Neymar x reader- boundless pontential -

chapter 14

Neymar stalked towards them, a smile plastered on his face that didn't quite really reach his eyes.

"I can see you're having fun" he laughed, and again, there was something about it that felt off. "Mind if I join?" he added cheekily. Y/n was conflicted, was she imagining all of this, or was there something genuinely wrong here?

Neymar's gaze shifted for a millisecond, and suddenly, y/n felt wet.

Not that kind of wet (unfortunately), the *bad kind*. The kind that makes you dread looking down at yourself because you know that your clothes have just been stained. Y/n let out a silent gasp, and Paqueta froze.

"Oh" a waiter looked at her apologetically, fumbling to apologise. "S-sorry, so sorry. Oh meu deus, I'm so sorry!".

A hand found its way onto y/n's shoulder. Though her drenched fabric brought on a faint chill, something about his hand instantly heated her up. "Calm down" Neymar ordered, he sounded authoritative, like he was completely in control. "You're making a scene".

The waiter apologised again, quickly making way to the next table. However, Jules stopped him in his tracks, starting to scold him rather violently.

Though they should probably have intervened, after all, it was an honest mistake. Something about Jules' flavourful language was hard to interrupt.

"That dress was worth more than you, you buffoon!".

"Your dad probably left you to get milk, huh?". That- and more insults were coming out of her mouth in a quick flurry of fire. Which considering the waiter's confused expression, was not being understood.

Neymar put his second hand on y/n. "I'd go get changed if I were you".

"No shit sherlock" y/n grumbled. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed, unable to look up from the floor. "Where's the restroom?".

"Don't know" he said flippantly. "I'll take you to my dressing room" and without warning, he started pushing her, guiding her towards the stairs.

"Are you insane? Do you want everyone to misunderstand? Neymar da silva santos jr, you are not taking me to your private fucking dressing room!" Y/n quieted her voice to whisper yells.

"Oh right" he said, as if he didn't consider the consequences. He briefly looked backwards and snapped his fingers. On perfect cue, loud music started playing.

"There, now no one's looking" he urged y/n along the stairs, and for some godforsaken reason, she chose to go along with it.

"Are you trying to be slow on purpose?" He asked.

"Try running up stairs with heels on!"
y/n snapped back.

Neymar groaned and proceeded to sweep y/n off her feet. "Ah!" she shrieked, reflexively wrapping her arms around him. "Are you crazy, let me down!".

"You sure you want that?" He quipped back playfully, easing his grip just a slight bit. Y/n held on to him tighter: "Nope, no, I'm sorry, no!".

Neymar cackled in response, quickly making his way up the stairs. After they reached the top, he dramatically kicked a door open and walked through. Was that really necessary, y/n thought, exasperated.

She wanted to ask him to let go again, but something told her that this time he wouldn't hesitate to let her flop onto the ground, so she kept quiet.

It was only when they finally reached another room with a wardrobe, vanity and makeup that y/n was let go.

"That was fun, anyways" Neymar walked in further to reach the wardrobe. He searched through it and pulled something out.

It ended up being a black dress, rather simple in design with a tiny slit at the side. "Here you go" he presented the piece of cloth so casually that y/n almost brushed it off as normal.

But no, this was very strange. The fact he had a black dress right in his dressing room, one that looks to be about her size is-

Don't tell me.

"You didn't...plan this did you?".

Y/n was expecting him to laugh and dismiss the idea immediately, maybe even raise his eyebrows in offense. Instead, his lips quirked up into a lazy grin, hands raising slowly in mock guilt.

"You got me" he admitted, still grinning. "I wasn't planning to actually go through with it but-" he cut himself off.

"But what?" Y/n pressed. "What made you think it was a good idea to embarrass me like that in front of your teammates!".

Neymar tilted his head, seeming to contemplate his answer. "Watching you dance with Paqueta was painful" he shrugged his shoulders. "You look much better in my arms".

Y/n was absolutely flaming with fury, but something about his words managed to light another flame up as well, one more passionate and intimate. Her anger was still winning though, she was not about to let this one pass so easily.

"What, are you jealous?" She sneered, chuckling to herself. "Of a married man, no less. Do you realise how ridiculous you sound?".

"Oh I'm aware" he replied shamelessly. He casted the dress away and stalked slowly back to y/n, only stopping when they were an inch apart "Trust me, I don't like sounding this dumb either".

He slowly reached his hand out, lightly grazing her waist, just barely hovering over it. Y/n couldn't help but shudder, her anger dissipating the minute he made contact.

"See?" He said, as if he proved a point. "You look so much better like this, with me".

Y/n couldn't take it anymore, her knees buckled, and she ended up leaning into him. "You're being oddly possessive" she sighed, her legs felt like jelly and she could barely breathe, everything was becoming too hot. "What? Do you want me all to yourself?".

Lowering his head to her neck, he blew on it, drawing a shiver from her. "What if I do?" He whispered.

Finally finding the strength, y/n managed to push him back. "Then too bad" she grinned up at him. "I'm not yours, Neymar".

"You aren't," he agreed. "Not yet, anyways".

A/n

Ugh, I'll be fully honest and say I'm not too happy with this chapter. The writing feels awkward and it's cut a bit short. I don't think I lived up to the excitement I caused with my cliffhanger.

Aside from that THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 3K AND YOUR LOVELY VOTES AND COMMENTS AND EVERYTHING REALLY, I'LL MAKE SURE MY NEXT CHAPTERS ARE BETTER, HONEST.

I try my hardest to update frequently, so stay tuned!