#woso thoughts

[lenorelovesgirls]

HANG IT IN THE MF LOURVE 😭😭😭😭🙏

[foxbullfrog]

Genuinely think people forget russos been a no 9 for abt 5 yrs max. And half that time she was moved around the pitch a fair bit. Shes not your classic prodigy striker - people need to stop criticising her for not being something she's never pretended to be and start criticising managers for utilising her incorrectly.

[leennaan]

I can’t believe I am about to say this, but if (big if😂) Arsenal wins against City AND United win against Chelsea (again) then have City won the title, Arsenal is second AND Chelsea will only finish third!

This would be amazing! 😃

[wosoimagines]

Here’s my thoughts on the knockout stages even though no one asked

So, I haven’t seen anyone else point this out, and honestly it’s a dream and I don’t think it’s likely to happen…

The teams from the Americas have the opportunity to turn the Olympics into total chaos and the Gold Cup 2.0.

Do I really see all four teams from the Americas winning? No. But anything can happen. And I think Colombia will probably frustrate Spain. France also hasn’t looked as solid as I thought they would, but Brazil has been underwhelming (why the fuck didn’t they bring Debinha?). But I do ultimately figure Spain and France will go through. Canada and Germany honestly is a toss up. Canada has a fire lit under them to try and redeem themselves and Germany’s defense has been ehhh this tournament.

I think, the way everyone’s been playing, we’ll see a Spain/France semifinal and USA/Canada semi with ultimately Spain/USA final. Do I have a prediction on who gets the gold? No. Spain, obviously, is the favorite but I do wonder when the fatigue is going to hit. That’s the biggest reason, in my opinion, why no team has ever won the World Cup and the Olympics the following year. But on top of the World Cup, the season for most of the rest of the world started not long after, factor in them playing their entire season and Euro qualifiers and that tournament thing they had with it (I’ve honestly forgotten what it was called), I think we’re starting to see that fatigue. But no team ever winning the World Cup and the following Olympics is history lesson number one (if any team can do it, I think it’s this Spain team). History lesson number two is that the USWNT has never gone a major tournament cycle without winning either the World Cup or the Olympics. Do I expect this to forever and always be true? No. But I definitely think that this USA team is hungry for a medal to prove themselves and I think they’ve shown that in the group stage.

[samkerrworshipper]

trouble in paradise

slow paced/slow burn fics fear me. i wrote this in like 4 hours so lets be kind guys and ignore how spirally thsi is. hopefully another fic coming sometime in the next week xo

williamson!sister x alexia putellas

warnings: light angst, mentions of alcohol

You have mixed emotions as soon as the whistle blows.

You’re ecstatic, obviously. Who wouldn’t be after winning the biggest accolade your club has had in 18 years, especially considering just how much time and effort you’ve devoted to

them in those 18 years.

Arsenal has won, your one and only club has managed to win the champions league in what can only be described as probably the biggest underdog win in champions league history.

It’s exhilarating, it doesn’t feel real. But as your eyes lock onto Alexia, on the other side of the pitch, doubled over on herself like she’s experiencing a pain that is non-human.

Then your eyes move to Leah, your sister who bleeds even more red than you do.

She’s running straight for you, like you’re the only person in the world she wants to share this moment with, and you feel the same, she’s the most important part of your world. But as she blocks your view of Alexia your heart drops in a way that it shouldn’t at this moment.

You don’t have much time to think about it before your sister is barreling straight into you, knocking all the air out of your lungs as the two of you fall to the ground.

“We fucking did it.”

She collapses directly on you like a golden lab who has just spotted its owner and wants the biggest hug a person can give. Her whole body buries itself into yours, and then about five more as the dog pile starts.

You are just as Arsenal and Leah and Lotte, every single part of your body and soul belongs to the club. But you have this underlying feeling that you shouldn’t at this moment. It’s weird to consciously know it but not be able to change it.

You’ve gotten so used to Barcelona winning, sitting in the stands for the last two finals watching your girlfriend win everything and anything that she sets her eyes on. It’s annoying how easy it all is for her, but it’s also what you love about her.

Leah says you're a puppy dog, she’s never quite gotten used to Alexia. Like any older sibling she’s protective, but Leah takes it to another level. She’s never made anything easy for Alexia, ruthless to a point that you’ve never seen her be with anybody else and yet Alexia takes it all, never complains, if anything she gives ten times more in an attempt to seek some kind of approval from your sister. She never quite gets it, but she likes the challenge, you know it.

The dog pile eventually falls off and you're left to look up at the sky. You think that it’s perfect, and that truly if you could stay staring up at the bright Lisbon blue for the rest of your life you would.

But you're brutally taken from that as a set of arms tug you off the ground. Suddenly the 90+ minutes of playing time hit you, or maybe the nausea, or guilt and you feel wobbly. Like your whole body could collapse if your teammates weren’t holding you up.

Leah kisses your head, over and over again until she moves onto having a moment with Kim and you've got Kyra plastered to your side telling you how you’re her idol and some other spur of words that don’t quite process in your brain.

It’s probably easily played off as shock due to the win, but in reality you actually are experiencing the worst guilt you’ve ever felt.

The shaking hands is worse, specifically because you have spent the last three summers with this team and have never in your life seen them all completely gutted. You try to keep it quick, but when Ingrid starts crying into you shoulder you legitimately feel like you might vomit.

Alexia is the worst, because of course she is.

It’s hard enough to approach her, sitting on the ground with Mapi squatted down next to her.

Mapi spots you first, your Spanish isn’t bad but you certainly can’t lip read it. She says something to Alexia though, because she looks up at you for a split second. You watch the hope fade into something else that looks like disgust and then she says something to Mapi which prompts Mapi to stand up.

The frown on her face tells you everything.

“She-She just needs a few minutes.”

You try not to let it show on your face, not to show the complete rejection you feel at being blocked from the one person who can probably solve your problem.

Mapi must see it though, she’s good at that you’ve learnt, good at reading people who don’t want to be.

“She’ll call you later, or come see you, I’ll make sure of it. She just needs a little bit.”

You try and convince yourself that it isn’t the worst pain you’ve ever felt.

The guard of honour is probably the worst part, she reaches out for Mariona a few steps in front of you, and then her eyes lock on you and you have hope. But she walks past, as if you’re nothing. As if you haven’t been in a public relationship for two years now and as if she isn’t the love of your life like she’s told you.

You feel Leah’s glare from beside you, her hand tightening in its place on your shoulder in a silent question. Her head ducks down, resting in your ear as if she’s going to say something.

“Leave it. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. If you want me to keep smiling for the cameras, stay silent.”

You’re the quieter out of you and Leah, less bossy, generally more in the shadows. But your relationship is quite the opposite, it kind of has to be when you’re dating the best player in the world. You already know how many tik tok edits are already going to be made about this moment and how many rogue messages you’ll receive from people who know nothing about your life.

Leah gets the message, she’s smart enough not to prod when there are quite literally cameras at every angle recording every moment right now. She has her own relationship that she’s trying to preserve from all of the media. She knows what it means to keep some parts of a public life hidden.

Barcelona collect their medals and you try to keep a tight smile on your face as you watch Alexia walk across the stage and take her medal. She’s not used to having a silver one, it’s the first thought in your mind, not for a long time at least. All she ever does is win, she was literally the poster girl for nikes ‘just win’ campaign.

Then it’s your turn, your turn to walk through Barca’s guard of honour. Most of the girls who you’ve spent summers with open up for a hug, or a handshake at least. But Alexia looks so spaced out and out of the moment that she doesn’t even flinch when Frido elbows her in the ribs. She looks at you, like a kicked puppy and then looks at the fucking ground of all places.

It’s the twisting of the knife already lodged in your gut.

You try to smile as the confetti goes off and the trophy is lifted. You try and think about how much more upset you’ll be when you look at the pictures afterwards just for you to look upset in all of them. It does nothing though, not when the trophy is offered to you to lift, not when Lotte has her arms around your shoulders humming to ‘North London Forever’ , not when your sister tries to dance with you.

Even when your family comes down to the pitch. Even the sight of your Spurs father in an Arsenal jersey does nothing.

Mariona is the first person to bring you in for a proper hug.

“It doesn’t feel good doing it, wishing that other people would win so much that you’d rather lose.”

You’re off to the side, far enough away that you don’t feel suffocated by red. A different shade of red to the Barcelona one you were expecting to see.

“Is it bad that I was so certain they were going to win that this wasn’t a possibility?”

Mariona shakes her head, although you highly doubt she agrees. She’s as invested in this belief as everybody else, you were too. You believed that your team could win, you just somehow didn’t believe it was actually going to happen.

“Not at all, there is nothing bad about being surprised about an outcome you didn’t expect. How about you go and talk to Ale?”

You feel sick thinking about her. She’s your favourite person and yet it feels like you’re the last person she wants to see.

“She doesn’t want to see me. She’s made that very clear.”

Mariona frowns and brings you in for another hug.

“She’s never been a very good loser, give her an hour and she’ll warm back up. She’ll want to celebrate with you when she’s gotten over this.”

You hope for the love of god that Mariona is right.

You put yourself through the hell of post-game celebrations and media. Take every photo and every interview that you have to and then you’re heading straight back to the hotel.

Alexia’s hotel is the one next to yours, and you make the decision that you can’t go to the celebrations until you’ve sorted it all out. Once you get to the celebrations you’re inevitably going to drink, in the company of Katie McCabe and your sister you’ll probably drink a lot. You tend to have a pattern of your anger when you're drunk turning into a very ugly person and you’re determined to not let it happen right now. You also want to see your girlfriend.

Leah moans the whole walk over, groaning about how she could be partying and about how she could be drinking and celebration and a whole other slew of complaints that your depressed brain isn’t ready to hear.

You make it into the lobby without encountering anybody, but Alexia’s hotel hallway is full of Barcelona staff and players who look like they're ready to spit and yours and your sisters game jerseys that you’re still wearing.

“I don’t get why we have to bloody search for Putellas when she’s having a pity party, we should be partying.”

You hiss at Leah, she’s slightly tipsy on the heineken cans from the locker room and is bordering on your last nerve.

“I didn’t ask you to come Leah, I am here because I want to be, I didn’t tell you to accompany me.”

She groans again but you’re too focused as your eyes lock onto Patri at the end of the hallway.

“Oi, Patri, Patri.”

She turns quickly, her eyes downcast and puffy as if she’s been crying for hours, which your figure she probably could have.

“Williamson one, Williamson two.”

Leah laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke that could have been made.

“Glad to see that I haven’t lost my sense of humour.”

Then Leah giggles, the same way she does when she’s plastered at the pub on a Sunday night and is two steps away from forgetting everything.

“I need to see Alexia.”

Patri swallows, in the same way people tend to when they’re nervous.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

Leah’s giggling seizes. She steps out in front of you.

“Tell Putellas to stop sulking and come and congratulate my sister the same way she has the last two years. She can get over herself for five minutes and be gracious.”

Suddenly the possibility of a fight in this hallway doesn’t seem impossible.

“Patri, please, just let me see her. She doesn’t need to talk, I just want to see her.”

Patri shakes her head, but you assume Leah does the scary thing where she frowns and tilts her head like an animal about to strike because Patri relents.

“I will try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

Patri disappears down the hallway until she gets to a room a few doors down, she must have Alexia’s keycard because the door opens immediately and she slips in.

“Seriously, why are we here? This is your night and Putellas is ruining it. Her sob story is seriously killing the buzz.”

You’re sick of everybody else telling you what to do and what to feel.

“Leah I didn’t fucking ask you to be here, shut up or leave. This is my problem and I’m happy to fix it on my own.”

Leah mutters something under her breath and you swear you might strangle her, it wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had gotten into a tussle. Then you spot Mapi down the end of the hallway and your focus switches again. This time you don’t have to yell, she spots you immediately and pivots in your direction.

“Chica, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be partying, no? Or at least doing something better than this.”

Your strangling intention pivots to Mapi.

“This is what I’m saying, why are we here?”

Strangling back to Leah.

“Leah, final time I tell you to shut up before I throat punch you.”

You might not be as intense as your sister but when you get worked up you’d argue you’re ten times more terrifying.

“I just need Ale, okay? Five seconds is all I need.”

Mapi grimaces and it feels like you’re missing something and you hate it.

Just as you’re about to say something, Patri emerges. With no Alexia and a deep frown etched into her face.

“How about you come back tomorrow, or she’ll call you sometime tomorrow.”

You use all of your willpower to shake your head.

“No, tell her that it’s urgent, that I need her right now.”

Leah’s back behind you like a guard dog who's ready to attack at any minute.

“Look, she’s not, she can’t see you right now.”

You feel all the tears building up, all the guilt and anger from today finally coming to fruition.

“Patri, Mapi, please.”

It’s the wobble in your words that do it you think, or at least it does it for Leah.

“You two need to talk to your captain and give her thirty seconds to see my sister whilst she still has some dignity. This is fucking embarassing. She’s stood by her for all of her wins even when it’s been hard for her, she has been there for literally everything.”

Neither of the women move and it’s probably the part that breaks you the most, that these people who you have known for years now don’t have the respect to give you this.

Leah pushes past them, walking to the door Patri had walked in and out of and banging on it so loudly the sound reverberates.

“Putellas I swear to god, or dios or whatever the fuck you call it in Catalan that if you don’t open this door right now to give my sister the congratulations she fucking deserves then I will make sure that she never comes and sees you again. You think that you already have it tough with me? I will make you so miserable that you’d wish to be in hell. Open the fucking door.”

Leah keeps banging, until your ears are ringing and multiple staff members peek their heads out of their bedroom doors to see what all the commotion is.

“Leah.”

It seems like the adrenaline has gotten to her head.

“Leah, let’s go.”

Leah looks like she’s about to say something else, like she’s going to argue but your face must say it all.

“Tell Putellas she can go and get fucked and that if she ever wants to see my baby sister again she better have a pretty good apology lined up and some serious grovelling. In England. No more flying out to Spain because it’s easier for her. She wants anything to do with her she can come talk to me first.”

You don’t wait to see if Leah is following behind you, you just start walking. Down the hallway and into the elevator where Leah does join you.

She doesn’t talk even though it seems like she wants to. She brings you into a hug as soon as the doors close and you don’t even attempt to stifle your sobs.

Leah hugs you until the doors to the elevator open and then she helps you to wipe your face as you exit the hotel and make the walk two blocks back to your own hotel.

The party in the function room is in full swing. Leah forces you through the door like she knows that you’re considering bolting.

“You’re going to regret it if you leave, hate me for it now but I’m right.”

You definitely hate her for it but you don’t run away either. You let your sister tug you through the crowd of people until she finds your mom and then you're gone all over again. Leah walks off in search of Elle and you're left standing in front of your mum with new tears streaming down your face. It takes all of five seconds for her to wrap her arms around you and bring her into you.

“I don’t get why she doesn’t want to see me, I just want to see her.”

You don’t know whether or not you want to hear anything. You want to be able to celebrate with your teammates like a normal person and not be so attached to your fucking girlfriend that when shit like this happens you fall apart.

You’ve always loved hard though, loyal to the point it’s kind of concerning. It’s the one thing you do beat Leah at.

“Just give her a little bit, yeah, she’s struggling. Give her some room to breathe and then punch her a bit for being a dick and get over it. You two will get over it together.”

You want to believe your mum, she’s generally right with most things. You’re a bit hurt right now though to think straight.

“Go enjoy yourself, I promise you that if you don’t then you’ll regret it. Enjoy yourself and worry about Alexia later.”

You would say that the three tequila shots that Katie feeds you are probably what makes you start to enjoy yourself. There’s an unspoken assumption that you’re clearly not okay but everybody is decent enough not to ask. You’re given pretty much every alcoholic beverage that your teammates can find and it helps, slightly. You forget about Alexia for a little bit, for long enough for it to hurt a little bit less.

Until Vic comes up to you telling you that there is somebody from Barcelona waiting for you outside.

Your heart soars, and you all but try to stumble as quickly as you can out of the function room in search of the one person you want to be.

Your heart plummets as soon as you make it out of the doors and Jana is the one waiting for you.

Your mind is significantly more foggy than it was when you were talking to Patri and Mapi.

“She’s sorry.”

Sorry seems to be the worst thing you could be told.

“Sorry?”

Jana shrugs like she has more to say but doesn’t know how to.

“She just needs a bit of a break right now.”

You feel every positive feeling that had been starting to reintroduce itself to your body completely leave.

“A break from our relationship, or me or just life?”

Jana looks like she really doesn’t know what to say.

“So she loses one game, the first game shes ever fucking played against me for club and decides she’s just done? That she can’t stomach perfect fucking barcelona losing? Nice, love that her pride comes before me. You’d think after three years that would maybe pass but I suppose the time doesn’ matter as much to her as it matters to me.”

Jana is left speechless and that’s all the answers you need.

You drink. You drink a lot. Going toe to toe with Katie is no small feat but you manage to do pretty well. You drink until you can’t think anymore and are legless and then you drink some more.

You don’t know what time somebody takes you to bed but you do know that you wake up with Leah snoring beside you and your head so sore that it feels like your brain doesn’t belong inside of it.

“Oi, stop fucking snoring. No wonder Elle complains.”

Leah rouses next to you, a lopsided smile on her face as she blinks away the sleep. She put an arm out to hug you and you give her a shove that almost pushes her off of the bed.

“Glad to see that your charm doesn’t disappear when you’re nursing the hangover of the century. I was supposed to spend the night with Elle but you were so blind I genuinely thought you were going to choke on your own vomit in your sleep.”

You try to shove her again but she’s far away now that she’s out of the shoving vicinity.

“You’re supposed to be nice to me, y’know, little sister care or something.”

Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah right I’ve seen Putellas fight on the floor with her sister.”

As soon as the words leave Leah’s mouth she knows what she's done, everything you’d almost forgotten comes flooding straight back and the sickness washes over you all over again.

“Shit-I’m-Shit.”

You shake your head, it's already been said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We should start packing, early flight and everything.”

Leah seems to get the message, rolling out of your bed in a thud and dragging herself out of your room with a little smile on the corner of her lips.

You have peace for about five minutes, enough peace to silence the pain in your head every time you blink or move. Until your door unlocks and Kyra comes barreling in.

“So trouble in paradise?”

She’s got a lot more energy than you think anybody else does. As if she never drank to begin with.

“You can either leave or be quiet and help me pack my bag.”

Kyra wasn’t the person you thought you’d bond with. When she’d come to Arsenal you’d already cemented pretty solid relationships with girls in the team like Lotte and Kim. You all were on the quieter side. Then Kyra had come along and everything you’d heard about her and seen of her was loud and rambunctious and chaotic. Then you got to know her, got to know about how she was an extroverted introvert and 80% of the time was a lot calmer than everyone made her out to be. The two of you found a balance together.

“I’ll do your toiletries, you sort out luggage.”

You're sick of the little sorry smile people keep giving you.

Kyra battles in your ensuite whilst you throw the very small amounts of your things into your suitcase. It’s a quick process and by the time you check your phone you’re running perfectly on time. You try not to feel hurt by the lack of texts, calls or signs of life from Alexia. You’re fine, none of it really matters.

Kyra and you manage to get your things out of your room right as some of the staff are coming down and knocking on peoples door to meet down at the bus transfers to the airport. You try not to think about the fact that as soon as you get on the plane that’s another two weeks before you play Alexia again. Two more weeks without seeing her that you didn’t think you’d have.

You help Kyra pack up her own things before the two of you head down to the lobby to wait.

The lobby is already pretty full, full of teammates who look like they’re in desperate need of a bucket or some serious anti-nausea pills before they hop on a flight.

You dump your luggage with everybody else’s and find a seat mostly away from everybody else. Although nobody seems to be in an overly sociable mood.

You’re wallowing in your own depression, really. It’s a little bit pathetic but you don’t really care. You’re past the point of caring what anybody thinks of you after you pretty much confessed all of your relationship problems to half of your teammates last night and possibly coaching staff as well.

You should be embarrassed but in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t really matter. It feels like your relationship is imploding in front of you and you literally can’t do anything to stop it.

“Mini Williamson, you’re wanted.”

Beth’s voice is completely gone, raw and stringy but you hear it all the same.

“I don’t want a photo or anything else, Beth.”

Suddenly you wish that you’d gotten your sunglasses from your bag because as the sun shines in through the windows in the lobby your head hurts at a whole other level.

“I think you’ll want to see this.”

You look up at Beth and then at the direction she’s pointing in and choke on whatever air you’d been inhaling.

“Oh god.”

Alexia looks like she hasn’t slept, less than you. The part that is the most horrific about her appearance though is the arsenal jersey that she’s wearing. You’ve never seen Alexia in a jersey of yours that hasn’t been an English one, there was a weird contingency between the two of you that club jerseys were just a no. You both were one club players, and you wanted it to stay that way. Yet here Alexia is, standing in the lobby of the hotel with a bright red Arsenal jersey.

The only thought you have is that as you sister locks eyes with her that she is going to punch her. It’s the only thing that crosses your mind.

“Leah. No.”

Leah doesn’t listen, it was a hopeless attempt. She flys full force towards Alexia at a rate that you could never catch up with.

Alexia doesn’t flinch as Leah comes face to face with her, her hands digging into the stupid jersey as Leah starts to yell something that you can’t understand because your too focused on getting in between the two of them without passing out from hangover symptoms.

You manage to cross the room before Leah throws hands. Thankfully.

“Leah, no. Not here.”

You try to ignore the fifty eyes of your teammates on you.

Leah looks like an animal about to tear into her prey.

“Leah. No. Not here.”

You drag the two of them into the nearest handicapped bathroom you can find.

“You think you can just dick around my sister and show up here the next morning and be forgiven, huh? God Putellas you should be worshipping her fucking feet right now, you should be grateful that she hasn’t broken up with you ass for your dumbass behaviour. Do you realise how out of your league she is? How any person in London would break their own leg to have her, and yet you just get to have her and fuck her around however you want?”

Alexia just nods along with everything Leah says.

“Are you done, Leah? Can I talk to my partner now without my sister talking for me?”

Leah is staring down Alexia with such intensity that you think she might combust.

“Leah, out, let me talk to her, please.”

Leah relents, but then gives up.

“I will be waiting outside and if I hear anything leave your mouth Putellas besides an apology I will be back.”

The older sister act has happened your whole life, to every girlfriend, fling, one night stand and partner. Apparently it’s unavoidable.

The room is silent for a few seconds, Alexia doesn’t look like she’s going to say anything so you fill the silence.

“I’ve never seen you in an Arsenal top before.”

With the busy schedule you hardly manage to make it to any of Alexia’s club matches and vice versa. Although you do have a Barca top buried in the bottom of your dresser that you pull out when you have time to watch Alexia’s games. You never wear it but you bring it out anyways.

“You won, you deserve to be represented.”

You can’t tell how authentic it is and that hurts.

“I just didn’t deserve it last night.”

Alexia looks so broken that you almost fold, almost give up the tough persona but you’re still hurt, even as you look at Alexia’s pouty features and empty eyes.

“I-I there’s no excuse. You deserved to celebrate how you pleased last night and I ruined it for you. I was selfish and too consumed in my own emotions to see that. I don’t have anything to say but I’m sorry. You deserved better and I didn’t give it to you.”

Alexia’s lip quivers, properly quivers.

“That’s all you have? That you were too worried about yourself to care about me? Do you understand that to be in a relationship it's 50/50, you don’t get to choose when you care about me and when you don’t. You’re supposed to love me unconditionally.”

A tear rolls down Alexia’s face and you feel horrible, but you know you’re doing the right thing by not going easy.

“I’ve never lost to somebody I loved. I’ve never played on a field and wanted another person to win simply because I love them. I’ve never felt worse than I did when I was happy that you won. I was supposed to be upset about us losing and yet I was more upset about the fact that I was happy that you won. I didn’t want to ruin your celebrations by being upset, you deserved to be surrounded by people who were going to appreciate you fully instead of distract you. I wanted you to be free of me burdening you.”

It’s the relatability, the fact that you can say that everything Alexia is describing you also felt.

“I want to share everything with you. I don’t spend every spare minute on the phone with you and every other minute thinking about you to not want to spend the ups and downs with you. I would have rather sat in your hotel room all of last night crying then gone to stupid celebrations not knowing how you felt about me.”

The silence hangs for a few seconds.

“They were great celebrations, not stupid and Putellas this is when you actually apologise so I don’t kill you.”

You bang your head against the wall of the bathroom.

“Leah, Fuck off.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I am sorry. I did not give you wanted on the night of your life. You deserved to be celebrated and I did the complete opposite. I never want that to happen again, I love your more than anything, you are my life and you are my soul. Please, let me make it iup to you. I’ll come to London, I’ll do anything. I just want you, I want to make it up to you.”

You suppose she’s the love of your life, and you aren’t quite ready for this to be the end of that.

“You’ll come to London and you’ll wear my jersey all weekend and you’ll go out for dinner with Leah and make things up and you’ll deal with me when I’m wasted or so hungover I can’t move until you have to go to Spain. Understood.”

Alexia nods dutifully.

“And she’ll take you shopping, both of us shopping, and I want the new oakley drop.”

You roll your eyes and reach out for Alexia, letting her press the most respectable of kisses to your cheek before parting.

“Leah if you aren’t gone by the time I exit I will make it so you can never play football again.”

You wait for the scamper of her feet before you fall into Alexia with the whole weight of your body, relaxing against the person you’ve needed most,

[lenorelovesgirls]

Wiegman Spain would be a lethal Spain chileee 😭.

They would destroy and conquer ( even though sarina sometimes doesn't know how to sub on player's at the right time)

Imagine Spain with wiegman, fricking terrifying

Jenni and Alexia starting together

Mapi and Pina would 100% come back

And they'd be unbeatable imagine getting drawn in a group against them it'd be terrifying

Don't manifest it though! Because I kind of need her at England right now

But just an example of what Spain could be like with a competent coach

[enwoso]

ok ms girl i see you👀 she never ever fails to impress.

[alicentsgf]

honestly one of my favourite woso things is the way someone will just occasionally quote this tweet the England captain made at 15 (typo included) with no context and it never really gets any less funny

[meazalykov]

accidental repost

esmee brugts x f!reader with features of the whole barcelona femeni team x f!reader

a tiktok repost sends the whole team into confusion and laughter

you wake up to the soft hum of your alarm, the sun filtering through your curtains.

honestly, things have been like this for awhile. you have another day of training with the team, and the cold brew you have brewing in your fridge is making you excited for the day.

you stretch, grab your phone, and scroll through your notifications as you always do. some of your teammates like salma, jana, esmee, and vicky have been blowing up tiktok lately, posting dance videos, lip-syncs, and random goofy content that has the fans going.

last night, you were featured in jana's new video. she wanted you to smile or blink depending on how much you liked a dessert from a tiktok audio. since you were tagged, you've been getting the notifications for it.

making a mental note, you go and turn off notifications for the app.

you are the quiet one on social media. your tiktok account, with your full name and a profile picture from a match last season, sits unused... at least when it comes to posting.

you’ve got a decent following, mostly because you play for barcelona fem and your teammates follow you, but you’ve never posted a single video. instead, you’re the queen of reposts.

your repost part of your page is a curated collection of funny skits, relatable memes, and the occasional football highlight from yourself or an idol that catches your eye.

the team loves it. salma’s always bringing up some random repost of yours that popped up on her ‘for you’ page from you, teasing you about your taste in humor.

“you’re the funniest one on the team but do not tell vicky I said that,” she’ll say, and you’ll just shrug, happy to stay in the background while the other girls do their own thing.

however, there’s one thing you’ve been keeping even quieter. it is you and esmee.

for two weeks now, you’ve been dating in secret. it’s new but chill since there are no grand gestures, just stolen glances during training, quiet coffee dates, and late night texts.

neither of you has told the team, not because you’re hiding, but because you’re both savoring the privacy. esmee’s been your heart, her calm presence balancing your more chaotic energy during training.

you’ve been careful, or so you thought.

last night, you were scrolling tiktok, esmee’s head resting on your shoulder as you lounged on her couch.

a fan edit of her popped up on your fyp. it was an impressively edited montage of her best moments on the pitch, set to a sultry, seductive audio track that made your cheeks flush.

esmee laughed when she saw it, nudging you playfully.

“I've seen that page before. they've made edits for you too,” she said, her dutch accent softening the words.

you meant to send it to her tiktok account, a little inside joke between you two but in your sleepy haze, you hit the wrong button.

you reposted it to your page and for others to see and you didn’t notice.

now, as you head to training, you’re blissfully unaware of the storm coming. you pull into the parking lot, your music blasting, and hop out of your car.

the catalan air is crisp with the sun climbing higher, and you’re ready to train for the upcoming semi-final game coming up.

as you walk into the locker room, something feels… off. vicky’s immediately grinning at you like she’s holding a secret. salma’s eyebrows are raised, her phone clutched tightly.

even patri, who’s usually too focused on her pre training routine, gives you a sidelong glance.

you frown, setting your bag down.

“what’s with the looks? is everything okay?” you ask, your voice light but tinged with suspicion.

vicky smirks, leaning against the lockers.

“oh, nothing. things are fine actually...just… you’ve been busy on tiktok, huh?”

you blink, confused.

“what are you talking about? i didn’t post anything.”

salma snickers, already pulling out her phone.

“you didn’t post, but that video you reposted.... it’s a good one.”

your stomach twists, a faint memory of last night flickering in your mind. however, you wonder if you reposted a joke that might have set some media trainers off.

you shake your head, trying to play it cool.

“i repost stuff all the time. what’s the big deal?”

sydney pipes up.

“this one’s different since... well... you should know since it is your repost.”

you glance at esmee, who’s across the room tying her boots. she’s biting her lip, her shoulders shaking slightly...like she’s trying not to laugh.

your heart picks up speed.

what did you do?

before you can ask, alexia walks in, her captain’s aura commanding the room. she takes one look at the group, then at you, and a slow, amused smirk spreads across her face.

you narrow your eyes at her, silently pleading for an explanation.

“ale, what’s going on?” you ask, your tone more desperate than you’d like.

alexia just shrugs, her smirk widening.

“you tell me, y/n.”

you’re officially lost.

the team’s gathering now, their warmup drills in the gym area forgotten as they circle around you like vultures. salma’s scrolling through her phone, and you catch a glimpse of your tiktok profile on her screen.

your blood runs cold.

“salma, give me that,” you say, reaching for her phone, but she pulls it back, grinning.

“oh, no, no, no. you need to see this on the big screen.” she taps a few buttons, and suddenly, your repost is playing.

it’s the esmee edit. the sultry audio fills the locker room, esmee’s best moments flashing across salma’s phone screen...her sliding tackles, her goals, her celebrations, all perfectly synced to the suggestive beat.

your face burns.

you look at esmee again, and now she’s covering her mouth, her eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter.

“oh my god,” you mutter, your voice barely audible.

“guys, I swear that was an accident!!!”

vicky bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach.

“an accident? y/n, you reposted an edit of esmee looking like a model to that audio and you’re telling me that was an accident?”

jana laughs,

"it takes a bit of buttons to repost something, love."

you sigh but patri’s grinning now, her arms crossed.

“you’ve got taste but why the hell is edits about esmee coming up on your page?”

sydney leans in, her voice teasing.

“yeah, y/n. you hiding something? you and esmee got a little… thing going on?”

your mouth goes dry.

you’re not ready for this and you do not know if esmee is too.

you and esmee agreed to keep it low-key, at least for now. you glance at her, and she’s still trying to hold it together. you’re screwed.

before you can respond, aitana steps in, her voice calm but firm.

“okay, enough. leave her alone, yeah? it’s just a tiktok. so it doesn’t mean anything.”

you could kiss aitana on the forehead right now. she’s always been like an older sister, stepping in when the team gets too rowdy.

even her defense doesn’t stop cata, who’s been quietly watching from the corner.

“i don’t know, tana,” cata says, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“that repost was pretty specific. y/n’s not out here reposting edits of me or you.... just esmee.”

the room erupts in laughter, and you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“it was an accident!” you insist, but no one’s buying it.

“sure, sure,” vicky says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“so, when’s the wedding? I gotta be the one throwing flowers of course.”

you shove her off, your face flaming.

“you’re the worst.”

thankfully training starts, but the teasing doesn’t stop. every drill, every water break, someone’s got a comment.

salma hums the tiktok audio under her breath as she passes you. patri winks every time you and esmee end up near each other.

even kika, who is just watching while injured on the sidelines seems to sense the vibe, giving you a curious look during a passing drill.

you’re dying.

by the time training ends, you’re ready to bolt, but the team’s not letting you off that easily. as you’re changing in the locker room, vicky stands on a bench, holding up her phone like she’s about to make a speech.

“so, y/n,” she says, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“the fans on twitter are losing it over your little tiktok moment. care to explain to us or to them?”

you freeze.

“twitter? what do you mean, twitter?”

salma grins, pulling up her phone again.

“oh, yeah. it’s trending among the women's football girls. ‘y/n reposting esmee edit’ is, like, all over the barça fan accounts. they’re calling it a ‘soft launch.’”

your jaw drops.

“a soft launch? i didn’t launch anything!”

esmee finally speaks up, her voice steady but laced with amusement.

“okay, enough. you’re all acting like this is some big scandal. it’s just a tiktok.”

the room goes quiet. esmee’s rarely the one to shut down the teasing, and her tone is just sharp enough to make everyone pause. but vicky’s not done. she never is.

“just a tiktok, huh? then why’s y/n looking like she wants the floor to swallow her?”

you shoot esmee a look, silently begging her to help you out.

she’s smirking now, clearly enjoying your panic.

traitor.

patri steps forward, her arms crossed.

“alright, spill. are you two together or what because that repost was not giving ‘just friends.’”

you open your mouth to deny it, but esmee cuts you off.

“fine,” she says, her voice exasperated but firm.

“yes, we’re together. happy now?”

the locker room explodes. vicky’s screaming. salma’s laughing so hard she’s doubled over. cata’s chanting “i knew it!” like she’s won the lottery.

even alexia, who’s been quietly watching, lets out a low chuckle.

you’re mortified, but esmee’s hand brushes yours, a small gesture that grounds you.

“i meant to send it to her through the app” you mumble, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

“not repost it.”

salma wipes tears from her eyes.

“that’s the best thing i’ve ever heard. you’re a disaster, y/n.”

aitana, ever the peacemaker, claps her hands.

“okay, okay, let them breathe. you’ve got your answers and now let’s go home.”

vicky’s not done still.

“hold up. the fans are gonna eat this up. you two are, like, the new favorite couple among the millions in europes football.”

you groan, sinking onto the bench.

“i didn’t want to be anyone’s favorite couple.”

esmee sits next to you, her shoulder bumping yours.

“too late,” she says softly, her eyes warm.

you sigh, but a small smile tugs at your lips.

the team’s still talking about it and being nosey, but esmee’s right. the secret’s out, and maybe that’s okay.

you lean into her slightly, ignoring vicky’s exaggerated “aww” from across the room.

[lenorelovesgirls]

there's so many lore's in national teams like I can't fathom how coaches are the way they are 💔. So this is about the French national team, I don't know much but here something from the account that posted this video.

@no’:so basically Corinne Diacre was the coach of the French women’s teams during 6 years but she made a lot of controversial decisions (taking the armband out of Renard without reason) and the players were under bad treatments (they didn’t have access to medical care except if it was a major injury, for example) and a lot of bad pressure (threatening to not call them anymore in case of a bad game). She was also rumored to be very jealous of the players playing for Lyon ( Le Sommer wasn’t called for more than 2 years same for Henry, Bouhaddi was put aside in 2020). So when they decided to speak with the president of the federation, he defended the coach so the players refused to play until they got a new coach in march 2023”

[leahsgf]

need someone to be on the same page as me with this one…

imagine leah with (sort of) influencer!reader.

you film mini days in your lives on your tiktok constantly, and over time leah gets caught in the back of SO many of them. to the point where eventually you give up with trying to hide her in the back and just film her too.

and a whole other side to her is shown to fans, whether it be her literally taking her ‘daily nap’ sprawled out on top of you, insisting that you stroke her back, angrily sitting up when you don’t, her pacing the kitchen struggling to boil pasta, her grumbling to herself as she watches arsenal play, her constantly, and i mean constantly touching you somehow (she is a CLINGY girl through and through) and her walking around the house singing at the top of her lungs, amongst many other things.

you’ve attempted (key word attempted) to do a few fit checks, but she grumpily interrupts every single time, especially when you spin around, grabbing your hips and insisting that nobody but her needs to see.

the internet have branded you *the* sunshine and grumpy trope, which you had to explain to her as she frowned (proving their point)

you drag her into all sorts of challenges for tiktok, and pull pranks that she falls for every single time.

like the one time you refused to call her anything but ‘leah’ for a whole day it lasted an hour but she insists it was a day and she practically melted into a puddle.

she secretly loves your tiktok and favourites all of your videos, and is always the first like.

her favourite by far is the ‘day in the lives’ you do on match days, being her little wag.

she doesn’t love however, the thirst comments you get in your comments, and will whine at every single one, even blocking the people sometimes

[repulsiveliquidation]

Jesus fucking Christ Leah and Paige??? D E A D.

[russos-one]

Young Alexia 🥹 pt2

[samkerrworshipper]

so win.

alexia putellas x reader

no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.

warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised

You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.

You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.

You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.

You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.

You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.

When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.

The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.

With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.

Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.

All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.

You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.

The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.

You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.

Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.

There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.

Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.

You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.

You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.

Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.

Alexia.

Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.

“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”

There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.

“I cannot believe you.”

Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.

You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.

“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”

You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.

“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”

Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.

“So you like it?”

You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.

“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.

“Mm, muy fuckable.”

The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.

“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”

You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.

“That can always be arranged.”

You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.

“Bed first, fashion show after.”

In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.

She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.

Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.

Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.

It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.

‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”

As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.

“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”

There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.

“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”

You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.

Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.

“Alexia, please.”

Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.

“Pants off.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.

Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.

She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.

She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.”

You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.

Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.

“Ale, close.”

You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.

When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.

It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.

“Alexia, need a second.”

Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.

“Una mas.”

You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.

“You can give me one more bebita.”

Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.

Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.

It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.

Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.

She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.

Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.

“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”

Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.

“The real question is how I got this lucky.”

It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.

The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.

Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.

You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.

Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.

You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.

When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.

You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.

You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.

She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.

Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.

“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”

Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.

“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”

Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.

“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”

You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.

“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”

You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.

“I looked that good, huh?”

You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.

“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”

You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.

“Wank bank?”

You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.

“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”

Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.

You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.

“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”

You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”

Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.

“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”

—————-

anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3

[alexiasleftoversalmon]

Ingrid’s hands pt. 2 just because

🫠🥵😮‍💨

[enwoso]

wow -

my fyp is really supplying me well!