David Beckham
For amz676:
Fixing your outfit before allowing your stylist to fix your hair a bit more as well as you makeup, you were handed your cards. Looking over them and the information on them, you quickly memorized most of the material before you were led out of the room. They hooked up your microphone before sending you out into the studio. As a retired player, when the chance to commentate the Euros had popped up, you had been happy to take it, your love of the sport never having decreased.
You were supposed to have a cohost but no one told you who it was, only that they were also a retired player. Fixing your skirt, you smiled as they counted down. "Hello, welcome to the 2016 Euros held in France. Tomorrow is the first day of actual games and play but today we'll be examining each team's strengths and weaknesses and who we pick as our favorite to win it all. Now, over to our correspondent who is watching the final touches being put on the stadium before the opening ceremony and match."
Your cue to stop was shown and you relaxed visibly. "You're doing great," said the producer as he walked out to talk to you. You have a couple minutes. Your cohost should be hear any moment to start analysis and stat talk."
"Who is my cohost?" you asked. "People failed to mention who he or she was."
"Oh, probably because they wanted to keep it under wraps about who it was. Your cohost is David Beckham." Your eyes widened as the name rolled off his tongue. You were definitely not expecting David Beckham to be your cohost, especially with his retreat from the spotlight after his ugly divorce, which had finally been finalized recently.
The sound of footsteps caused you to look past the producer and to lock eyes with none other than David Beckham. You smiled at him as he walked closer to the two of you, him doing the same. "You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I'm David Beckham."
"Nice to meet you, David," you smiled as you shook hands with each other.
"(Y/N), you're on air in ten," your producer shouted, causing David to nod before leaving. You turned your attention back to the camera.
"Thanks for that insightful information, Tom. Now, we start our analysis of the teams that are here and competing. I am joined by my cohost, Mr. David Beckham, for the occasion. How are you today, David?"
"I'm great, thank you, (Y/N)," David smiled before the two of you went through each team. It took forever and you felt exhausted afterwards but bid David goodbye with a bright smile before retreating to your hotel. The next day you were back at the studio, preparing for the opening ceremony and the opening match between France and Romania. Fixing your hair in the mirror, you nearly jumped out of your skin when David passed by you.
"Are you ready for today?" he asked you, causing you to jump slightly.
"Of course. I live and breathe the sport, after all," you replied, leading the two of you to the main studio. Sitting in your chairs, you and David waited for the cue before you started talking. "Hello and welcome to the 2016 European Championships. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and this is my cohost David Beckham. Now we send you to our friends as the opening ceremony is about to start. After the opening ceremony, we will bring you to the first match of the tournament," you spoke before the producer signaled that the camera was off and that you could relax.
Shuffling the papers in front of you so that your old notes were out of the way, you failed to notice David get up and walk over to your chair. He extended his hand, which you failed to notice for a few seconds before you sheepishly turned to look up at the legend. "Yes, David?"
"We're going to go watch the opening ceremony, aren't we?" David asked innocently, a small smile on his face.
"Yeah," you smiled back, taking his hand in your own and allowing him to help you up. He led you over to the couches in front of the TV where several workers were already laid out, ready to watch the opening ceremony and the first match of the whole tournament. You sat down and David sat next to you, not letting go of your hand just yet. You started to blush like a little school girl and you cursed your red cheeks. You were a grown woman for God's sakes, you weren't supposed to blush as red as a tomato every time some guy holds onto your hand for more than three seconds.
"But it's not just any guy," you reminded yourself, "it's f-ing David Beckham!" Your hands slipped out of each other's grasp when David was pulled to the side by one of the producers to talk about some of the things that would come up when you guys went back on air. Your smile dropping slightly due to the action, you turned your attention to the opening ceremony of the games. It was amazing, not that you were expecting anything less from France, but you couldn't help but become distracted from the opening ceremony when David rested his hand on your knee.
You turned your complete attention towards the screen and thanked whoever was listening that the two of you were in the last row of seats and therefore no one could see the action. David slowly moved his hand up until his hand was resting dangerously high on your thigh. You sucked in a breath when he leaned over to your ear and whispered into your ear, his hot breath on your ear causing you to shiver, "Don't act like you haven't been sending me lustrous looks the whole time, (Y/N)."
You didn't look away from the screen but you instead rested your own hand dangerously high on David's thigh. Brushing his inner thigh, you smirked as you heard him groan. "My hotel room. After we get out," you whispered to him.
"If I can control myself for that long," he winked.