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a-tale-of-legends · 2 months

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Over thinker( but not really)

Summary: In which Leon thinks a lot ( and it keeps him awake)

Notes: whatever the ship name for Leon x Raihan x Piers is, this is that. I like writing characters reflecting :) Also super sorry if this is ooc, I genuinely haven't interacted with/ written these characters in a while. I just pressed on and wrote the fluff lol. Also I did NOT edit this bad boy, so sorry for any spelling errors. I still hope you enjoy!!!

If he were to be honest, and he is, he never fully expected to be the cuddler and cuddlee. Raihan and Piers lay on each side of him, Raihan’s head crooning near his neck, and Piers resting on his chest. Both of which are latching into him,allowing zero escape, all three of their legs tangled together in a comfortable mess. And- he’s being truthful here- he did not expect them to be cuddlers. At all. Okay maybe Raihan- he liked to lean on close friends, Leon knew that much. But Piers? Piers liked his space and privacy, which they respected. What more, Piers was a horrid night owl. It took them a while to even get comfortable sleeping together, even more so to drag Piers to bed and make sure he stays there. And yet here he is, an arm wrapped around Leon, comfortable and sleeping away. Leon can't help but feel pride. He’s glad Piers feels safe with him to fall asleep

It’s still weird that they're so cuddly. Not a bad weird. A good weird. Just ….. something he has to get used to now. It is nice, though. And he suppose it makes sense that a dragon and a vampire desire warmth- he chuckles at the thought.

……Sleep eludes him tonight. Not the first time, though he hoped the two bodies next to him would have him asleep in no time. And yet, he stares at the ceiling of Raihan's apartment, wide awake as can be. He's…..not afraid to fall asleep. Not tonight, anyway. No fears of darkness, no flashes of red and blue and purple- nothing. For once, things felt peaceful. So why can't he sleep?

Leon shifts a little- or tries to with his boyfriend's clinging onto him- trying to gather his thoughts. Maybe he's just not tired. Maybe Piers vampirism latched onto him now. He snorts at the thought.

……..

He wonders what Sonia is doing now. Is she with Nessa, like he is with Raihan and Piers? Or is she back home, sleeping away in her own peace? He hopes, either way, she's getting a good night's rest. And if not well. He wonders if she's doing the same thing he’s doing right now. Thinking away.

“Lee,” Raihan’s voice almost made Leon jump out of his own skin. Leon looks down to see a familiar turquoise eye looking up at him, “ I can hear you thinking, love”

An urge to roll his eyes is strong, but instead he chooses to worry- playfully.

“ Sorry it woke you up, then,” he teases, and it's Raihan that rolled his eyes.

“ Mm-hmm” Raihan hums, then he yawns, rising up on his arms, “ Well? What's got you overthinking?”

“ I'm not overthinking-”

“ Hhhrrrrmp” Piers grunts, waking up himself. He doesn't open his eyes just yet, only speaking, “ Why are we talking in the middle of the night?”

“ Lee’s overthinking,”

“ I'm not-”

“ Okay,” Piers yawns, “ Stop overthinking,Leon. Go to bed- ow!”

Leon suppresses a giggle as Raihan pinches Piers, earning them both a glare from the man.

“ Alright, alright, we can talk about it, jeez-”

“ We really don't have to” Leon interrupts, “ It's really nothing”.

Raihan and Piers look at each other, then back at Leon.

“ Lee we all know when you say ‘its really nothing', it's absolutely something”

“But it really isn't!”

“ And when you insist it isn't, it usually is,” Piers adds, also rising up, staring down at Leon, “ So let's cut to the part where you tell us what's up, hm?”

Leon grumbles. Leave it to these two to go straight for the kill….

“ Alright! It's Sonia. Just….thinking about how she's doing, that's all,”

Raihan tilts her head to the side, but before he could say anything, Piers crashes back down next to Leon.

“ Piers-”

“ I’m listening. But I'm also fucking tired. So.” Piers mumbled, and Leon chuckled. Once again - never would have expected this from the vampire man. Though the more he thinks about it, the more that's on him than anything. Raihan shakes his head, but nudges Leon on his shoulder, gently offering him to speak.

“ …..Well. I couldn't sleep. And I didn't exactly feel any distress so I just. Let my mind wander. And I ended up thinking about Sonia,” he shrugs, “ Still don't know why I'm awake though”

Raihan hums, nodding his head.

“ Did you talk to her recently?” He asks. Leon scrunches up his face a bit. Has he? They certainly have been talking more since he lost his title, but recently?

“.....No, not really”

“ Then maybe you just miss her,” Piers offered, his voice muffled slightly by the sheets.

“ We could set up something if you'd like,” Raihan offers next. Leon hums, titling his head to the side slightly.

“ That would be nice…..we’ve both been pretty busy….” He trails off,his mind going back. Back to the gym challenge. Back to their rivarly. Back to home. Back to-

“ She gave me that title first, you know” he says without thinking. Raihan raises a brow.

“ What?”

Leon blinks.

“ Uh. Before the gym challenge. I…..I was so scared. I didn't think anyone would like me or….or if I would make it far,” he swallows, memories flooding back into his mind. Him staring down at the train station, his legs refusing to move. The fear of leaving home, the worry of his loved ones health, the thought of him failing- it was all too much. He remembers Sonia’s touch. He remembers her giving him a warm smile. He remembers what she said-

“ She told me to create a persona. One that's ever confident and that can do anything and everything with a smile,” he smiles softly at the memory, “ ‘The Unbeatable Leon’”

There's a short silence between the three. Raihan looks down at Leon with slightly widened eyes.

“ I….I didn't know that,” he mutters.

“ Of course you didn't. It was our secret. No one had to know,”

“ So…..” Piers speaks up, “ When we first met you that….was a persona?”

“....Kinda?” Leon thinks back some more, “ Sonia….she told me that Leon and Unbeatable Leon were one of the same. Both can do anything really- it's just that Unbeatable Leon was a tool to get me going, you know?” He frowns

“....I don't think she ever meant for it to become my entire being,”

“Lee…..that's not your fault,” Raihan lowers his hand to meet Leon's, giving it a small squeeze.

“ I know….but it's not her fault either,’

“ Obviously. Neither of you expected it to become a marketing tool,” Piers says curtly. Rose’s name is left unsaid, thankfully, but it still hangs in the air.

“ I…..should probably talk to her about it,” Leon sighs, “...Later. I can see you getting grumpy Piers”.

“ Excuse me for being tired and still wanting to comfort my boyfriend,”

“ Yeaaaah, we better get back to sleep” Raihan says with a smirk, “ We don't want you becoming a vampire again”

Leon doesn't suppress his giggles this time, chuckling to himself as Raihan gets back into his original spot.

“ I can't believe you're still on that” Piers huff.

“ And you don't deny it, so for all I know, I'm right~” Raihan fires back, only to be accompanied by a yawn.

That seems to do it. Whatever small banter that was starting to brew dies quietly.

And soon Leon is back to where he was before. But this time he finds himself growing tired himself, sleep easing into him, one last memory plays in his mind……

~~~~

“ Unbeatable? Me?” Leon asks meekly. Sonia smiles, and Leon feels his worries ease.

“ Yep! The Unbeatable Leon! Everyone will love it!”

“ Everyone…..” he shakes his head, “But! I never beat you in battle, Sonia! How can I-”

“ Because!” She cuts him off, “ I believe in you, silly. Someday everyone is gonna see how bright you really are, just like I do!” She snickers a bit, “ Who knows maybe you’ll be able to beat me in battle soon~”

“Sonia!” Leon whines, and Sonia simply laughs, moving in front of him.

She stands in front of the train station, a big smile with a hand outstretched.

“ So, Mr. Unbeatable…..you ready to go?”

Leon looks at his best friend, and the hand she lends out. Unbeatable Leon…..the guy who does everything and anything with a confident smile. Like her. Like Sonia. He beams, and takes Sonia’s hand.

“ You know it!”

#legendverse #uuuuuuuuh #i'm gonna be brave and main tag #champion leon #gym leader raihan #gym leader piers #pokemon sonia #chat what the fuck you call Leon x Raihan x Piers i freaking forgor #r writes

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microwave-core · 1 month

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Two for two on Leon posts written in the middle of the night where I promptly flop back into bed. I just think Leon has a lot of ship potential. I don't even ship characters much, I don't really ship Leon with anyone in particular, but he's got good matchs.

Like. You have Sonia. Classic setup of childhood friends who drifted apart from one another and reconnect years afterwards and find there is definitely some spark between them. (I also wholly believe that the two "dated" when they were kids, but because they were kids they didn't understand romance and just forgot about it entirely. Didn't even hold hands because ew cooties.)

And you also have Raihan. And it's like... they're rivals, what more should I say. It's not even a "bro you're making our esteemed rivalry look gay" situation, they can just so easily mesh as rivals AND bfs with minimal bending of canon.

Those are obviously the most popular two (unless I'm really out of the loop), but then you have the smaller ships that you don't see as much that still just work. Like, I don't see much of Leon and Piers together, but they work. Perfect human sunshine and brooding vampire combo. I can't think of the actual phrase to use but I think that gets the point across.

You could pin him up with Kabu, sure, Leon can get down with the foxy grandpa. Fuck it, you could put him with, like, Meloney, and it would be fine. He deserves to be with a milf, as a little treat. You could ship him with fucking Wes from Pokemon Colleseum for the Nintendo Gamecube and it would seem understandable. He would do that, your honor, keep scrolling.

idk i'm tired night

#pokemon #pokemon leon #champion leon #oh no... ship tags #lionheartshipping #truerivalshipping #why are pokemon ships names just so... not normal who makes these #desertsportshipping #<- i think thats the one for leon and wes??? maybe??#idk he is also just really easy for selfship/oc x canon sheningans bc he is very much perfect boyfriend material #like here is your wonderful champion of a man who's biggest flaw is his inability to be open and vulnerable with the people around him bc h #believes he has to be the best and strongest person who others rely on while never having problems himself #and guess what... you can fix him #more like you can help him open up i guess but the line is funnier #is it really a late night post from bae if i dont vomit in the tags?#also not proofreading this i will do it in the morn #kisses you on the forehead goodnight sugar i luv you #go to bed if you are sleepy or havent in awhile it is what leon would want

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desertsportshipping · 3 months

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As cute as Wes x Rui is, I could never get behind it because for me: Wes is very gay and Rui is either very straight or very in denial about being bi.

It is also important to mention that there are a lot of off handed comments from other NPCs that Wes and Rui are dating and I am a Contrary bitch.

#although one person on Ao3 suggested fem!wes x rui #which i can get behind #i love myself some healing yuri #also this is completely in my head but:#rui has a little bit of self preservation in her skull and probably would not be able to look past some of the things wes has done #leon is a little insane and does not care #like rui is jumping through mental hoops being like “the Wes i know wouldn't kill” despite the evidence #meanwhile Leon is like “yeah he killed those people but i love him so there”#i mean Leon became champion at age 10 #you cannot tell me that man is normal #anyways i just wanted to brain dump this so that my brain would let me go to bed #so imma go do that #plus a friend posted their ship art and i wanted to spread the word of fem!wes x rui without being annoying and sliding in their inbox #and I'm not about to dedicate a couple hours to 1 or 2 dedicated art pieces when I'm about to go to bed

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be-good-to-bugs · 1 year

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i miss the 3ds pokemon games

#the bin #playing sword bc my sister owns it. personally i would not pay for this garbage. im gonna play scarlet too bc she owns that aswell #it will continue to upset me that you cant have every pokemon in it. whats the point if playing pokemon if there is literally no possiblity #of having your fav in it? even popular ones like Greninja are left out. skitty is my fav and skitty isnt in it which sucks. im so sad #at least sv added my new second fav. the ponk one with the hammer is wonderful and immediately jumped to second place #apparently maractus is ih swsh but not sv but maybe an update will change it. even ignoring the missing pokemon tho sword still sucks #its annoying how they hold your hand constantly. also i hate leon. why do they insist on reminding you hes the 'unbeatable champion'#every time he is on screen. like his brother talks about it constantly. its super weird i hate it so much #i watched a playthrough already but its so much worse while you play. also im struggling with looking at the other rival who looks like an #old lady. because the clothes they wear have these circles on them but they feel too much like holes to me and i have to cover them with #my hand whenever they are on screen. watching a playthrough of this was genuinely harder than watching someone play bloodborne #ill probably use an emulator and play the 3ds ones. i have a 2ds and x and moon but i agreed to give them to my siblings #i dont really care much tho so whatever. and ill move simmy to sword so i can keep him

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helen-with-an-a · 19 days

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Short but Mighty

Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: R is short and a little angry

Word Count: 4.8k

“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”

“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”

“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”

“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”

“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”

“Like a chihuahua”

“And though she be but little, she is fierce”

You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.

At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.

Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.

It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.

Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.

“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.

“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.

“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.

“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.

“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.

“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.

“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.

“My card problem?” You snarked.

“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.

“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.

“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.

“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.

“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.

“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.

“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.

“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.

“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.

“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.

“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.

“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.

“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.

This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.

“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.

“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).

“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.

“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.

This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.

And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.

Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.

“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.

“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.

“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.

“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.

The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.

“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.

The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.

You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.

“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.

“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.

Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.

“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”

“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.

“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”

“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.

You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.

The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.

“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.

“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.

“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.

You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.

“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.

“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.

McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.

It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.

“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.

“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”

“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.

You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.

“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”

“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.

The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.

“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.

“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.

“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.

“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.

“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.

“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.

“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.

“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.

“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.

A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.

“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.

“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.

“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.

“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.

“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.

“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.

“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”

“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

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leah-lover · 2 days

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Two hearts, one timeline. Alexia putellas x reader

An age gap romance. Part 2

“ We are delighted to introduce you to this young star. She is a 2 time world cup champion, the youngest ever to achieve that. A 2 time NWSL winner. A final’s MVP and just overall an inspiration. Welcome to the show.” said the reporter next to you. The studio was quiet and all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. This wasn't the first time you were on TV but you were uncertain about the way the news you were about to deliver is gonna be perceived.

“ Thank you for having me.” you respond with a smile on your face.

“ After your recent NWSL win you were the talk of the sports world. Everybody is interested in whether you are gonna resign with your club or not. What do you say to those questions?”

“ Well I am sad to say that I will not resign with Seattle but very excited to say that a team I have been dreaming of joining has reached out to sign me. I have signed a 4 year contract with FC barcelona.”

“ Oh my god, that's exciting. Tell us how you feel at the moment.”

“ Well, I am very excited,but sad to say goodbye to my family in the states and at seattle. I think this challenge is gonna help me develop as a footballer and learn new styles.”

“ Well, we wish you good luck.”

“ Thank you.”

You exit the studio and the weight of the secret drops from your shoulder. You were gonna leave your home for a more competitive team and a shot at the chapion’s league.

Your move to Barcelona was smooth. You celebrated your run at your old club with the girls, took your flight the next day and landed in sunny Barcelona, the weather was as great as they all said. You then went directly to your new apartment. The time zone change weighed heavily on your body so you took a shower immediately, put your sheets in your new bed and laid down as soon as you could. You then opened your phone only for it to freeze due tha new messages and followers you received. You could see all the comments and messages your new teammates wrote on your post congratulating you on the signing and wishing well for you. This made you excited for your first day tomorrow.

When you woke up the next day you were nervous to say the least. You got ready, called a taxi and headed to the facility. You first got a tour of the facility which was empty because it was early. You met as much staff as you could, did your fitness and health test, a photoshoot, and shot some content. By the time you were done your teammates were done training too. You were ushered by the assistant coach to go to the field and meet everybody.

Your heart was beating like a drum. You were standing next to alexia putellas, aitana bonmati, lucy bronze, and mapi leon. Those people are more experienced and have more accolades than you.

“ Everybody please welcome our new signing from the US.” said your coach which caused all of them to start cheering.

“Hola a todos. Estoy emocionado de ser parte de este equipo, compartir el campo con todos ustedes y ganar algunos trofeos con ustedes.”

“Joder, hablas español y tus estadísticas son buenas, nos llevaremos muy bien.“ said patri putting her arm on your shoulder and guiding you inside.

“Si ella hablara catalán habríamos sido mejores amigas.” said aitana sarcastically.

The rest of the day went on great, you had lunch with the girls, you laughed with them, and exchanged stories. They welcomed you very well.

“ for a young girl you really carry yourself well.” said lucy

“ I had to grow up quickly.” you respond to her.

Your first month at Barcelona was amazing. You got on with the girls really well, training was going well, you had your first start within 2 weeks of your arrival and the fans were really happy with you after your first hattrick in the last match.

“Necesitamos celebrar tu primer mes exitoso con nosotros estrella.” said mapi while you were recovering in the gym. Estrella was the Spanish translation of the nickname the fans gave you when you were getting famous, which was stargirl. That nickname was used by everybody you knew, even the press. But from them it sounded different.

“ Yeah sure, just text me the details.” You responded.

You then went home, showered, and rested. You then got a message from the group chat.“ La terrazza. 8:00.”

Since they went there to celebrate you, you decided to show up and show out. You decided on a black maxi dress, heels, gold accessories, and a red lip.

You drove to the club and got there at 8 sharp. You went inside, and headed straight to the bar to order a drink. The girls started coming little by little, and by a few hours you were all jammed up dancing in the middle of the dance floor. However, your captain didn't join you; she instead opted to watch from the bar.

Alexia has been quiet and reserved around you. Maybe she didn't like you or maybe she was just a quiet person, you never really thought about it before.

“chicas voy a ir al baño.” You yell so that you can be heard over the loud music and exit the dance floor.

Surprisingly the bathroom was empty. You got your business done and went over to the mirror to fix your makeup.

“Parece que te lo estás pasando bien aquí en Barcelona..” said a voice from behind you which took you a minute to realize it was Alexia 's.

“ Capitana I am too drunk for Spanish right now.” You respond still facing the mirror

“ You look good. I mean happy in Barcelona.” She said nervously.

“ Well that's because of you and your friends out there. Actually it was more your friends than you since you hate me.” You respond l, alcohol making you braver than you usually are.

“ I could never hate you. I just can't control myself around you.” She says half whispering. “tengo que ir.” She added before she exited the bathroom.

“ This is definitely something I need to visit tomorrow when I am sober.” You say to yourself before joining the girls again. You were told that Alexia left which caused you to have more questions but you didn't give it much thought. You partied more with the girls before leaving.

Your head was pounding the next morning but you couldn't remember anything, only that you had a great time.

The following weeks were nothing short of spectacular. You were training well, winning every game, scoring every game, and you really built a community with the girls. But Alexia was giving you more space than usual which you couldn't understand why.

Jonathan could see that Alexia was cornering herself away from you so he decided to pair you with each other on everything under the excuse of her giving you more experience since she was older than you. She didn't talk when she was near you, she barely even touched you. This caused commotion in your brain. You lost sleep over why she despised you so much.

One day you had enough of the questions in your brain so you waited in the locker room knowing that she wouldn't come to it to avoid you. You stayed there af-ter all the girls left. After a while alexia entered the locker room

“ Have I ever done anything to offend you?” you ask as soon as you see her figure.

“ Mierda, me asustaste, pensé que no había nadie aquí.” she said taking a few steps back

“ capitana please just give a straight answer. What have I ever done to you?.”

“ We talked about this and my answer was nothing, the problem is in me.”

“ when did we talk about this i don't remember anything.”

“ that night at the party now will you please leave so that i can change and go home i am really tired.”

“ Alexia, this is eating away at me. All I want is for us to be friends or just teammates. Tell me what I did so that we can get past it.”

“ You did nothing, just get over it. You have plenty of friends.”

“No puc fer això ara mateix, és massa jove i hauria de proteger-la de mi” she whispers in catalan and leave without looking at you.

You didn't understand catalan but it was close to Spanish which you were fluent in so when you heard her words you could remember them easily. After she left you reached for your phone and translated her words. “ I can't do this right now. He is too young and should protect her from me.”

Alexia’s words shocked you. You felt dizzy and couldn't focus. You never realized that alexia could have anything for you except hate. You loved her and admired her for the player and person she is. You looked up to her kind heart and intelligent brain. But no matter what you thought about it you needed her approval, her attention, and her focus to be on you as much as you were on her. That's why her distance from you left you puzzled.

You knew that you couldn't stay like that, not when your brain was filled with questions that needed answering.

You left the training facility, and headed straight to Alexia's house.

Before knocking on her door your knees were weak and your brain was quiet. She opened the door mere moments later.

“ What did you mean by protecting me from you?” you asked as soon as she opened the door.

“ What are you doing here?” she asked.

“ What did you mean, alexia?”

“ i don't want to talk about this.”

“ well i do it's the only thing i have been thinking about.”

You force your way inside and she closes the door after you

“ You are not this passive aggressive. I know you. I heard alot about you. This thing you are hiding from me is killing me.” you say to her once she is in front of you.

“ Believe me when I say that I am protecting you.”

“ it's not your choice capitana. What are you protecting me from?”

“ I am protecting you from my feelings for you god damn it. We can't be together and that is all I have been thinking about. I have been thinking about you, your body, your laughter, your eyes. It’s driving me insane.” she yells as she slams the wall behind you.

You weren't shocked, you managed to keep your calm. You held onto her hand which was still on the wall. You backed up a little bit and didn't say a word.

“ this can't happen, you are 23, i am 30. I am older than you. I outrank you in the team. I just…”

“ i dont care.” you interrupt her still holding on to her arm. “ capitana i dont give a fuck. I want you. I need you. Do you want me?” you add.

“More than you'll ever know.” she whispers.

The air was still. The tension was high. You feel your body unintentionally move towards alexia. Your face was millimeters away from her you could feel her breath on your lips. You somehow got brave enough to kiss her. The kiss cut short because she pulled away.

“ please capitana i want this. I want you.”

She then kisses you deeply. Her need for you was apparent. She took control of all of you, not just your lips. She picked you up and walked towards her bedroom all while kissing you. She then threw you on her bed.

“ Are you sure estrella.” whispers

“ I never wanted anything more in this world.”

#woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #woso appreciation #woso request

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mercurycft · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐋𝐁

## lucy bronze x reader !!

Enjoy this cheeky little something something while I perfect the next chapter of ‘OFF LIMITS’.. This is probably my favourite thing I've written in a while, as well as the longest too! Love always! - RG! x

can you tell im a sucker for a ‘forbidden love’ type fic? contains: softtop!lucy. age!gap but i promise its entirely legal. thigh riding, fingering, praise, finger sucking.

3.3k words.

CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT & LANGUAGE 18+

“I swear on my life Leah, It isn’t a big deal!”

“And I swear on my life, I will volley him over the bar!” She slurred, pointing a firm finger in the direction of the ‘handsy’ bartender. Before the situation could get any more embarrassing, you pushed her away and towards the table with a timid and apologetic smile back in his direction. Alcohol tended to brew confidence in Leah. Her usual calm and quiet demeanour slipping away with every sip of her drink throughout the night.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head and patting her shoulder. “Sit down, before you get yourself in trouble.” You mumbled, raising your eyebrows to the other girls who sat around the table as Leah slumped herself next to Alex and started ranting. The other girls were tucked neatly around the booth - all of their faces plastered with an amused look as they watched on, disregarding their own conversations to try and listen in.

Most of her words were drowned out by the music, bass bouncing off the walls. From what you could hear, a slightly tipsy Leah had read the situation wrong - assuming the bartender had started flirting and ‘pushing his luck’ as she put it, when you had leaned in to hear him better. You shook your head and tried to stifle a laugh when she started defending herself, encouraged by the rest of the group who were highly entertained by the whole thing.

Leah was a funny drunk, a table-top dancer, shot-encourager and very clearly protective. It was admirable, but so funny. It was funnier, however, listening to her explain to the rest of the group. Her voice cracking and jumping octaves as she tried to shout over the music - throat becoming hoarse.

You stood from the booth after a few minutes, leaning across the back of the booth to pat Alex’s shoulder, bringing your lips into a tight line and holding in your laughs as she you left her stranded with a fuming, blonde companion. Making your escape and b-lining for the dance floor, where the rest of your friends were.

Leah, by nature is protective. The captain of the team, and now headed towards being a european champion. But before all of this, she was a big sister. Your big sister. You were only a year and a half younger but she made it her life mission to protect you and this wasn’t a role she took lightly. She looked after you, steering you out of harms way and at times, getting herself in trouble instead. Just like tonight.

You had been around football, and most of the girls, for a majority of your life. It was Leah’s passion, and it filled you with pride as she got to live her childhood dream. As a result, you and the rest of her teammates had spent a lot of time together - and you got on like a house on fire.

You went to most training sessions, filming content. You went to almost all matches, and her friends quickly became your friends. So when the group had gone out for celebrations, following the match that shot them straight into the semi- finals, naturally you were invited along.

You were now in the midst of the crowd of bodies. Drink in hand and arm in the air as everyone sang, no massacred, a Kings of Leon banger. Stomping their feet and dancing along, screaming. You were stood laughing between Lucy and Jordon - who were surprisingly joining in the chorus, arms strung around each other.

Waiting until the song ended and the room filled with cheers to poke your head between them both, shouting “Can I steal Lucy for a sec, mate?” Jordon simply laughed, leaning back in to reply with an ‘of course’ and shuffling away towards another group of the girls.

Before you could speak, her mouth was pressed to your ear as she tried to reach a hearable volume. “Tenner on your sister two-footing someone tonight!” You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes and shoving against her.

“That’s because you lot encourage her!”

“I do not! I simply tell her to express her anger how she sees fit!”

“Oh so in other words, encouraging!” You laughed back, sarcasm lacing your words. Lucy was always easy to talk to, a familiar face. Leah and Jordan spent a lot of time together, which meant Leah, Jordan and Lucy spent a lot of time together. It wasn’t unusual to find the three scattered around the living room on a Sunday, practically dead to the world, often after a particularly messy night.

“Tenner that we’ll be the ones carrying her back to her room later as well!” You added, clinking your glasses together as another song reeled through the speakers - greeted by a crowd of screams and cheers.

—————————

You were right, though you always were when it came to Leah. Now you stood inside the lift, Leah with one arm draped over your shoulder and the other over Lucy’s. You both tried to hold her up as best you could, which was hard when she was pretty much falling asleep between you.

It felt like three hours had passed when the three of you, four if you included an also drunk Jordon who was trailing behind the group with her head tucked into her phone, had finally made it their shared room. Scanning Leah’s key-card and dragging her through the door and getting her on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, her makeup was off and pjs on. Though that was mostly the work of you, physically having to peel her clothes off of her body and replace them without any help on her end as she dead-weighted against you. You did all this while Lucy put her phone on charge, and made sure she had a water bottle beside her bed for the night.

When you had finally put her to bed, Lucy spoke up from behind you. “Does this mean I owe you a tenner?” you scoffed at her remark, turning to face her.

“If that was the case, you owe me about a grand in bets since we met!”

“Oi, don’t even! I have definitely paid that back in all the takeaways I buy you and your bloody sister!”

“Touché, Bronze,” you grumbled back, turning to place a kiss on Leah’s forehead and say goodnight to Jordan, who was laid beside her and almost asleep before you had even left the room.

When you got outside and shut the door behind you, you looked towards Lucy to thank her for her help and apologise for ripping her away from the party, but were met with her hand already lifted to stop you. “Don’t even say it, you know I don’t mind.”

You smiled at her, taking a deep breath and checking the time on your phone. “Shit, I need to get an uber. I’ll text you in the morning?” You said, looking up periodically from your phone whilst typing in your address.

“Why don’t you just stay here? I don’t think I like the idea of you in a taxi alone this late,” She started, checking the time on her phone. “It’s past 2, absolutely not.” She confirmed, shaking her head and pulling out her own key-card. “Just stay with me. I’ll get you a taxi in the morning,”

“It’s fine! I’ll just hop in with the girls-”

“If Leah finds out I let you get in a taxi, she will actually punch me in the face.”

“You do have a point..”

The pair of you had started walking through the hall by this point, still arguing lowly at the idea of you in a taxi alone. Lucy didn’t take no for an answer, swiping her card and unlocking her room. “If you don’t go and get in that bed right now I will call your mother.” She pressed, teasing. Her accent seemed to get thicker with the presence of alcohol in her system.

“Oh really..” You shot back folding your arms together across your chest, challenging her. You watched as she fumbled with her phone, mumbling some sarcastic comment under breath while pulling up your mum’s contact and hovering her finger over the call button.

“Don’t make me wake Amanda up..”

“Fine!” You caved, scurrying into the room and holding your hands up in defence. She followed close behind, pleased with herself and shutting the door behind her.

Once in the room you sat on the bed, undoing your shoes and chucking them in some direction away from you - you didn’t care, as long as they were off. You got up to wash your face, wincing when the soles of your feet met flat on the floor. “Fucking heels,” You whispered, walking to the bathroom in a huff.

When you emerged back into the room, Lucy was already changed. Shorts and a sports bra now adorning her tanned body, you had to shake yourself out of the moment as you stared at her back. Admiring the toned muscles as she dug through her suitcase, turning briefly to throw something towards you.

“Put that on,” It was short, but sounded sweet and made you smile internally. Turning back towards the bathroom to strip and put the shirt she had given you on. It was a football top with ‘BRONZE’ plastered across the back of your shoulders, but it did the job and was comfier than your outfit previously.

You stood in the bathroom for a few moments, pulling your hair into a ponytail before shutting off the light and making your way back to the bed. “Left or right?” You questioned.

“What?” She looked at you, her glasses now perched on the bridge of her nose snd you swore you felt your insides shift.

“Uh- Side of the bed? Left or right?” You stammered, pointing towards the sheets.

“Whatever tickles your fancy, I don’t have a side,” She shrugged back, trying to contain her smirk when she caught you looking at her for a second too long.

You made a fake disgusted face back to her, scrunching your nose. “You’re such a freak, who doesn’t have a side of the bed?”

“Me, obviously.” She retorted, rolling her eyes sarcastically.

You had opted for the side closest to the window, walking around the bed with your back to Lucy. She had to stop herself from audibly groaning at the sight of her name printed across your shoulder blades, unable to tear her eyes away. Lucy would be lying if she said she didn’t find you attractive, because you were and she did.

When you had rounded the bed, you pulled at the linens. Yanking them up and over your body as you got comfortable in the bed, sinking into the mattress and sighing when your head hit the pillow - facing the other side of the bed which was yet to be occupied.

—————————

The bed dipped beside you after a few minutes,and Lucy shuffled under the covers next to you after faffing about the room. Flicking the light switch above her bedside table to turn off the lights, your phone now the main source of light.

You lowered your phone to shine in her face, smiling when you were greeted with a smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a Williamson in my bed,” She quipped, winking dramatically as you faked a gag.

“Gross! I’m going to tell then you told me that,” you replied, laughing and turning to place your phone on the table beside you. You faced the window, the curtains closed but still allowing some light from a lamp outside to peak through. With your back now to Lucy, she had a full view of her name once again. “Goodnight Lucia..” You whispered into the dark, sighing contently into the silence.

“Goodnight,” She replied, still scanning your back. Noticing how the shirt sat bunched above your hips, revealing a slither of your back and the lace of your underwear - sucking in a breath at the sight alone. You felt her hand skim gently across the letters on the top, smiling into your pillow.

She had gotten closer, her arm now slung across your waist and holding you against her. Time had passed but still you were awake, and you knew she was too. The loud thrumming in your chest prohibiting any chance of sleep, when you felt her presence beside your ear.

You could feel her breath on your neck as she leaned in towards you slowly, whispering a small “Is this okay?” as her lips lingered over the skin below your ear, awaiting your answer. You nodded and she moved closer, pressing her lips against your neck softly.

They were tender but calculated and you breathed heavily out into the room when she kissed along your shoulder, dragging her teeth over the material of her jersey. You waited a few more minutes before turning over to face her, flushed. Taking a deep breath and looking into her eyes, your faces were close. Closer than you realised. So close you could see every groove, every line and feature. Lips no more than centimetres apart.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

That was all she needed, bringing her lips to press against yours. Hand still gripping your waist and guiding your frame to lay flush against hers as your hands moved to cup the back of her neck and head, lips moving in sync.

The next few minutes were a blur of movement and small, breathy giggles and now you sat on her lap - straddling the top of her thighs with your mouths still connected. The kiss was now a mixture of desperation and yearning, hands grabbing at whatever skin they could find beneath the sheets.

Her head dipped, kissing and nipping at the skin of your jaw and along your throat. You couldn’t help but whimper when her teeth grazed a particularly sensitive patch of skin, right where your neck and collar bone met. You could feel her smirk against you, which only made the feeling in the pit of your stomach worse.

—————————

You had tried to remove your top, well her top, but were met with a protest telling you to keep it on. Her skin on fire at the thought of you wearing her name as you sat now desperate on top of her.

Your hair was now down, and one of her hands sat roughly in the roots. Tugging at the stands to guide you against her mouth, when she felt you start to rock your hips against her. Eliciting a guttural moan from the back of her throat.

She used the hand still on your waist to slow your movement to a stop, moving to lift you up and over until you straddled one of her thighs. The only barrier between you both was your underwear, and when you shifted your weight she felt your wetness graze against her. Smirking and pulling away to look at your face.

“You wanna ride my thigh, darling?” She whispered, eyes locked on yours as you enthusiastically nodded. Eyes glazed over, and eyebrows furrowed with need. She smiled at the action, moving her fingers to push your underwear aside and lift her thigh to meet your warmth. Groaning when she felt you coat her thigh.

You moaned at the contact, your clit already sensitive and throbbing. You didn’t know how she did it, how she had you wrapped around her finger and laying in the palm of her hand but you loved every second of it. Mouth falling agape when she began guiding you up and down the length of her thigh, rocking your hips against her.

“Does that feel good baby?” She asked from your neck, her lips stopping their sloppy kisses for a second. You whimpered in response, nodding slowly. Her hand met your jaw in a swift but gentle motion, pulling you to focus on her. “Use your words, love.”

“Yes it feels good, Luce..” You whispered, licking your lips. Head falling back as you worked her thigh, the sound of your wetness protruding through the quiet of the room and accompanied by the sound of laboured breathing from below you.

“Good girl..” She added, jaw clenched when she attached her lips to your neck again. You savoured the feeling, the delicious feeling as you dragged yourself against her skin moving to tuck your head into her neck.

“Need more, Luce..”

“Hm? What’s that?” She was egging you on, hands moving to squeeze at the flesh of your thighs. Helping you rut against her.

“Want your fingers..” You confessed, dragging your own teeth along her shoulder now - biting down against the skin when you felt your face flush.

She had you flipped in seconds, now towering over you as you laid flat against the bed helping her shimmy your underwear off. Once gone, she spread your legs - moaning at the sight of your juices dripping and now covering the inners of your thighs. You blushed at the sound, biting your lip to muffle any noises you were concerned about making in response.

You felt her fingers next, sweeping through your folds and drawing tight circles around your clit. Moaning when she pressed the pads of her fingers harder into the bundle of nerves, finding it humorous as your body responded to her touch.

“Please,” You begged, hips rising off the bed in a desperate act for more friction. She shut the down quickly, using her free hand to pin your hips back to the mattress.

“Please what, darling..” Lucy stalled, slowing down to an unbearable speed. “What do you want..?” She added lowly, coaxing you out of your shell.

“Want you to fuck me.. Please..” You squirmed, knees now bent and sat on either side of your hips - inviting her in. You felt as she slowly and carefully slipped in a single finger, watching your face contort before she added another.

Stretching you out perfectly and starting to move them methodically inside you. Pulling out the perfect amount before pushing them back inside, curling up against your tight walls to press against your g-spot.

Her pace and pressure increased with the volume of your sultry moans, back arched into her touch and face buried in your arms as her fingers pressed perfectly inside of you. Bringing her thumb to toy with your clit, salivating as she watched you take her.

She could feel you squeezing around her fingers, becoming breathless as you chased your orgasm - chest rising with every thrust of her fingers. “You gonna cum for me?” She asked, her free hand lifting to the side of your face to force you into eye contact.

“Y-Yes,” You stuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head when her fingers curled. Mouth hung open and hips riding against her fingers.

“Show me how you cum, baby..”

That was all it took for you, orgasm crashing through your body and shaking through your limbs. Legs thrashing around her hand as you came, back arched and screaming out her name - which caused her to smirk, watching you intensely.

Lucy let you ride it out, only stilling her thrusts when your back finally laid against the bed again - catching your breath when you heard her chuckle deeply. Bringing her fingers up to your mouth and slipping them past your lips, admiring how you took them and started working against them. Pulling away with a pop when you felt they were clean, and looking up at her.

A deafening silence engulfed the room, as Lucy fell beside you on the bed. She turned on her side to face you and handed you a towel she had grabbed, which you accepted gracefully and did what you could.

“Jesus..” You whispered, testing the air.

“That’s not my name..” She threw back, earning a weak laugh. There was the normal Lucy you had grown to love, you thought whilst lifting your hand to swat at her chest.

“Let’s maybe not tell Leah about this..”

“Agreed.”

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Tattoos

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have pens

"Sorry," Mumma says as she bounces you on her hip," She's in a grumpy mood today."

You grunt, angling your head away as Tia Patri tries to rub at your cheek.

"Very grumpy," Tia Patri notes before smiling at you anyway and waving you goodbye.

"Okay," Mumma says, readjusting her grip on you so you can tuck your head into the crook of her neck," There we go. I think someone needs a little nap."

"No," You whine," No nap...jus'...jus' you. Jus' Mumma."

"Okay," Mumma agrees," Just Mumma."

You've been out of whack ever since the flight over for the semifinal Champion's League match. Mapi's still returning from her knee injury so she's been dropped to the bench and continues her rehab even though she's on the squad list so Ingrid's kind of been solo parenting for a bit.

It's not that Mapi won't help but she very much can't do things like play rough with you like you enjoy or bounce you on her knee to calm you down.

Ingrid hasn't done that a lot since she started dating Mapi, who dived head-first into things like that in an attempt to win you over.

"Mamí too," You insist as you whine out a low note.

"Are you having big feelings?" Ingrid asks as she fishes out her phone to ask where Mapi is.

You nod tiredly against her, practically limp but still with enough energy to kick and snap your displeasure.

Ingrid wonders if it's a lack of stimulation. The plane ride had been long and you didn't have any of your usual things to keep you occupied.

Your story books had all been packed in the big suitcase (the last time Ingrid will ever trust Mapi to pack your bags) and your colouring book and felt tip pens had been deemed too messy for you to use on the flight. That coupled with your inability to stay asleep for more than twenty minutes, means that you're exhausted and bored.

It's a dangerous combination.

Ingrid shoots off a text to Mapi about the situation and walks the length of the hallway, quietly hushing you and allowing you to suck at her collar even though she knows that it's going to feel bad against her skin later on.

Mapi replies quickly, saying that she's in the canteen with Alexia.

"Mumma," You whine as Ingrid makes for the elevator," No go out! No want!"

"We're not going out," Ingrid assures you but the damage is already done because the exhaustion and the boredom finally catch up with you and you burst into a round of frustrated tears.

Ingrid bounces you more firmly as you babble and sob and whine all the way down. The staff sends her sympathetic looks, some of them having children themselves, and the rest of the team look equally distraught as you clearly feel when Ingrid (frazzled and stressed) bursts into the canteen.

Mapi's at the table in the corner, a packet of temporary tattoo pens by her side as she transfers a sketch from her book onto Alexia's arms.

Alexia's been talking about getting another tattoo and Mapi had drawn up designs easily.

She's animatedly talking about the one she's transferring to Alexia's arms interspersed with flicking through the book to show alternative ideas.

She stops immediately though as your cries echo through the room and Ingrid approaches.

"What happened?" She asks," What's wrong? Is she hurt? Sick? She had that tummy bug a few weeks ago. Is it back?"

"She's having some big feelings," Ingrid replies, sitting down next to Mapi," I think she just wants some company while working through them. Look, she's already calming down."

She's right.

Your gasping breaths are evening out again and the tears roll down your face mostly silently. With your Mumma and Mamí now together, you're happy to just sag against Mumma and allow Mamí's conversation with Tia Ale to wash over you.

You slowly reach out for the pink pen that's resting on the table. You pick it up. Mamí doesn't use the pink a lot, especially when she's drawing ideas on people like she's doing with your Tia.

Mumma leans with you as you angle yourself towards Mamí's arms where some of her tattoos are on show.

"Open," You tell Mumma, your voice a little scratchy from all your crying and general unease. Mumma takes the lid off for you.

You press the tip against Mamí's arm, taking a lot of care to colour in the lines of the pictures she's got there.

She stops drawing on your Tia when she first feels the press of the nib against her skin.

You give her a little teary eyed smile when she catches your eye.

"Following in your footsteps," Mumma says fondly, finally able to plait your hair into a neat braid," Little tattoo artist."

"Yeah," Mamí agrees, moving to uncap all the pens on the table," Make sure to get in as many colours as possible, alright?"

You nod.

Mamí continues to draw on Tia Ale as you continue to colour in her tattoos.

The repetitive action soothes you and you make pretty swirls in her arm pictures even after she's finished showing Tia Ale her designs.

"Finished?" She asks.

You nod. "Finished."

"Ingrid," Mamí says," Take a picture of this." She flexes her arm. "I want to brag to everyone about how much more exciting she's made my arm."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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onsomenewsht · 2 months

Text

now playing: What Can I Do

< track 4 || track 6 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Barcelona Femeni x Reader

》 words count: +2.8k

》 I don't know if you see us how I do in my head

Four years of studying all the finest details of the ways she acts and moves

“She does it on purpose”

Ingrid smiles at your whining, enjoying the easy banter growing day by day between you and her girlfriend.

But yes, she’s doing it on purpose. All the girls know, and the ones currently in the parking lot with the three of you aren’t even trying to hide their laughs. You recognise Alexia’s soft one without taking your eyes off the defender.

María is going on a rant about all the places you need to see in Madrid since the team is going to play Atlético on the weekend. As if you’re not gonna be free there for a couple of hours and you still understand close to nothing of what she’s saying in the first place.

You have no doubt she insists on speaking exclusively in Spanish just to annoy you, she’s perfectly aware you can’t even order a coffee without the barista trying to hide a giggle at your scrambled words.

“You have to practise, she’s helping”, it’s cute she’s trying to defend her girlfriend.

“She’s a broken record”

As a matter of fact, or just to prove her point, the Spaniard’s voice is a constant background noise - from the walk toward the training centre, all the way through the changing room, and till the first stretching exercises.

You will never accept a ride from the couple, ever again.

“Mapi, give the girl a break! I’m exhausted and I’m not even listening”

You like Keira, Keira is funny in a comfortable way. Ingrid and her are the only ones able to buffer María’s enthusiasm when they notice you get overwhelmed by the language or you’re just too tired to deal with her energy.

“¡Y ni te entiende!” (And she doesn’t even understand you)

“Necesita practicar su Español” (She needs to practise her Spanish)

“She’s still here”, you try to calm your teammates’ excitement as soon as you notice more girls are gathering around you.

They planned a movie night at your place anyway, they will have time and space to bother you all they want later.

You need to focus on your exercises right now, despite the elegant and defined movements that keep catching your attention on the small training area.

Alexia is stretching just a couple of metres away from you, talking with Marta and Irene while casually controlling a ball with her foot. Somehow, there’s always a football around her.

The punch Mapi directs at your ribcage - powerful, and quite frankly uncalled for - manages to knock the wind out of you, drawing attention and a laugh from your teammates, but a glare from Jonatan.

The red all over your face is surely due to the blonde’s hit, nothing else.

“Just hit her back”

“And add fuel to the fire?”

“¿Qué?”, Alexia’s eyebrow rises.

She’s closer to you now, you both like to be at your manager’s left side when he’s explaining the tactics he wants to review as his hands’ gestures are clearer.

You’re going to start the next game, he made an all scene the previous day to let you know that, so you should listen to what he’s saying.

“Nothing. I tried, she gets more annoying”

“María Leon masterclass”

She’s distracting, her smile is lighting up the whole training centre. You definitely have to listen to your manager.

You’re slowly but securely finding your place in this new club. The press is still talking about the fact you came out of nowhere, and the online comments are still questioning if you deserve to be here in the first place.

Your last season in Italy was fun to say the least, managing to stand up against the big ones and earning with your team a place for the Champions League group stage. You were a little disappointed when a loan was hanging over your head once again, but when Barcelona knocks at your door you open the windows too.

Games spent warming the bench, minutes after minutes, your confidence grows. Your positioning around some of the best players in the world is getting better and easier, the balls you play moving faster and flawlessly.

You’re finding your place, both on and off the field.

“¿Estás en la luna?”

“Eh?”

The Catalan has to fake a cough to hide her laugh at your confused face, immediately fixing her stoic one and nodding at what Jonatan is saying as if nothing happened.

No need to say you’re matching the red training top, her smile is contagious.

The rest of the session goes on without any more accidents, you need to avoid Mapi and pair with Ingrid or Irene to survive but you manage. Even if most of your passes somehow end up finding a certain blonde in the final scrimmage.

The field is now free of all equipment, your teammates heading toward the changing room.

All but one.

Alexia’s hanging back, not leaving the training ground with the excuse to collect some of the balls left behind. She doesn’t need to do that, obviously. But she does. She takes the time with each ball, feeling it around her feet and controlling them as second nature.

You know because you leave the balls around for her.

As the one and only newcomer, you take upon yourself the task of helping the trainers to put the equipment away after each session. You’re happy to do that, it’s a way to become familiar with the place and the people working here.

You noticed her habit of looking around for some balls before leaving the field so you started to hide a few for her to find.

If she knows, she doesn’t say anything or care.

Three years of falling asleep with your hand on her chest, her heartbeat as the only lullaby that can make you rest

Your house is filled with loud Spanish girls, gathered around the living room and screaming at the TV like the people inside the box can actually hear their strong opinions.

This particular dating show is getting largely famous among your teammates, some of them organising watching parties to live comment together.

It’s Alexia’s turn to host and, surprisingly to no one, she’s actually hosting at your house.

You’re not even into this show in the first place, they talk too fast for you to understand and you don’t really get who is actually flirting with who. But the relationship with the Catalan is growing so naturally and strongly, also around funny misinterpretation in Spanish and tender touches that linger a bit too long and a bit too frequently to be just friendly, so it feels meant to be.

“¡No me lo creo, cuando le dio un beso?!” (You’re kidding, when did they kiss?!)

You offered the place without really thinking about it, she’s supposed to spend the night here anyway. How bad could it be to have half a dozen of your friends around for a bit?

“¡Joder, qué cabrón!” (What a fucking asshole!)

“Tiene más cuernos que un rebaño”

“¡Llepaculs!”

Really bad, apparently.

Jana and Ona are literally jumping on your sofa over something a broad guy just said, definitely the wrong thing given their reaction. Claudia is muttering under her breath all night, you have no idea what she’s actually on about but Patri, sitting on the floor next to her, sometimes bursts out laughing so you let them be. Mapi is on the far side of the sofa, a frown between her eyebrows when she’s not making her opinion loud and clear - Ingrid is out with Frido tonight, that must be it. Even Marta is getting more and more involved in the shenanigans.

It must be a great episode.

Alexia, on the other hand, is paying no attention to the screen.

You try to let the girls be, entertaining yourself in the kitchen making snacks for them, but every time you excuse yourself the blonde is ready to drag you back, fitting your body between her legs.

All things considerate, you’re enjoying the show your friends are putting on in your living room. They’re loud and funny and passionate, but they’re also loyal and warm.

Your girlfriend’s hands are warm too, finding their place under the royal blue hoodie you are wearing. Her fingers are drawing patterns on your ribcage, sometimes letters and sometimes abstract figures. She’s not even watching the TV, she’s smiling at the way you’re taking the scenes around you in, and how your body reacts when she’s caressing a particular spot.

Hosting this watching party was such a bad idea.

When another yawn catches you unprepared, you hide your face in the hollow of her neck, a grin spreading on Alexia’s face. You can feel her lighting up.

“Cansada?” (Tired?)

“Too late for Spanish”

“Nunca es un buen momento para ti” (It’s never a good time for you)

“Watch your silly little soap opera and let me sleep, Putellas”

Alexia has to suppress her laugh, catching on to the stress in the room since the episode is coming to an end and no one is happy with the outcome.

She turns your body closer against hers, your friends too distracted to realise you now take most of the couch and you’re practically lying on top of her. The blonde doesn’t mind though, holding you firmly.

When she feels your hand grips her shirt’s front, she knows you’re gone for tonight.

You don’t hear your teammates leaving your house, their disappointment about the episode is easily replaced by teasing of the lovely scene. The Catalan doesn’t need words to scold them, not moving from her position but promising revenge in the next training session.

Mapi is the last one to leave, taking her time to tease her friend and silently admire how happy and comfortable the two of you look.

“¡Vete María!” (Leave!)

“Estás actuando como el dueño de la casa, ¿lo sabes?” (You’re acting a lot like the owner of the house, you know?)

The red on Alexia’s face is starting to spread and her friend needs to leave before she says something that’s gonna be stuck in the captain’s head.

“Un mal dueño también, no acompañar tu invitados a la puerta” (A bad host too, not even walking your guests out)

It’s a pillow that escorts the defender out, hitting the closing door all the way through your living room.

Two years of heading to a future that appallingly looks a lot like the same for the both of you

“¿Quieres un bebé?” (Do you want a kid?)

At Alexia’s question, you almost choke on the glass of wine you’re drinking.

It’s the off-season, it’s such a beautiful sunny day, it’s a dreamy vacation you gifted each other with. Why is she trying to kill you?

“Right now?”, you manage to find your words, red wine now spread all over your linen shirt.

She better buy you a new one.

“No, mi amor, not right now”, she hands you her jacket, failing to hide her amusement and her blush.

Her smile is soft and full of affection, and you never loved someone like you love her - even if she almost killed you.

“¿Sólo por curiosidad?” (Are you asking just out of curiosity?)

“You were cute with those girls at the beach”

“I’m always cute with kids”

“Sí, tienes razón” (Yeah, you’re right)

“But?”, you’re getting nervous about where this conversation’s heading.

You just wanted to enjoy a nice date out with your beautiful girlfriend in a fancy restaurant on the other side of the world.

You both deserve some time for each other, last season was exhausting and you both played more minutes than you were supposed to due to her bothering knee and your extra hours both for club and country.

You didn’t see such a conversation coming, you still feel sand on your skin and the sun sparkling in Alexia’s eyes.

“I’m not asking to make a kid tonight”

“We could definitely try though”

“I’m asking if you want kids in the future”, she smiles and she’s playing with her hands like she just confessed stealing candies from said kids.

“Quiero un bebé un día, ya lo sabes” (You know I want a kid one day)

“¿Conmigo?” (With me?)

You reach for her across the table, holding her hand between yours like your entire existence depends on it, on letting her understand how important she is in your life and how much your life together meant for you.

Alexia looks so insecure you’re almost scared of what’s happening in her mind, she knows you want kids once your career comes to an end and she knows you are in for the long run with her.

“Mírame, mi corazón” (Look at me)

“Mamá y Alba made jokes y noー”

“Quiero un bebé contigo, Alexia” (I want a kid with you)

“Sì?”

“To be honest, I dreamed about a little you running around and kicking a ball barefoot, but then the ball was your Ballon d’Or, and turned into a rocket destroying the entire house, so I didn’t feel like mentioning it”

The waitress interrupting you must sense there’s an important conversation happening, the blonde is giggling with tears in her eyes and you are barely sitting on your chair. He clears the table and nicely suggests the house’s dessert, you nod but ask for a couple of minutes.

“We can start trying tonight”

You love her open laugh.

One year of trying to tell yourself that nothing changed about the way you feel of your life here, of your life here with her

Every time you close your eyes you see the ring Alexia’s hiding in a fucking shoe box.

One time, when she’s away for a photoshoot with a magazine you don’t even remember the name of, you find yourself digging into the closet for the velvet box, unsure of everything.

It fits perfectly, it’s the perfect ring.

You take it off so fast you’re scared you ripped your own finger too.

It’s getting all too much.

You’re sleeping less and when you do, you’re restless and anxious. It doesn’t matter what you cook, it all tastes wrong in your mouth. You’re ignoring your friends and finding lame excuses to avoid nights out that don’t involve all the team.

The only thing you’re able to focus on is football.

You’re training harder, playing faster and decisively, spending more and more time on the pitch and in the gym, picking up extra training sessions.

You can ignore your mind if your body is louder.

But you love Alexia too much to ignore her.

When she speaks about a contract extension, about how happy she’s to captain the team for another three years and to be recognized for her pivotal role, you listen and match her enthusiasm. You’re so proud of her. You’re proud of what she achieved in Barcelona, what she means for the club and for the city and for the future of the game.

Even if you’re thinking your time wearing the Blaugrana colours is fading, seeking a new challenge elsewhere to prove you learned from the best ones and you can now play against them.

You’re extending your stay in Barcelona just to be close to Alexia.

When she points out you need to start practising your Catalan too, because she wants your kids to speak her first language and understand her culture, you think it is admirable how strong she feels about her home and her roots. You want that for your kids too.

Even if you miss your home country and sometimes you have to remember you have your own roots and culture and memories, ending up speaking to yourself in the bathroom mirror just to make sure you didn’t forget your own language.

You’re ignoring your homesickness just to be where Alexia’s heart is.

When she shows you how much she loves you and the life you’re living and the future you’re building together, you take all the affection and support and care because you’re so happy you’re still able to give her it all.

Even if you know you’re loving her more than you’re loving your life.

You’re hating yourself just to be in love with Alexia.

There’s not a single doubt about your love for Alexia. You love her the way writers seek the right words for their poems, and sailors fight the worst storms just to get back home, and kids pick the brightest colours for their drawings.

You love her so much that there’s no way you can leave her.

However, you can’t pretend anymore that Barcelona is your future, this city is not your home and this culture is not yours to feel.

That’s how you find yourself with a one-way flight ticket, running away from the only place you can leave without guilt.

You leave Barcelona because that’s how you’ll find yourself again - how you’ll love yourself again.

You don’t regret leaving Barcelona, you regret losing Alexia in the process.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #barcelona femeni #barcelona femini x reader #woso #ap11 #here we go again #this one was a journey #mistakes all mine #my wo(rd)so #now playing universe #Spotify

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samkerrworshipper · 7 months

Text

My Masterlist

Leah Williamson -

seeing her tonight, it's a bad idea right?

just some friends with benefits smut that’s ends with confessions of love

medication

r stops taking their anxiety medications during the euros finals to get rid of three side effects… but what happens when it seriously effects them on the pitch

let me love you

r struggles after her and leah break up after some drunken kisses with other people… can they mend it all before r’s health is seriously affected?

the call up

when r gets the news notification from the Spanish federation regarding the forced call up the espwnt

safe and sound

r having suicidal thoughts and leah just being there to support them and be there for them

playgirl

friends to lovers smut w cocky as fuck playgirl leah who secretly only has eyes on r

losing

what happens when r loses for the first time?

asthma attacks

what happens when r has a asthma attack whilst Leah’s out for the night?

i will wait for you.

r gets injured in the champions league final and finds herself pushing out everyone, is it to late to make up with the people that matter most?

lost cause

r doesn’t want to do life anymore… leah’s there to make it all better and let her know how loved she is

tourniquet

r struggles with self harm and Leah helps her with it in theee different examples

pain, sweet, pain.

leah’s return from her acl injury is nothing like what she wanted nor expected, but her team are there to help her up when she’s down.

beautiful girl series (leah + jordan as coparents)

part 1 -> close you’re eyes: leah and jordan’s daughter is struggling after their breakup

part 2 -> have no fear: jordan and r have a heart to heart and somethings are revealed

part 3 -> the monsters gone: leah confronts her daughter

part 4 -> she’s on the run: r runs away

part 5 -> and your moms are here: reconciliation

Lucy Bronze -

mamacita

jersey smut with lucy after winning

daddy?…. sorry

just a little drabble about dom daddy lucy

a shoulder to cry on

lucy is there for r after she has a career shattering injury

euro champs and abs

lucy’s prize for winning the euros

leg shakes and body aches pt.2^

after care for the fic above

epiphany

random grief drabble - more r focused then lucy tbh but if u want a good cry then readdd

Alexia Putellas -

movie night

cheek voyeurism smut with r and alexia at team movie night

lap dance

stripper smut with Alexia after the world cup

on the sidelines

wag Alexia on the sidelines for wnba girlfriend

i remember everything

r struggles with eating disorder… alexis is to absorbed in her own life to notice.. what are th consequences?

the party

songfic based off the song the party & the after party by the weeknd… pure filthy smut

exile

songfic based off the song exile by taylor swift

the last time (pt.2^)

Alexia tries to apologise to r after what happened at the club… another songfic based off the song the last time by taylor swift

between thighs

just a little quickie fic

back between villages

alexia tears her acl.

sugar, baby

u have a little arrangement with la reina

Sam Kerr -

cock blocked

team night with the arsenal girls who r keeping you from being thoroughly fucked by your girlfriend

smut headcanons

just smutty dom headcanons with sammy k

a whore’s punishment

literal smutty porn without plot… that’s it.

concealed

little drabble about sam concealing a strap during a photo shoot

the phone call

based off the scene in the uswnt doc with the different call ups except sam x reader coded

acls

based off sam’s acl injury :(

Katie Mccabe -

nails

katie comes home from ireland camp with a new set of nails and she shows you just how much she can do even without using her hands or

Mapi Leon -

massage therapy

mapi gets injured… reader tries to resolve some of the tension in her body

warmed

cockwarming… that’s about it

Alexia Putellas x Reader x Lucy Bronze -

twos a company, threes a crowd

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 |

pure filth between my three girlies

Leah Williamson x reader x Lia Wälti -

all yours

just a little friends to lovers angsty fic about lia and leah getting together when the three have always been best friends and r struggling with it

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen -

long distance

touch starved and anxious reader who’s been away from mapi and ingrid for a while and needs a reminder just how much the love her

Vivianne Miedema x Beth Mead -

bad days

Viv has a bad anxiety day… Beth’s there for her no matter what

Kristie Mewis x Sam Kerr -

pinky promise?

little anxiety fic about kristie stressing about meeting Sam’s parents for the first time

wet dream

kristie can’t sleep.. sam has a wet dream..

Lia Wälti x Alexia Putellas -

captains connection

sometiems the captains are the ones who need the most help after games..

auswnt -

togetherness

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3

just some tillies angst and fluff

arsenal women -

found family

r goes out in the snow and gets really sick, but is scared to bother their arsenal teammates, two captains show up at their door after them not showing up to training for a few days and help them out and show them just how much the team loves them

homework help

when r moves to england she struggles with the adjustment of new school… arsenal team are there for her though

sticker chart

r and kyra r the pranksters of the team… but what happens when they take it too far and the arsenal parents seperate them as a result

revival

arsenal reader has been struggling more than she’d ever admit.. when it becomes to much she attempts to take her life but her teammates refuse to let her kill herself when she has so much more to live for.

hard times

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

narcotics

reader has a drug problem.. her arsenal teammates help her to realise and overcome it

barca women -

suffer in silence

r struggles with self harm after the problems with the spanish federation.. mapi, ingrid, lucy and alexia are there to pick up the broken pieces

exhausted

insomnia reader with concerned alexia

initiation

pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3

yk just a casual barca orgy fix

#woso #woso community #lionesses #leah williamson #marry me rn #sam kerr #kristie mewis #lucy bronze #sam kerr x reader #auswnt #lucy bronze x reader #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas #katie mccabe #mapi leon

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bettertwin1 · 1 year

Text

↳ ❝ ...But the truth is I need them . ❞

☄. *. ⋆ Welcome to my bbg blog ! ☆

The name is Hamato Leonardo (He/She/They/Starself), and I am everyone's FAVORITE TURTLE (if i'm not yes I am), Battle Nexus champion, and most important of all, the funniest most handsomest turtle on the team !

I'm an alter in a system (Aged 14-18). Most of what I post here is based on source memories, but sometimes fictional stuff / improv is involved ♡

『 La Familia Oficial 』

➽ @bettertwin9000 💜

➽ @mystic-mikey 🧡

➽ @hamatored ❤️

➽ @ratjitsu 🤍

The blogs listed above are the blogs involved with this account! In other words, these are the "official" blogs! And ofc, because this was an issue before, we do not own ask blogs 💀 so please don't go around attacking other rottmnt character themed ask blogs on 'our behalf', thank you~☆

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Playlists ;

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Special Dedication ;

➽ @madmutts [they drew the image, and they're also our surrogate dad 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶]

➽ @raphle [biggest brother and always looking after the pack 🫶🐺]

☆ Click keep reading to see boundaries ☆

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Art Boundaries ;

★ Our art is free to use by anyone and everyone so long as you give credit where credit is due. If you are looking and asking for specifics, though;

Profile Pictures and Banners ; Credit is not needed for this, but it is very appreciated!

Reposting on sites such as X (formerly known as Twitter) , Instagram , Tumblr , Tiktok , Youtube, and Pinterest ; Credit is needed / required, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OUR ART W/O CREDIT ON THESE SITES!

Selling our Art as stickers / prints etc ; ABSOULTELY NOT 💀 PLEASE DON'T DO THIS LMAO? Unless we're business partners there is no reason for you to be doing this.

Editing or Modifying the Art ; Unless I asked you to, do not!

★ Also none of my art posts are T//est don't be weird...

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Boundaries ;

☆ Prosh!p, T/est, and NSFW DNI please.

☆ STOP FLIRTING WITH ME 😭😭😭!!!!!!!! I'M NOT GONNA DATE YOY.

☆ Do not talk / ask / joke about LFLS it makes me mad uncomfortable, asks about it will be deleted.

☆ Please stop talking / asking about my sexuality, I am more than that. It's dehumanizing (pun not intended) and unfunny 💔.

☆ Stop venting in my ask box. I don't know you. You don't know me. I'm not a therapist, I understand you may be seeking comfort, but I'm not qualified for that kind of thing!!!

☆ Please don't ask anything NSFW, this includes;

Making strange implications about me and Donnie's interactions (this goes for the others too but I noticed a trend when it comes to Donnie)

Making comments about my body (come on guys...) or comments about what you want to DO to my body (😒)

In reference to the time when someone boldly asked about my body count 💀💀 <- whatever this is, don't do that!!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Boundaries will be updated as time goes on. The introduction post will be reblogged every time an update is made ☆ !!!

『 ↳✧･ﾟ System Boundaries ;

★ None atm I matured and idc who interacts 😭

#introduction #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie #disaster twins #leo rottmnt #Spotify

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malereadermaniac · 2 months

Text

Relationship headcanons ~ Raihan x Male Reader

Random relationship headcannons with Raihan

Sorry its short

The media had a field day when some paparazzi photo got leaked of you two out on a date. Even though Raihan is extremely vain and social media-present - you're not, and your boyfriend does nothing but respect that. But once that picture was on on every gossip page on Instagram, you two decided to lean into it. If anything, it would boost Raihan's popularity more!

You now feature in videos from time to time and you even have a special segment in his match videos of you cheering him on. Raihan loves that he gets to show you off now, every single one of his instagram posts has you in it, he has about 3 highlights of just you - it's very sweet.

The region also loves you. They originally had a lot of questions (which Raihan answered in a Q&A, of course) but now everyone sees you and Raihan as THEE Galar couple - people wanna see you just as much as they do Raihan!

The muscular gym leader loves to treat you like a Prince, he figures that if he has all this money from being a gym leader and an influencer that he should put it to good use on you.

Dates almost every night, and if you two can't be bothered to go out, then you call it a movie night and cuddle until one of you falls asleep in the others' arms.

Dates with Raihan are also all inclusive - this man pays for everything! It started with your first couple of dates being treats on him, which you would protest and demand to split the bill. But later on, you slowly let Raihan pay for your dates more and more - the conversation usually going something like:

"Is today's treat on you?" Already expecting the answer to be a yes

Raihan just smugly nodding with a small smirk in the hottest way ever

"You're buying?" You ask again with a small smile forming on your face subconsciously

"Of course, love" Raihan says with his signature grin after he swallows the huge mouth of food he was munching on

You then treating him in your own way and kissing Raihan's cheek cutely, making the grown man blush.

Now that the two of you are so deep into your relationship (4 years to be exact), you don't even bother to bring a form of payment with you on dates. But you still make sure to ask Raihan if today's treat is on the house, knowing all you have in your bag is chapstick and lube.

It boosts Raihan's ego to tell you that he's paying for you, who are you to deny your boyfriend such childish pride?

The two of you pokemon battle to decide most things, or just whenever you feel like it really. And even though Raihan promises he doesn't hold back, it is strange that you beat the 8th gym leader of Galar every time the two of you scrap.

Raihan also gifted you an Eevee on your one year anniversary saying that "just like an eevee can turn into everything, you turned my life into everything" - you never expected the strong and popular Raihan to be such a sappy man! That eevee is still on your team, your ace and partner pokemon (eeveelution). And even though it's YOUR pokemon, Raihan loves it just as much.

On the topic of pokemon and battles, not only do you support your boyfriend at every single one of his matches, but you two are the Double Battle champions at the Wyndon Battle Tower - a title you two have held for a while now. You two have such great synergy during battles that you rarely have to talk to understand eachother, one of you just has to tell your pokemon to attack with a certain move and the other will know what to do next!

The biggest fan of your relationship is Leon by far! He acted as your bodyguard when the paparazzi photo leaked, keeping crazy fans and more media representatives away from you - sacrificing his time to answer their silly questions about his championship in order to give you a chance to slip away.

He's also the one who forced Raihan to actually ask you out, the charismatic man actually being a wet wipe when it came to communicating his feelings to you!

And to this day, Leon is willing to 3rd wheel you and your boyfriend - and it isn't even awkward. The two of you hang out like close friends do.

You couldn't be happier than you are with Raihan

He treats you like a God and respects you and your boundaries no matter what. And he isn't too hard on the eyes either!

You ground him when his adrenaline junkie personality gets the best of him (especially during battles) and bring up his mood if he's ever feeling down for whatever reason - you're both the light of each others lives.

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #cute gay #anime #pokemon x male reader #pokemon x reader #raihan #raihan x reader #raihan x male reader #mlm #x m reader #m reader #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon self insert #pokemon swsh #galar

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magicfootballstuff · 6 months

Text

Dirty Little Secret - part 5 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 5/?

Read other parts here.

———

You’ve hardly spoken to Leila since the news broke that she’ll be playing for Manchester City next season, and not at all since the tournament began. You’re completely focused on your goal of winning the Euros, as Leila probably is too, and you immerse yourself in the bubble of the Lionesses camp while trying to block out outside noise. That includes talking to Leila.

You watch her games though. In between your own matches and the intense training schedule, there’s plenty of downtime and you manage to catch quite a few of the other games on the large screen in the Lionesses’ television room, including the Spanish team’s group games. You act like you’re watching them out of professional curiosity, knowing the likelihood of having to face Spain in the knockout rounds, but you’re as focused on Leila as an individual as you are on the Spanish team as a whole.

Sure enough, after a successful unbeaten group stage, England have to play against Spain in their quarter final match and it might be the hardest game you’ve ever played so far in your career.

It’s not just the physical aspect - one hundred and twenty minutes on a muggy summer evening against a team that has the majority of the possession - but also the mental side. When Spain go ahead, it’s the first goal that England have conceded all tournament, the first time you’ve found yourselves in a losing position, and it takes resilience like you’ve never seen before to pull yourself back not just level, but into the lead.

You almost forget that you’re playing against Leila’s team. She’s on the bench, which you feel conflicted about, having been looking forward to facing her on the pitch again, but at least it removes that possible distraction.

The final whistle blows and thanks to Georgia’s extra time worldie, England are through to the semi-finals.

You walk around the pitch, grinning and hugging your own teammates in celebration, while shaking the hands of the heartbroken Spanish players. Some of them, you know from the Copa de la Reina afterparty, where you were Leila’s guest, and it’s hard to look them in the eye knowing that you’ve just crushed their dreams of progressing further in this tournament.

You walk past Ona Batlle, who you’ve played against many times in the league, and who is being comforted by Rachel. Then Mapi Leon, who you know is one of Leila’s closest friends, lets you pull her in for a brief one-armed hug, but all the time you’re looking for one person.

You spot Leila from across the pitch, still wearing her purple substitute bib, and she must see you too because you end up slowly meandering towards each other as you do the rounds on the pitch.

Leila isn’t quite crying, not like some of her teammates who left everything out on the pitch in one hundred and twenty minutes of gruelling football, but the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak.

You don’t know what to say.

In the end, words aren’t needed. You’re not sure who initiates it, but you end up in each other’s arms. Leila is slightly taller than you and her arms wrap around your shoulders, one hand cradling the back of your head as you lean into her and wrap your own arms around her back. The warmth of her body against yours is comforting and you almost drown out the sound of the jubilant crowd singing Sweet Caroline because suddenly the only thing that matters is Leila.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into Leila’s shoulder.

“Don’t say sorry,” Leila replies. “You’ll make me cry.”

You want to apologise for that too, but you obey Leila and stay quiet instead, still full of adrenaline from the game and knowing that seeing Leila cry will probably set you off too.

You wish you could freeze this moment, to exist just the two of you in each other’s arms, as you did for those short days in Barcelona a few weeks ago. Leila’s body fits against your own in a way that you’ve never fully appreciated before, but you feel like this is where you belong. She’s just a little bit taller than you, her hand cradling the back of your head, and though it should probably be you comforting her now that you’ve knocked her team out of the tournament, the embrace is as much of a comfort to you.

Though you’d like to remain in Leila’s arms forever, you eventually break apart, but with promises that you’ll talk properly as soon as all the formalities are done and you can get a moment of privacy.

You have to wait until after the huddles, when some of the girls are still doing media duties and you’re back in your tracksuit after a shower, but you get a message from Leila on your phone.

Leila Can I see you? Is there somewhere we can go?

Knowing that your time is limited before both teams have to leave the stadium, you reply straight away.

You Meet me outside the changing rooms?

You pull a hoodie over your head and slip your socked feet into your sliders, then leave the England changing room. Leila emerges from the Spanish dressing room within seconds, and you silently lead her in the opposite direction from the media zone, until you find a deserted hallway deep within the underbelly of the stadium. There, you end up on the floor, side by side with your backs against the wall, thighs pressed together and your fingers intertwined with Leila’s in her lap.

You’re reminded of the only other time you and Leila snuck away after a game - after the second Champions League game at the Emirates. Back then, your actions were fuelled by lust and secrecy. Today, you just want Leila’s company for as long as you’re allowed to have it, and you don’t care about getting caught.

“Are you mad?” you ask Leila, as you trace your thumb over the small tattoo on the back of her hand. “That we knocked you out?”

“Some of the girls are angry,” Leila says with a shrug. “Like Aitana - I think her head might explode. But I’m not mad. Just sad. We wanted to win. We really wanted to win for Alexia.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, leaning into Leila’s side and letting your head fall against Leila’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells you, her fingers still absently toying with yours.

“It kind of is,” you point out.

“No,” Leila insists, shaking her head firmly. “We have such good players but you need something extra to win a tournament. It feels like there’s always something missing with us. I can’t describe what it is, but I know your team has it.”

You think you know what Leila means. You’ve played in many different teams over the years - youth teams, professional clubs, national sides - and with that you’ve experienced the full range of success levels. The teams you’ve been a part of that have won titles have all had that special something that Leila refers to, a connection between teammates, the two-way trust between the coach and the players, the special spark that allows you all to push through, even when it’s tough.

You think that the Lionesses have probably demonstrated that tonight. You’ve played in so many teams that would have crumbled as soon as they went one goal down against one of the best sides in Europe, yet you came from behind to earn your place in the semi final. That’s the mark of a team that has something special.

Spain, for whatever reason, doesn’t have that, despite the obvious talent in their squad. You wonder if Leila is more mad at that than she is at you for knocking them out of the tournament.

“You’re gonna win this whole competition, you know that, right?” Leila tells you.

If there’s one thing that Sarina has brought to this England team it’s belief, but while you know this team is more than capable of winning the Euros, you’re still not sure whether it will actually happen.

“You think so?” you ask Leila.

She nods and says, “I hate it. My heart says anybody but England. But I also want it for you. You deserve it.”

“I know it’s the whole point of sport, that only one team can win, and don’t get me wrong, I love winning. But sometimes I hate it when my dreams have to come at the expense of my friends’ dreams.”

“Is that what we are?” Leila asks, and when you lift your head from her shoulder to look at her, she’s smirking back at you. “Friends?”

She gives your hand a performative squeeze, as if to emphasise the beyond-friendliness of your relationship.

You open your mouth to say something witty in response, then close it again. Because the thing is, you and Leila haven’t actually defined what you are. Football rivals with benefits is probably the most appropriate term, because to be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you know Leila well enough to call yourselves friends yet.

But with Leila looking at you with curiosity in her eyes, eyebrows half raised as if she’s expecting you to confirm the exact nature of your relationship, you don’t know what to say. You could joke, but that would just be deflecting. You could be honest, and tell her that you don’t know what you want but that you like the way that things have been going. Or you could field the adrenaline still coursing through your body from the match into telling Leila that you’d like to maybe explore making things a little more serious when she moves to England soon.

What if she doesn’t want things to be more serious? What if she’s more than happy with just an occasional hookup? More to the point, are you sure that you want anything more than what’s currently going on between you?

The door at the end of the hallway crashes open before you can even begin to vocalise any of the confusion in your mind, and your head jerks up to see that it’s Mapi who is interrupting you, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you sitting together on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

“Shit, my bad,” Mapi says in English, before she switches to Spanish and addresses Leila.

You let your fingers slip out from between Leila’s as they converse and use your hand to play with your hair instead, running your fingertips through the damp strands, until eventually Leila turns back to you and says, “Sorry, I have to go. We’re leaving soon.”

Leila pushes herself to her feet, then offers out a hand to help you to yours. You keep your hand in hers as you follow Mapi down the hallway, only letting it drop when you pass into a more public area where there might be some media. The last thing you need is for pictures of the two of you holding hands to appear on social media before you even get the chance to figure out how to label what Leila is to you.

There are a few more people around, and one of those is your captain Leah, whose frowning face relaxes when she sees you.

“Oh, there you are,” Leah says to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Nobody knew where you were. The bus is leaving soon.”

Leah’s eyes flick curiously between you and the two Spanish players, but if she suspects anything, she doesn’t comment on it.

Mapi leaves you, entering the Spanish dressing room, but Leila stays and you know it’s time to say goodbye. At least this time, with Leila’s move to Manchester imminent, you hope there will be chances to see her again sooner than usual once your own tournament is over.

You migrate towards each other and wrap your arms around Leila as she pulls you against her chest, burying your face against her shoulder. She smells divine, and you try to commit it to memory as you inhale.

“Good luck,” Leila murmurs into your hair, her voice soft enough that only you can hear her. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“For me or for England?” you can’t help but tease her.

“You,” Leila says, speaking at a normal level again as she pulls out of the embrace. “Fuck England.”

There’s an amused glint in her eyes as she says this, but it quickly vanishes when she realises she’s still standing within earshot of the England captain, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning as Leila raises an apologetic hand in Leah’s direction.

“Sorry,” she says.

“No need to apologise,” Leah replies diplomatically. “In your position, I’d probably feel that way about us too.”

You think about going in for a goodbye kiss with Leila, but Leah’s presence causes you to hesitate, and before you can make a decision Leila has already said her final goodbye and followed Mapi into the Spanish changing room.

“You alright?” Leah asks, now that it’s just the two of you.

You and Leah know each other incredibly well, playing alongside each other for over a decade, first in the same England youth age groups, then at club level with Arsenal. And while you can tell Leah is curious about the interaction she saw between you and Leila, and that her question isn’t so much asking about your well-being as it is inviting you to open up to her, you also know that she’s not going to push you to tell her anything that you’re not ready to share.

“All good,” you respond.

Leah drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her side as you re-enter the now almost empty England changing room.

“You bossed it tonight,” she tells you. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You too, captain.”

She smiles at you - the whole England captain thing still hasn’t fully sunk in yet, for either of you, and while you can’t quite believe that the skinny girl with the white blonde hair and the gangly legs who you first met over ten years ago is now leading her country to a European Championship semi final, you know that this is something Leah has always been destined for.

You don’t want to get ahead of yourself but you’re still on such a high from the game that you dare to wonder if Leah is the person who will finally lead England to a major trophy.

“Two games left,” Leah tells you, and you know that she’s reminding herself as much as you. “Two games left to change our lives.”

———

“You’ve got a new girlfriend, I see,” Georgia grins at you as you sit down for breakfast the morning after the Spain game.

“What?” you ask, nearly choking on your granola.

“That’s what Twitter thinks, anyway.”

“Show me.”

Georgia flips her phone around and shows you a tweet that reads “new woso couple alert?” accompanied by a couple of pictures of you and Leila embracing on the pitch after the game. You can feel your cheeks start to heat up and you hope they don’t visibly redden, especially as you feel Leah’s eyes on you, the only person around the table who might be able to guess how close to the truth this fan ‘rumour’ actually is.

“Oh, because I consoled a player after a game now I’m dating her?”

You scroll through some of the comments. There’s nothing too outrageous there - some about the length of the hug, some speculating how or even if you and Leila actually know each other, mixed in with a couple of theories that it’s purely professional and that Manchester City will soon be announcing your return to the club where you spent your formative years thanks to “agent Leila”. It’s not new either. You’re no stranger to being shipped with other footballers, it sort of comes with the territory of being semi-famous in a fanbase of mostly queer women, but never has a rumour about your dating life been so close to the truth.

Suddenly, you’re wondering if you were wrong to hug Leila in public after the game. At the time you followed your instinct, wanting to comfort somebody who means a lot to you. But if you’d waited until you were alone to do that, you wouldn’t have strangers on the internet speculating about the nature of a relationship that you can’t even define yourself yet. Leila was hurting, but was being there for her in that moment really worth potentially outing this to everybody before it even has a label?

Stewing over a decision that you made in the heat of the moment and didn’t think twice about, you return Georgia’s phone.

“It’s just the fans though,” Georgia says with a shrug. “They come up with all sorts of crazy theories sometimes.”

“Yeah, there’s some fans that think I’m dating Ella,” Alessia interjects with a laugh.

“Wait, are you not?” Leah asks, managing to keep her expression deadpan for a few seconds, before it cracks open into a grin.

“Alessia wishes she was dating me,” Ella says.

“I do actually,” Alessia replies, reaching out for one of Ella’s hands as she adds, “El, I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I really feel…”

“Shut up!” Ella snatches her hand away and rolls her eyes as the rest of the group descends into a fit of laughter.

With the group’s attention now elsewhere, any opportunity you might have had to finally admit to your friends what’s going on between you and Leila has passed.

There’ll be other times. When the tournament is over, maybe then you’ll tell them. But with a semi final coming up and the possibility of a final too, you can’t deal with any distractions, whether those come from outside opinions on social media or your friends teasing you about the developments in your personal life.

You feel Leah’s eyes on you and you suspect she knows the truth, but you’re grateful for her silence.

———

England makes it past Sweden with relative ease and you can hardly believe that you’ve made it this far. The final at Wembley is all that stands between you and your wildest dream, but it also means you have to face up to the dilemma that’s been on your mind since you knocked Spain out in the quarter finals.

Should you invite Leila to watch the final as your guest?

You haven’t actually talked to Leila since the quarter final. You know that she’s probably been busy getting ready to move to England, meanwhile you’ve been caught in the bubble of the Lionesses camp.

But once the excitement of winning the semi final has passed and you’re back to focusing on training for the final, you realise that you want Leila there to support you. Just as you went to see her play in the Champions League and Copa de la Reina finals, you want her in the crowd as you compete for the European Championship trophy.

But you don’t know if she wants to come, especially after it was your team who knocked hers out of the same competition.

Plus, though Twitter moved on from the hypothetical of you and Leila after a matter of hours when something else became more interesting, you’re sure that a sighting of Leila in the crowd at Wembley, in the England friends and family section no less, will be sure to bring those rumours right back to the attention of the fans.

After a day of deliberating, you eventually decide that it’s a risk you’re happy to take, if it means Leila might be in the crowd to watch you play the most important game of your entire career.

You text her on your way to lunch after a conditioning session in the gym two days before the big final.

You Do you want to come to the final? I can get you a ticket…

And then, you add a second message as an afterthought.

You Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear an England shirt 😉

Leila doesn’t reply immediately

Leila Sorry I move to Manchester this week 😔 but good luck!

You’re disappointed, but you knew this was a likely outcome. Besides, it’s probably for the best. If Leila had accepted the offer, not only would you have had to explain everything to your teammates, but you’d probably have ended up introducing Leila to your entire family too, which sounds like way too much for somebody who isn’t even officially your girlfriend.

You No problem! Good luck with the move!

———

Leila was right - this England team does have something special.

It hits you, strangely enough, not when the final whistle blows nor when Leah lifts the trophy and a shower of confetti rains down over you, but when you crash Sarina’s post-final press conference with the rest of the team. It’s so ridiculous, your socked feet slipping against the floor, Mary shimmying her hips as she dances on the tables, two dozen journalists watching on in amused disbelief, but there’s no group of people you’d rather have done the last month and a half with. And the medal around your neck, hanging heavy with the sheer importance of what you’ve just achieved, is a permanent reminder of the best summer of your life.

You return to the dressing room, where an England-branded bucket hat somehow finds its way onto your head, and sit down in your cubby to check your phone. Messages have been flying in since full time - friends, family, even distant acquaintances you haven’t seen in over a decade, all wanting to congratulate you on the win. But there’s only one person you’ve been waiting to hear from, and you feel giddy when you see her name in the list of notifications.

Leila Congrats campeonaaaa! I told you that you were gonna win 😋

She’s accompanied the message with a picture, a selfie in which she’s wearing the England shirt emblazoned with your number that you traded for hers during the Arnold Clark Cup.

You take a selfie to send back, keeping the ridiculous hat on your head and lifting up your medal to catch it between your teeth. You grin as you snap the photo and send it to Leila.

Almost as soon as you send it, your phone starts ringing with an incoming FaceTime. You’ve ignored a few calls since you won, overwhelmed by the number of people trying to congratulate you already, but when you see Leila’s name, you accept immediately.

“Hey,” you say, when Leila’s face appears on the screen of your phone.

“Nice hat,” she greets you, stifling a laugh.

You raise your eyebrows, then say, “Sexy, huh?”

Leila gives you an incredulous look, before she says, “Show me your medal then.”

The dressing room is already noisy, but somebody turns the speaker up and it’s almost impossible to hear Leila, so you make your way out of the central changing area and towards the showers, where it’s slightly quieter, before lifting the medal so that it’s in the frame of your front-facing camera.

“Does it suit me?” you ask, shooting her a teasing smile.

“I like it,” Leila tells you. “Winning is very sexy.”

You open your mouth to flirt back, but you’re interrupted by a shout from a few metres away. When you glance up, Leah has emerged from round the corner, a half empty bottle of champagne clutched in one of her hands.

“Oi!” she cries out. “Come and dance with us.”

“Two minutes,” you say to Leah.

Leah’s eyes flit between your face and the phone in your hand, and realisation washes over her face, perhaps remembering the interactions she saw between you and Leila after you played against each other last week.

“Oh!” she says, eyes wide. “Take your time!”

“I’ll be there in a second,” you promise Leah, before turning back to your phone.

“Go and celebrate,” Leila urges you.

“I wish I was celebrating with you,” you admit.

“Sorry,” Leila says with a grimace.

“No!” you interject. “I’m not blaming you for not being here! How did the move go?”

“It was good,” Leila shrugs. “The apartment is nice but I need to go to IKEA to get some furniture.”

“Maybe I can come and visit when you’ve settled in?” you suggest optimistically.

“Okay, but you lose the hat,” Leila tells you, and it’s more of an order than a suggestion.

A thought pops into your brain, probably fuelled the bottle of beer you just downed on top of a shit ton of adrenaline from the match, and you cheekily ask, “What if I’m wearing just the hat?”

“No,” Leila warns you firmly, though she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Fine,” you concede.

“Go,” Leila tells you. “I don’t want to stop you celebrating.”

“Okay,” you say, trying to draw out the goodbye as long as you can. “But I’ll see you soon, right?”

“See you soon, champion.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #dirty little secret

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