakily as she texted someone and then made a phone call, and suddenly Narla was on the end of the phone. Freddie grabbed the phone, grinning as he looked at the Westie on the other end. This was also the first time YFN had seen the dog as she watched from behind Freddie.

“Ohhh she’s so cute! I can’t wait to meet her!”

At the sound of her voice, the camera moved to a woman she recognised as Lucy’s ex, Keira Walsh.

“Oh!” Keira looked surprised. “Hi, YFN. I’ve heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you!”

YFN wasn’t expecting that at all, and she stumbled over her words before she managed to find something to say. “Oh… Keira! Hey. You’re… you’re back in Spain?”

“Yeah, yeah. Luce is lucky she got to stay in England a bit longer. It's for the best with her knee though and I know the family all missed her too.”

YFN nodded politely, her heart beating a little too fast. She was more than aware that Keira was Lucy’s best friend, and the most important person in her life besides her mum. She’d wanted to make a good impression when she first met her, and looking at herself in the phone, her reflection looked tired, with a big white bandage and hideous black eye. Not exactly the impression she’d wanted to make. And even worse, her thoughts were running more rampant than that. Keira was with Narla. She was basically on speed dial with the Bronze’s. And also.. Keira was in Lucy’s apartment?