Ola! We're two girls (Synnove and Caroline) who live with football and fangirl over flawless footballers. We love football in general but if we had to choose two teams they'd be Real Madrid and Barcelona. Feel free to ask us anything you want. We accept requests for one shots but not always, so we'll let you know when you can ask us for some. Thanks to all the beautiful people who follow us and keep on reading our stories. :)
Hey. I was wondering if you would be able to update Exit Wounds? I absolutely loved the beginning and am hoping that you can finish it off. Thank you soo much if you can.
hey, oh my god i feel so awful because i really never finish what i start and i really am sorry.
i promise i'll try updating it as soon as i can, okay?
this is very short but i liked it like that and i didn't wanna change anything so... i hope the anon that requested it likes it, as well as anyone who's gonna read it.
He was serving the ball with a huge grin on his face, trying to pretend he was good at it.
Blind-tennis could not be a good idea, but she did it anyway. Because she thought her life needed a change, and since she didn’t want to get her hair painted blue --like Chelsea had suggested instead, she agreed to this blind-tennis thing Paul, the guy she used to chat with at the gym, had told her about.
“Thank you, so do you!” she had replied, lazily hitting the ball back.
He had laughed and almost missed the ball. “Yeah, tracksuits suit me. I wear them most of the times.”
“That is called being lucky as fuck.” She had said, and twirled as she hit the ball back to him, not sure whether it ended into the pitch or not. “I have to wear those hideous suits with heels!”
He had laughed. “I’m Marco.” He had missed the ball Mary had tossed to him and lost the very first point of the match. Then he had walked closer to the net so that he could finally introduce himself.
“Mary.” She had answered, hopping near him to squeeze the hand he had offered. “So I’m winning, isn’t it?”
Marco had smiled. “I thought we were warming up!”
“You thought wrong!”
“Well then, Miss. no-warm-up-because-I’m-too-good-for-it, I’ll now show you how skilled I am at tennis.” Marco said, and then walked back to get a ball.
She had probably thought he was amusing or something, because eventually, when he had asked her to play tennis again the following week, she accepted.
--
“You hit like a girl!” He called out, smacking the ball with his racket.
“Well that’s probably because I am a girl!” She laughed, swinging her racket just in time.
“I’m awful at trash-talking” he shouted back with a grin, just missing the ball.
“And you’re also awful at tennis!” Mary exclaimed, jumping up. “Because I win!”
He sighed, disappointed. He was being kicked in the ass by a girl! How was that even possible?
“I’m still waiting for you to introduce me to Mr. I’ll-now-show-you-how-skilled-I-am-at-tennis, because I haven’t seen him yet.” She teased, walking to the bench were she had previously put her bag.
“Ha ha ha” he fake laughed. “Go on, make fun of me, hurt my feelings, but when my inner Roger Federer is going to finally come out, you’re going to be in deep shit.”
She was drinking when she suddenly burst out laughing, and all the water she had in her mouth ended straight on Marco, who had sat on the bench in front of her.
“I’m sorry” she laughed. “I’m ver-hahy sorry” She held her stomach because it hurt from how hard she was laughing. “I didn’t want it to happen.” She was still laughing her ass out, while Marco just looked at her, his t-shirt soaked from all the water she had spit out.
“Why thank you” he said back. “My inner Federer needed some…fresh water.”
“Tell him I can’t wait to know him.” Mary smiled, sitting back next to him. She handed him her towel, but he refused it.
“Why don’t you come to dinner with me tonight? He could decide to pop out in the middle of the night and you wouldn’t get to see him if you’re not with me.”
She laughed. “To my disappointment, tonight there’s a party at a friend’s house I really can’t miss.” Mary shrugged. “And I’d prefer not being present when your inner Federer comes out at the restaurant, you never know, he may use dishes as tennis rackets and start racketing everything that looks like a tennis ball.”
“You’re so right.” He laughed back. “But it’d be so fun.”
She nodded. “I can always watch the videos. Marco Reus racketing stuff with dishes in a restaurant sure as hell won’t pass unobserved.”
“Why watch videos when you can have the real 3D version? What about tomorrow?” He asked with a grin.
Mary smiled back. “Tomorrow it is.”
--
“Shit!” He exclaims, missing yet another ball.
“Thirty to nothing!” Mary called out, serving another ball.
“When did you get so good at tennis?” He laughed, weakly hitting the ball back to her.
“I have no idea. Probably this morning, when, you know, my inner Djokovic came out from nowhere.” She smiled. “When did you get so bad?” she teased, smacking the ball and laughing when he missed it again.
“Must have been yesterday night.” He grinned. “Someone must’ve tired me out.”
Mary laughed. “I’m sure it was your inner Federer who came out in the middle of the night and tired you out doing squots and stuff.”
“Will you ever stop teasing me about saying that?” He asked, walking to her. “I admitted I said it because I wanted to impress you.”
“But you did impress me” she laughed and let him hug her. “I’m here, and it’s like what? Four months later? And I still remember it.”
“It’s actually five months and ten days.” He kissed her. “I didn’t know you were so good at tennis.”
“You do the counting? That’s so sweet of you.” Her heart melted. “And I’m not good at tennis” she kissed him back. “I have days where I can kick freaking John Cena in the ass and there are days where I can’t even get up from bed.” She shrugged. “Today is a good day to kick asses!” And she ran back to get her racket, ready to play again.
“Mary!” he complained, raising his arms to the sky.
She picked a ball up. “Don’t “Mary” me! Come on, let’s play!”
“Two conditions, though.”
She crossed her arms. “Which are?”
“Stop hitting the ball so hard and kiss me every time I miss the ball.”
Mary laughed. “You’re going to get tons of kisses then.”
--
“I suck.” he laughed, missing another swing.
“We’re too pretty to be tennis players!” Mary joked, tugging at her ponytail.
Marco took the ball. “By pretty I hope you mean awfully amazing.” he laughed.
She shrugged it off.
“I feel so out of place.” He said, motioning towards the tennis shoes and racket. “The ball is too small, I barely even see it!”
Mary smiled. “Because prince Marco here usually kicks balls the size of a whale.”
He fake laughed. “You’re not even fun. I don’t even know why I’m still here with you.”
“Because you love me.” She said. “And because you think I’m awfully amazing.” She grinned.
Marco jogged to her. “Thank you for remembering me.” He kissed her on the lips.
“This is definitely not your sport” she smiled, putting the racket down and kissing him back. “nor mine.”
“Why did we keep doing this, in the first place?”
“Because we thought it was a good idea to spend time together with you playing something that’s not football.” She answered and let him kiss her quickly on her forehead.
He nodded. “Right.”
“What the hell were we thinking? We better get back home the soonest.” She laughed.
Marco laughed back. “We better. We have a wedding to plan, don’t we?”
I know it's short and i apologize fot that but i'm not gonna lie, i knew nothing of him and it took me a lot of time to come out with this and...yeah.
She doesn’t want to be there. She doesn’t even know whose party it is. She doesn’t know the guy that let her in, how the hell did she end up at that party, she will never know. She was just walking back to her room after a very long meeting with people who would not listen to her.
Valerie manages to walk outside the hall of the hotel and takes a breath. She looks at the sky and sees it’s full of stars. She thinks it’s beautiful. Where she lives now, in Milan, you don’t just walk out and see what she’s seeing now. Because Milan was huge and very light polluted. She thinks she haven’t seen a sky so full of stars in years, since she moved from the little city she used to live in near Tirana.
“Valerie?”
And then she sees him. After all that time. And it all comes back like it happened yesterday. She understands she’s not ready yet. She walks away.
She wonders what he’s doing in Athens, shouldn’t he be somewhere in Italy running after a ball, with crowds of guys cheering for his team? He definitely should. In fact, she thinks she just imagined it. Because meeting him there was just impossible. He is for sure busy doing whatever he does.
“How come you avoid me?”
Valerie is now very sure he’s not in Italy.
Damn it.
“I wasn’t avoiding you.”
“Yes, you were. I called you and you looked at me and then you walked away. You actually ran away.”
“Well you’re here now so even if I were, that didn’t really work.” She says.
“Right.” He breathes. “You still mad at me.”
Valerie smiles and leans out to touch his hand. Then decides against it and crosses her arms to her chest. “I never was.”
“What do you call not answering to calls, messages, mails and moving out of your parents’ house leaving nothing for your best friend? Not even a note saying you left? I call that being fucking mad.”
She wants to tell him she actually wrote a note to tell him she left. She wants him to know she still has it in her purse, she just never gave it to him. Call it lack of bravery. Instead “Sorry” is all she says.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“Work.”
“I mean here at the party. You know Giorgios?”
“Who?”
He laughs.
“Look I really need to go.” She says. “I’m flying back home tomorrow and I need to pack some stuff. It was nice seeing you, Patas.”
“I’ll walk you to your room.” He offers.
She shakes her head. “Better not.” It took her a long time to forget him. She can’t fall into that again. Because it was painful and she had a hard time getting over it.
She walks away. He doesn’t follow her. Just like ten years ago. Except, ten years ago he didn’t really know she was leaving.
She thinks she’s over it. She thinks she’s made it, for once in her life, she can finally say she’s done with Patagionis Kone. Except, she really isn’t.
And then he steps in the elevator. “I was your best friend.”
“I thought I told you I didn’t want you to come with me.” She mumbles.
“Yeah I don’t care.” He says. “I am your best friend.”
Valerie turns to look at him. “Okay then, best friend, bed time for me, ‘night.” She steps out and starts walking to her room. He goes after her.
“I’m not forgiving you leaving without even telling me.”
“I don’t remember ever asking you to forgive me.” She answers.
He grabs her hand and stops her way to her room. She’s forced to turn and deal with him.
“You’re trying to get rid of me.” He says.
“You’re smart.”
“Why are you trying to get rid of me?” he asks.
She bits her bottom lip.
He stares at her.
Valerie looks down to her feet and suddenly she’s very busy admiring the beautiful red carpet they’re standing on.
He lifts her chin with his hand and kisses her.
She kisses him back and meanwhile, wants to slap him. But she wants to slap herself too.
“I thought I was done with you.” She whispers once his lips leave hers. “I thought I was over it.”
He caresses her cheek. “I’m sorry. I just never had the chance to tell you. And when I decided I wanted to tell you, you had left and your parents wouldn’t tell me where you were.”
She smiles. “Do you want to come in?” she asks.
“Only if you promise me you’ll give me your number and you’ll answer my calls.”
hey guys, this goes out to degea-drama-llama. I hope you like it :)
I DO NOT OWN MARCO REUS
Paige Finnerty always knew where she was. She was only looking for a toilet –but knew exactly where she was, when she was seven and her parents had been looking for her for half New York. She was getting the new Harry Potter film when her best friend had been calling her hundreds of time because she had no idea where she was, but Paige was super sure she knew where she was going, and eventually made it to Michelle safe and sound.
But there and then she really had no idea where she was. Because it was huge. Because she had never been there before and even because there were too many people confusing her. And the hideous noises coming from somewhere she couldn’t see only made her more nervous.
She so hated that feeling. She could already hear Matthew’s pleased voice mocking her. “You lost, uh?” He’d say. “Told you, you wouldn’t last a second without me outta New York.”
Matthew had wanted so bad to fly over London to see Bayern Munich-Borussia Dortmund. She had agreed to go with him when he challenged she woudn't resist in another city for more than three hours.
“Why do you hate me, Jesus?” she said. “I mean, I know you know I’m not your biggest fan, but there are worst people than me. Don’t you have anything better to do than just mess with my life?”
Because actually, her life was a total failure. She had a job and she was studying at the New York University, but in love she was like freaking Catullus. The only man she’s ever really loved was a bitch. Really. A disgusting asshole who had been cheating on her since day one. She had met Ezra after three weeks. He was cool, they had been hanging out for a while. She hadn’t told her friends about him yet because she still didn’t know if there was something.
The only good thing she had was Matthew. Her super handsome, clever, rich, engaged, gay best friend. She still couldn’t get why they were friends, because he was like the opposite of her. She was quiet and nerdy while he was a party animal and, if he could, he would throw away every single book he owned.
“Looking for someone?”
She jumped. “The hell are you?”
The man standing in front of her laughed. He, she had to admit, was cute. Not in an usual –and boring way. He was just handsome in his gray Nike tracksuit, with his just-washed blonde hair, and those big eyes staring at her.
She realized there were no people anymore but the guy and her.
“The hell are you?” he asked back.
“I asked first.” She said.
“I’m Marco.”
“Good for you.”
Silence.
“How did you get here?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know man, I’m just trying to get back to my seat before the match ends.”
He chuckled. “I guess you’re late.”
“It can’t be. It was like 1-1 and it was something like five minutes to the extra time.” She said. “But wait- I know you! Aren’t you that famous guy I’ve read about in a magazine like last week?”
He nodded. He had been interviewed by Vanity Fair U.S. some weeks ago.
“The guy who was actually playing really good football?”
“That’s me!” He nodded again, proud of himself.
“The one of Viagra?”
“Exac-what? No, no!”
She shook her head. “You’re so young. I’m so sorry.” She walked away.
“That was not me!” He ran after her. “I mean yeah, I was in Vanity Fair last month, but I don’t really think Viagra was ever mentioned. You know, I was there when they interviewed.”
Marco thought he sounded really stupid.
“Don’t tell me, you were?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was me who had been interviewed.”
Stop me from talking. He thought. Stop me and close me somewhere, then throw the keys away.
“Well then.” She laughed. “Who won?”
“What?” he looked confused.
“The match. Who won?”
“Uh. Bayern Munich.”
She nodded, feeling both happy and sad. Happy because they had flown to London because Matthew was a big fan of Bayern Munich. Sad because the guy she was talking with didn’t look happy at all.
“That’s why you’re dressed up already.” She crossed her arms. “Winner teams get prizes, isn’t it?”
“So you know me?” he asked.
“Of course I know you, you idiot!” she laughed. “Why would I come here, to London, to see Bayern Munich-Borussia Dortmund if I didn’t even know the players?”
“I guess you’re right.” He blushed slightly.
Paige smiled and hunched her shoulders.
“You still haven’t told me your name.” he said.
“I’m Paige.” She smiled.
“You from here?”
“New York, actually.” She answered. “I’m flying back to America tomorrow night.”
He clouded.
“Why are you asking?”
He bit his bottom lip. “Because I wished we could have, you know, hang out.”
“We have exactly” she looked at his watch. “Twelve hours to hang out.”
Marco smiled. “Cool. You’ll love it here.”
~
“Shouldn’t you be sad or crying back to the hotel with your teammates?” Matthew asked, once they were sitting in a café.
Marco laughed. “We’d never really thought we would even get to the semi-finals. And when we made it through, we were like “whatever happens will be great’, because, you know, we were happy with what we had.”
“Such losers.” Paige laughed at him.
“Yeah, make it there, then call me.” He said back with a smile.
No noises around, they had been sitting there for an hour, drinking hot coffee not to fall asleep there and then. Marco kept on glancing at Paige, and Colin –Matthew’s boyfriend, had it noticed.
“I want some more coffee.” Colin said. “You guys want something?”
“Can I have a cup of white chocolate?” Paige asked.
“Yes, I want one either.” Matthew said.
“Sure, Paige, will you help me?”
With a noisy sigh, she got up and walked to the barman with him, grumbling something like “If I knew I had to come with you I wouldn’t have said anything.”
Sitting around the table were now Marco and Matthew.
“What are your intentions?”
Marco frowned. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m fucking blind?” he snorted. “I saw how you look at her. You like her, cool. But, don’t know if you got the memo, we’re leaving, tomorrow. And we live in New York, which is not even close to Germany.”
“I, uh”
Marco didn’t really know what to say. Because he was right, he had no chance to get to know her, and even though he wanted to, they didn’t have time. But, on the other hand, he had known her for what? Three hours? He yet didn’t know what he was thinking about her. He just knew he enjoyed spending time with her, because she was fun.
“No white chocolate” Paige announced, sinking back on the seat next to Matthew. “I got some coffee instead.”
Colin said he was very tired, and he had been complaining about that for half an hour before Matthew decided to get back to the hotel with him. Paige just sat there, she didn’t want the night to end like that.
Eventually Matthew agreed to leave her there with Marco, she would have gotten back later.
“I can’t believe in six hours you’re taking the plane back to New York.” Marco said.
“I know, right? I wish I could stay some more, but I have college to attend to, and lots of homework I didn’t do because I’m spending time here.”
He nodded and drank some coffee. “Why is Matthew so protective over you?”
Paige frowned. “Don’t tell me.” She rolled her eyes. “Damn Colin.”
“Yeah” Marco laughed. “He was all like ‘what are you gonna do with her, you live hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, what do you want here?’”
“I apologize for whatever he said.”
“I guess he was just trying to keep you safe.”
She nodded. “Time to go. I have a plane to catch and, you know, sleeping wouldn’t be bad.”
Marco bit his bottom lip and got up. He silently followed her until they got to her hotel and then, after telling her he would see her at the airport the following day, he kissed her.
It was like fireworks had exploded in Paige’s stomach.
He caressed her cheek and said goodbye.
~
At the airport, he didn’t show up. She had waited him until the hostess last called her, and then she had to walk into the plane. Paige had to admit it, she felt sad.
She wanted to see him one last time before leaving for good.
And stepping on the plane now left a bitter taste on her mouth. Because she felt like she had left back something she didn’t finish.
She felt lost, because he had kissed her, and it was not like he could kiss her like that and then not even show up to tell her goodbye. It didn’t work like that.
She sat next to Colin. “He came?”
Paige shook her head.
“I’m sorry, honey.” He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Must have been dreaming about you, so he didn’t want to wake up.”
She laughed sadly. “Must have been because of that.”
Matthew looked at her with a small smile. He had told him not to tell her until they landed in New York, but he couldn’t wait eight more hours.
“Actually, he did show up.” He confessed, after six hours of flight. “In my room, this morning, and told me to give you this.”
Paige frowned when he handed her a white envelope.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked. “I wouldn’t have wasted time waiting for him in the freaking gate.”
“He asked me not to.” He just said, going back to watch out of the window. Clouds were the only thing he could see. They were almost arrived, two more hours and it would be all over.
They would go home, wash the clothes and Paige would start studying again, while Colin and Matthew would just go back working, one in a library and the other as a model.
Paige bit her bottom lip and opened the envelope. There was a white page with writing on it.
“Hey,
I know, you’re probably really very angry at me right now, and you have all the rights to. Don’t be mad at Matthew, he was just doing me a favor.
I’ve been thinking about what he told me some hours ago, and I realized he’s right. You live overseas and we’ve known each other for like six hours before you had to leave.
But you know what? I don’t care. It’d be nice if you flew over Dortmund during school breaks so that we could catch up. And I could come to New York again, I loved it the first time and visiting it with you would just make me love it more.
I’ve left my phone number and my email written on the envelope. Text me, ok? Email me, fly over here, send a carrier pigeon… whatever you want, but do it. Because it’d be a shame if you didn’t. What are hundreds of thousands of kilometers after a kiss like the one we shared last night?
I’m sorry I did not show up at the airport, but I thought it was better like this. To leave you with yesterday kiss, not with just a hug and a pat on the back. Because it wouldn’t be fair.
What I’m saying now, may sound rushed, but it really isn’t. I like you, Paige. I like you because you make me look like a total idiot even when I think I’m doing fine. I like you because when I talk to you I’m not afraid of saying something wrong, because you mock at me even when what I say is very serious. I like you because when I’m with you I don’t feel at all like the Marco Reus you read about on Vanity Fair U.S.. I feel like Marco, the guy you laughed at for playing in yellow suits. “You look like a bee, totally ridiculous.” You said.
So, am I wrong for thinking that we could be something for real?
Yours,
Marco.”
Paige bit her bottom lip not to cry. She read it again, and again, just to be sure she wasn’t just imagining it.
“You okay?” Colin asked.
She shook her head and gave him the letter. He read it, sometimes laughing voicelessly and some other times letting out some “oh, he’s so cute!” comments.
Once he was done, he gave it back to her and hugged her. “That’s going to be alright, you know? Now we get home and you call him and tell him he’s been stupid by not showing up at the airport. And you’ll fly back to Europe in two months, when school break happens.”
Paige said nothing, just kept on looking at the letter and sometimes glancing over Matthew, who smiled at her. She smiled back and he knew she wasn’t mad at him not for giving her the letter sooner. It was alright.
The plane had landed in New York. It was everything as she remembered it. Nothing had changed. Okay, it was only for a weekend she had been away, but anyways.
They had gotten back their luggage and were walking out of the airport when they heard someone call Paige’s name.
She turned, because deep down she was still hoping he was there. She hoped he would take the flight for New York and run after her to kiss her again.
Ezra was waving at her, calling her name. She still had Marco’s letter on her hand. Paige smiled and walked to him, stopping by a basket to crush the letter and throw it away.
“I knew your flight landed today.” He said. “Hope you don’t mind if I came?”
Paige smiled and kissed him on his lips. It didn’t taste like before. And she felt disappointed. “Thank you.”
Ezra smiled back. “I missed you.” He got her luggage and they walked outside.
Matthew and Colin had been watching her from behind.
“Why did she threw it away?” Colin asked.
“What happens in London rests in London, isn’t it?” Matthew answered. He walked to the basket and took back the letter. “Just in case she regrets it.” He commented, taking Colin’s hand and walking away as well.
Heyy! Have you stopped updating exit wounds? I love that fanfic and would love if you kept updating it please! Thank you. I think you are an amazing writer and hope you will continue that fanfic. X
hey, i wasn't even thinking on updating it but now that you asked, it's been put on the list :) asa i finish writing some shots i'll start writing it again :) i love you and thanks for everything you've said to me <3
Hello everyone, some of you guys asked for breakeven so here it is :) i hope you'll like it.
I DO NOT OWN MANUEL NEUER
“Look, you can keep the damn letter. I don’t want to know anything about it anymore.”
And it’s true. Because she found herself unexpectedly but undeniably drawn to him.
Laura turns to face her. “Do whatever you want, but remember that this is going to end. Manuel Neuer is just a bunch of fake promises, he will break your heart, and when he will, because he will, you’re going to be another name on the long list of the broken hearted girls he has left behind. Nothing more.”
“I know what you’ve been through-”
“No, you don’t. I thought you were the one who could actually revenge all those girls he’s messed with, but I was wrong. You’re just another one.” She says.
Maelle falls silent because she really doesn’t know what to say. Laura’s her forever best friend and she hates seeing her angry, or sad. And right now she’s both, which makes it even worse.
She’s scared she could ask her to choose. Like be my friend or stay with him, but she thinks Laura could never do that. But still, she fears it. And she does because there would be no contest. She’d always choose her best friend over a man she’s known for what? Three days?
“Look, I know you hate this stuff. But I can prove you he’s an asshole. And that he’s interested on you just because you’re pretty.” Laura hands Maelle her pc.
And there, as if nothing was, there’s none other than Manuel Neuer, kissing a girl right out of a club in Munich.
Even though it shouldn’t have bothered her, Maelle feels like a pang of jealousy and then anger. Because he said he liked her like he had never liked anyone.
“Way to prove he likes you, the asshole.”
She shrugs it off. “For what I care.” She lies.
She looks some more at the picture her friend is showing her. Neuer goes back to ex-girlfriend it says. She glares at the ex-girlfriend, even though she can’t really do anything. It’s not even her fault, how could the girl know Manuel was hanging out with her?
There’s nothing she can do about it. He will always be five steps ahead, and when she realizes it, she feels angry. Because it’s not fair. Because she doesn’t deserve it. And it’s when she hears herself asking “When did you say I’m going to meet him?” that she gets she can’t do anything about herself, but she can do everything for Manuel’s next girls.
Laura smiles. “Five o’clock. Your place.”
~
They’re sitting in a café with nothing to say because Maelle still doesn’t believe he’s been with his ex-girlfriend when he told her he liked her.
That’s a cheap shot. And she hates cowards. And he’s nothing but that, right now, for her. She still doesn’t get why he’s not telling her he has a girlfriend, but that’s only better for her. She’ll have more time to work on whatever she’s working on, she doesn’t even know anymore.
“Tell me something really embarrassing you did.” She says. “Gotta tell me something nobody else knows.”
He smiles. “Like what?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Cool.” He bites his bottom lip. “Promise me you’re not telling anyone?”
She nods.
He looks uncertain. He knows what to say but doesn’t know how to.
“First time I had sex, I was, like, sixteen, and you know, I thought it was so beautiful, and I, uh, cried.” He confesses after a while.
“You mean a tear rolled down your cheek when she fell asleep, right?” she asks, barely holding back laughter.
He shakes his head. “No, no. No, I was very emotional. I think I even told her I loved her.”
“After how many days?”
He looks into her eyes. “Seven…” he looks down. “Three.”
And that’s when she really can’t hold it back anymore. She bursts out laughing and she doesn’t bother to stop not even when he throws her some very threatening looks. People turn to look at her, wondering what’s so hilarious.
After a while Manuel laughs too. “Yeah, scoff at me. Look at what I am now.” He winks.
‘An asshole’ she thinks.
“Come on, you cried!” she laughs. “And told her you loved her after three days!”
“You promised you wouldn’t laugh!”
She frowns. “I never did. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, if you want, we can switch them.”
“Go on” he rolls his eyes. “Laugh at me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have time once I get home.” She pats on his hand.
Her face turns pink when he takes her hand in his and starts stroking it. She’s not sure whether to take it away or let him keep on caressing her. But he has a girlfriend and he shouldn’t really be drinking hot tea, in a bar, with her.
And that’s exactly why she smiles and squeezes his hand: for all the wrong reasons.
~
“You know, next week there’s this thing I should attend to…”
Maelle’s walking hand-in-hand with him and really feels out of place.
“It’s actually very formal and the whole Bayern Munich’s team’s going to be there…”
She’s not even interested on whatever he’s saying because she’s too busy thinking something up to get the revenge Laura, and partially her as well, have wanted so bad.
“And I was thinking that you could come with me.”
“Look, I need to know what your intentions are.” She stops walking and looks at him pretentiously. “Am I losing time spending it with you or is this thing we have taking us somewhere?”
He frowns, probably not expecting the question. “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to ditch me or are we going to try being something?”
She’s really trying to sound hideous but she hates it as much as she hates cowards.
He blushes slightly. “Well, I, uh, I don’t know. I guess we can uh, try.”
“What does it mean? Look I think we both have no time to waste so-”
“It means we’ll try.” He stops her from walking away. “Don’t you think it’s soon to start talking about that?”
She crosses her arms. “You asked me to meet your parents, twenty-four hours ago. Isn’t that rushed?”
“Right. Sorry.”
Maelle nods and starts walking again, not even caring if he’s following or not. She’s just angry at him for being such a liar, because he has a girlfriend but yet he promises her promises he can’t keep. And she feels hurt.
“So, what about the team dinner?” he asks. “You coming with me?”
“Yeah sure. When did you day it is again?”
He tells her when and they both go back looking at the shopping malls. Maelle’s mind is running through billions of stuff she could do to flip him out. Because he deserves it. Because he’s cheating on not one, but two girls. And it makes her feel so bad, to be the other woman.
“Look at that!” she suddenly yells.
Manuel jumps, clearly doesn’t expecting it. “Look at what?”
“This little doggy!” She says, dazed. “It’s so cute!”
It is. There’s this little puppy sitting there, with those two big brown eyes staring at her, and he can’t help but smile. It’s a dirty, lost mutt and she’s there petting it.
“We can’t leave it here!”
“Well then we’ll get him to the dog pound. He’s going to be great there.”
She glares at him. “I’m not taking this puppy in a dog pound.”
“I’m open to suggestion.”
And then it hits her in the face like a freight train. She got the idea to carry the plan out, and the puppy’s given her the key.
“We can take him at your place!” she smiles, enthusiastic.
He frowns. “Why would we do that?”
“He’s going to be our love-puppy!”
“Wait we can’t just-” She glares at him. “Damn! I can’t have pets home! You know, strict rules back home, I’m so sorry.”
Manuel and dogs don’t really get on well. He likes them, but they’ve always had complicated relationships.
She makes doe eyes at him and holds up the puppy. “I’m sure they won’t say anything, you’re a superstar, and superstars can bring whatever they want home, isn’t it?”
“Not really.”
She pouts.
“But we can try.” He smiles.
Maelle jumps at him and hugs him. “Our love-puppy! We gonna call him Paris, like Priam’s son.”
“But Paris doesn’t sound masculine at all!”
“Yeah but I liked Paris most in Troy, don’t care if it sounds gay.” She picks the dog up again and starts walking home.
Maelle smiles, sure that Manuel can’t see her. Let flip-Manuel-out-plan start.
Hey! If you had time to make a bastian schweinsteiger one shot i would love you forever! he is literally my hero! (not sure if you include names but if so im charlotte) Thank you!!xxx
Yeah sure i love him :) don't know when it'll be up but i promise you'll have it :)
Hey, started reading 'Breakeven' and I'd like to know if you're going to update it or if it's in hiatus. Because I really loved the plot and how your writing, it's an amazing fic, and don't want it to not be finished :(
hey! great question...i have no idea because for how much i'd like to write new chapters of breakeven i really don't know..how? can i say it? well anyway i promise i'll try my best to update it, ok?
thank you, i'm really very glad you like breakeven so much <3
it feels like years since i have updated last time...but now here i am :) i wrote this fanfiction first because someone asked, i think, so i hope you'll like this, and i know it's short, sorry
I DO NOT OWN THE PLAYERS
Chapter two
“Nothing fucking fits me!” they hear shouting upstairs, then there is a bad, really bad noise and eventually a very terrifying silence.
“I think it’s better if you go upstairs and take a look.” Marco is sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen, quietly sipping his cup of cold coffee. It’s not his girlfriend the one who is freaking out: he is single, happily single, and the whole situation in the Hummel’s house is pushing him to stay so. For a long time.
Mats takes out some milk from the fridge and leans it on the table. He sighs resignedly and shrugs. “She’s ok, Marco, she just-”
“Go to fucking hell!” There was another frightening noise coming from upstairs. Mats feels shivers running down his spine. Whoever entered that house would probably get the same as him.
Marco looks at him and bites his bottom lip. “Mats, mate, I really think you should go and take a look.”
“Why don’t you go?”
“No way” he answers promptly. “It’s not me the one who’s going to be a dad. Because I do use condoms” he nods “And-” A noise like a mirror shattering stops him from talking.
Mats rolls his eyes and gets up. “Sorry mate, you’ll have time to talk to me about things I don’t care later, because right now I do not need her to destroy this house.”
It’s not about condoms, because he wanted the baby. And he loves her to death, he would forgive her anything, he knows that having a little guy or a little girl inside of her is anything but easy.
When he suspiciously opens the door of their room, scared he could be within reach, he sees that the bed has been made, the creamy awnings let the September light in and eventually notices the broken balance, a splintered piece of parquet and the shattered mirror on the floor.
“Baby!” he yells “It’s seven years of bad luck! Allegra-”
“Do you know where you can put the seven years of bad luck?” Allegra sets upon him, coming out of their personal bathroom. Mats looks at her and thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even with a black bra and a pair of old pink shorts. Her long, red hair frames a beautiful small face and falls straight on her back. Her green eyes are alive, staring at him.
She is perfect like she is, without make up, just being her. And then he sees the little belly she has, where their little baby is growing day per day. And he can’t hold back a smile.
“Baby” He takes some steps to her, caring not to make her smell his fear -like the doctor told him. “What’s up?”
“What do you mean what’s up?!” she glares at him. “I’m fucking fat!” she points to her belly and then frowns. “I’m so gonna look awful to your stupid party.”
Mats laughs silently. Saying party, she means the annual dinner of Borussia Dortmund’s players with families. It’s actually nothing too formal, they are all good friends. “It’s he” he caresses her belly “who needs to eat, sweetheart.”
She suddenly takes a step back. “He?”
“I said ‘he’ talking generally, I didn’t mea-”
“You’re discriminating our baby!” she says angrily. “chauvinist, such an asshole!” she curses, walking to the bathroom.
Now everything makes sense! He finally understands the compassion of the doctor when he announced they were soon-to-be-parents, the strong handshake, the pats he had given him on his shoulders and even the “good luck!”. Those were condolences, not wishes!
Mats had been told that pregnant women are… needy. But he’s really getting scared: he’s afraid she’s going to kill him in the middle of the night with an axe.
He’s still standing there when Allegra’s face pops up from the bathroom. “Baby?”
“Yeah?” he answers with a sigh, looking into her big green eyes.
“Do you like that red dress we bought in Milan?” she asks.
Red dress bought in Milan? Never heard of it! “Sure baby, it’s amazing!”
“Would you please take it for me while I shower?”
“Sure baby, go and take your time.” He smiles, pushing her into the bathroom.
He’s so fucked. She would get so mad once she gets he has no ideas of the dress she has been talking about. He’s officially dead. And then he remembers Marco’s the one who takes her shopping, and he’s pretty sure –he actually hopes it, he had been to Italy with them.
He rushes downstairs, almost falling in the last steps, with his heart beating very fast, where he finds Marco still quietly sipping his coffee.
“Red dress we bought in Milan?” he asks.
Marco, with Mats’ big relief, nods and smiles. He walks upstairs and into the walk-in closet.
“This is it.” It’s so easy to him to open the closet and find the dress.
Mats smiles the brightest smile. “Cool” he thanks him with a look. “How would I do without you?”
“Mats?” Allegra calls him.
“Yeah, baby?”
Silence.
“Al?”
“Why are you being so sweet?” she asks.
“Bye.” Marco says quickly, and then rushes out of the house. It’s not a good sign when she asks question like that one, he had been there once, never the same mistake twice. Call him stupid.
Mats curses at him. “Baby…”
“Are you cheating on me and you want to leave me?!”
romaincrisis
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