#Madrid's people are dancing

[wimbledon2008]

#he really tried it skdjjskdkwskdjskdjd #made real madrid cut a fool for ages and asks us to keep dancing? bruh #you're never gonna play for rm now we hate people here #real madrid #kylian mbappe

[wileys-russo]

off limits (1) II a.putellas x león!reader

request here

off limits II a.putellas x leon!reader

"hermana!" you quickly stretched your arm away from your body as your sister jumped on top of you, sending her a glare as you wiped the rum off your arm and placed your now empty glass down on the table in front of you.

"you owe me a drink." you shook your head at her erratic nature, the girl grinning and pressing a kiss to your cheek as you elbowed at her as she only doing it again to annoy you further.

"ay mapi!" you whined and pushed her off, ingrid arriving as your savior and briefly distracting the tattooed girl beside you who peppered her lips with kisses. you gagged at the sight sticking your finger down your throat, earning yourself a laugh from a few of your team mates across the booth.

"oh dont be jealous. there's lots for you too hermana!" mapi grabbed at your face, repeatedly kissing all over it as you struggled to pull away. "hey! leave her be." ingrid chuckled, tugging your sister off of you as you wiped your face with a scowl.

you met your girlfriends eyes across the table, the older girl hiding her amused smile behind the one drink she'd been babysitting the entire time you'd been at the club. you stuck your tongue out at her as her eyes rolled playfully, shaking her head and taking a tiny sip, though you were certain it would only be water in her glass anyway.

after a big win over real madrid the team had gone for a celebratory dinner, which had of course wound up being followed by going out to a club, your sister the main ringleader in dragging three quarters of the team out for a night of drinking and dancing.

your girlfriend took the most convinving of everyone, even just to come to dinner. it was hardly unknown knowledge that la reina didn't drink during the season, and you knew alexia well enough to know she'd much rather be tucked up in bed studying the match for any singular little faults she could find and correct, football was her life after all.

though with a pout and a very discreet kiss to the corner of her mouth she'd given into you and agreed to come for a little while. out with the team you couldn't be all over one another like you wanted to, alexia wishing the two of you were curled up together behind the safety and privacy of her apartment celebrating in other ways.

but alas it certainly didn't help that no one knew you were together, well most people didn't.

you'd almost beaten poor claudia into submission not to run and tell half the team when she'd caught the two of you mid makeout in the showers after you thought everyone had left. but you knew she'd told patri, simply just from the cheeky knowing smile sent your way by the girl when you were paired up with your captain for a drill at training that next morning.

ona and lucy had accidentally overheard a lovesick confession from you to your girlfriend about how your mornings weren't the same without waking up to cuddles and alexia cooking for you.

they had taken less convincing not to spill your secret, though you copped relentless teasing from your english teammate for the soft admission.

frido and ingrid had spotted the two of you out to dinner one night, tucked away and looking loved up in the back corner of a lesser known restaurant on the outskirts of barcelona.

you knew you were likely to cause poor ingrid stress from needing to keep this from her girlfriend, and you promised her that you would speak with alexia about coming forward with it all to mapi. though the norwegian girl knew your sister almost as well as you did and empathized with the fact that she was incredibly over protective, and would likely not react well.

but as the list of names who knew started to grow, so did yours and alexia's worries that it would get back to one person in particular.

alexia's best friend, who just also happened to be your older sister.

"now for a real kiss for you hermanita. what about that one by the bar? or that one? or her? or that one looks promising?" your sisters arm settled over your shoulder, drawing you into her side as she hummed and her eyes scanned the room, pointing out various women one by one.

"i told you already, i am not interested! stop trying to sell me off like a prized cow." you shook your head, biting back a smile and rolling your eyes.

"a prized cow? someone thinks highly of themselves." your sister tutted with a cheeky grin, again pointing out more women as you denied each one, sending ingrid a pleading look as she hurried mapi off to the bar for another round.

"some of those girls were not ugly." a familiar raspy voice sounded in your ear, alexia using your sisters absence to shuffle around closer to you, hand subtly squeezing your thigh under the table.

"oh really? maybe you should go get their numbers then, la reina." you challenged, your own hand resting on top of hers, inching it higher up your leg as your girlfriend raised an eyebrow with a surprised smile.

biting down on your bottom lip alexia's hand moved under your dress, a singular finger tracing circles on your upper thigh, dangerously close to your underwear.

"come for a dance?" you nodded behind you to where most of your team mates were, alexia only chuckling in response. "you know i don't dance amor." your girlfriend answered quietly, tilting her head, hazel eyes darkening, hand still inching slowly upwards on your inner thigh.

"lets get out of here bebita." the older girl purred quietly with a suggestive smile. "already? but where's your team spirit captain?" you teased with a grin.

"hermana!" alexia's touch disappeared like magic as if it was never there, immediately shuffling further away from you and turning to speak with lucy and ona as mapi returned and sat right back down next to you.

"your drink." your sister handed you a fresh glass as you smiled appreciatively, though really you wished you could slap her for the interruption.

"mi amiga! dance with us?" aitana appeared, holding out her hand with a grin, flanked by claudia and patri who cheered as you stood, the three of them dragging you away to the dancefloor.

you could feel alexia's eyes trained to you the entire time. it was probably a good thing your sister was so drunk because your girlfriend was hardly bashful in the way that her eyes roamed your body, narrowing as you were pulled in by a girl on the dance floor.

you kept your gaze locked with hers as you pushed yourself into the stranger, though careful not to allow her hands to roam your body as you held them, watching alexia's jaw clench, jealousy burning in her hazel orbs.

"want to get out of here?" you heard the girl ask as you pulled yourself away and shook your head. "not with you, sorry." you replied with a smile before being tugged back to the table by pina.

a few of your team mates had already headed home, and those who were left were far from sober. you were grateful on everyone's behalf tomorrow was a recovery day off because there was sure to be some sore heads among the team tomorrow.

"im going to head home too chicas." alexia announced standing to her feet, her eyes meeting yours for a moment with a familiar look, ignoring the boo's and jeers sent her way for the statement.

"i think i will too, can you give me a ride home ale?" you gently yanked your arm out of claudias grip, alexia nodding. "oh boo! loser, loser, loser." your sister chanted at you making you roll your eyes.

"some of us are tired from scoring goals, hermana." you teased, ruffling her hair as alexia moved beside you, the two of you making the rounds saying your goodbyes before heading for the exit.

things were silent between the two of you as you walked together toward her car, the summer night air warm against your skin, head buzzing lightly from the few drinks you'd had.

but that comfortable silence all changed the moment you slid into alexia's cupra, her hands were on you in an instant, lips exploring your own before moving to your neck, causing you to throw your head back with a moan of pleasure.

"so your place or mine bonita?"

~

feeling the light of a promisingly sunny day shine through the open window your eyes fluttered awake, wincing slightly and rolling over, grasping out for your girlfriend.

"good morning mi amor." her hand tangled in your hair, short nails scratching at your scalp as you hugged her bare leg, mumbling a greeting back into the tanned skin.

"why are you awake already?" you sighed, pushing your head to rest in her lap, looking up at her through squinted eyes. "studying." she answered with a smile, nodding to the tablet on the bedside table beside her, yesterdays match paused on the screen.

"you're crazy." you exhaled with a shake of your head, lips curling into a smile as alexia playfully flicked your forehead. "maybe about you." alexia flirted with a smile, causing your cheeks to flush rosy pink at the tender admission from the often stern girl.

"what would everyone say if they knew their queen was such a softy?" you teased, your girlfriend dipping her head, her lips ghosting yours, pulling away as you tried to kiss her.

"kiss me." you whined, pulling at her shirt needily. "mmm no." alexia shook her head with a cocky smile as you raised an eyebrow, within a few seconds you'd straddled her lap, pulling your shirt over your head and watching as her eyes dropped down to your bare chest.

"my eyes are up here." you tutted, the cocky smile now on your face as you pulled your head back when alexia leaned in to kiss you. "kiss me." the girl ordered, her hand coming to cup the back of your neck.

"mmm no?" you teased, pretending to think about it, grinning as alexia rolled her eyes impatiently and pulled your lips to meet hers, her hand on the back of your neck meaning she was in control of when you pulled away.

you moaned into her mouth as her other hand traced your abs, slowly making its way downwards to where you really needed her as you rolled your hips into hers.

but everything halted as a series of sharp knocks on your door rang out and you pulled away, glancing out of your open bedroom door as alexia grabbed the back of your neck again, smashing her lips back to yours in a bruising kiss.

"ignore it, they will go away." the older girl mumbled impatiently into the kiss, the knocking continuing and growing louder the longer you left it.

"hermana surely you are not still sleeping?" an all too familiar voice rang out as you shoved alexia's hands off you, the two of you looking at each other with the same amount of fear and shock.

"mapi." you whispered in sync as you rolled off of her, hastily pulling your shirt back over your head and hunting around on the floor for your underwear. "bebita?" you heard a whistle and glanced up to see the blonde twirling them around on her finger with a slightly smug smile.

"mierda ale, now is not the time!" you hissed, snatching them off of her and smacking her shoulder with a glare. "sorry! just trying to lighten the mood." the blonde rolled her eyes, but you could see she was equally as nervous as you were.

"oh my god woman hurry up and answer this damn door! i know you're home." your sister shouted with a groan, fist now pounding against the door as you instructed alexia to stay in your bedroom and pulled the door closed, hurrying over.

"now is not a good time mapi." you half opened the door with a forced smile, your sister scoffing with a roll of her eyes, shouldering her way past you and inside your apartment as you cursed under your breath.

"i bring you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?" she whistled and shook her head, pulling herself to sit up on the counter and gesturing to the two brown packages by her side.

"im not well today, you should go." you coughed, pointing to the door. "you have always been a bad liar." mapi grinned, unwrapping one of the breakfast sandwiches and nodding for you to do the same.

"mapi." you withheld a groan, dragging your hands down your face in frustration, the older girl always having been stubborn. "why are you so eager for me to leave?" the tattooed spaniards eyes narrowed, scanning you suspiciously as you rolled your eyes.

"oh my god." mapi gasped excitedly, jumping off the counter as you raised a curious eyebrow at her behavior. "you are not here alone!" your sister realised, grinning like a cheshire cat and clapping her hands happily.

"what? of course i am." you scoffed, trying with every fibre of your being not to show how nervous you were at her words. "no. you are not." mapi sung out teasingly, suddenly grabbing at you and poking your neck making you hiss in pain, and then came the realisation.

"hickeys!" your sister laughed as you smacked her hands off and shoved her away. "so who is it? someone from the club? someone you're seeing? a girlfriend? i thought you left with ale, sneaky!" the defender fired question after question at you.

"it's nobody, now get out." you huffed, trying to push her back towards the front door. "no. now tell your little friend to come out and say hi." mapi called out over your shoulder, easily shoving you away from her as she made a beeline for your bedroom door.

"mapi no!" you huffed in annoyance running at her and jumping on her back, your sister only laughing and easily shrugging you off, pushing you so you fell backwards onto the lounge.

"they either come out and say hi, or i go in and say hi. time is ticking!" your sister directed her comment toward the bedroom door, crossing her arms over her chest as you saw the handle begin to move and buried your face in your hands.

with an agonizing creak the door swung slowly open, revealing a very shameful looking blonde standing there with her arms folded over her chest, hair pulled up into a messy bun and your kit shorts on beneath her oversized shirt.

"...alexia?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part two

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #mapi leon x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #fc barcelona #mapi leon #alexia putellas

[jaehymrk]

after her father.

jude bellingham x fem!reader + mini daughter bellingham. fluff. jude who became a star for his daughter.

Your daughter giggled loudly, clapping her hand aggressively as Jude scored a goal for Real Madrid, his team. In your arms, your daughter jumped up and down showing off her growing teeth. You smiled widely, eyes twinkling in adoration to see your daughter being merry and joy at the loud cheer for her father. 

Jude ran in front of the crowd, his eyes eagerly dancing through the crowd to find his girls to meet the gaze of his little one clapping hands like everyone else. As the whole stadium of Bernabéu roared for Jude Bellingham, his heart soared high seeing his daughter in the midst of the crowd clapping and smiling just for him. 

He smiled, blowing a few kisses repeatedly toward your direction, your daughter excitedly nodded trying to catch his kisses. "Mommy, blow papa kiss." She mumbled, holding your cheeks tight with her small hand. With her order, you jokingly nodded following her action. 

As the players gathered to cheer Jude, the billboard on the stadium captured your daughter with her doe eyes sparkling bright and her big smile. "Do the pose you prepared for papa." You whispered in her ears, as she giggled to your words tingling in her ears. 

Jude is a superstar in her eyes. As he is away for matches or training, all she would watch is more contents of her father uploaded on social media. The constant giggles of Jude scoring a goal or making a scene with the referee. Your daughter learnt quickly about her father through youtube, regardless if it were some cuss words or some facial expression, she followed through.

Jude squinted his eyes gazing at his little girl as she swung her arm open wide just like her father as you strengthen your hold onto your baby protectively. People stood up from the benches cheering and applauding for Jude’s daughter. He stood in admiration to see how quickly his daughter is becoming like him. 

"That's my baby taking after me, innit." Jude chuckled, going back to his position with the rest of his teammates laughing with him. This win is an absolute must, considering his daughter being in one of the benches where he has to still be the superstar that he is for his daughter. 

You walked through the tunnel to meet Jude as your daughter waddled her way with her tiny little feet to meet her father. After the billboard incident, there were numerous people waving at your daughter with their phone hounding and recording her. 

She paused, you bent down to meet her eye level, she wrapped her arm around your neck. “Mommy, can I go to papa?” She whispered as she twirled onto her hair playfully messing up the hairstyle you made for her. You smiled slowly letting go of her hand, seeing as a sign, she jumped before pacing forward to her father who had been waiting for her in the field. 

You glanced worriedly but Jude had been on both of his knees opening his arm open for his little one to run into his embrace. All your worries vanished as she had landed on his arm safely. "I got you, i got you, i got you." Jude mumbled under his breath. You gently walked toward the father-daughter duo that were having their own moment. Jude glanced at the side to see you approaching before he motioned you to come faster.

"Hi" You whispered softly, wrapping your hand around his forearm. Jude smiled down, leaning in for a peck. Your daughter covered her eyes, "Papa, me first." Your daughter pulled Jude away from you, holding his cheeks tight.

In that moment, you were burning with love.

#jude bellingham scenarios #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jaehymrkwrites

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Airport Chaos.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - seeing how agitated that harry looked when he was just trying to get out of the car actually made me so cross, just be grateful that you got to see him, learn to give people personal space.

word count - 2.5k

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

As the car glides through the vibrant streets of Barcelona, a serene ambiance envelops you and your family, casting a veil of tranquillity over the world around you. The bustling energy of the city has retired for the night, leaving behind an exquisite symphony of solitude.

As your car glides along the deserted thoroughfares, the city unveils its timeless secrets. The ancient buildings, guardians of Barcelona's rich history, stand tall and proud, their façades adorned with intricate details and ornate balconies. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, their colors dance in harmony with the moonlit sky, creating a spellbinding kaleidoscope of hues.

The streets, devoid of the usual crowds, are yours to explore, each corner leading you deeper into the heart of this vibrant metropolis. The gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of towering trees, lending a symphony of rustling whispers to the nocturnal symphony. Their branches reach out like gentle arms, swaying gracefully overhead, creating a celestial canopy above the cobblestone lanes.

Occasionally, you catch glimpses of life seeping through the silence. A few solitary figures make their way along the sidewalk, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows upon the ground. Some are still adorned in the attire of a long workday, their weary steps echoing the rhythm of a day well-spent. Others, just beginning their nocturnal duties, are cloaked in the promise of a vibrant night ahead. Their presence adds a touch of mystique to the ethereal scenery, reminding you of the shared humanity that underlies the city's nocturnal tapestry.

The intoxicating scent of the sea lingers in the air, carried by the zephyrs that dance through the city streets. It mingles with the aromas of nearby cafés and restaurants, teasing your senses and igniting a hunger for adventure. The distant echoes of laughter and faint strains of music beckon, hinting at hidden pockets of life that come alive when the sun sets.

The drive continues with you cradling your sleeping one year old son, Finley, in your arms. His tiny mouth remained gently attached to your breast, having drifted off while nursing in the backseat after Harry's exhilarating concert. The rise and fall of his contented breaths provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey ahead.

You, Harry, and Finley were en route to Barcelona–El Prat Airport, preparing to catch a flight to Madrid. The excitement of the concert still lingered in the air, yet a hint of apprehension crept into your thoughts. The prospect of manoeuvring through a bustling airport with a sleeping baby nestled in your embrace weighed on your mind. Your nails became the focus of your nervous energy, as you absentmindedly picked at them, a telltale sign of your discomfort in crowded spaces.

Aaron, the driver, broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air with concern. "There's quite a crowd near the parking area," he informed you and Harry. "It might be a bit tricky to navigate through when we arrive."

The words sent a ripple of anxiety through your body, tightening your grip on Finley. You couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability in the face of such a boisterous crowd. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, knowing that your partner, Harry, thrived amidst the adoring masses that followed his every move.

As if sensing your unease, Harry's gaze shifted from the passing scenery to your nervous gestures. His touch was a lifeline, lifting your spirits and grounding you in his unwavering support. He reached out and gently grasped your hand, lifting it to his lips.

With a voice filled with reassurance and tenderness, he murmured, "M’love, don't worry. Everything's going t’be fine."

His words echoed in your ears, resonating deep within your heart. Harry's touch, warm and comforting, conveyed a sense of security, reminding you that you were never alone in facing your fears. Even though he was accustomed to crowds, he understood your anxieties and was always there to offer solace.

A soft smile danced upon your lips as Harry pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his lips grazing your skin with tender affection. In that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you—an unbreakable bond forged in love, trust, and understanding.

And as the car continued its journey towards the airport, you clung to the strength and reassurance Harry provided. The touch of his lips upon your knuckles served as a soothing balm, instilling you with a renewed sense of courage and confidence.

The car slowed down as it approached the bustling parking area, the clamour of the crowd growing louder. But in that moment, with Harry's kiss lingering on your skin, you felt a surge of determination. The chaos outside the car could not overpower the love and support that encompassed your little family.

Gently shifting Finley off your breast, you carefully disengaged him, causing him to let out a soft whinge in protest. Worried that he might fully wake up, you quickly began to sway and soothe him, hoping to lull him back into a peaceful slumber. As your soothing motions took effect, his eyelids fluttered, and he settled once again into a deep sleep.

Glancing up from Finley's serene face, you caught Harry's attention. His eyes met yours, and you could see the concern etched in his features. Taking in the scene outside through the tinted windows of the Mercedes, he turned back to you, his voice filled with determination and care.

"I'll get out first, sign a few things, and then I'll come back t’help you and Fin," Harry explained, his unwavering support shining through his words.

As he prepared to step out of the car, a surge of fans already surrounded the vehicle. They clamoured for a glimpse of their beloved idol, desperate to show their adoration. Harry's body shifted, one leg still anchored inside the car while the other extended towards the crowd, his calm demeanour serving as a shield of tranquillity amidst the chaos.

With a graceful balance of firmness and kindness, Harry skillfully kept the fans at a distance, ensuring their safety while maintaining his own. He exuded a rare sense of composure, navigating the sea of adoring faces with a genuine smile and a genuine touch, making each person feel seen and valued.

As Harry prepared to fulfill his promise of signing an album for a dedicated fan, the crowd's energy buzzed with anticipation. He stepped out of the car with a gracious smile, navigating through the throngs of adoring fans who eagerly stretched out their arms, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Amidst the excited voices and outstretched hands, one fan appeared particularly adamant about getting close to Harry. They pushed forward, disregarding personal boundaries, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near him. Sensing the fan's persistence, Harry raised a hand, creating a barrier between them.

"Chill out, mate," he spoke firmly, his tone laced with a mix of assertiveness and exhaustion.

You observed the situation unfold from the comfort of the car, your heart filled with concern. As the encounter unfolded, you could see glimpses of Harry's fatigue creeping in. The long hours of performing, travelling, and constant interaction with fans were undoubtedly taking a toll on him.

His initial patience and composure began to waver, replaced by a growing agitation. Lines of weariness etched themselves upon his face, and his eyes betrayed a longing for a moment of respite. Despite his efforts to maintain his poise, the relentless demands began to chip away at his stamina.

And as the crowd's clamour continued, you sent a silent message of understanding and support to Harry, hoping he would find solace in your presence. In that moment, you yearned to offer him the calm and tranquillity he deserved, to shield him from the world's demands and allow him to simply be himself, away from the spotlight.

The image of Harry, his hand held up in a gesture of boundary and weariness, remained etched in your mind. It symbolised the delicate balance he maintained between his role as an artist and his own need for rest.

With a resolute expression, Harry addressed the persistent fans surrounding him, his voice carrying a blend of urgency and determination.

"I need to get m’wife and m’son out of the car," he asserted, hoping to convey the importance of their privacy and the need for a moment of respite. “Could y’please step back a little please.”

Some fans responded to his plea, relenting and creating a bit of space, while others continued to plead for photos and autographs. Recognizing the challenge at hand, Harry turned to the security team, issuing a request for them to create a pathway, guiding you and Finley safely through the crowd.

After ensuring that the security team was in position, Harry returned to the car, a mix of concern and weariness etched upon his face. Sensing his presence, you looked at him, seeking his guidance and reassurance.

"Is it okay for us to get out?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Harry's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting the immense love and care he had for his family.

“As okay as it can be," he replied, his voice holding a gentle understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

Reaching out, he took Finley from your arms, his touch filled with tenderness and protectiveness. As Finley nestled his face in the crook of his father's neck, the exhaustion and overwhelm washed over him, causing tears to well up and spill forth. The flashing lights and the cacophony of the crowd became too much for the little one to bear.

Harry's embrace tightened, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other ensuring that Finley was cradled with care. His fatherly instinct kicked in, providing a sense of security amidst the chaos.

As the crowd pressed closer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch, one fan extended a hand towards Finley's tiny arm in hopes of capturing Harry's attention. But the innocent gesture had an unintended effect. Finley recoiled, pulling his arm back with a sudden jerk, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

Witnessing your son's distress, a surge of protectiveness welled up within you. Your heart ached for Finley, his innocence disrupted by the intrusion of a stranger's touch. At that moment, the proximity to the airport entrance offered a brief respite, as the number of fans thinned out. However, the incident had stirred something within Harry, a mix of concern and frustration that flickered in his eyes.

Harry, usually known for his composed demeanour, could no longer suppress his emotions. He addressed the fans, his voice tinged with a touch of agitation.

“Please, don't touch m’son," he implored, his words a plea laced with a protective urgency.

Rubbing his hand up and down Finley's back, Harry sought to soothe his distressed son. His touch carried a mixture of tenderness and firmness, a comforting gesture aimed at calming Finley's frayed nerves.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause, the weight of the situation resting heavily upon Harry's shoulders. The love he had for his son radiated through his touch, as he tried to ease Finley's unease and offer a sense of security amidst the unexpected turmoil.

As you finally made your way into the airport, the bustling atmosphere shifted to a slightly calmer pace.

“I’ve just got to go to the loo, quickly.” Your fiancé told you and the rest of the security who nodded their heads as he quickly handed Finley into your waiting arms. Fatigue and weariness were evident on his face, etched by the demands of the day.

In a tender exchange, Harry spoke softly to Finley, their bond evident in every word.

"I'll be back soon, little one." he murmured, his voice filled with affection and a touch of exhaustion. Finley looked up at his father, their connection palpable even at such a young age.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for Harry as you observed the tiredness etched on his face. He had given his all on stage, then faced the excitement and challenges of the crowd. Yet, even in his weariness, he remained attentive and loving, making sure to reassure Finley before attending to his own needs.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek, a gesture of support and understanding.

“We’ll be waiting here for you," you whispered, letting him know that you were there, ready to provide the stability and comfort he deserved.

Harry swiftly made his way to the restroom, seeking a momentary escape from the clamour and demands that surrounded him. He entered a closed cubicle, the solitude offering a brief respite from the outside world. The heavy door closed behind him, enclosing him in a quiet space.

Seated on the closed toilet seat, Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling in his mind. The facade of composure he wore for the public began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and with a trembling hand, he unlocked it.

The screen illuminated with a picture that held his heart captive—a snapshot of you and Finley when he was just born. The memory flooded his senses, the pure joy and love captured in that moment forever etched into his soul. The time displayed on the phone read 12:06 am, a reminder of the countless sleepless nights he had spent caring for his family.

Overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, Harry's composure shattered, and he silently sobbed. His tears fell in solitude, unheard by the world beyond the closed cubicle. He held his phone against his chest, clutching it over his heart, seeking solace in the tangible reminder of the love that anchored him.

The weight of his responsibilities and the unrelenting demands of fame bore down upon him. Despite his unwavering love for his fans, a sense of suffocation enveloped him at times. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he grappled with the fear that his son, the embodiment of his deepest love, had been placed in harm's way due to the adoration of his supporters.

Feeling the weight of his emotions and the need for comfort, Harry pulled his phone away from his chest and dialled a familiar number. The phone rang, each passing second heightening his anticipation.

Finally, the call connected, and he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

"Mum... I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you," Harry spoke softly, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and relief. Despite the unwavering support he found in his partner and in you, he longed for the familiar embrace of his mother's understanding.

His mother was one of his best friends, and he knew it was late over in England but he just needed to hear her voice. He knew you would always listen to his thoughts and feelings but there was something about hearing his mothers voice that made him feel better.

Don’t get Harry wrong, this was undoubtedly one of the best tours he had ever done in his life, but he desperately needed a break.

He was craving the feeling of his own bed, with Finley laying against his chest and you laid asleep in his arms.

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #dad!harry #dadrry #harrystylesxyn #harry’s house

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

#ingrid engen #mapi leon #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #misa rodriguez

[girlgenius1111]

is this a mistake too?

part 2 of that night was a mistake

smut! 18+. tw for creepy men, but it's brief.

You and Ona didn't quite make it to coffee. Instead, you found yourselves out with your teammates after your win in Madrid. You'd all arrived in Barcelona late, but you had the next day off, and some of your teammates had decided they needed to celebrate the first win of the season.

You stood in the dimly lit club, sipping your drink, music blasting throughout the room. You were surrounded by your teammates, all of whom were talking and laughing loudly. You, however, sat quietly, observing those around you. Pina and Cata were engaged in some drinking game, which Alexia watched carefully, sipping water, keeping an eye on the 2 troublemakers. Ingrid and Mapi were pressed close together, dancing to the music, looking at each other as if they were the only people on earth. Patri sat next to you, clearing noticing your out of character quietness, keeping a close eye on you.

Ona was across the room, dancing with Jana and Bruna. She was wearing a tight black corset top and ripped jeans; possibly the simplest going out outfit, yet you couldn't tear your eyes off of her. It was getting harder and harder for you to pretend you weren't completely in love with her. Being just coworkers didn't work. If the events of this afternoon indicated that you were becoming friends again, you were sure that wouldn't work either. It was taking every ounce of willpower in you not to shove your way across the room, pull Ona into your arms, and ravish her; it's slightly possible the alcohol you had consumed was only inflaming this desire. Tearing your eyes away from the defender you turned to Patri.

"I'm going to go get another drink. Want anything?" You questioned.

"Si, one of whatever you're having." Patri responded with a smile, hoping you were over whatever had you so down. You turned to head towards the bar, but a hand on your shoulder from Alexia stopped you, a disapproving look on her face.

"Last one, y/n. You too Patricia." Alexia's voice was stern, and you smirked at her as Patri gasped indignantly at the use of her full name.

"I don't think we're the ones you need to be worried about, Capi." You nodded your head towards Claudia and Cata, who were both putting back another shot they'd obviously procured while Alexia was distracted.

"Ay! What did I tell you two?" Alexia began to scold the two girls, and you slipped off towards the bar. You waited for the bartender, distracted from the people around you, which proved to be a mistake. You jumped when you felt a hand press against your lower back, so low you wondered if it could still be considered your back. You turned, finding yourself face to face with the most average looking man you'd potentially ever seen. He was smirking down at you like he was god's gift to earth, and you unconsciously wrinkled your nose, leaning back as far as you could.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"My friend thinks you're cute." He slurred out, nodding to the man sitting on the other side of you. Only then did you notice that they had caged you in. The other man spoke,

"I'll buy you a drink." He said, smirking at you. Neither man had moved an inch away from you, and the first man's hand remained on your back, fingers digging into your skin slightly. You couldn't tell if it was on purpose or if he was just too drunk to know better. You opened your mouth to speak, about to throw caution to the wind and tell both men to fuck off, when the first man jerked backwards, a heavily tattooed hand yanking him back by the shoulder. He stumbled away, and another hand reached out, pulling you away from the other man.

You looked up to find Patri wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders, glaring at the two men that had been speaking to you. The expression on Patri's face was nothing compared to the one on Mapi's, who looked like she was ready to square up to the two men that were at least 8 inches taller than her. It still wouldn't have been a fair fight, as the commotion had caught the attention of some of your other teammates, and you knew that the combined efforts of Ingrid, Alexia, Mariona, and Sandra would be more than enough backup for Mapi.

She began spitting words at them, rapidly insulting them, and warning them to never act so aggressively again towards a woman. At the same time, Patri spoke, tearing your focus from Mapi's loud words and gestures.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Her eyes looked at yours, torn between worried and angry.

"I'm fine, he barely touched me." Your voice came out slightly shakier than you intended, and Patri's brow furrowed. "I promise, I just need some air." You reassured, pulling out of her grasp and heading for the door. You really were okay, just feeling a little claustrophobic from the way the men had crowded you. You exited the bar, leaning up against the brick wall, taking big, deep breaths.

Your eyes are closed, but you aren't surprised when you feel a hand on your arm. You expected Patri or someone would follow you out. You did not expect to open your eyes and see Ona standing next to you, her face contorted with worry. You felt the heat of her hand on your arm, and suddenly it felt like the air outside had gotten warmer. If you weren't already flushed from being in the crowded club, you're sure you'd be blushing heavily.

"Are you ok?" Ona asked, her voice gentle as her thumb rubbed softly on your arm.

"I'm fine, seriously." Your voice came out slightly choked in response, not because you were upset, but because Ona was so close to you, you could smell her perfume. It smelled like rain, and something floral, and you were thoroughly distracted. But Ona's face looked slightly panicked, as if she didn't know what to do, so again, you reassured your friend. "Ona, I promise. I'm okay."

"You don't seem okay."

"It was crowded in there. Those creeps only made it worse. I just needed some space." In response, Ona pulled her hand away from your arm, but you grabbed it, holding onto it tightly, but sending her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Oni. You could never crowd me."

She blushed, and her eyes looked at you with a guarded hope in them. You knew then that you were drunk, because suddenly the urge to pull Ona into your arms and kiss her senseless was almost overpowering. You resisted, however, assuming that Ona would not welcome that. Even if she was blushing. There was no question that she remembered what happened the last time.

You were wrong. After a moment of staring into your eyes, Ona must have seen something in them that gave her confidence, and she was surging forward, lips smashing into your own. Your bodies molded together, her hands coming to hold tightly to your waste, your own gripping Ona's face. After a moment, she pulled back, her face suddenly shy, suddenly worried. Her lips were still close enough that you could feel them against yours as you spoke.

"I'm not going to run again, Oni. Not this time." You spoke gently, putting all the sincerity you could muster into your voice. At your words, Ona visibly relaxed, pressing forward again, this time allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth. She had you pressed up against the wall of the bar, your mouths melding together as you pulled her impossibly closer into your body. You got lost in the taste of her, the feeling of her lips on yours, her tongue moving in and out of your mouth. You moved a hand to thread your fingers through her hair, and tugged lightly, and she let out a whimper into your mouth at the feeling.

"Ay dios mio. This team is going to break a record for the number of players sleeping together."

You and Ona broke apart, but you kept a hand wrapped around her waste, unwilling to let her go for even a second, even as you both looked sheepishly at Patri, who was looking at the two of you with a slightly annoyed look on her face.

"Don't let me interrupt. Just came out to make sure you were okay." She turned to walk back into the club, saying one last thing over her shoulder. "Please don't have sex against the wall of this club where everyone can see you. Both of you have 2 perfectly lovely apartments like 2 blocks from here."

As Patri disappeared back inside the bar, you turned back to Ona, eyes roving over her freckled face. She had a few pieces of glitter on her cheeks, likely fallen from her eyeshadow. They sparkled in the faint moonlight, but were nothing compared to the look in her eyes as she gazed at you.

"Can I take you home Oni?

"Please."

----

You were barely inside your bedroom before you were tugging Ona's shirt off, pushing her backwards to lay on the bed, crawling on top of her. She was whining into your mouth as you reached a hand up to tug at her nipple. Her hips bucked up into yours, and you pulled back looking down at her.

"I need you, baby. Now." She whimpered. You understood. It was like you couldn't move fast enough, you needed to feel all of her, see all of her, this instant.

You sat back, yanking Ona's pants and underwear off, before pulling your own off, so fast that it would have been embarrassing , if Ona hadn't brought up a hand to play with her own nipples, desperate for some stimulation.

Climbing back onto the bed, laying next to her instead of on top this time, you reconnected your lips with hers. Your mouths met messily, tongues pushing back and forth, your teeth coming to nip at her bottom lip. You were both making desperate sounds, breaths coming hot against each other. Grabbing one of Ona's hands, you pulled it down between your thighs, before bringing your own to her core. She ran her fingers through your folds pulling back as you whined against her.

"Oh baby, you're so wet for me." She gasped out. You really were dripping. You didn't think you'd ever been this wet in your life, and Ona had barely touched you. You pressed your fingers up against her, relieved to find her just as wet as you were.

"All for you, baby. Only for you." You were breathless, all of your energy focused on keeping your fingers moving against Ona's clit, as she did the same. It was insane how good it felt. You'd been with other women, but nothing had ever felt like this before. Her fingers knew exactly what to do, where to go. Your bodies fit together like you had been created for the sole purpose of being pressed up against Ona, her body writhing against yours.

Suddenly, two of her fingers were teasing your entrance, before pushing in, starting to pump in and out at a fast pace. She was met with no resistance, your arousal leaking out of you, and allowing her in immediately.

"Ona. Harder." Your voice was filthy, barely words, mostly moans, as you begged Ona for more. At the same time, you slipped your fingers down, finding her just as ready for you. You pushed in, gasping at the feeling of her walls clenching around you already.

"Fuck baby. You feel so good." Ona whined, clearly nearing the edge. She curled her fingers into you then, increasing her speed. You did the same, and the room was filled with the sounds of your fingers frantically thrusting into each other, as you panted into each others mouths, foreheads pressed together, too overcome to keep kissing.

"J-Jesus Ona. So c-close." You stuttered, and she somehow increased her pace, pushing you over the edge. You buried your face into her neck as you cried out, fingers stilling inside of Ona. Your legs twitched against hers, and you whimpered as you came down, gasping for breath. As you came back to yourself, you felt Ona's body moving against your fingers, hips grinding down desperately. She was clenching around you tightly, and you could tell it wouldn't take much.

Pushing your body down the bed, you buried your face in between Ona's legs, moving your fingers again, and attaching your lips to her clit, sucking harshly. Ona cried out, her thighs wrapping themselves around your head as she came, hips thrusting against your face. You couldn't breath, and you didn't care, relishing in the sweet taste of the girl wrapped around you. You licked against her, pulling your fingers out.

You only pulled your head away from her when she tugged at your hair and loosened her legs, overstimulated. Dragging yourself back up the mattress, you next to her again, tugging her into your arms. Your bodies wrapped tightly around each other, as you both fought to regain breath. Her face was resting in the crook of her neck, and you pressed kiss after kiss to the top of her head, desperate to express your affection for her.

You felt yourself beginning to drift off, and forced yourself out of bed, into the bathroom. You returned to Ona with a wet washcloth, gently cleaning her up, before doing the same to yourself. Ona was laying on the bed, eyes closed as she sighed contentedly, clearly exhausted. You threw the washcloths into the laundry basket before collapsing onto the bed, and pulling Ona to lay against your chest. She placed a soft kiss the the underside of your jaw, before laying her head against you, tangling her legs with yours, and almost instantly falling asleep. You followed soon after, arms wrapped tightly around Ona, drifting off into sleep.

-----

You woke the next morning, stretching you arms out to find an empty mattress. Your eyes snapped open, searching for Ona, only to find the room empty. You blinked, before noticing her clothes that her clothes were missing from the floor as well. Ona was gone.

-----

hope you enjoyed :) i'll try to get the last part out tomorrow or wednesday.

also the number of woso fics i've read where men being creepy in a bar leads to realization / admittance of feelings...

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #patri guijarro #alexia putellas #mapi leon

[myillicitaffair]

One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr

Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.

Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.

Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.

1.8k

SIX MONTHS AGO:

A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.

Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.

I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.

A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.

The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.

You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.

With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.

As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.

What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.

Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.

The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.

“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.

I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.

A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.

I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.

“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.

“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”

The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.

And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.

That was the first night I ever came back home with him.

————

FOUR MONTHS AGO:

Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.

I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.

Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.

I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.

My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.

Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!

Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.

“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.

“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”

I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.

My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.

My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?

“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”

I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.

Everything stops, everything keeps going.

I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.

Oh, how screwed I am!

———

TWO MONTHS AGO:

The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.

Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.

As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.

He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.

His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.

The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.

A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.

“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.

“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.

“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.

As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.

I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.

When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.

Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.

Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.

Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.

Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.

Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.

“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.

Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.

———

PRESENT:

After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.

I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.

How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.

Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.

Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.

My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.

“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.

“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.

“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”

Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.

“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.

“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”

An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.

Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.

Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.

“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.

“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”

Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.

“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”

My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.

A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.

“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.

I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.

“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.

“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz f1 #argentina #ferrari #red bull f1 #red bull racing #mercedes benz #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #max verstappen #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #españa #madrid #romance #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #light angst #formula 1 #formula one

[lw6-woso]

Struggles (Barca Femeni x reader)

(gif is not mine)

Y/N L/N.

everyone knows your name.

the unstoppable 18 year old striker for both barcelona and England who was able to make young girls believe they can achieve anything at a young age. from winning the euros in 2022 including winning the young player of the tournament and the golden boot with scoring in every game you played in with England. and even more unbelievable when playing for Barcelona.

everyone knew and loved you it was hard not to, however you was a very private individual nobody anything about you really not even your team mates new much about her even though you have been playing along side them since the age of 16.

you had your little perks about yourself that make people think with how you played, your reactions to certain things and finally your habits of getting destracted when doing media fidgeting with your hair or fingers. they easily picked up on if people really anaysed your behaviour and the more that they looked and observe it all came together like a little puzzle piece,

you struggled massively deep down and the barca girls finally figured it out.

it was a normal day for the barca squad with it being a match day the only thing was that they were laying Real Madrid the teams rival everyone knew that whether you are in the academy, womens or men's team real madris were the biggest rivals. the team had made it to camp nou and they were sat in the changing rooms dancing and singing to music except one person you.

she was sat in her cub that was next to Alexias looking at the floor zoned out completely, the only people who noticed was Jenni and Alexia. they looked at each other from across the room confused, you never acted this way except when you had become ill with the flu but that had happened once you never get sick like EVER.

Alexia took it upon her self to drag you by the hand out of the changing room and into a deserted physio room that hadn't been used in year and was now a storage room. she moved you so you were sat on a seat and she asked

"hey are you okay you dont seem yourself"

"yeah i mean i havent been sleeping much must be coming down with something" i said quietly, after you had said that Jenni had walked in slamming the door louder than she had expected to making you jump out of your skin.

"hey chica"she said sitting next to me.

"im fine you guys dont have to worry" i said.

"no we are not doing this not today so your going to tell us what is wrong or ill bench you" Alexia said sternly.

Ale and jenni where your team mums ever since you arrive in barca they took you under they wings and protected you like there own, so they new everything and that included your little secret that you were hiding from the world, the fact that you had ADHD and had a long history of battling depression.

this came with a lot of issues with not just your career and education but everything in your life especially when it gets bad, and today you had a bad day, everyone has bad days and today was a bad day.

"im having a bad day i forgot that i had ran out of my ADHD medication and i have renewed it yet and my mind wont stop i just want to sleep" you said tears coming to your eyes clearing overwhelmed.

"hey hey its okay im going to go talk to jonaton okay see do youv feel up to playing today" jenni said.

"yes and no i dont know" you said confused and annoyed and jenni nodded and left to go see jonaton.

"come on lets get changed get some water and get warmed up see how you feel you might be a super sub today" Ale said hugging you.

"Ale," you asked.

"yeah" she asked.

"i want to tell everyone" you said.

"what the girls" she asked.

"yeah and the rest of the world i think it'll be good you know to tell my story my battle," you said.

"you never fail to amaze me you know that i think it's a great idea," she said and we walked into the changing rooms.

In that game it was decided for you not to play for your own well-being and you understood, you watched from the sideline watching your idles and your family thrash Real Madrid beating them 6-0.

everyone was on a high celebrating and you decided to do it then and there.

"guys," you said and the girls instantly stopped to listen.

"I thought you all deserved to know this I wanted to share that well I don't know how to say this but I have ADHD and I have suffered from depression it likes to creep back up in my life a lot and I want your help to raise awareness and help tell stories about mental health within the game I want to tell my story," they said and they all gave me small smiles, not smiles of sympathy but smiles of proudness and inspiration.

they all clapped and hugged me having a large group hug. and this is only the start of the long way to sharing everyone's stories within the wonderful game of football and the dark side that comes with it.

*3 months later*

i was sitting in a studio on my own cameras recording ready to tell me story one story out of the many stories that were going to be said, i had reached out to many big names in the footballing community and they were happy and ready to tell their story and help.

"Hi, I am Y/N and this is my story," you said.

"hi I am Alexia Putellas and this is my story"

"hi I am Leah Williamson and this is my story"

"hi im Viviane Miedema and this is my story"

"hi im Alex morgan and this is my story"

"hi my name is Ellen White and this is my story"

"hello im mason mount and this is my story"

"I'm Ian Wright and this is my story"

"everyone in the entire world has a voice no matter who you are or how you are struggling never be afraid to reach out you are not alone you will never be alone reach out, help others, and get help for yourself. your story matters just like all of ours we are no different from you everyone struggles some different from others you all have your story and that story and how you overcame your dark times could save someone else," you said.

the camera turned off and the screen turned black.

A/N-this was my first fic so please feedback would be appreciated the good and the bad :)

#woso community #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #barca femeni #mapi león #barca femini #leah williamson #jenni hermoso #woso fanfics #engwnt #espwnt #vivianne miedema #ingrid engen #women football #awfc

[sherrylephotography]

My photography @sherrylephotography

May 2023 El Retiro Park Madrid Spain .

The atmosphere was wonderful, families and couples walking around. We even saw people practicing dancing, so many statues and water fountains, places to eat and sit outdoors.

#original photography on tumblr #Madrid #spain #vacation spain #snapseed

[findingnemosworld]

𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧 - 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨.

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬.

( 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ? 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐭. )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.

If there's one thing Y/N disliked with passion, it was interviews, any kind of interviews.

Being hailed as one of the top ballerinas was an honor, she never took it for granted and always strived to better herself with every show she performed in - the world loved her and she loved to give back through the art of performing, and it was because that, she had met the love of her life ... Cristiano Ronaldo, the Portuguese star of Real Madrid.

It's one thing to find love, yet it's an entirely other thing if it was the person you had an affinity for most of your life.

Y/N was a die hard fan of Los Blancos - however, she'd worked so hard to conceal that so as to not appear weird in front of others, all the while she made sure to attend every match, be it for la liga or the champions league.

It never occurred her that the man she adored so much admired her dancing yet according to him, he admired how hardworking she was and how it reminded him of himself, small dinner dates here and there lead to a beautiful relationship forming a year later.

Contrast to the misconception people had of him, Cristiano had been nothing but sweet and attentive for her, and while she too had recieved a substantial amount of hate with some claiming that she's using him for fame and wealth, it seemed to not affect him seeing as he had told her that he knew her, the real her.

Nearing their two year anniversary, Cristiano was invited to be on the cover of GQ magazine and had worked his way into it becoming a joint cover for the two of them, along with an interview which would help. set the record straight in regards to their relationship.

The questions were fairy typical and tame, how do they go about with their routines? why they chose their respective careers? and what do they hope to accomplish in the near future, Y/N was visibly nervous however Cristiano had tried his best to silently reassure her by grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently while he continued to answer questions, and as they neared halfway through their interview, the questions had shifted into another direction.

" Y/N, have you always known the magnitude of Cristiano's fame? and how well known he was as a football player? "

Y/N smiled, then nodded before giggling. " Well, no one is blind to how impactful he's been as a Real Madrid player and a player for his national team? to me, that's one of the many things I admire about him, he's passionate about football, the same way I'm passionate about ballet "

" Did he turn you into a football fan? "

Y/N's face grows warm, " I am actually a football fan way before I met him "

" Really! " Cristiano raised a brow.

" Listen, I've kept this hidden so as to not appear weird but I am obsessed with football, I mean I'm Spanish and I was raised in a football loving household, so it wasn't hard not to fall in love with the sport and what it stands for " Y/N giggles.

" How come you've never told me that? " Cristiano wonders.

" It never came up " Y/N shrugs.

A few more questions later, and another question pops up that definitely embarrassed her.

" Y/N, who's your celebrity crush? "

Y/N hides her face which made Cristiano chuckle, " It's ok, I won't be mad "

" That's the thing " Y/N laughs softly, " My celebrity crush is the man I'm in love with "

Cristiano laughs, " Is that so? "

" Yes, I'm a fan after all " Y/N shrugs with a grin.

Once the interview wrapped up, they return home to rest before stepping out for dinner and that's when Cristiano asked her, " You had a crush on me huh? " he wraps his arms around her from behind.

Y/N smiles, " A big crush, that's why it was hard for me to be outspoken around you "

" Well to be fair " Cristiano chuckles, " I had a big crush on you as well, and here we are "

" I love you " Y/N smiles.

" I love you too " Cristiano kisses her cheek.

#cristiano ronaldo #cristiano ronaldo imagine #cristiano ronaldo x reader #cristiano ronaldo fanfiction

[korvessa]

Käärijä and Bojan meeting  -timeline (Part. 1)

So, I wanted to make a timeline about the eurovision preparties because I’ve been way too frustrated when people say that this is the first time that Käärijä and Bojan met:

When it is NOT!

So because it’s raining outside and I’m bored, I present to you: Käärijä and Bojan preparties timeline (part 1)

Preparties were held in:

Barcelona (23.3.2023)

Warsaw (1.4.2023)

Tel-aviv (3.4.2023)

Madrid (7.-8.4.2023)

Amsterdam (15.4.2023)

London (16.4.2023).

Joker Out participated in every pre-party, Käärijä participated in Madrid, Amsterdam and London.

1. Before Preparties, sometime in march: 

Bojan trying his best to learn cha cha cha (from Joker out’s instagram).

2. Barcelona 23.3.

Nothing particular here expect this cute moment from Joker out interview when they were asked to sing their favorite part of their song: 

Also watch Carpe Diem series ch. 3 from Joker Out youtube channel <3

3. Warsaw 1.4.

Again, nothing special, Käärijä in Finland doing gigs and losing his boleros, Joker out in Poland, Bojan very sick.

They were vibing to cha cha cha tho:

Really, you have to watch chapter 4 & 5 from Carpe Diem series. It’s on youtube. Here is the link.

4. Tel-aviv 3.4.

Bojan still sick, Käärijä still in Finland.

This time they danced to cha cha cha in party buss, there’s video somewhere in the internet.

5. Madrid 7.-8.4.

Now we are talking. The first party where Käärijä was also present. 

Madrid pre-party was two-day party and they met in the first day, April 7th.  I’m pretty confident that Käärijä had no idea until this party who Joker Out (or Bojan) was because he was pretty busy doing gigs back in Finland (and he also kind of admitted that he hasn’t listened all of the Eurovision songs at this point). At that point he had said that his favorites were Germany and Austria or any other song he had listened in this video.

On the contrary, Joker out had been very vocal about Käärijä in their twitter (and in their interviews): 

This was tweeted right after Käärijä won the UMK, in febuary 25th

Käärijä-pe Diem was later mentioned again by Bojan in his and Käärijä’s instagram live in May

Anyway, back to Madrid...

April 7th: The meeting

here is link to the video of Käärijä being very lost and kind of nervous because it is his first time meeting everyone (also you can see joker out behind him)

(Very loose translation: He is saying that the people there are really nice and that he is slowly getting better in english. He says that everybody is taking pictures together but not with him. Then he zooms to the mediapeople (they are waiting to go to do the interviews).

HERE is the first meeting (that we know of), everybody knows this video:

“wtf Bojan”

Cute photo of Käärijä and Joker out:

and this one from Käärijäs Instagram story:

After that, it was time to go to meet the media. Here is Joker out waiting for their interview. Käärijä is there in the backround and it seems that Bojan was pretty distracted by him (he kept glancing him like three times, bro you just met him chill out):

from this livestream 

This is the end of part one, see you in the second one. If you dare.

#Käärijä #Kaarija #bojan cvjeticanin #Joker out #Esc #esc 2023 #eurovision 2023 #käärijän #kaarijan #prepartyes #madrid preparty #Käärijan #idk i was bored #Youtube #Vimeo

[helakkas]

So, uh. The Käärijä/Bojan (friend)shipping thing has breached containment and was featured on the Finnish government-funded news site Yle.

Käärijä’s Eurovision bestie Bojan visited Finland - on social media, people enthused about the duo went crazy

Käärijä’s and Joker Out singer Bojan Cvjetićanin’s friendship is being hyped on social media. There is fanfiction written about them and Tiktok videos published about them.

[text under the picture: Käärijä and Bojan Cvjetićanin got to know each other during the Eurovision preparties. Now people can’t get enough of their friendship. Photo: Mikke Pöyhönen.]

Rest of the article translated under cut:

Social media exploded when Käärijä’s a.k.a Jere Pöyhönen’s best friend visited Finland.

Käärijä and Slovenia’s Eurovision respresentative, Joker Out’s singer Bojan Cvjetićanin, became friends during the Eurovision preparties. Last weekend fans got to see the reunion between the duo when Bojan visited Käärijä’s gig in Tavastia.

[link to a tweet depicting the Cha Cha Cha performance]

[link to a series of tweets picturing Tavastia gig]

Both also actively published videos on social media about Bojan’s trip to Finland.

In Tiktok videos Käärijä and Bojan are pumping a plastic flamingo in the shower of Tavastia and dancing behind pallets familiar from Eurovision.

In the Instagram story published between Monday and Tuesday night, they are watching Twilight together. “This is you and this is me,” Käärijä says and points first at Bella and then Edward.

On Tuesday morning, Käärijä escorted Bojan to the airport. He published an Instagram story from the airport that says “Miss you,” with the song My Heart Will Go On, familiar from Titanic, playing in the background.

People love Käärijä and Bojan’s friendship. Some hope that there would be something more between them.

With their social media content, they [Käärijä and Bojan] are fueling the flames.

[link to a tweet showing meme of Käärijä as Edward and Bojan as Bella]

[link to a tweet showing the meme “Käärijä and Bojan hanging out in Finland without context”]

Fanfiction and Tiktok videos

Shipping means matchmaking, bringing people romantically together. Characters are admired and at the same time there are speculations or hopes that they could be together.

Shipping can concern fictional character from movies, for example, but also real people. One of the most known cases is the friendship between One Direction singers Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, which was also speculated to be a romantic relationship. Shippers thought that the band members were secretly together and tried to find evidence for their theory. The duo was nicknamed Larry.

Tomlinson has later told that shipping damaged the friendship between him and Styles.

At the moment, Käärijä and Bojan have more than enough shippers. Or Böörijä - as the pair has been nicknamed.

Käärijä and Bojan’s new Tiktok videos are filled with comments like “really giving the people what they want” and “this level of fanservice is crazy.” Tiktok is also full of video edits made by fans where Käärijä and Bojan spend time together.

Besides Tiktok, the fictional relationship between Käärijä and Bojan has also been written about on the more traditional sites concentrated on fanfiction. For example, there are 190 stories about Käärijä and Bojan published on the fanfiction site Archive of Our Own. People have also drawn fan art or their own pictures of Käärijä and Bojan.

Käärijä and Bojan’s relationship is also discussed on, for example, Twitter, the Jodel channel @böörijä and Vauva.fi.

[link to Luh_lex’s fan art on Instagram]

[link to masha.grimm’s fan art of Instagram]

Shipping increases the popularity of artists

Käärijä and Bojan first met each other during the Eurovision preparty in Madrid. During Eurovision, they appeared in each other’s social media in several updates, they held an Instagram live together, and Käärijä playfully referenced to Bojan as his boyfriend in one video.

During one interview Bojan was asked if he was getting a baby seal with Käärijä. Fans were excited about the idea, and soon, a zoo located in Wien, Tiergarten Schönbrunn, offered the duo a chance to support the zoo’s sea lions for a year.

Bojan’s band Joker Out’s manager Gregor Zalokar also shared the news in his Instagram story. During Eurovision week, Zalokar also published a lot of other content about Bojan and Käärijä, which is why the friendship between the two has been suspected to be a publicity stunt.

[link to Gregor Zalokar’s Instagram picture of Bojan and Käärijä during Liverpool boat party]

Stunt or not, the friendship between Bojan and Käärijä is probably one of the reasons why the band Joker Out has the most listeners in Helsinki, according to Spotify statistics. Even if the friendship is sincere, it boosts the popularity of both artists. For example, the artists can get more visibility with Tiktok videos made by fans.

So it is no wonder that they also gladly give shippers something to speculate about, for example watching the romantic movie Twilight together.

Tuesday morning, when Bojan left Finland, he wrote in his Instagram story, “Thank you Jere, thank you Helsinki. I had a blast, see you soon.” Joker Out’s concert dates will be published on Wednesday, and fans think that Käärijä will in turn visit a gig of Bojan’s band.

So, the friendship of Käärijä and Bojan keeps on giving - soon, the shippers will get new material for Tiktok videos and fanfiction.

Watch the video down below to see Joker Out visit Käärijä’s travel sauna.

[video]

#i know people can just use google translate to read this but. the translation was idiotic in places and i had a free moment so here we are #anyway. this is. well. #kind of funny but kind of worrying at the same time #apparently the journalist hasn't heard of the fandom etiquette and just decided to tell about rpf to the whole of finland #käärijä #bojan cvjeticanin #eurovision 2023 #eurovision #joker out #käärijän #käärijan

[gabigabigabby]

headcanons | brazil national team

seleção brasileira x fem!reader

headcanons of other countries; portugal / england / argentina

a/n: i've always imagined how it'd be like to be friends with these guys. their group must be so much fun to be with. comfort national team ): lmk if you want a part two with the rest of the brazil guys! hope u enjoy ⭐️

synopsis: headcanons of the seleção brasileira during the world cup 🏆

—

neymar

u and ney met for the first time at the brazil world cup

u had been a fan of his since his glory days in santos and his starting years in barcelona

through ney, u got to know the brazil legends

say ricardo kaká, say phil coutinho, say roberto firmino; say literally any brazil player, u have met them before

no one would dare to touch u because ur ney's friend

that's how powerful he is

he always offers to take u out with brazil during the international break

after training, ney insists u and the guys play a friendly game

u could pick out ur team and all, it's very cute (in my head)

he makes sure u get the best seats to watch the game

he invites u to squad dinner after every game brazil had under their campaign

overall, he's just a really amazing dude

it's a blast to get to hang out w him

richarlison

besides u and neymar, richarlison is the other dude ur attached at the hip w

u think he's the funniest guy you've ever met

and he thinks ur the prettiest girl he's ever known

u helped him dye his hair platinum blonde for the world cup

yep it was u

he gave u the shirt he wore on the very first match of brazil's campaign

and u wore that shirt every time brazil had to square up until their loss against croatia

i feel like richy is the kind to invite u to his hotel room so he could get a shit ton of room service

kinda weird. but it's actually kinda cute

he would make jokes solely bc he wants to hear ur laugh

if u don't laugh at his jokes, he literally dies inside

he's pretty overprotective

more overprotective than neymar, i'd say

he'd always have his arm around u

his height also intimidates a lot of people so it helps

he just overall cares so damn much about u

amazing guy

vinicius jr

vini's the kind to tolerate everyone's bs

he kinda just laughs at the squad's antics

trust me, the guys are all weird in their own ways

vini's the neutral guy

he's weird

but then again, he isn't

tbh w u, he's only weird when rodrygo's around

every time u would come visit him and rodrygo and eder, he brings along his nephew to the bernabéu

his nephew loooooves u

bc of vini, u have every real madrid kit u could think of

u have his, rodrygo's, eder's, even benzema's

awesome dude, he cares a lot about his friends

ur lucky to be friends w vini

lucas paquetá

okay i lied

u think lucas is the funniest guy in the seleção

don't tell richy

only u would tolerate his antics

every time one of the guys get paired up with lucas on the plane, they'd ask if they could switch w u

bc only u could match w his shenanigans

his wife n kids LOVE u

i cannot stress that enough

they see u as family

tia y/n

u love benício and filippo the same

but pippinho's ur favorite, ur not fooling anybody

richy joins u guys sometimes

he's the same amount of crazy, not to worry

u and lucas would brainstorm different dance celebrations

u were the mastermind behind his celebration after his goal against south korea

u and lucas would send each other tiktoks every day

whether it be dance related or just mad dumb shit

u appreciate having lucas in ur life

u have always wanted a best friend like him

and now that u do, u never want to let him go

antony

u and antony are very parent-like to one another

u both are around the same age

antony being a few months older than u

he wouldn't live it down

"eu sou mais velho que você, respeite os mais velhos, y/n" [i'm older than you, respect your elder, y/n]

"então você admite que tá velho" [so you admit you're old]

u would joke w him ALL. THE. TIME.

"eu apoio todos os clubes, exceto o manchester united. porque você tá nele" [i support all clubs except manchester united. bc you're in it]

"okay, agora isso é apenas maldade, y/n" [okay, now that's just mean, y/n]

all jokes aside, he'd go livid if anybody ever hurts you

physically, mentally, all that shit

he cares so much

his heart is so huge

he wears it on his sleeve

and he's proud of it

#brazil #selecao #brasil #brazil national football team #neymar #richarlison #antony #gabriel jesus #lucas paqueta #thiago silva #gabriel martinelli #vinicius jr #rodrygo #Spotify

[mqsi]

bro ur really good a ta writting 👏❤❤❤

anyways can you write smut about fc barca players seeing readers preformance at idk a show for celebs or something ALSO the reader is belly dancing and singing hips don't lie, chantaje and ojos asi ( as if the reader was the original maker of the songs)

thanks love ya

Thank you love, I’ve seen your recent post and I just wanted to tell you that everything is gonna be okay, you’re strong. Here you go, I love you💓

warning: smut

——————————————————————————

You just released a new album, ads and campaings for it were everywhere. You ended up getting an invitation for an event in Madrid. It was meant to gather the young stars in the world from various professions. Some of the Barça players were there as well.

You did a short interview first before the staff led you to a small stage so you can perform a song or two from the album. On your way there you met eyes with a short brunette. You immediately recognized the face. Golden boy, Pedri.

His eyes weren’t leaving yours and you smiled, rushing to the stage.

As you got on, people started gathering around, eager to hear you sing live. Pedri nudged Gavi in the shoulder, whispering something in his ear before they made their way to you.

Music blasted from the speakers as you started singing. The song you chose to do was very dynamic and it needed a good dance choreography to follow. Your hips started moving to the beat, the outfit you were wearing was showing some skin here and there.

At first, you were sceptical about wearing it but the way Pedri was watching you, it seemed like the perfect choice now. His eyes were on your body the whole time. You were enjoying yourself, his gaze was boosting your ego and he knew by the way you smiled at him.

When you finished the performance, people gave you a round of applause. You thanked everyone but the the only thing on your mind was Pedri. You wanted to approach him but your eyes lost his form. You were guessing he had his interviews and what not and just let it be for now.

The rest of the event was quite boring with your thoughts drifting off to Pedri. You were unsuccessful with finding him for the rest of the night. Disappointed, you went back to your hotel only to be met with the person you searched for the entire night. Pedri and Gavi were in the lobby, talking to some people before heading to the elevator.

You weren’t really planning to chase after him but the circumstances gave you no other option. You pretended like you needed to chase the elevator, which was not really a lie after all.

Gavi noticed you running and stopped the doors from closing. You rushed in

“Thank you” and Gavi nodded.

Pedri turned his eyes from the phone and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. He stuffed the phone in his pocket, giving you full attention.

“That was a nice show, you sure know how to dance” he replied, reffering to your quite sensual dancing on stage just a few hours ago.

“Well thank you, you sure know how to stare”

Gavi snorted but soon composed himself as Pedri gave him a warning look.

“I would say you enjoyed my staring skills”

The elevator came to a stop, both boys needing to get off here. You were trying to think of a quick comeback or anything to say to keep talking to him when you heard Pedri whisper in your ear.

“room 268, I’ll be alone in an hour” he said, leaving you shocked and turned on.

An hour passed rather quickly with you taking a shower and trying to find the underwear that match your bra the most,but at the end decided to just go without one. You weren’t really planning to get laid on your trip to a celebrity event but I guess you never know.

You nervously made your way to his door, knocking. Pedri opened, greeting you in a pair of shorts and a basic t shirt.

“I wasn’t sure If you’d actually come” he said, stepping to the side so you can enter the room. He locked the door behind you.

“You’re sharing this room?” You said, placing your phone down as the only thing you brought with you.

“Yes, with Gavi, but he ain’t sleeping here tonight” he said making his way on the balcony. You followed behind him, getting comfortable in one of the chairs. The balcony was pretty high up, giving you a stunning view of the city shining in the night.

“So, what made you come?” Pedri asked, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the railing.

You looked up at him from your spot “You”

“Oh yeah? Show me”

You got up from your seat, now standing in front of him. He looked you up and down, a slight smile plastered on his face.

“I mean, not wearing a bra speaks for itself” he said, now looking at your nipples that were visible against the tight tank top.

You stepped closer, one hand pulling apart his from his chest. “Well, I said I came here for you”

Pedri pulled you in by your waist, crashing your lips together in a messy kiss. Hands roaming your body, eventually coming to your breasts, teasing your nipples trough the material. You moaned in his mouth, one hand sneaking down to the bulge in his shorts. You stroked him a bit before sinking down on your knees.

“So needy, aren’t you? Gonna suck my dick here?” he said, pulling your hair from your face.

You smiled up at him, pulling the shorts and boxers down. Cold air on his bare cock made Pedri hiss, urging you to take him in your warm mouth. You gave him a few playful tugs before licking the tip. Soon, your mouth enveloped him, his hands tangling in your hair.

Pedri threw his head back, the wind ruffling his hair. He opened his eyes for a moment, met with the starry sky. You kept sucking him off, enjoying his sounds that were muffled by the streets.

Pedri pulled you back by your hair, breathing heavy.

“As much as I want to cum down your throat, I really want to fuck you as well”

Smirking, you got up and rushed back into the room. Pedri pushed you against the glass walls,kissing down your neck. He made quick work of your clothes, pressing you against the glass. You squirmed from feeing the cold material against your nipples.

All of this made you dripping wet, just waiting for him to fill you up. “Pedri,please”

He laughed behind you, one hand grabbing his cock, pushing it trough your folds, coating him in your juices. You whined when you felt him push in, stretching you out so deliciously. He grunted against your ear.

His hips soon found a steady pace, keeping his hands on your hips, ocasionally gripping them.

“It seems these are not just for dancing, ha?” He said, pulling out and slamming back into you.

You moaned, pushing your ass back, urging him to continue. He pressed your cheek against the cold surface.

“Fuck, you love being fucked like this? Pressed up against the glass? I wonder what would people think If the glass weren’t tinted”

You could only moan his name over and over again, his cock hitting all the right spots. Pedri’s hand went to your clit, working in circles. You could feel tears of pleasure forming.

“Go on, cum for me bonita”

A few more snaps of his hips and you were gone, his strong arms holding you up. He was close himself, thrusts sloppy, chasing the orgasm. Muttering curses under his breath, Pedri came on your ass, smearing the cum with his cock.

You looked back at him from the glass

“I hope there are more events you’re invited to”

——————————————————————————

you didn’t specify who so I chose Pedri, I think he fits this better than Gavi.

a/n: poor Gavi sleeping on the floor at someone elses room so Pedri can fuck

#pedri gonzalez #footballer imagine #pedri fanfic #pablo gavi #pedri #x reader #pedri barça #gavi #pedri blurb #pedri smut #pedri one shot #pedri x y/n #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x you

[jadeiteee]

Behind the closed doors! cs55

This is for the anon that requested muslim reader x Carlos, I accidentally deleted the req bcs am a dumbass😔😔

In the bustling streets of Madrid, a love story was born. It wasn’t meant to be, you were so different, but the heart wants what it wants.

You felt his presence before you saw him, standing behind you, glaring at the man who was flirting with you. “Fuck off” he grunted, staring daggers as the man scurried off.

“Carlos” you glare at him “what was that for?” You rolled your eyes. “He was staring at you” he uttered posessively, his hands slipping to hug your waist.

You shot him a glare and swatted his hand “we are in public, Carlos.” You warns him “the media will pick this up in a flash”

“Relax cariño, they won’t notice” he smiled cunningly as you rolled your eyes 

“You don’t need to be so possessive and chase away every guy who looked at my way” you scoffed, crossing your arms in annoyance 

Carlos's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of remorse. "I know, cariño," he sighed, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "But I can't stand seeing anyone else look at you like that."

Despite your irritation, you couldn’t seem to hide the fact that it warmed your heart how much he loved you, melting all your irritation away. 

“Let’s get out of here” you said softly, your voice muffled by the crowd, but he somehow managed to pick it up

He holds your hand as you both escape from the loud and bustling party, laughing and giggling like childrens, not giving any care about the world, just you, and him.

You both sat quietly at his car, trying to catch your breath, the loud bustling city around you seemed to quiet down, it felt like the world had stopped and it is just you now.

He started the car as he drove to his apartment, jokes and laughter filling the air, not caring about the media for once, it is just you and him now.

Once you arrived to his apartment, he carried you into his room and dropped you there, plopping into the bed after the tiring night, only wanting to rest, but Carlos decided he doesn’t want to, he started tickling you while giggling like a child

“Carlos” you said giggling while trying to avoid his tickles, “leave me alone!” You tried to avoid him, but what can a normal person do against a literal athlete?

Carlos grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he reached out to tickle you once more. "Come on, cariño," he teased, his fingers dancing across your skin. "You know you love it."

You squealed and squirmed, trying in vain to escape his relentless assault. "Stop it, Carlos!" you laughed, your words punctuated by bursts of giggles. "I surrender!"

That didn’t stopped him from continuing his antics as he continues to tickles you, burst of laughter echoes in the room.

You both plopped into the bed after 30 minutes of wrestling, giggling and laughing as you both cuddled into bed, not aware of what was gonna happen in the morning.

You wake up with the sound of two people talking, you whined a little as you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lights around you as you saw your bestfriend Bianca standing there with her arms crossed, talking to Carlos

You blinked a few times trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream “Bianca..? Why are you here?” You muttered slowly, trying to wake yourself up

“You made the news” she handed you her phone, “A mysterious girl and Carlos Sainz were spotted at a party in Madrid.” You saw the headline of the news with a picture of you and Carlos last night.

“Fuck” you cursed slowly, reading through the news, luckily your face was not pictured but people have started hating on you.

You felt your stomach sinking as you read the comments beneath the article. People were speculating about your relationship with Carlos, making assumptions and spreading rumors without knowing the truth.

Carlos placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his expression filled with concern. "Don't worry, cariño," he said softly. "We'll handle this together."

You feel anxious, but you know Carlos will protect you, as long as you two are together, anything else doesn’t matter.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #Carloz sainz fluff

[cherryxcadbury]

Idk if you write for TAA but I thought in which you’re famous maybe like a writer or idk. Not model or singer, something different because people are delighted that he didn’t choose a “fake” girl, because you’re smart and show in his games every time you can.

this is my oldest request, from almost a year ago. apologies anon.

y/n-your name

2nd person pov

Post match meant time to celebrate and relax. Usually anyways.

It was Sunday, the day after the champions league final, where Liverpool had lost to Real Madrid.

Since then, all the WAGs, players, and coaching staff had made it home from Paris.

And currently, a smaller group of you were gathered around the sitting room of the Van Dijk’s home. Virgil and his wife Rike, stood ready to get whatever anyone needed as hosts.

Captain Jordan Henderson & his wife Rebecca were seated, squished on a small seat.

Andy Robertson, your boyfriend’s best friend was on the floor with a beer in hand, with his wife Rachel seated right behind him on a chair.

As for you and Trent, you two were seated on a slightly smaller sofa, squished, but content.

Usually Mo and his wife, who you’d spent lots of time talking to, managed to find time to come to these gatherings but their daughter had fallen ill.

“I just dunno how the fans will receive us.” Jordan confessed, with his head in his hands.

“If I were a fan I’d want to physically assault myself after yesterday.” Andy groaned.

“I fucked up bad.” Trent mumbled into your ear.

You lightly slapped his knee, telling him not to think such thoughts.

“Heads up guys. We win as a team, we lose as a team.” Virgil comforted everyone.

“You lot have got the FA cup parade tomorrow. That’s something to look forward to.” Rachel brought up, trying to add cheer to the conversation.

“Not the same as a champions league trophy.” Trent groaned.

Rebecca stood up, beckoning Rike & Virgil to sit down.

“We need to change the topic guys. If we keep talking about the defeat you guys are going to moping all the way until next season and into the World Cup.” She suggested.

“So change of topic anyone?” Andy asked, taking another swig of his beer.

“How about that Y/N’s latest book has just won a Pulitzer Prize.” Trent offered the newest bit of information.

You whipped your head in his direction. You hadn’t thought that he’d remember or had even noticed with all of the matches and finals going on.

When your eyes met Trent’s, all you could see in his face was pure love and joy.

“I’m so so proud of you.” He said into your ear.

Your heart swelled with happiness. You felt on top of cloud nine despite yesterday’s events in Paris.

“Y/N that’s amazing!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Was it Life as We Know it?” Rachel asked, referring to the novel of yours which had been an international success in the last year.

You nodded, “Yeah that was it.”

“I need to tell the team.” Jordan got out his phone and started texting rapidly.

You blushed, these very public gestures always made you feel shy. Shy but appreciated.

“This calls for a toast. Let me help with the drinks.” Rebecca, Rike, and Virgil made their ways to the kitchen to get some more wine and beer.

“WOOOO Y/N IS THE BEST WRITER EVER!” Andy’s hands shot up in the air and he started dancing around.

You and Trent looked over at each other. You tried to hide your laughter by snuggling into his chest, but it was impossible.

Andy was Andy. The loud, hilarious Scotsman.

*** “A toast. To Y/N. For making our dark days, brighten with some light.” Trent raised his glass, as the others followed.

You did the same, giving everyone a grateful smile, especially Trent.

You looked at everyone around you, they were happy yes. But as you squinted further you could still see the sad looks in their eyes. The stinging pain of the loss didn’t just go away like that.

“Thank you guys. I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s okay to feel bad for yourselves you know. A champions league final is a big thing. You can’t just get over it in less than twenty four hours. Don’t let me be the reason you have to suppress your emotions.” You told them honestly.

“The channels did say that you guys had quite a few things you needed to work on.” Rike responded.

“The different in caliber between us and Madrid was incredibly large.” Jordan agreed.

“Let’s hear them then.” Trent started.

“Y/N. You go first. You always have the best insight and you never share it with anyone except us.” Rachel began, gesturing to her, Rike, and Rebecca.

Trent shared a knowing smile with you. He knew how analytical you were. How easy it was for you to immediately spot the flaw in the lineup and what’s substitutions needed to be made.

“Well,” You sighed.

This wasn’t going to be easy. There was a lot.

“Your defense was lacking for the majority of the match. When they finally stepped up, it was too late. You guys didn’t press enough until the match was basically over. And essentially, you let yourself be outplayed. It didn’t help that Courtois was a wall of steal either.” You explained.

“You have a good back line for the most part. Just need to strengthen the weak areas, like tracking back. And as for up front, you need to work on converting those shots.” You finished.

“This is better insight than what Klopp gave us yesterday.” Jordan murmured.

“I’m texting everything you said to him right now. Thank you so much YN.” Virgil smiled, his thumbs rapidly moving on his smartphone screen.

Trent drew close to you and pressed a kiss against your cheek.

“My beautiful, intelligent girl. I’m so so lucky to have you.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you for mentioning the Pulitzer Prize. I thought you’d forgotten to be honest.” You confessed.

He rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re too incredible for me to forget anything about you. You’re on my mind every second of everyday.” Trent smiled at you.

“You guys are gross.” Andy furrowed his eyebrows at you and Trent, a small smile playing on his lips.

this is a bit of a mess. thank you for bearing w me

#trent alexander arnold #taa #alexander arnold #taa imagine #Trent Alexander Arnold imagine #Trent Alexander Arnold imagines #Trent Alexander Arnold fanfic #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #Trent x reader #trent imagine #liverpool #england nt #champions league #football imagines #virgil van dijk