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trulyhblue · 3 months

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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more

Back To You

Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.

A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!

__________________

Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.

You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.

But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.

You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.

You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.

“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.

Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”

You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.

Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.

“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.

You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.

“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.

“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”

“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.

You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.

Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.

“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”

You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.

“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered.

Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”

You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”

“Good.”

You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.

You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.

The whistle blew, and you were off.

Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.

You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.

The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.

You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.

You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.

You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.

The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.

“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.

Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”

You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.

You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.

Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.

You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.

The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.

You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.

On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.

You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.

You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.

“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”

“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”

Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”

You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.

The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.

Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.

Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.

The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.

It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.

“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”

“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.

“I'm not the one always falling—”

“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.

You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.

You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.

“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”

The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.

You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.

“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”

It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.

Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.

The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.

The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.

Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.

The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.

“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.

Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”

“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.

“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.

“That was years ago, Kerr.”

Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.

Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.

Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.

“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.

“You did so well today, baby.”

You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.

“Want to show you how proud I am.”

She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.

“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.

“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”

“Niamh, I—”

“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”

You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.

You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.

When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.

You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.

“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.

“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.

“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.

You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”

“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”

“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”

“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”

She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”

Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”

“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.

“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”

“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”

Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”

When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.

Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.

“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”

“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.

Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”

When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”

“I am! Just want you, though.”

Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.

This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.

She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.

You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.

When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”

“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.

“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”

You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.

“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”

You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”

Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.

“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”

Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.

“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”

You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.

“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”

Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.

But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.

You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.

The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.

You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.

The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.

You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.

“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”

“I was so close.”

“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”

“Niamh, that’s—”

She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.

She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.

“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”

She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.

“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”

“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.

“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”

“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”

She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.

“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”

“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”

You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.

“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”

“Fuck, baby, say my name.”

You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.

The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”

Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.

“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.

You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.

You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.

Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.

“We’re not done yet, love.”

You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.

_______________________

A/N — oh my god.

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kamotecue · 8 months

Note

Ooo we’re gonna need a KCC fic after her move to the arsenal

my heart has a little crush on you ✮ k. cooney-cross

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x reader

summary: it’s not a secret that you developed a small crush over a certain midfielder at the world cup, when you played against them. lioness!reader

warning(s): mentions of suicide.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“you’re absolutely joking?” you asked leah who gave you a small smirk that you desperately wanted to get rid of.

“i’m not kidding, l/n. kyra just signed a two year deal with arsenal, it seems you’d be seeing your crush sooner or later.” leah said. you haven’t checked your instagram yet, so you’ve heard from your skipper about kyra’s transfer.

despite leah not playing at the world cup, she was like an older sister figure for you. she’s the only one who knows about your crush on the australian midfielder.

“i’m absolutely screwed.” you said, as leah chuckled at your reaction.

“oh, come on l/n. it can’t be that bad?” you groaned as you thought about what happened at the world cup.

you had defeated the matildas in the semi-finals, when the whistle had blown you watched as your team celebrated. but you had taken the chance to comfort them, they did great after all, and the future is bright for the matildas.

you wanted to exchange shirts with kyra but when you were in front of her, you had tripped on the pitch sending the two of you to the ground.

“i accidentally tripped lee, sending both of us to the ground!” you yelled as leah grinned at you.

“but you still ended up getting the shirt.” you gave her a look, that was not the point. the point was your first interaction with her was bad, like really bad.

“yeah, it was still a mess.” you said, as she just shook her head.

it wasn’t that long before the team returned to london, after training at the adidas headquarters in germany.

you were late for the first time, as you swung open the door, you came face to face with leah who gave you teasing look.

“look who’s late.” katie teased giving you a grin, as you rolled your eyes at her behavior.

“it’s too early, mccabe.” you told the irish full-back as she snickered but held her hands up. you looked at lia who gave you a comforting smile, which you returned.

you removed your coat as it’s a bit chilly outside, not noticing a certain aussie behind you.

“you have a tattoo?” you accidentally had dropped your boots on your feet, a wince escaped your throat as lotte gave you a certain look.

you turned around coming face to face with the aussie who had been occupying your mind. she had a soft smile wore on her face, her dimples were shown which made you swoon.

“yeah, it’s the moon meets the stars.” you felt a lump in your throat as you cleared it. it wasn’t just a tattoo, there was a meaning behind it.

you felt leah’s eyes on you as she knew the meaning behind it. you didn’t like talking about it, because it reminded you about the past.

“is there a meaning behind it?” kyra asked, as you heard someone stood up abruptly.

“maybe one day, you’ll find out cooney-cross.” you said, as you pulled over the work out tank top that had the arsenal crest.

“alright guys, let’s head onto the pitch. it’s time for training.” kim said, as she entered the locker room clapping her hands. you gave kyra a small smile, before heading to leah who gave you a pat on the back.

throughout the whole training, you were a bit more quiet than usual. the team noticed it as you had a few sloppy shots on target, but had perfect first touches, you possessed the ball very well.

but they never scolded you for it, sure they gave you a look that you received, yet it was just that. as the training came to a break, you laid on the pitch. an arm was behind your neck, supporting it while your other arm was over your eyes, blocking the sun.

“are you alright, y/n?” kyra asked, as you removed the arm only to see her taking a seat beside you.

“i’m alright, you?” kyra gave you a soft nod, as she answered your question.

“i’m great, it’s a dream to be playing here.” you gave her a soft nod, understanding her. you couldn’t believe it when arsenal had offered you a three year contract, you currently have a year left once this season ends.

“i didn’t overstep, did i? when i asked you about the tattoo?” you shook your head, as you sat up straight.

“you didn’t, kyra don’t worry. the tattoo is for my bestfriend who died because she committed. i got this to honor her.” you said, as your voice broke at the end. kyra’s eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know.” you chuckled, giving kyra a soft smile who looked a bit confused.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. like you said you didn’t know.” she gave you a lopsided grin, as you tilted your head.

“would you perhaps want to go out one day?” kyra asked as you looked at her a bit confused.

“like on a date?” your eyes widened, as kyra gave you a small smile.

“when we were against each other, you caught my eyes. it was hard trying to not look at you.” kyra said, as you gave her a soft smile.

“i’d love to, you also did caught my eyes cooney-cross.” you said, as you spent the rest of the break making a small conversation, not noticing the way your teammates looked at you.

steph and caitlin were talking, as leah looked at you with a proud grin.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross imagine #kyra cooney cross x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine

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herpsandbirds · 4 months

Text

Brilliant Blue Skipper (Paches loxus), family Hesperiidae, Colombia

photograph by Pat Cole

#skipper #butterfly #hesperiidae #paches #lepidoptera #insect #entomology #animals #nature #south america

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ragingbookdragon · 3 months

Text

It’s an odd moment when he receives the text from Captain MacTavish that simply says, I need to see you, Lieutenant. Now. Because the old man only ever calls him Lieutenant when he’s in trouble, and JJ can’t remember doing anything worth mentioning that would merit being called to see the Skipper. Regardless, he shoots back a quick, Yes, sir. And books it, appearing moments later in Captain MacTavish’s office, eyes widening in shock when he sees the older man sitting in the seat across from the old man.

“Simon?” He asks, confusion bleeding into him, and then it instantly turns to concern; Captain only calls him Lieutenant when he’s in trouble. He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s someone else. Mum. Mum’s in trouble. “Is mum okay? Where is she? What’s going on? Simon, wha—” He’s so panicked, he can barely get the words out.

“Lieutenant Price,” Captain MacTavish booms. “Easy, son. Y’ur mum’s fine.”

JJ’s shoulders droop a bit as he looks to Simon who returns him an easy look. “Missus is fine. I just needed to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t’ve, I dunno, sent a text? Called?” His face darkens and he glares at Captain MacTavish. “You scared the shit outta me, sir. I thought I was in deep shit. Respectfully, sir.”

Captain MacTavish raises a brow. “‘Ave ya done anythin’ tha’ ya need to be in shite about?”

“Never, sir,” JJ replies almost cheekily. “I’m the golden child. I never get in trouble. It’s why Lieutenant Garrick always gets in trouble instead of me.”

“Bull,” Captain MacTavish snorts, glancing at Simon. “Good to see ya again, Simon. Drop by soon, yeah?”

“Will do, Captain,” Simon says with a grin, shakes his hand and turns, putting a hand on JJ’s back to lead him away from the office.

“So, what’s going on, Simon?” He asks. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“No wonder you were accepted into the SAS. You’re deduction skills are imperceptible.”

JJ glares at him. “You’re a real smart-ass, you know that, don’t you?”

Simon noogies him. “Passed it on too.” He leads them into a meeting room. “Wanted to talk to you about somethin’ important. Involved ‘ur mum.”

“Is she—”

“She’s fine. I promise,” he stresses. “But it does involve ‘er.”

JJ looks at him, brows furrowing. “You look…nervous. I can count on two hands how many times I’ve ever seen it. This moment makes two hands.” He’s the same height as Simon now, actually a few inches taller; he almost has to crane his neck to look down at him. “What’s up?”

Simon clears his throat, inhales and exhales before he pats his pockets from his jeans to his shirt to his jacket pocket before he pulls out a small black box and hands it over to JJ who opens it, eyes widening at the solid gold band nestled inside, a more delicate diamond band sitting next to it.

JJ looks to him and Simon’s lips purse as he murmurs, “I wanted to ask you before I asked her.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “Not for formality…but…”

“Because I’m her son.”

“Because you’re his son,” Simon replies. “I want you to be okay with it. If not…I understand. Won’t change how I feel about your mum, of course. I’ll still stay. She…she means everything to me. So, you do.”

“Simon,” he says lowly.

The older man bypasses him, leans against the table and hangs his head. “I know what this means. I know it changes everything, and I’m not trying to hurt you. I love your mother. I have for a very long time. Like I said, it doesn’t change if you say no, but I—”

“Simon,” JJ interrupts with a calm smile and the man falters; he reaches out, lays a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ve spent my entire life introducing you and mum as my parents. In my eyes, you’ve been married.”

“You…you’re okay with it?” Simon asks quietly.

JJ pulls his hand away, closes the ring box and pulls the man into a hug. “I love my mum. I loved my father. And I love you, Simon.” He pats the man’s back. “I happily give you my blessing to marry mum.”

Simon’s eyes gather tears, and he clears his throat heavily as he wraps his arms around the younger man, hugging him tightly. “I was scared of askin’ you…I didn’t want to discredit his memory.”

He leans back and looks at the man. “My father would be honored that you took care of us all these years. And I think he’s doing just fine knowing that mum’s heart is being loved after all these years too.”

Simon gazes at him, lifts a hand and gently brushes his head. “I’ve ‘ad nothin’ but respect for your dad all these years. I’ve tried to do right by what ‘e asked of me. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to fall in love with ‘er, but I really do love your mum.”

“I know you do,” he replies, grin practically breaking his face. “And I know you love me too.”

“I do,” Simon affirms. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever been able to do all my life. The greatest accomplishment. My pride.”

JJ feels his throat tighten; it wasn’t often that Simon ever truly opened himself up. “I’m proud that you’re my dad.”

“I love you, son,” Simon murmurs, pulling JJ back in for a hug, this time, his hand rests on the back of his neck, thumb brushing where his spine connects to his skull.

“I love you, dad,” he replies, and he feels like a seven-year-old boy again who just lost his father, hands clenching in the back of a younger Simon’s sweatshirt as he buries his face in the man’s stomach, remembering what it was like to be loved by a father like Captain Jonathan Price.

#task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #price x reader #price #captain price #jonathan price #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty #jj price

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babyjujubee · 26 days

Text

Pat Skipper, Rami Malek., Benny Safdie, Alden Ehrenreich and Robert Downey Jr. Oppeneheimer (2023)

#alden ehrenreich #pat skipper #rami malek #benny safdie #robert downey jr.#oppenheimer #babyjujubee #adoring alden ehrenreich #tumblr #gif #google

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skipper1331 · 6 months

Text

Swimmer // Mary Earps

a/n: based off this request:

Your alarm rang exactly at 6am but you were awake already. Too nervous and excited to sleep through the whole night. "Shut it off" Mary grumbled, tightening her arm around your torso. "I need to get up" you told her softly, trying to wiggle out of her grasp. "Mary!" you laughed as she smacked her other arm around you, pulling you on top of her.

"Sleep"

"No"

"Cuddle me"

"No"

"Love me"

"No"

"You do though" she replied with closed eyes, squeezing her arms that were around you as she wiggled her upper body which was laid underneath you.

"I have a competition to be" you told her sternly as you pulled yourself up, now straddling her lap.

"It‘s not until noon, is it?"

You hummed in agreement, slowly getting off her as she just grumbled again, "and you‘re leaving me at 6am, don‘t you love me?" you sighed at her antics, silently giggling at the lover girl.

As you walked into the bathroom, ready to take your shower, you didn’t hear the goal keeper leave your shared bed. She made her way in the kitchen, starting to prepare your special pre-swim-breakfast. It was a mixture out of everything, fruit and vegetables, sweet and salty, yummy and necessary.

She knew the meal by heart, many times prepared already. Mary was your biggest supporter, your number one fan. She would be at every swim contest, at every important competition of yours.

After your shower, you patted in the kitchen, smelling the familiar smell of your breakfast. Snuggling your arms around the lioness from behind, you kissed along her neck as a thank you. You had told her often before that she didn‘t have to get up when it was her day off or late training just to make you breakfast but she always did. And will forever do.

It was the least she could do for you, in her eyes. In your eyes, she already did enough by loving you.

"Thank you, I love you"

Mary sat in the stands next to Lessi and Ella as she nervously bit her nails. "Stop that" Leah smacked the back of her head, stopping her from biting the varnish of her nails. "She‘ll do great" Ella stated as she squeezed Mary’s thigh comfortingly.

"Hm" the united player wasn‘t listening, just watching you talking to your coach. You were in your swim gear, the swimsuit skin-tight.

The whole lionesses squad sat beside and behind Mary, something that wasn‘t a sight you saw often. The girls were total sweethearts, especially Mary’s United friends which you also considered as your own friends.

You didn‘t even know they would be there, Mary hadn‘t said a word.

Unknown to you, Mary had sent a text to each lioness asking if they want to come support you - at one of the major tournaments in your career.

The goalie watched you like a hawk, she felt confident - you were a great swimmer yet she knew your opponents. The two of you had spent hours watching footage of them, their strength, their weakness.

Your opponents were great as well.

It was the same like in Mary’s club career. Even though she didn‘t play in the same team as Rachel Daly or Millie Bright for example - they were still great.

Ten minutes later, you walked to your start, getting ready in position. You looked one last time at Mary, smiling fondly at her, the goalie already with her eyes on you. She matched your smile, giving you a small but assuring nod, you can do it.

And you did.

Your one motivation was Mary - to bring that trophy home to her.

The lionesses watched you gliding through the water, it looked majestic in a mesmerizing way - exciting. No one cheered, you wouldn‘t hear them as Mary had told them often enough. It was always just: keep your fingers crossed. And all of them did so. Mary prayed that your hard work would pay off while the skipper had a stern face watching the scene in front of her, Tooney and Russo nervous wrecks beside Mary. So many different emotions, yet one was the same as you arrived the finish 'line' - joy. As your head popped up, you pulled down your goggles and swimming cap, grinning widely. Your opponents finishing just now. You did it. You won. As you lifted yourself out of the pool, Mary’s eyes roamed over your body, the way your arm and leg muscles flexed. Then she quickly checked if other people were looking - no one was allowed to look besides her. You gave the goalie a little wave before you grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your body. Your coach was clapping your cheeks happily, pushing you towards Mary before the ceremony would start.

Pressing a quick and firm kiss to your lips, the United player slung her arm around you, not caring if you were wet, "I’m so proud, baby" she told you with hearts in her eyes, a wide smile displayed on her cheeks.

"Am too" Alessia added as the girls congratulated one after one. "This is so cool, you know but it‘s so damn hot in here" Maya stated as her jeans was rolled up, "this one" pointing to Mary "hasn’t told me that I would burn in here" she grumbled, fanning cool air against her face with her hand.

"Don‘t worry, she always does this" you smiled, "she thinks she‘s cool" you whispered, winking. The goal keeper squeezed your hip as she pulled you up your front, "young lady!" she gasped. Just as she was about to kiss you, you slipped out of her arms, "have to gooo" you grinned, hop running to your coach.

With pride in her eyes, she watched you receive your medal, a proud smile covering her cheeks as she rapidly clapped her hands, animating all of the others girl to follow her quick clapping yet her clapping was the loudest - who would‘ve thought.

With the trophy in your hand the press took some photos (you had your tracksuit on) and then some pictures with your coach.

After all the media stuff, you went for a quick shower, packing your back before you walked to the car with damp hair, Mary waiting there.

"My love" she smiled, outstretching her hand for you to take which you gladly excepted, "baby" you giggled as the girl pressed kisses along your neck and jaw, showing how proud she was, "I love you"

Pushing her away slightly, "I love you too".

The charmer she was, she kindly opened you the door, before she hopped around the car, taking a seat in the drivers seat. With your passenger princess privileges your phone was already connected Reneé Rapp‘s voice filling the car as you sang along.

"And here the trophy" Mary stated proudly as she found the perfect place for it. On top of the shelf in the middle of the living room, "look at it"

"Don't you think that's a bit noticeable?" you asked with red cheeks, suddenly embarrassed that she was hyping you up, "no no, baby. This is perfect. Everybody can see it" she smiled fondly, hearts in her eyes as her arms went around your waist.

"Exactly"

"Is someone getting shy?" with her nose she bobbed yours, pecking your lips a few times as you nodded shyly.

"You should be proud, baby. Because I am" peppering kisses across your face, you laughed at her childish behavior which made you so happy - your goofball.

Tapping your but, her famous grin spread across her face, "this is going to be your throphy shelf!"

"No-"

"End of discussion"

And for once, it was indeed because the goalies lips were already kissing along your skin, making your heart race and knees wobble.

She would show you how proud she really was.

————————

#mary earps #mary earps x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #man united women #manchester united x reader #manchester utd women #man utd women #manchester united women #lionesses #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #alessia russo #ella toone #maya le tissier

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poisonousquinzel · 6 months

Text

wish i could rip her from me

she's like a fucking disease

no way of running when I'm running from the v i l l a i n in me

Harleen (2019) Cover by Stjepan Šejić

Harleen (2019) #3 by Stjepan Šejić

Suicide Squad (2016) #8 Cover by Lee Bermejo

Suicide Squad (2016) #8

Writers: Rob Williams Pencilers: Jim Lee Inkers: Scott Williams, Richard Friend, Sandra Hope Colorists: Jeremiah Skipper Letterers: Pat Brosseau Editors: Brian Cunningham, Harvey Richards, Andy Khouri

Suicide Squad (2011) #6

Pencilers: Clayton Henry Inkers: Scott Hanna, Clayton Henry Colorists: Val Staples, Hi-Fi Design

Harley Quinn: Black + White + Red #1 Cover by Stjepan Šejić

Harley Quinn: Mad Love (Novel) Cover

#i love her a normal amount #<3333 #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dc comics #dcedit

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jsprnt · 4 months

Text

Healing Hearts PT. 16 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: sending you all the love you might need on this day <3 enjoy!

WC: 4.217

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

"Right that's perfect." I state, giving Ryan a high five. "You've improved a lot." I tease, patting his shoulder. He smiles, giving me one of his pearly smiles as he stands up.

Recovery day would always be one of my favorite days at this job. No stressing, just rejuvenation.

We did have to keep in mind that we have another match tomorrow, this time for the Carabao Cup against Bournemouth.

We decided to mostly focus on recovery as that was the most important thing right now. Especially, to prevent any problems down the road.

"Of course, you still act like I'm a teenager!" He retorts, looking down at me. Damn, was he getting taller or was I going crazy?

"Can you blame me-"

The sudden feeling of something hitting my leg makes me stop talking, looking down to see a ball roll away from my feet.

I look up to find the perpetrator, a smug Curtis looking at me.

"Excuse me! We're actually busy here!" I shout, giving him a half serious look, folding my arms up to my chest.

"Sorry Doc, two touch got too intense. Right, Harv?" He says, looking over to a equally smug looking Harvey.

"Curt, do you ever leave y/n alone?" I hear, snapping my head to see Virgil walk over. His tatted arm overwhelmingly distracting. An immediate rush of adrenaline flowing through my body.

"I'm sure you would want me to." Curtis replies and I send a cold glare, raising my eyebrows in warning. One more word and I'd rob him of those 500 pounds.

I hear muffled chuckles somewhere in the gym, but don't dare to move another inch.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Dr. Davis right now?" I change the topic, tapping the watch on my wrist.

He huffs, and I kick the ball back to Harvey.

"Come on, go on." I usher Curtis, waving my hand.

I turn to Ryan again, dismissing him with a smile and grab my folder off of the floor. Checking for the next player I had to observe.

I look up, making eye contact with Virgil. The look in his eyes speaking millions of words.

"Your turn." I fake sigh, trying to hide the smile on my face, tapping my shoe on the mat multiple times.

Thankfully, we had to begin at the exercising equipment in the far corner in the room, being able to ignore some glances from the other players. They didn't even try to hide their chuckles and whispers this time as they glanced at us.

I had obviously heard about the bet about us- or whatever Curtis had told me. Our days of hiding our relationship were numbered, and I was scrambling to stretch them.

I decide to act clueless, pretending to be busy with the folder in my hands. Looking up now and then at Virgil. Hoping I was putting on some Angelina Jolie or Lupita Nyong'o acting.

I'd do anything at this point.

"You look good in red." Virgil whispers through a tired grunt and I look up again, raising my brows.

"Really? Right now?" I whisper, looking down at his exercising form.

Droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and gliding down his neck, making contact with the reddish-purple bruises peeking out of his collar.

Yes, my office was a highly dangerous place at this point. Especially, in the morning before training even began.

The entire and I mean the entire gym goes quiet, apart from the foreign song blasting through the speakers. I glance around, almost everyone staring at us.

Virgil follows my eyes, realizing the deafening silence as well.

Damn, I really needed an Oscar at this point.

"Do you guys want exercising tips from your skipper or is winning the Carabao Cup and being in top form more important?" I ask, cocking a brow up to the guys, but I can't help but chuckle at their puzzled faces.

The loud chatter returns again, I laugh again watching them go back to their own exercises.

"You know I didn't do anything." Virgil whispers, voice deep as he looks at me, his hands up in surrender for a moment. He stands up, fixing his shirt. He leans closer to me, whispering.

"Play along with me."

His hand suddenly goes up to his arm, a very convincing pained grunt leaving his lips.

My eyes go wide, confused but looking up at him concerned.

"What's wrong?" I ask my voice a little louder, my hand going up to his arm, hoping he was actually faking it.

"You alright captain?" I hear, Joe coming up to us. His eyebrow raised, other players looking at us as well.

"Think I strained my arm." He replies, closing and opening his fist repeatedly. His eyes looking into mine, a hint of urgency in them.

"I'll check it out in my office." I quickly say, looking back and forth in between the two men.

I let go of Virgil's arm, motioning him to start moving. Taking him to my office, not daring to look behind me.

"Are you being serious?" I ask Virgil as he sits on the treatment table. My hand going up to his arm, the skin of his jacked bicep soft against my fingers.

He chuckles lowly, grabbing my other arm to pull me closer.

"No, just wanted to do this." He mumbles, his hand coming up my chin, his fingers running down my jawline.

He leans in without another word, his lips are on mine tenderly. I gasp into the kiss, but melt into it. Fluttering my eyes shut, letting go of my worries, allowing him to pull me closer. A feeling of desire burning through me, flickering like a raging flame and consuming my senses.

I move my hand up to his chest, fisting his shirt with a firm grip. I pull away, opening my eyes, small annoyed smile on my lips.

"You made me worry for that?" I say, hitting his chest, no malice in my touch.

"You look too good in red." He replies, hands on my waist.

"-and see how no one is looking at us now?"

"Like this made us look less suspicious?" I reply, letting go of his shirt.

"Works for me."

I open my mouth to respond, but my grumbling stomach beats me to it.

"Think it's lunchtime." He teases, and I close my eyes in embarrassment.

"You think?"

"It's weird because I've never really cared about the opinions of strangers. Growing up I wasn't a insecure or very sensitive child. I was pretty independent." I explain, lifting my leg up to the sofa comfortably. Looking at my therapist, her black hair falling in front of her face as she leans forward to look at me.

"Would you say it only happened after adulthood?" She asks, eyes sweet and kind behind her glasses.

I look away, thinking of my answer.

"I think? I made friends easily when I was younger, but when I left my teenage years it started getting more- difficult? Then I started really thinking of the opinions of others."

"Were there any changing factors in your life? Did you move? Change classes? Or another boyfriend maybe? Could you say they're intertwined with your change of heart?"

I bite my lip, humming at her words.

"I did get an internship back then as you know- and met my ex awhile later."

"Right your ex- Theo. You've told me so much about him already- but did he also have a say in how you acted around certain people or in some scenarios?"

"I guess? We went to these dinner parties and other fancy places. We'd meet these business partners of his mother and other wealthy people. I had to essentially play the role of a perfect girlfriend."

"Would you say it made you act more 'aware' of yourself and your actual real personality?"

"I just remember feeling so exhausted and empty after getting home or to our hotel room. Like my soul was sucked out of me or something. It was even worse when he'd started yelling at me for certain things I did, or he'd say that some stupid businessman wasn't liking my attitude or some dumb stuff. I very much argued with him the first couple of times, then I just started taking it like some constructive criticism. It wasn't like that at all though. When our relationship was plastered on the news everywhere- I remember feeling even worse, and to read the opinions of strangers. Those opinions that were already drilled into my mind by own partner- it just got worse."

I explain, fidgeting with the fabric of my trousers. My nails scratching them harshly, feeling my palms get clammy.

"Right- and with your current relationship now- do you see this happen as well?" She says, her voice softening.

"Not at all, I feel the total opposite. Like I can do or say whatever I want with him- and I can. I don't feel like I have to perform or have a fake personality."

"But you'd said you feel the same as in not wanting it to be revealed to the public. He's a footballer if I recall correctly?"

"He is- I just feel like it'll be the same reaction from the public- mean and judgmental."

She hums, fixing her glasses, repositioning them higher on her nose bridge.

"Let's say you have to make a really important decision. Who do you consult? The people closest to you or complete strangers."

"The people closest to me obviously."

"Then you'd have to put it that way, you don't care about the opinions of strangers in personal critical moments- then you shouldn't be allowing their criticism get to you in that critical moment. For example, your relationship being revealed." She finishes, looking at me with a smile on her face.

I stare at her, letting her words sink in. Them clicking like puzzle consisting of a thousand pieces.

I lean back, letting go of my pen, cradling my cramping hand close to me. Ink smudged all over my palm, the corners of the used pages curled up and wrinkled as my eyes dart over the page again.

I had to admit, taking out your frustration and anxiety on paper was insanely relieving and calming. My therapist had recommended it in our last session, and so far I was liking it.

I had four sessions with her so far, and the wisdom the woman had given me was so obvious, but never actually happened to cross my own mind. I was so happy we formed a connection instantly. Especially, since I barely had the mental capacity to look for another therapist.

My glowing laptop screen allows me to see the paper better, as the sun had set awhile ago. The recent emails from my lawyer staring right back at me.

My lawyer had emailed me concerning the break-in. It already felt like a while ago, making me look back at the traumatic incident again. He had given me updates about the case. The police did have camera footage from a nearby shop, which they heavily used to try to identify the guy. Jail time wouldn't be considered, if the intruder was a first offender they'd probably let him go with a fine.

This wasn't the biggest problem, as the only thing I actually wanted was for Theo to get what he'd deserved. The intruder would probably give some bullshit excuse and get off- making me practically lose my mind out of anger. I wanted to put it behind me already, but the fact that Theo would also be let off infuriated me.

My journal now- was scribbled full of my worries. I had written about six full pages, fighting the urge to just scratch out entire pages out of frustration.

I turn off my laptop, rubbing my eye tiredly. I connect my charger to my laptop, and grab my phone. Blowing out the half used vanilla scented candle on my vanity.

I check the time, reading a unnoticed notification. My parcel- or parcels would arrive, brightening up my mood a little.

One thing I had learnt in life was; shopping won't solve the problem, but it definitely will distract you from it- at least for a moment. I'd open the package for the split of second serotonin and that was enough.

The sound of the intercom ringing had me standing up immediately. I run to my door, half tripping on one of my shoes, which I had lazily left there, before checking the cameras and letting the delivery man in and switching on the lights.

The sight of my appearance in the mirror makes me cringe. Not that the delivery man hadn't seen me like this before. I had been insanely busy with work lately and with the ongoing case and the dating rumors. It was honestly taking a toll on me already. I knew it was partially my fault, I could just let go of the case and stop worrying about dating rumors. At the end of the day they weren't things I actually had control over, but it got more frustrating knowing that I didn't have any control in both situations.

I had checked social media- sneakily, redownloading the apps, using my quickly made fake account as I scrolled through the gossip pages.

Most of the reactions were trying to figure out who the "A list footballer" in question was. My heart had skipped a beat when I read Virgil's name, but I had panicked and shut my phone immediately- you couldn't stress me out on the phone I was paying for.

I was still trying to half keep up with my strategy of ignoring the problem, but I slowly started to feel like the problem itself. I promised myself things, just to not even follow up to those promises.

I open my door as I hear a knock, checking the peephole for a second and grabbing the door handle.

"Hi." I greet, grabbing the two big parcels from the poor, all too familiar man.

Shit, maybe I did have a problem...

"You've been buying too many things young lady." He replies, adjusting the cap on his head.

I chuckle embarrassed, setting down the packages next to me on the floor.

"I'm sorry sir, will try to minimize my shopping. Would you like anything? A drink?" I say, smiling at him. I felt bad for the man, even though he was just doing his job.

"No, I'm alright. Have a good evening." He says smiling and turning away, as he presses on the elevator button.

I watch him leave, the elevator door opening with a sound. To my surprise, I see Virgil walking out of it. His face partially covered by his scarf and a black beanie on his head as he walks up to me. Greeting the delivery man kindly.

"Is that the delivery man? He was here last Monday as well wasn't he?" He asks, pointing behind him as he stands in front of me.

I step back, kicking the parcels out of the way and opening the door wider to let him in.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, ignoring him flaming my shopping addiction, now a little self- conscious of my appearance, trying to cover my face with my hoodie. He'd shown up without word many times, only not when I- or the house looked like a dumpster fire.

"Missed my girl." He says, voice deep as he clicks his tongue, stepping into my house and grabbing my wrist to close the door behind me.

"You saw me at work, literally like four hours ago."

"And?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my cheek. His hands going up to remove his scarf and jacket, hanging them on the rack.

"You could've called- I look like this." I say, pointing at my appearance.

"And the house is a mess." I add, sighing.

"And?" He says again, his hands coming up to my shoulders. His brown eyes staring back into mine.

I sigh, shaking my head at him, a soft smile forming on my lips.

"Have you eaten dinner yet?"

I shake my head, his eyes darting to the parcels on the floor.

"How about you show me what you bought this time and I'll order dinner?" He suggests, running his thumb softly on my cheekbone.

"Can I pick?"

"Of course."

"Okay- ready?" She shouts, walking into the living room. A black mini-dress on her body, ending right in the middle of her thighs. The square neckline giving it the right amount of sexy, the back still unzipped clumsily.

She walks up to Virgil, who's sitting on her sofa. Man-spreading comfortably as he looks her up and down, his tatted arm folded on his other one, up to his chest.

"Can you zip the back?" She asks, turning her back to him as he stands up with a low hum. His fingers ghosting her skin as he plays with the zipper.

"Turn for me love." He mutters, close to her ear.

She turns facing him, adjusting the dress and smoothing down the fabric. It accentuating her body perfectly.

"How is it?" She asks, following his eyes roaming her body.

A low hum leaves his lips, his hand coming to wrap around her waist, other hand traveling down to her behind, pulling her closer.

"Where are you going in this?" He murmurs, longing eyes on hers.

"I'm getting drinks with Clara and Sofia tomorrow. Why? Is it- bad?" She asks, voice in a whisper. A hand fidgeting with the fabric, feeling unsure.

"No, you look too good." He whispers lowly, squeezing her waist delicately.

"Really?" She smiles, face lightning up immediately as her eyes roam over his face.

"Now I'll have to worry about my girl being taken from me." He worries, his hand coming up to his chin, as if to ponder.

She rolls her eyes playfully, tapping his arm repeatedly.

"Like you take off your shirt in front of camera's before asking me. You get thirsted over by the entire internet, let me have this." She tuts, fluttering her eyelashes in an animated way.

"Oh I will. Only after this."

He says, raising his brows, lifting her up and throwing her onto the sofa carefully. His fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as he tickles her.

"Okay! Stop, you know I'm ticklish." She exclaims, tears forming in her eyes from laughter. Struggling to hold his hand back. He listens, pulling back and hovering over her body.

"I also got matching heels." She breathes out, escaping out of his hold, and grabbing the shoe box off the table. She grabs the heels out of the box, turning towards him. The diamond buckles and details glistening in the overhead light.

He walks up to her, grabbing the heels and bending down. She leans forward, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, pushing her weight on him to balance herself.

He unbuckles the heels, slipping them onto her feet and buckling them up again.

"Thank you." She says, letting go of him and watching him stand back up.

"Do a little twirl for me love." He suggests, watching her intently as she does. A low whistle leaving his lips. His hands traveling down to the small of her back.

"Can you skip the drinks with the girls and just come over to mines instead." He says, eyes flashing with lust and desire.

She laughs, shaking her head as her hand comes to pat his arm.

"Nope, I can come over after though?" She teases, already trying to wiggle out of his hold as a joke.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the sound of the intercom makes them remember the food delivery.

"I'll change!" She shouts, already running back to her room. He watches her leave surprised, his tongue running over his cheek annoyed before he gets the door.

"Good food always makes me sleepy." She mumbles, her head in his lap. Thankful for their stomachs being full and satisfied.

He runs his fingers down her face, his thumb smoothing down her eyebrows, moving down to other facial features, humming in agreement.

"What is it? What are you thinking of?" She asks, noticing how quiet he is, looking up him.

"Just thinking." He mumbles, looking distracted.

"About?"

"Us."

She huffs, poking his firm abdomen.

"Tell me." She say impatiently.

He clicks his tongue, finally making eye contact with her.

"I just came from speaking to my agent. Talked about us with the publicist."

"What did they say?" She asks, sitting up, facing him.

He shifts, his hand coming up to squeeze her shoulder. Looking at her with a serious expression.

She furrows her brows, looking confused.

"You're worrying me. Tell me, come on." She urges fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, trying to read his face.

"They told me that there was an article released this morning- about us, with pictures." He explains, trying to soothe her with soft caresses on her cheek.

Her eyes go wide, her grip on his shirt tightening as she gasps. Her heart starting to thump excessively faster in her chest.

"They- know?" She stutters, blinking repeatedly, feeling panic surge up her body.

"I'm sorry baby." He whispers, looking at her, his hand traveling to her nape to soothe her further.

"What did it say?" She asks, millions of thoughts running through her mind.

"It was about our date back home, in Amsterdam. Pictures of us getting into the car." He explains, voice softer than usual.

"Did they identify me too?" She asks, hoping it wasn't the case.

To her horror he nods, trying to calm her down with soft shushes.

"Normally, they wouldn't be able to identify you this fast, but the article mentions the blind item and- that piece of shit. So, they put two and two together, and probably bought the rights to some pictures secretly taken by someone who approached them."

She breathes out shakily, letting go of his shirt and looking away. Her eyes noticeably full of worry and panic.

"What are you worried about love?" He coaxes, continuing to run his thumb on her cheek.

"What people would think and say." She mutters, tears accumulating in her eyes.

"Why does that matter to you?" He asks, voice as calm as possible to not disturb the fact that she's taking in the privacy violating news.

"Last time, it was bad- like really really really-"

"Hey, it's alright. You've got me this time. I'll make sure with my agent and publicist that it won't be bad. Besides, you know our supporters won't care right? The criticism will come from strangers at the end of the day. Why should we string importance to what they say?" He says, trying to calm her down with his words.

"I just keep thinking about those comments from the past, they still hurt." She says, voice cracking unpleasantly.

"I understand that love. Let's just stay off of our phones, yeah? We'll figure it out together, I promise."

"I'm not some gold digging bitch or whore-" she whispers, tears twinkling in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill and holding her feelings back. Like a dam trying to keep its ragging waters back, a crack forming at its base. Threatening the very purpose of it.

"You're not those things. It's alright sweetheart, I'll take care of it yeah?" He promises, practically boiling on the inside. The fact that anyone could call his sweet girlfriend those words, making him both mad and his heart ache for her.

She sighs, remembering her conversation with her therapist again. Why care about the opinions of people whom you don't value, right?

"Well what about work? They'll look at me weirdly. Oh my god- how am I going to look at them in their faces." She groans, placing her head into the crook of his neck, now straddling him.

"Why are you embarrassed of me?" He says, trying find some humor to cheer her up, even if it's just a bit.

"No, of course not! It just looks like I got the job to fuck one of their players-" she exclaims, frustration gnawing at her.

"Alright, alright I get it. Let's take it step by step hm?" He suggests, making her look at him again.

"HR and Klopp already know. It's not like the players are fully unaware of something going on between us, you're aware of the little bet the younger guys have on us, right?"

She nods, biting on her lip as she still cringes at the thought of it being officially known by the club.

"That means they're fine with it. I promise." He assures, running his hand up and down her back.

"If HR and Klopp are fine with it, other staff will be okay with it too. No worrying needed love."

She sighs, placing her head onto his chest. Pondering over every single thing he'd just said.

Thinking of having to face her worst nightmare tomorrow. Something she'd dreaded since they started dating. She could only ignore and dismiss her problems until a certain amount of time, then she'd obviously have to face them, eventually.

“Did I at least look good in those pictures?”

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