bonm4ti

[bonm4ti]

‘hot & heavy’ — leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x fem!reader

based on hot & heavy by lucy dacus !

italics are flashbacks

not proofread and idk if makes sense

so. many. words. (7.8k)

—

being back here makes me hot in the face

hot blood in my pulsing veins

england, you know, is home.

you associate that word with the country so often that it always surprises you that the dictionary definition of home isn't simply the polaroid of your house in milton keynes that you took when you were 8.

england is home even when you leave, and it's home when you come back after years away.

being back in england — specifically in milton keynes — makes your cheeks warm, and you're not sure whether it's the uncharacteristically hot sun or something deeper in the pit of your stomach that makes you all too aware of the hot blood in your pulsing veins.

heavy memories weighing on my brain

hot and heavy in the basement of your parents' place

your memories of milton keynes are varied — some are from your childhood, where you spent hours wishing on dandelions, kicking a ball around the neighbouring streets, and chasing the ice-cream van with a 50p coin you found in the gutter in the hopes of a screwball or a mr. whippy.

some memories are from your teenage years, where the bus ride to school was more entertaining than any parties your friends dragged you to in short dresses and the promise of a kiss from the good looking lad in the year above, no matter how much you insisted that you would much rather go to the cinema with your mates (and sneakily hold hands with your best friend).

few memories are from your adult years, when you decided to travel to neighbouring cities and spent hours exploring the intricacies of museum architecture and flirting to get free drinks in the new pub that opened around the corner from your secondary school.

every memory, though, includes her.

leah williamson — your childhood best friend, teenage love, and the reason why being back home feels both freeing and suffocating at the same time.

you used to be so sweet

leah used to pick flowers.

it was something that, more often than not, ended with you both being chased down the street by an angry neighbour who had fists in the air yelling that they were already on the phone to your mums and you would both be in for it when you got home.

it was always worth it, though, when after running so fast for so long you swear your legs could fall off, leah presents you with a fistful of whatever flowers were growing in that particular garden with some blades of grass and the roots still attached to the muddy bouquet. there would always be a dandelion, too, and the blonde girl would insist you make a wish just so she could pester you for hours after about what you had wished for.

and even when your mum does inevitably tell you off after the streetlights had come on and signalled your time to retreat home, the crumpled flowers you hold tight in your grasp remind you that tomorrow you'll do it all again, and the collection of wilted flowers on your windowsill will surely grow once more.

when she sees you again for the first time in almost 5 years, leah refrains from breaking into the nearest garden to steal you a flower and instead settles for a quick hug that feels more like home than any house she's ever lived in.

now you're a firecracker on a crowded street

couldn't look away even if i wanted

it’s merely a coincidence, you tell yourself, that your trip back home coincides with leah’s 26th birthday.

she invites you to a small get-together she’s having in london, and you try not to think about all the birthday traditions that have been broken in the years apart from your ex-best-friend. gone are the sleepovers you held the night before, gone are the parties your families had in your back-gardens, and gone are the shared slices of your favourite cakes.

get-togethers in hidden bars in london are new to you, but they seem familiar to leah and those she considers most important to her.

meeting up with her teammates and friends is a bittersweet experience, and you try not to think about how the leah they’re celebrating is wildly different to the leah you’re celebrating.

you look at the blonde and see the girl you once considered your better half, your extra limb, and they simply see the woman she is today.

leah’s the same as she always was, you notice from your seat at the bar, as she attracts the attention from the entire room without even trying. she’s still the same leah that was a thousand times more popular than you, and she’s still the same leah that never seemed to notice the hold she had on others.

you watch the way her eyes light up when she’s had a drink, and it takes you back to bonfire night when you were 7. when leah first held a sparkler on your crowded street, and her immediate thought was to try and cast a spell on you, giggling like a madman when you throw yourself to the floor like you had been struck.

you think the sparkle in her eyes is still there, and you pretend not to notice the way it brightens when she catches sight of you watching her. you couldn’t look away even if you wanted, and it takes a tap to your shoulder to snap you out of your leah-induced haze.

“kei!” you throw your arms around the ginger in a warm hug, and she responds back eagerly.

“hi, y/n/n, it’s so good to see you again.” keira smiles, squeezing your shoulders gently.

“it’s been a while.” you agree, letting her take the seat next to you.

you find yourself sticking with keira and other familiar faces, such alex and georgia, for a lot of the night — getting tipsy as you reminisce on shared memories and anecdotes about a certain blonde who was drunkenly serenading the entire bar.

at one point, it’s just you and keira, both equally drunk as you laugh about that time leah fell off a swing and was convinced that a ghost had pushed her.

“she was mad — still is, i think.” keira grins, glancing over to leah as she dances around the room.

“it’s a wonder i survived so long.” you agree, a smile on your flushed cheeks.

“i always thought you were it for each other, you know.” keira muses quietly, glancing between you and leah across the room.

“me too.” you take a large gulp of whatever drink georgia had forced into your hand 5 minutes prior.

“i still do.” you glance up at her in confusion, but keira’s slightly slurred words continue, “i know i’m drunk, and i know you are too, but i really think you shouldn't give up on her. she never gave up on you, not really.” at your silence, keira backtracks slightly, wincing at her own drunken word-vomit. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have- i know you're happy in spain now, i didn't mean to bring up old-"

"i’m moving back to london soon.”

and with that, you make your way to the bar to order another drink, eyes drifting around the room and automatically landing on the woman of the hour, who takes that as her cue to stumble over for the first time that night.

“dandelion! i didn’t think you were coming!” she shouts over the song that you know was once her favourite, wrapping her arm over your shoulder and squeezing you close in a once-familiar embrace.

“neither did i.” you admit quietly, never one to be able to lie to her.

“i’m glad you did, now we can sing our song!”

“no karaoke-“

“yes karaoke!”

and like no time had passed at all since you were leah and y/n, the blonde leads you to the small stage with a firm hand.

“one song, and then i’m sitting back down.” you say firmly, and leah simply grins, pushing a piece of hair out of your face as gently as she can with her clumsy hands.

“that’s my shy girl.” she coos as she pinches your cheek teasingly, and you simply roll your eyes. "you never were one for the stage, were you, dandelion?"

try to walk away but i come back to the start

led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer

the night before your year 11 prom was spent in leah's bed — which was practically yours too with how much time you spent there growing up — laying side by side and staring at the ceiling as if the answer to why your cheeks were so warm was written above the bed.

"what if someone asks me to dance?" it's the first question you ask that betrays how nervous you really are for the upcoming event, and leah scoffs in response.

"tell them to shove off because you've already got a dance partner." the answer is so leah that you have to take a moment to roll your eyes, and because she apparently has eyes on the side of her head, she kicks you for it.

"i don't suppose that dance partner is you, is it?" you tease lightly, bumping your shoulder with hers and watching expectantly for her rebuttal.

"who else would it be?" she turns to look at you, blue eyes searching your face for the answer she knows she'll never get.

because the answer is nobody. there's not a single other person on planet earth you would trust to dance with you, and since there aren't any martians visiting any time soon, you'll stick with leah.

and stick with leah you do.

you're attached to her side when your mums take as many pictures as their cameras can physically hold, leah's hand settled on your waist and your head leaned against her shoulder as you stand outside your house. you pretend the blush on your cheeks is from the never-ending compliments from your families and the warm sun, and not the way that your best friend squeezes your hip gently to remind you pay attention to the cameras and not her.

you remain within arm's length of leah the entire night except for the 2 minutes that she disappeared to fetch you a drink that she knew you would need in the warm room, and even then she had tried to take you with her.

your interlocked pinky fingers keep you close as you make your way around the room, mindlessly chatting to your classmates.

you didn’t go near the dance floor, though, no matter how often leah tried to drag to towards it. you had made your opinions on dancing very clear and leah swore if that she heard the words “i’d rather die” come out of your mouth again then she’d kill you herself.

instead, the pair of you mingle with all of your friends and poke fun at the teachers’ outfits as they supervise the room with eagle eyes, though the blonde never lets up in her begging for a dance.

“come on, dandelion, just dance with me? please?” the pout on leah’s face is one you’ve seen many times in your decade of friendship, and not once have you ever had the heart to deny it.

“lee,” you whine, feeling your resolve crumble further when she steps closer. “i’m not a dancer. i don’t dance.”

“i do! i’ll show you how to do it.” she looks down at you with her most pleading expression, “please?”

“i’ll look-“

“you won’t look stupid, and don’t even think about suggesting it again.” she squeezes your pinky gently with her own, and you know you’re gone. “if anyone says anything, i’ll kick ‘em right in the face with these stupid heels — and that’s a promise!” you bite your lip hesitantly with a smile and leah presses further, “come on, y/n/n, please? don’t make me beg in-front of everyone here.”

“…fine. one dance.”

“that’s all i need, my girl.”

with leah’s hand in your own, you don’t feel nearly as nervous as you would’ve normally, and she leads you to the floor where you spend the rest of the night.

you find that you don’t hate dancing so much when leah’s your partner.

ask me all the questions that your parents wouldn't answer

"did you know that olivia in your geography class has two mums?”

it’s a tuesday night and leah’s in your bed. you’re 15 and there’s not much to do on a school night other than talk about whatever comes to mind. leah’s the first, tonight, and you wonder if she’ll finally let slip the reason she’s been deep in thought all day.

“really? she’s never mentioned it before.” you shrug, unsure of where your best friend is going with the conversation. “i guess she wouldn’t have a reason to, would she?”

leah bites her lip, clearly deep in thought. you have half a mind to tell her not to think so hard or her head will hurt, but you refrain.

“hey, what’s up?” you poke her cheek gently, hoping to snap her out of whatever headspace she was in. “you a homophobe or something? because i’ll have you know my cousin’s gay and-“

“i’m not a homophobe, you dick!” leah shoves you with a huff, and you grin at your success. “i’m just curious!”

“bi-curious or just curious?” you tilt your head, knowing it would only annoy her further.

“dandelion, i’m getting annoyed here.” she warns, glaring at you as best as she can with her 16-year-old baby face. “i’m just-“ she sighs, flopping back down on your bed. “do you think it’s…okay?”

“for?” you ask, laying down beside her.

“for two girls to…y’know, have a baby? get married?”

“i don’t see why it wouldn’t be okay?”

“i don’t see why either, but…” leah glares up at the ceiling. “when you think of getting married, what do you think of?”

you blink at the slight change of subject, but conversations with your best friend often go from topic to topic, so you shrug and answer honestly.

“cake- ow, leah! don’t hit me!”

“be serious for once!”

“i’m trying!” you huff, rubbing your shoulder from where she had so kindly elbowed you. “okay, when i think of getting married i think…a white dress, and some nice flowers. i think about songs i’d like to have play too. and cake.”

“what about who you’re marrying?”

“i don’t know, i never think of that.” you shrug, wondering what leah was getting at.

“well isla in our form class is convinced she’s going to marry jack, and she says she imagines it all the time. do you?”

“do i imagine marrying jack? god, no.” you snort at the idea. “he picks his nose still, did you know that?”

“y/n! be serious!” leah groans.

“stop beating around the bush and ask me what you really want to ask, then!” you huff, kicking her shin.

there’s silence for a moment, and you risk a glance towards the blonde.

she’s already looking at you — blue eyes piercing yours. “…do you ever think of marrying a girl?”

you roll over to your side and look back at her, eyes roaming over her freckled face that seemed awfully troubled for a simple tuesday night.

you shrug, “i dreamt i married lucy liu once, but i think that was because i fell asleep watching charlie’s angels.”

“was it…did it feel weird?” she furrows her brows the way she always does, and you reach out and press your thumb between them to remind her to stop.

“no, it was nice until she went all bridezilla on my dad. i can’t remember why, though. think he said her dress was ugly or something.” you remove your hand from leah’s face, but it doesn’t go far because the blonde reaches up and intertwines your pinkies and lays your hands on the pillow between your faces.

“i’d go bridezilla on him too. just for fun, though.” leah nods thoughtfully.

“and that’s why i wouldn’t marry you.” you roll your eyes, squeezing her finger.

“no? not even if i proposed with a million dandelions?” she asks with a smug smile, and you grin as she finally seems to relax.

“hmm…if you did that and got me a pretty ring, i wouldn’t say no.” you nod.

“the haribo ones aren’t good enough for you anymore?” she smiles, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips.

“diamonds are a girl’s best friend, lee. you gotta know that if you’re ever gonna propose to someone.” you poke her nose gently with your spare hand, and she grabs it with a gentle squeeze.

“i’ll keep it in mind.”

how could i deny a diamond in the rough?

it was awfully cliché, and you're aware of that, but leah had insisted that it was a rite of passage to play dancing queen on your 17th birthday, and so you allow the blonde to twirl you to her heart's content as the lyrics blare through your house. she sings along as she always does, never one to shy away from showing her passion for music and love for singing.

your families are scattered around the house and the back garden — leah’s grandmother playing scrabble with your aunt at the kitchen table, jacob kicking a football outside with your cousins, and both your’s and leah’s mums gossiping over a glass of wine while your dads manned the barbecue on the deck. to anyone else, this wouldn’t be considered a very good 17th birthday celebration, but to you it was perfect.

your other friends don’t understand that this is how you’d rather spend your birthday over getting drunk in a field (though, you weren’t opposed to that every now and then), and so it’s only leah who you spend the evening with, singing, dancing, and drinking as much as your families allow.

when it’s time to blow out your candles, it’s leah who stands beside you with a soft smile as your families sing the song you hate so much. it’s leah who presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to close your eyes and make wish.

‘i wish it could always be like this.’

you open your eyes as watch as the smoke rises to ceiling, blushing as everyone cheers and claps, and giggling when jacob begs for the cake to be cut already.

“what did you wish for?” leah asks quietly, eyes solely on you as you watch your dad carry the cake over to the counter.

“you’ve asked me that almost everyday since we were 6, lee.” you chuckle, leaning into the arm she has around your waist. “and i’ve never once told you.”

“i was hoping today would be different.” she pouts dramatically, “but, alas, my dandelion keeps her secrets.” the hand she places over her heart makes you roll your eyes fondly, and leah simply continues her theatrics for as long as she can before getting distracted with a slice of cake — typical.

you can’t help but feel like today is different, though. maybe it’s just because your head feels a little fuzzy from the beers your dad had allowed you to have, or maybe it’s because leah’s arm had been wrapped around your waist all day and you wonder how you’ll cope if she never does it again. either way, there’s something in the air that evening, and you feel it close in on you when leah shoves a piece of cake in your face, smearing icing across your cheeks with a laugh so loud, you wonder if you’ll go deaf.

you freeze in shock when it happens, and even though you can see everyone in the room cracking up, it’s leah’s laugh that captures your attention, and it’s her smile that you want to shove a piece of cake into.

so you do.

war is declared that night, and despite your mum’s protests about getting food everywhere, you and leah find yourselves in a cake fight that resembles the great snowball war of ‘05.

your cousins and jacob join in, like all children do, and you can hear your dad placing bets on who’ll be the first to tap out, but your attention is solely on your best friend and how stupidly beautiful she looks when she laughs. you don’t know anyone in the world who could pull off a cake-smeared face so well, but leah seems to do it in a way that has your heart beating faster with more than just adrenaline as you run around the kitchen with cake in your fists.

you know you’ll regret this all when you have to clean up later, and you know your hair will never forgive you for the amount of chocolate in it, but in those moments where cake is flying across the kitchen and out the back door, you know you’ll be okay.

eventually, your mum puts a stop to it all and orders your dad to hose you all off in the garden (something he takes sadistic pleasure in as you all scream and run away from the ice-cold water, leah even using your dog as a shield while you used her), and your aunt ends up taking your cousins home before they could catch a cold.

people start to leave slowly, giving you one last birthday wish and a kiss to the head, until finally it’s just you, leah, and your parents.

your mum sends you both upstairs with a reminder not to stay up too late gossiping like always, and you and leah simply share a look before running up the stairs and attempting to push one another down them.

after you take turns showering and changing into some pyjamas, you both settle on your bed with the lord of the rings trilogy lined up for the 4th time that month, just because it was leah’s favourite.

“that’s you.” you point to the screen where gollum currently is, like you always do, and leah smacks a pillow down on your face, like she always does. “that never gets old.” you grin.

“it never gets funny.” the blonde huffs, stealing popcorn out of your hand instead from the bowl like a civilised person. “one day that mouth of yours will get you in trouble, dandelion.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.” she nudges your shoulder with her own. “and i’ll have you know i look nothing like gollum; i’m far more beautiful.”

“that’s not a very nice thing to say about your twin, leah.” you shake your head disapprovingly, and leah scoffs.

“that’s it!” and before you can even begin to comprehend what’s happening, leah’s attacking you.

the pillow that was once behind her head is now in her hands as she swings it down on your face, and you barely have time to react before it comes down again. leah’s laugh is loud as you squeal, trying to escape her wrath to no avail.

“i surrender!” you finally shout after far too long, and leah grins triumphantly from her place above you.

your breathing is heavy, and your cheeks are warm, but leah’s eyes are comforting. they don’t hold your gaze like usual, and instead they glance down to your parted lips with an unrecognisable expression.

“you surrender?” she double checks, holding the pillow threateningly.

you nod, trying to catching your breath.

“and you won’t say anything else about my appearance?”

“my lips are sealed.” you nod, watching as leah drops the pillow

“i can’t think of anything clever to say about your mouth,” she says, brushing some of your hair out of your face gently, “i just…”

you hold your breath as leah leans in close, lips brushing against yours, tentatively, for the first time.

you think about the first time leah ever kissed you when you were 6. when you had just learned how to ride your bike and in your excitement to show your best friend, you stopped looking where you were going. you had hit the curb and flown over the handlebars and onto the pavement. it was leah who pulled you up to your feet, and it was her who pressed a magic kiss to your grazed palm to stop your tears.

you remember thinking it was best magic kiss you had ever gotten, because it worked in taking away like the pain like all magic kisses too.

now, though, you know it pales in comparison to this.

you don’t think anything could ever live up to feeling of leah’s soft lips on yours, and her gentle hold on your jaw. nothing will ever compare to the way she slowly pulls away, smiles at you, and then pulls you back in for another.

you led me in your world until you had enough

the day after your kiss with leah, you find that she’s nowhere to be found.

you don’t wake up to leah’s arms wrapped around you like you usually do after a sleepover, and a quick look around your house tells you that leah’s not downstairs critiquing your mum’s pancakes like usual either. your dog sits at the front door whining in the way he only does when he misses your best friend, and you wonder why leah left so early and where she could have possibly gone.

you find that as the day goes on, your worry for leah increases. she hasn't responded to — or even read — the numerous texts you've sent, and even jacob had simply shrugged his shoulders when you asked where she could be.

you're pretty much moments away from reporting her as missing when you hear her familiar laugh in the park near your house. you wonder if you've gone crazy enough to start hearing things, but once glance out your bedroom window confirms that leah is, in fact, at the park. she's kicking a ball around with some girls you recognise as her friends from football, and you wonder why she hasn't invited you like she normally does.

despite every cell and fibre in your body telling you to close your window and pretend you never saw her, you find yourself clipping the lead onto your dog's collar and walking him across the road like you had a reason to be there apart from confronting your stubborn best friend on why she had seemingly disappeared all day.

leah doesn’t notice you — if she does, she ignores you — as you approach, your dog tugging the lead with the insane strength that only appears whenever he sees leah.

“hey, y/n!” one of leah’s friends waves, and that’s when the blonde finally looks your way.

leah reluctantly kicks the ball away, sending her friends chasing after it, and turns to you with an air of coldness that you had never been on the receiving end of before.

“haven’t see you all day,” you remark casually, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes dismissively. “is everything okay?”

“yeah, fine.” leah shrugs, patting your dog’s head lightly as he happily licks her hand.

“oh.” you’re not really sure what to say after that. you watch her for a moment, taking notice of the way she avoids your gaze. “did you want to talk about-“

“look, i’m really sorry but my coach says i don’t need any distractions. can you leave me alone?”

with that, your best friend (?) walks away, leaving you standing there in confusion.

“coach says i don’t need distractions.”

you wonder if leah sees you as a distraction, or simply just the kiss. you hope it’s neither, but the way she seems to avoid you like the plague for weeks after your conversation tells you it’s probably both. she spends all her time with football, and even in school she seems to find a way to distance herself.

and so you see less of your best friend as her passion for football grows, and you feel selfish when you find yourself missing her.

you don’t understand why you can’t just be happy for her, but a part of you deep down knows that it’s because you don’t want her to be happy without you.

she is, though. and that hurts more than anything. leah seems perfectly fine to spend all her time with her football friends, and you find that your late night talks have been replaced with an occasional text asking about homework that never leads to anything more than a 1 minute conversation.

leah doesn’t call anymore, and so you don’t either. she doesn’t knock on your door and beg you to come out, so you take the long way around town to avoid her house.

you still attend her matches — because no matter how upset you are at her, she’s still your best friend and you’d always support her — but she doesn’t run to you at the end of the games anymore, instead she sticks close to her teammates and barely glances in your direction.

drifting away from leah is a slow process, and yet you feel completely blindsided because one minute she was your leah, and the next it felt like you barely knew her at all.

you knew that i wanted you to bend the rules

how did i believe i had a hold on you?

losing leah feels like losing a part of yourself, and you hate that it’s because, technically, you are.

you had always been leah and y/n.

when one of you wasn’t in school, teachers would ask the other where your other half was. when your mum made dinner every evening, there was always enough for another plate because she knew that your best friend would be there whether she was invited or not. when leah’s mum booked that family holiday to spain in 2008, there was an extra ticket with your name on it because she would never dream of separating leah from her y/n. you would never find one without the other, and that’s the way it always had been.

leah and y/n.

you don’t know how to just be y/n.

you find yourself looking to your side to tell her a funny thought that popped in your head, only to be met with nothing because leah’s not around anymore.

your parents don’t understand when you tell them you’ve simply grown apart, and neither do you, because ‘growing apart’ wasn’t in the cards for leah and y/n.

leah and y/n were supposed to stay together until the very end, even when the street lights turned off. leah and y/n were meant to stand by each other’s side, even when you were being lectured for stealing dandelions from mr. miller’s garden. leah and y/n were forever and always, like you had promised when you were 7.

but you’re not 7 anymore, and leah hadn’t given you a dandelion in so long, you wonder if you still know how to make a wish.

you were stupid to think you were ever important to leah. how did you believe you had a hold on her?

you were always stronger than people suspected

underestimated and overprotected

you knew that leah joining the senior squad for arsenal was inevitable — she was an amazing player with passion for the game and a love for arsenal that could rival even the biggest gooners.

it doesn’t surprise you at all to hear through the grapevine about leah’s permanent move to london, but you think that fate isn’t on your side when you find out she lives close to your new london flat that you share with your friends from university.

you’re just grateful that your busy school schedule and leah’s packed football life means no accidental meetings in the big city.

except it does. because of course it does.

you think maybe it's because your body had been accustomed to being near leah your entire life that it seeks her out even when you know it shouldn't. you think that must be why you always seem to bump into her no matter where you go.

it certainly doesn't help that you can't resist attending her matches too. call it routine, or simply call it love, but you don't think there's a single world where you wouldn't support the girl you once considered your best friend. watching leah play football had been a staple in your life for as long as you can remember, and there had been too much change in your life for you to ever consider giving this comfort up.

you pretend you don’t notice the way her eyes always seem to find your figure in the mostly-empty stands, and you always make sure to wear a jacket over your williamson jersey just so she doesn’t know that she’s the only reason you’re still there when everyone else goes home.

after a particularly good match, a few months into the season, leah finally picks up the courage to approach you. it had been months of longing stares from the pitch, showing off whenever she was near your section, and trying to catch your eye at the end of a match, and leah was now finally ready to speak to you.

properly. for the first time since she decided to be a coward almost a year ago and tell you you were a distraction instead of saying the truth.

the truth was that she loved you.

leah had loved you for as long as she could remember, and she was sure that she’d love you for the rest of her life.

the only thing to do now was ensure that you’d actually be in her life, so she could love you up close again.

it’s after a pretty intense match that leah finally had enough to confidence to approach you (after a few words of encouragement from alex, of course). you were sat in the stands, talking animatedly with another girl about the game.

leah swallows the brief feeling of jealousy, and walks towards your seat. you look up almost immediately, like you can sense her, and your expression doesn’t change. you pull your jacket tighter over your body, and leah catches sight of the red jersey beneath.

she hopes it’s her last name across your back.

“big fan?” leah nods towards your jersey as she leans over the barriers slightly, her voice surprisingly not giving away the nerves she was feeling at being face-to-face with you again after so long.

“oh, absolutely,” you agree, your voice dripping with the sarcasm that she knows too well, “i just love vicky losada.”

leah scoffs, “you’re wearing #6, really? let me see.” she gestures for you to take your jacket off, and you shake your head.

“6 my favourite number.” you shrug.

“14 is better.” she taps the #14 on her shorts pointedly.

“ever so humble, williamson.”

“you know me well, dandelion.” the nickname falls from her lips as easily as it used to, as if no time had passed at all since the last time she said it.

like you were still leah and y/n.

she seems to think so too, because leah grabs her own jersey and pulls it over her head. “here,” she says, holding it out to you, “it’s not a #6, but one day it will be. for you.”

you hesitantly take the warm jersey, “i’ll hold you to that.”

“wait, let me sign it.” leah grabs a sharpie that someone had left in the seat beside you and you hold the jersey out for her, trying to keep your eyes solely on her hands and not anywhere else. “there.”

“how much do you think this would go for on ebay?” you ask, folding the jersey and tucking it under your arm.

“not funny.” leah frowns, the familiar crease forming between her eyebrows. “you have to keep that.”

“we’ll see.” you grin, waving goodbye as you step back.

“see you next week.” leah waves, watching you go.

it’s only when you get home do you realise what she’s written on the jersey.

‘call me?’ with her phone number attached.

your roommate wonders what has you smiling so widely for the rest of the evening.

—

things with leah don't go back to how they were — you doubt they ever will — but the new normal, you find, isn't so bad either. it definitely helped that leah had offered a sincere apology for what she had said and how she had been acting with a collection of your favourite snacks, your favourite movie, and a dandelion she had insisted you use to make a wish about her embarassing herself at her next match — which she seemed to think she deserved for how she had treated you.

you don't bother telling her that when you close your eyes and blow on the flower, you only wish for the best for her, like you always have.

you want the best for leah, and a part of you deep down knows that you don’t fit into that idea anymore.

you cherish the time you spend with your once-best friend, and you let her cart you around london with her teammates for months before you break the news that you’re leaving for good.

when i went away it was the only option

couldn't trust myself to proceed with caution

the job offer comes at the perfect time. if you didn’t know better, you’d probably say it was divine intervention or the years of dandelion wishes catching up to you and granting you this once and for all.

either way, you don’t dwell on what causes your boss to offer you a position in spain, you simply give a grateful smile and ask when you can start.

you try not to think about the fact that spain reminds you of leah — of that family holiday you were invited to back when you were 9. you try not to think of the hours you spent playing mermaids in the pool and getting sunburned while eating as much food as your little bodies could handle.

you think you’d be able to find a connection to leah no matter where in the world you are.

every time you walk past a group of children playing football, you’re taken back the hours of running around fields with your blonde best friend as she dribbled past you like you weren’t even there — and then letting you take the ball back moments later because she felt bad.

every time you go grocery shopping, your brain subconsciously reminds you which foods leah does and doesn’t like, as if she’ll be popping around for tea like you live on the same street again and not in a whole different country.

leah didn’t take that easily, either — the fact that you wouldn’t be within in walking distance of her anymore.

you remember the way her eyes shined with tears when you showed her your transfer email. you remember the way she begged you stay, insisting that the better pay and higher position wouldn’t matter if you moved in together. she promised she would take care of bills, and that all you’d have to do is stay.

she didn’t understand that it wasn’t like how it used to be.

leah wasn’t the sun. not anymore. your life had to revolve around something else now.

spain is quite sunny, anyway. you’re sure you’ll find something new.

the most that i could give to you was nothing at all

the best that i could offer was to miss your calls

you settle into your new home quickly, and when you ignore the constant ache in your chest, you find that spain makes you quite happy.

leah calls more than she did when you were in london, and you find yourself purposely ignoring them for the sake of letting her down easily. you lived in spain now, and leah lived in london. it just wouldn’t work.

you wish you were a big enough person to pick up the phone, but you knew that the second you hear her voice again, you’d be back to square one.

the most that you can give is nothing at all.

try to walk away but i come back to the start

and it happens over and over and over and over again

over and over and over and over again

i wish i was over it, over it, over it, over it

even in spain, you think of leah.

you always think of leah.

you watch her games whenever you can — both for england and for arsenal. you buy a williamson #6 jersey when she changes her number and you wear it proudly whenever you sit in front of the tv and watch her play the game you had become so accustomed to.

the signed jersey from all those years ago is the one you wear to sleep. leah’s message has long since faded, and it doesn’t smell like her anymore, but the comfort it brings is the same as it always was.

every birthday, you find yourself staring at the candles wondering what you should wish for. back when you had leah everything, you could always come up with something new to wish for. now, though, you don’t know. there’s only one thing you want, and you can’t have her it. when you close your eyes, the warmth of the candles in front of your face uncomfortably familiar, you only see images of leah. you see her smiling, laughing, and playing.

you wish for her happiness.

you’re not sure what that means for you.

a hidden gem, my own goldmine

you had the wide and wild eyes

leah isn’t just your favourite footballer anymore.

she’s an inspiration to thousands of people, one of the best in her field, and you know deep down that you’ve done the right thing by leaving.

she’s doing everything she ever wanted, what does it matter if she’s not doing it with you?

you’re sure she doesn’t miss you, anyway.

you pretend not to notice when leah views your instagram stories, and you act like it doesn’t make your ache to reach out to her.

but you can’t.

you were a secret to yourself

you couldn't keep from anyone else

now you're the biggest brightest flame

you are a fire that can’t be tamed

you're better than ever, but i knew you when

leah williamson, england captain. but you remember when she was simply leah, the girl with legs too long for her body and a smile too wide for someone in the middle getting told off for tracking mud into her mum's kitchen.

leah williamson, european champion. but you were there when she was just leah williamson, the teenager determined to prove herself and make her family proud.

you held her when she had a bad game, and you cheered on the sidelines when she played her first match as a gunner.

before she was anyone else, she was your best friend.

but...she had always been more than that, hadn't she?

she was always meant for more than you and your garden bouquets and your late night conversations.

she was always going to be more than that little street on milton keynes, and maybe you had always known that you were doomed for heartbreak.

leah williamson had never really been yours.

not even when you were 16, and she told you she liked you the way girls should like boys.

she wasn't yours when she tentatively pressed her lips against yours for the first time on your 17th birthday.

she wasn't even yours when she promised she was.

she had always been her own person, and you were simply the idiot on the sidelines with your arms open for whenever she felt like being someone else’s for a moment.

she had never been yours, but you had known since the day she first presented you with a stolen flower when you were 6 that you were hers.

leah wasn't yours, much like that dandelion wasn't really yours either. because she had ripped it from the ground outside mr. miller's house much like she had done to your heart when she told you that you were a distraction.

you’ve had a long time to get over leah, and an even longer time to find yourself outside of being her best friend. but either you simply don’t want to, or that birthday wish you made when you were turning 17 really did come true, because you find that leah’s the only person you want even after years apart. even after leah had broken your heart and failed to fix it, you still want her to hold you at the end of the night and tell you everything she thinks and feels, and you want nothing more than to listen to her voice and the steady beat of her heart and know that you’re home.

you think that maybe it’s not a bad thing to still want leah. maybe you can start over. you can be leah and y/n again.

it's bittersweet to see you again.

you spend most of your time home falling back into routine with leah, much like the one you had when you were 16.

and while the conversations no longer revolve around who of your classmates fancies who, or how badly you think you did on your recent exam, you feel the same warmth on your cheeks as you did when leah first held your hand so many years before.

your inside jokes still make you laugh harder than any comedy show you've been to, and leah's arm over your shoulder fits better than that tailored coat you got for your 21st birthday.

being back with leah feels right, and that terrifies you.

because it was wrong, wasn't it?

it was wrong to look at leah and see everything you could've had.

but when she catches your eye and glances down to your lips with pink cheeks, you think maybe you'll always be the girls in milton keynes, and maybe the flowers blooming the ground would belong to you once again.

the grin on her lips makes you hot in the face, hot blood in your pulsing veins.

heavy memories weigh on your brain as she presses her lips against yours like they were coming home, and you register her slide something soft into your palm as she kisses you.

reluctantly, you pull away with bated breath and open your hand, peering down curiously at what you now hold.

a dandelion.

“make a wish, y/n.”

you glance up at leah — your leah.

“i don’t think i need to.”

—

[bonm4ti]

Jenni hermoso, Olympian, tattooed clown, game making goal scorer. you deserve a kiss on the lips and I’ll give it to you myself 💋

[bonm4ti]

what did alexia say in laias story

"eres tontísima, tía"

"you are the dumbest, girl"

but the way alexia just froze 😭

(we are the biggest team of dumb dumbs)

[bonm4ti]

bestie decided to appear x

‘detentions and piggybacks’ — fc barcelona femení

barça x teen!reader

mostly alexia x teen!reader

written like 2 hours after my eras tour show oops💀

potential grammar mistakes ?

—

you’re a good kid, alexia knows this.

she knows you try your best at school even though you think it’s pointless, she knows you’re never late and you complete your assigned work in hotel rooms or on the coach when there’s an away match. she knows your homework is always handed in on time and she knows that you’re smarter than you’ll ever give yourself credit for. alexia knows that even though football is your life, you dedicate some time to school because it’s what she thinks you should do.

but when you text her on friday afternoon that you won’t be able to make it to training because you’ve got an after-school detention, alexia finds herself wondering if you really are as well behaved as she thought.

maybe she’s biased because she thinks the world of you — the young barça prodigy who was promoted to the first team at only 15 and is putting in regular minutes now at 16.

alexia is your captain and maybe she’s soft on you because you’re so young, but she never thought you’d misbehave in school. she thought you were better than that. she thought you cared about football enough not to jeopardise it by missing training.

but clearly she was wrong.

it’s why you’re in trouble with her the next day.

it’s a saturday, and you enter the locker room the same way you always do — piggybacked on whichever teammate was unlucky enough to be the closest to you when you entered the building.

today, it’s ingrid.

mapi walks beside you both, poking your side and teasing you about your detention the day before, speculating what you could’ve done to receive it.

you’re tight-lipped about the whole thing, though, but you let out a little giggle every-time mapi suggests something downright diabolical.

“did you…forget your pants and go naked? you always forget your things.”

“no, mapi, i didn’t go into school naked, you freak.” you shake your head, sliding off ingrid’s back when she finally reaches your locker. “thanks, ingrid.” you pat her shoulder gently. “i rate your ride a 7/10 — something was really hindering my experience by annoying me.” you shake your head disappointingly.

“a 7?!” ingrid scoffs, “patri dropped you last week and she still got an 8! what was the problem with mine?”

you point to mapi, who immediately raises her hand and proclaims her innocence. “i wasn’t trying to annoy you, i was just curious!”

“well, curious george, thanks to you i have the lowest rating this season!” ingrid frowns, pointing to where you’re currently writing a big ‘7’ next to her name on your little whiteboard on your locker.

“actually, mapi has the lowest.” ona, who’s locker was right beside yours, points to mapi’s name on the list, a bit higher than ingrid’s.

“a 0?! when did i get that?!” mapi squawks, getting closer to your whiteboard to inspect it as ingrid walks away complaining about her 7 to frido.

“when you refused to piggyback me to the pitch 2 months ago.” you shrug, putting the lid back on your whiteboard pen and clipping it back onto your locker. “automatic zero.”

mapi glares. “well that shouldn’t even count! i was injured!”

“hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” you smile innocently, pulling out your boots from your bag and taking off your shoes.

“i do hate the game! it’s a stupid game! ranking our piggybacks, who does that?!”

“ignore her, nena,” ona throws her arm over your shoulder, “maría’s just jealous that she’s never gotten higher than a 6.”

“well you’re hardly sitting on a 10, batlle.” mapi retorts, gesturing to the list.

“i think an 8 is perfectly respectable, thank you very much.” ona grins, “a 0 however…well, that’s just rough.” she pats mapi’s shoulder condescendingly.

“it doesn’t count!” mapi fumes, a hairs breadth away from stomping her foot.

“ah ah ah, if it’s on the list then it counts.” you defend your sacred list passionately.

“well-“

mapi’s interrupted by alexia, who clears her throat from behind her.

“hola capi.” maría smiles innocently. “you’re looking absolutely ravishing toda-“

“come off it, maría.” alexia rolls her eyes, shoving mapi’s shoulder lightly. “i’m here for her, not you.” the captain gestures towards you, who immediately frowns in confusion, wondering why alexia wants to talk to you.

jana and bruna are no help when they immediately chorus, “ooooo, someone’s in troubleeee.”

you flip them off, “i’m not in trouble!” and then, you risk a glance at alexia. “am i?”

the captain says nothing, which really says everything.

“what?!” you turn to alexia fully with a slight pout. “i haven’t even done anything yet! it’s 8am!”

she raises an eyebrow, still not speaking.

“oh.” this is serious.

“yes, ‘oh.’ walk with me, y/n.” alexia turns on her heel and starts walking towards the pitch, leaving you no choice but to scramble after her, ignoring the fact that you only have one boot on.

“did you hear that, ona?” mapi whispers loudly, “capi called her ‘y/n.’ the nena is cooked, as the kids say.”

you frown at that, speeding up your chase after the captain. are you cooked?

you try to think of what you could’ve done to get into trouble with your captain, but your mind draws a blank.

you hadn’t posted anymore stupid pictures of her to your instagram since she threatened to change your password, you hadn’t accidentally leaked the new transfer like you did last season, and you weren’t even the one who drew a moustache on her picture in the corridor.

“if it’s about the moustache, then it wasn’t me ale, it was vicky! i promise!” you try to defend yourself, but it falls on deaf ears as alexia finally stops outside, turning to you with her arms crossed. “you don’t believe me? i’ve got a video of her doing it and everything! i can show you-“

“it’s not about that.”

“…it’s not?” you tilt your head, looking up at the disappointed look on alexia’s face as your heart sinks into your stomach.

that look had never been directed at you before.

the team always jokes that the younger players are alexia’s kids, and though she always denies it, the captain always finds herself acting like your guys’ parent. sometimes, when she loses one of you, she finds herself asking “where’s my kid?” and then vehemently denies it when someone (irene) points it out.

whenever one of her kids the younger players are messing around, she sends them a disappointed look and they immediately stop.

but you had never been on the receiving end of it.

vicky says it’s because you’re ale’s favourite, but alexia always counters by saying that she tolerates you all equally, even though everyone knows it’s not true.

you are her favourite, and that’s why it hurts so much that she’s disappointed in you.

you go above and beyond everyday to make alexia proud, and you usually do a pretty good job. but now she’s disappointed and you wonder if she’ll ever smile at you again.

“i don’t understand…” you say uncharacteristically timidly, staring at the grass below your feet. “why am i in trouble?” you wait for an answer, head hung low so you don’t have to see the look in alexia’s eyes.

“can you look at me, please?” her voice is a bit softer than before, but it’s still not the tone she usually talks to you in and you can already feel the warmth in your eyes and the burning at the back of your throat.

you raise your head just enough to see that alexia is frowning, and it makes you feel even worse.

“it’s about yesterday.” she finally puts you out of your misery.

“yesterday? but…but i wasn’t even here yesterday.” you frown now too, mirroring alexia’s look like you often do.

“exactly.” she nods.

“but i texted! i told you i wasn’t coming, i didn’t just skip. i called jona, too.” you defend, waving your hands around not unlike alexia does when she’s talking to the team. “and it was a legitimate reason this time!”

“that’s not the problem.” she stops you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder to stop your movements. “y/n, you got a detention.”

“i know, but i didn’t do anything bad, ale, i swear.” you look so sincere, and alexia finds herself believing you. she softens, just a bit.

“can you tell me what you did then? because it better have been worth missing training for.”

alexia expects you to say something silly, like maybe you accidentally kicked a football through a classroom window, or you were late to class because you got distracted by a butterfly or something.

what she doesn’t expect is for you to blush.

your face turns as red as it usually does after a long gym session, and alexia is even more curious than earlier.

“w-well, it doesn’t really matter. it’s not important anymore. let’s do some training! how’s olga? i like your hair today! your mamí invited me for dinner tomorrow what should i wear?”

your pathetic attemps of changing the subject make the corners of alexia mouth quirk up a little, but she’s not letting this go so easily.

“nena…” she says in a warning tone, and you deflate.

pouting, you murmur something.

“what? i didn’t catch that.”

you mumble again, only a little louder this time and alexia catches the last few words, “-didn’t do it properly.”

“didn’t do what properly? c’mon, pequeña, speak up. you’re usually much louder than this.”

she’s teasing you, you realise, and you huff.

“we had to write an essay for father’s day about our dads…and…i didn’t do it properly.”

alexia laughs a little, but she’s still curious. “what did you do?”

“i wrote about someone else…” alexia raises an eyebrow, encouraging you to continue. “…you. i wrote about you. there i said it. can i go now?”

her hand reaches out and catches the back of your shirt as you try to race away, and she spins you around with both hands on your shoulders to look st you.

“you wrote about me?”

“it’s stupid i know. i apologised to my teacher and she made me rewrite the whole thing. i won’t do it again, i swear. i’ll run laps if you want me to, i just have to get my other shoe.” you try your best to wiggle away, but alexia’s hold on you is firm.

“you wrote about me?” she repeats, looking down at you.

“yes, i’m sorry.”

“i’m not..” she shakes her head slightly, “i’m not mad at you pequeña. it’s nice. you really wrote it about me?”

you nod, “well, yeah. you’re more of a parent than my dad ever was and i just thought that you were more deserving of an essay than him. you’re the one who teaches me things, and keeps me safe, and makes sure i do my homework. you’re the one i wanted to write about, not him.”

“can i read it?” alexia’s voice sounds a little choked up, and you’re confused when you notice the little tears in her eyes.

you shake your head, “it’s gone. my teacher ripped it up.”

“she ripped up your work?” you nod, and suddenly her watery eyes were filled with anger, “oh no, no, that is not okay, nena. i’ll go to your school on monday and when i get my hands on her-“

“so i’m not in trouble anymore?”

she stops her rant to look at you, in the soft way she always does. her hands on your shoulders pull you into her embrace and she hugs you tightly. “of course not, pequeña. i’m sorry for scaring you.”

“it’s okay…can i ask one thing though?”

“whatever you want.”

“can you piggyback me back to the locker room? i need my other shoe.”

she laughs, hugging you tighter. “of course.” she finally releases you and turns around, “hop on, lazy.”

“thank you, ale. i’m sorry again for getting detention.” you pat her head softly as she begins the walk back to the locker room.

“it’s okay, nena. just try not to do it again, okay?”

“okay.” you breathe out in relief, glad that you’re not in trouble anymore.

you make it back to locker room in no time at all, and you ignore mapi’s loud groan as she slaps some money into lucy’s hand.

“told you she’d manage to wiggle her way out of trouble. she always does.” the english woman laughs.

“i thought she’d be dead meat.” mapi huffs. “i was hoping for it, actually.”

“what was that maría?” alexia asks loudly, a stern look on her face (which is quite hard to take seriously considering you’re still on her back, poking your tongue out at mapi).

“nothing, capi-“

“you can run 3 laps for that.” alexia points at mapi as she groans again.

“mapi has to run laps? best piggyback ever! 10/10!”

—

idk what this is and i’m aware it’s been ages since i posted but i am alive!!

[bonm4ti]

as an irish lad i cant even be upset when we loose xx

Sweden, England, France and the Republic of Ireland…oh Ireland babes I’m so sorry for ur loss

not an easy group for England either 🫣

[bonm4ti]

she looks so lost😭

[bonm4ti]

the reporter gotta be the strongest soldier on earth because my legs would have given out beneath me if Alexia looked at me like that

[bonm4ti]

im your only friend.🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

name/nickname: amy

where are you from?: Éire

age: almost a pensioner tbh

are you a student?: yes

favourite song: graceland too by phoebe bridgers, ANYTHING by boygenius, pretty girls by reneè rapp

fun fact about you: i chiseled my finger in woodwork

who are you obsessing over lately?: alexia putellas, lucy bronze, mapi leon, lia wälti,leah williamson, katie mccabe tbh any woman im not picky

what are your interests?: editing(newly), baking, music, gaming!!

tagging: @heyjerie13 @yumcoldbrew @mpileons guys idk sorry 😣😣

alright, i’ve been meaning to do this for a while now. i really want to get to know my moots better, so i’m starting a chain of get-to-know you posts! you can add on whatever category you’d like! i just want to know a little more about the people behind the screens lol. (i was kinda scared to post this — btw it’s totally fine if you are uncomfortable doing this)

here’s the lil template -

name/nickname:

where are you from:

age:(if you want to disclose)

are you a student?

favourite song:

fun fact about you:

who are you obsessing over lately:

what are your interests?

name/nickname: north

where are you from: south east asia!!!

age: 18

are you a student? — yess! i’m studying chemical engineering :)

favourite song: cigarette by alfie jukes

fun fact about you: i do competitive archery!

who are you obsessing over lately: elisa de almeida and alexia putellas🫣

what are your interests? — i LOVE painting and baking when i’m free and not writing lols

tagging: @moonystoes @yunjinloser @citysweet @oceangalore @baeksqt @mpileons @bellawoso @lessi-lover & @/anyone else who wants to join!!

[bonm4ti]

mccabe spat on the pitch today. i fear i may have gotten the ick. 😣😣

AND AND i may be biased cuz im irish, but half of these italian lads r getting free kicks for absolutely no reason??

[bonm4ti]

flowers because im a delight to be friends with 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ (thanks)

tagging: @yumcoldbrew @cevansbaby-dove @london-affairs @mentallywithnat

Go to Pinterest and search ‘celebrity’, ‘outfit’, ‘quote’ & ‘aesthetic’ and the first result of each is your vibe.

Tags: @navybrat817 @slothspaghettiwrites @sparkledfirecracker @littlelioncub43 @wakingbeauty @buckysburdens @succnfuccubus @perdidosbucky-yyo @jobean12-blog @foxgloveprincess @yenzys-lucky-charm @purple-babygirl & anyone else who wants to play.

[bonm4ti]

i need to be institutionalised.

[bonm4ti]

youre camera roll if you were dating gracie abrams <3

🏷️ - @yumcoldbrew

[bonm4ti]

‘intruding’ — arsenal wfc

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

‘nosy’ part 2

long as hell (5k) and barely any real plot😃

—

it was raining lightly when you first stepped out onto the pitch, and katie’s usual firm hand on your shoulder served as a reminder to be careful.

you shrug it off easily, taking your position.

the whistle blows, game on.

it took you 17 seconds to have possession of the ball and 18 for you to be laying on the ground. luckily, you'd managed to pass it to vic as you went down, but she unfortunately lost possession not long after.

you ignore the multiple hands offering you help and stand up yourself, waving at the fans as they cheered. you were a bit embarrassed, as you were sure that was the fastest tackle ever.

you notice the girl who knocked you over smiling smugly, and you know you're in for an absolute treat this game.

—

not even 20 minutes into the match it was clear that you were being targeted. you had been marked by multiple people at all times, and 2 players had already been awarded yellow cards for fouling you. you'd given your 2 free kicks to kim, hoping it would remove the target off you back (spoiler: it didn't).

katie had earned herself a yellow after you'd gone down for the 7th time, this time with you struggling to stand up on your throbbing ankle. she pushed the defender that had dirty tackled you until caitlin had to drag her away, the referee already showing a yellow card in her direction.

still, you'd managed to score a goal in the 21st minute, immediately tasting dirt right after your foot chipped the ball into the top left corner.

you groaned, feeling frustrated. you could hear leah's shouts from across the pitch, telling the ref that you were clearly being targeted and it wasn't fair.

viv's hand appears before you, and you gladly let her pull you up to your feet.

"i'm sick of this." you mumble into her chest as she brings you into a quick embrace.

"you're doing the best with what you've got, schatje." she squeezes your shoulders gently before releasing you.

you still feel like there's something more you could do.

—

during half-time, almost every team member had checked you over for a serious injury and cleared you to continue (like the true medical professionals they were). kim was hesitant, though, and you knew from the way leah was watching from afar that she had put the captain up to this. you discreetly flip her off behind kim's back.

the scottish woman sighs, running a hand down her face in frustration. "you stay the hell away from all the defenders, even if it means staying away from the ball. if you go down hard again, i don't care if i have to drag you kicking and screaming off the pitch myself, you're being subbed off."

you smile cheekily. "didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, kimster.”

her hand smacks the back of your head and you a yelp out a ‘that's child abuse!’ but she doesn’t seem to care.

"i’m serious, kid.” she glares, looking like she was about to say more but your reprieve comes in the form of katie, who drags you to the corner of the changing room, tugging you close.

"why do you let them do that to ya?" she asks quietly, looking concerned as her eyes bore into yours.

you scoff, still feeling angry from the beatings you'd taken on the pitch so far. "oh, yeah because i let them do it." you throw your arms up in frustration, narrowly missing katie's chin, "i begged for it, actually! can you not see the target on my back or does it blend into my jersey too much?"

katie frowns, grabbing your shoulder and tugging your body closer as she leans down so nobody could hear what she was about to say.

"listen, kid, if someone fouls you again, i want you to grab 'em like this." she grabs the bottom of your jersey pointedly. "and do this." she promptly tugs it over your head, leaving you with your stomach showing and your face covered with the red shirt. "and then punch them in the nose or-"

"oi!" leah's voice shouts from across the room, and you quickly pull your jersey back down. "leave the baby alone, she's having a rough go of it as it is." she points sternly at katie, before turning back to kim and their conversation (which you would bet your life savings was about you).

katie smiles, looking at you happily. "consider it." with that, she pats your shoulder softly before walking away.

—

you decide to ignore the advice of katie mccard, deciding to be the bigger person and continue getting up from the ground without a fuss.

that's until your ankles are taken out from under you again, the heavy body of the opposing team's midfielder landing on you with no remorse.

she mumbles a half-assed apology, smug smirk on her face as she stands up.

she starts walking away, leaving you on the ground, when suddenly you're on your feet and your hand is pulling her shoulder back with a loud 'oi!' (you'd been spending too much time with leah, clearly).

the girl looks down at you with a mocking smile, opening her mouth to say something (presumably) condescending when suddenly her jersery was in her face and her legs had been swept out from under her.

—

you accepted the yellow card - the first one in your short career - with nothing more than a 'what can you do' shrug and little smile.

you can feel the questioning eyes of your teammates, but you ignore them, focusing too much on not limping.

your ankle was really starting to hurt now, and if you knew better you'd sub off, like kim said.

you don't.

the game continues, with katie's voice teasing you for getting a yellow every time she passes you, and you manage to score another goal and get knocked over a few more times before it finally happens.

you were dirty tackled, again, the opposing team's striker landing on your ankle with a sickening crunch.

this being probably the 50th time you'd been forced down to the ground, your teammates continue on with the game, knowing you'd be back on your feet in no time.

but this time you didn't, and they knew something was wrong.

you were sat up, holding your ankle with a pained expression on your face and a whimper dying down in the back of your throat.

steph was the first one by your side before the whistle had even blown, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at her instead of your weirdly shaped ankle. she gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with her thumbs as some of the team run over followed closely by the medics.

"y/n!" leah crouches down beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "fuckin' hell, kid." she whispers, looking at your ankle, which was now being carefully examined by a medic as he talks quietly to steph and lotte, who were both holding your hands gently.

you whimper, both at leah's words and the cold touch of the medic's hand on your swollen ankle.

"it's okay, pea." leah tucks your head into her shoulder protectively, kissing your temple. "you're gonna be okay."

"it hurts, le." you choke, and she swallows the lump at the back of her throat at the pain in your voice.

"i know, sweetheart." she whispers, her lips on your hairline. "but they're gonna make it all better, okay? don't think about it, just focus on something else."

you force your mind away from the crowd around you, and you strain your ears to hear anything but your own heartbeat. you can faintly hear an angry irish accent and a quieter scottish one as katie and kim argue with the ref - katie demanding she give the other player a red otherwise she was 'fucking blind and should be fired.'

you'd laugh if you weren't holding in a sob. you bury your head further into leah as the medic talks, focusing on her steady heartbeat instead of your own erratic one.

"it's definitely broken, we're gonna have to take her to the hospital."

"the game's not over yet." you pick your head up to look at the medic, your eyes teary. "i have to stay 'til the end."

he looks at you incredulously, but leah beats him to the punch.

"no. you're gonna get your arse into the ambulance and you're gonna get an x-ray and whatever else, and then you're gonna wait in a stupid hospital bed until we get there. that's an order."

you groan, tucking your head back underneath her chin. "buzzkill."

the rest of the team quickly join you, all asking if you're okay and complaining about how unfair the whole game had been.

"we're still up 4-3." you smile weakly at them. "win for me, yeah?"

lessi's hand comes down to pat your shoulder softly, "hell yeah we will."

"alright," leah says, standing up and offering you her hand, "let's get you up."

"unless you want a stretcher?" the medic asks, looking entirely unsure about you walking off the pitch. "you're going to want a stretcher or something, i highly recommend being carried-"

you ignore him, pointedly accepting leah's hand to pull you up and sparing him a glance when you stand easily.

you had both your sides immediately flanked, and you made sure not to put any weight on your right foot as you make your way off the pitch to the crowd's cheers and claps.

"alright, now go win." you shoo the team away as you reach the tunnel.

—

you'd been put in ambulance soon after, immediately doped up on morphine. hospital x-rays confirmed that your ankle was, in fact, broken, and you were immediately carted off to the theatre to have surgery. you'd tried to fight to doctors and nurses off, mumbling about how you had to wait for the game to be over, before the mask was placed over your face and you were promptly knocked out.

—

when you wake up from surgery, the doctor is there and tells you everything you need to know about recovery and asks about your parents, but you're still pretty doped up and you fall back to sleep quickly (definitely just because you were tired, not so you could avoid the topic about your family again).

you wake up the second time feeling a heavy weight on your right foot and both your hands.

you tiredly blink your eyes open to see the entire team scattered around your room, quietly talking amongst themselves and watching the tv opposite your bed.

leah was on your left, holding your hand as she talks across the bed to alessia, who was holding your right hand. katie was in a chair beside lessi, leaning her head on her hand as her elbow was beside your legs on the bed.

you groan at the bright lights, causing everyone to turn to you simultaneously to see your eyes open.

"did we win?" are the first words out of your mouth as you adjust to the light.

"aye, cough it up." jen grins, turning to steph smugly. the australian grumbles, pulling out a £20 note from her pocket and slapping it into the woman's waiting hand.

"you bet on when she'd wake up?" leah asks incredulously.

"no, we bet on what she'd say first." jen shrugs.

"i had £20 on asking who died." steph pouts.

"i better get half of that." you say groggily, nodding towards the money that jen holds up happily.

"you can have it all, kid. i'm just glad you're okay."

everyone agrees quietly, and you spend the next half an hour talking to everyone and laughing as they congratulate you on your first proper injury on the team and first ever yellow card.

"she's my little prodigy now." katie grins, pinching your cheeks proudly. "we're aiming for a red card next match, aren't we, mini me?"

"you bet." you smile softly. then you remember something, "has someone called my parents? they don't watch my games and they'd be pretty mad if i turned up with a broken ankle out of nowhere..."

"i called them after the match," leah says quietly, frowning at the thought of your parents and the memory of the way they dismissed your injury easily over the phone. "they had to give their permission for your surgery but they aren't coming. i'm sorry, kid."

you nod, knowing you'd have a lot of angry missed calls when you turned your phone back on.

" 's okay. thanks anyway, le." your voice is quiet, and the team all share a look.

it had been a few months since you opened up about your family, and they had all become more protective over you and had extended many offers of sleepovers so you wouldn't have to see them as much. you were pretty much no contact with them at this point (not that they seemed to notice) and you'd been doing okay with it all, but now in your vulnerable state you looked defeated at the thought of them not caring about you.

"when are you gonna be cleared to play, kiddo?" beth asks from her space on the sofa near the door.

"dunno, but recovery time is 6-12 weeks, so i say like 3 months give or take." you shrug, focusing your mind on something other than your shitty parents.

"and when can you start walking?" viv asks, looking sympathetic.

"whenever, but i'll have a cast and crutches for 8 weeks." you say, pouting.

"hey, no pouting." leah pokes your lips teasingly, "you get to stay with me while you're recovering."

they'd had a long debate about who you should stay with, knowing for certain that they didn't want you in your parents' house for your recovery. both katie and steph were adamant that you come home with one of them, but neither of them had an extra bedroom. beth, viv, kim, and lia had all campaigned for custody of you too, but were eventually overruled in favour of leah. leah had a spare room and was practically crying while trying to explain to them that you were like her sister and you had to stay with her. nobody had the heart to say no.

the blonde smiles at you, waiting for you to be happy about that news, but instead you groan.

"oi! what's wrong with living with me? i'm a delight!" she pokes your cheek.

"i can't live off ham sandwiches and chicken nuggets for 12 weeks!" you whine, turning your pout towards alessia. "lessi, tell her 'm not staying with her."

alessia laughs, poking your other cheek. "sorry, pipsqueak, she's already decided."

"well she's not the boss! kimmy," you turn to the captain with your pout. "tell her!"

kim laughs, shaking her head. "vice captain's orders."

you whine again, crossing your arms. " 's so not fair."

"i'll pretend not to be offended by this." leah's voice comes from beside you, but you don't look at her. "c'mon, kid! we'll have so much fun!"

"will you feed me real food?" you ask quietly, turning to her.

"sandwiches are real food!"

"i'm gonna waste away; i am not eating unseasoned food for 3 months." you whine.

"you live in spain for 2 years and suddenly you're too good for a ham sandwich." leah rolls her eyes, arms still crossed.

"i've always been too good for ham sandwiches. even in primary school i got fed better than that." you whine. "you eat like a prisoner of war, i can't stand it."

"well, you've plenty of time to get used to it."

you groan again.

—

about an hour later, you're being discharged. everyone had slowly started dropping off and saying their goodbyes, wishing you a speedy recovery and promising to drop in every day to see you. kim made you promise to focus on recovery and nothing else, but kyra slipped you a £10 note with the condition that you annoy leah as much as possible so that was your main priority if anything. beth and viv had lingered the longest, not wanting to leave when you were clearly in your head about the injury, but eventually they had to go too.

so then it was just you and leah, ready to go home.

you're wheeled to her car by a nurse, and leah helps you transfer from the chair into the passenger seat, leaning over to buckle you in. your crutches were already laid out in the backseat, along with your kitbag and cleats.

"i can do it myself, you know." you mumble, feeling embarrassed as the nurse watches leah baby you.

"don't care." leah shrugs, patting your head and closing the door. she talks to the nurse for a moment, accepting a pamphlet about your recovery, before waving goodbye to her and finally climbing into the driver's seat. "we're gonna go to yours to get your stuff and then straight to mine, okay?" she says, not really asking, as she starts the car.

"okay, bossy boots." you mutter, looking out the passenger window.

"well you're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you?" leah teases, pulling out of the car park.

"my ankle's in a fucking boot, leah." you grumble. "what do you expect?"

"oi." she warns, looking over at you sternly. "less of the language, yeah? you’re a kid, you shouldn’t be talking like that.”

you sigh, looking out at the window as leah makes the short drive to your parents house. she turns on the radio and hums along, glancing at your frowning face every now and then.

"alright, wait here." she says when she parks, rushing out of her seat and walking around to your side.

leah opens the back door first, grabbing your crutches. then she opens the passenger and helps you out of your seat and into a standing position with the crutches.

"you good?"

you nod, slowly making your way to your front door, leah beside you. she unlocks the door with your key and opens it for you.

your parents aren't home and you don't dwell on how much that actually hurts as leah guides you up the stairs slowly, making a big fuss every time you wince.

there's not much in your bedroom seeing as you're rarely ever there, and leah tasks you with choosing clothes as she collects other bits and bobs around the house that you would need like your charger, your teddy bear, random snacks you’ve hidden, your laptop, etc.

it's a relatively quick and easy process because leah says she can always bring you back if you forget something so you're not too stressed about what to bring. your suitcase is packed quickly and placed in the boot of leah's car.

you're (once again) buckled in by leah and she begins the drive to her's.

"leah, have i ever told you how much i love and appreciate you?”

"we're not stopping at mcdonald's."

"bullshit!"

"less of the language, yeah? or i'll ground you again."

"you're evil. satan's right-hand man." you grumble, pouting out the window.

leah doesn't care, simply turning up the radio and singing obnoxiously in your ear as you pretend to hate the song.

—

the second you got to her’s, leah insisted on treating you like you were dying, immediately banishing you to the spare bed as if you'd broken your back, not your ankle.

"leah, i said i'm fine!" you groaned loudly, smacking away the woman's hands as she attempted to tuck you in further. "kyra was right, you do smother me." you grumble, wrestling with the blankets as you sit up.

"you need to rest, pea! please." the blonde sent you a firm look as you huffed but allowed her to continue. "stop the pouting."

“why are you doing this?" you whine, throwing yourself back into the pillows.

"because, kiddo, i care about you." the blonde smiled, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, smoothing your hair out of your face before fluffing the cushion underneath your ankle for the 8th time.

"well can you care less? please? for the sake of my sanity?"

"nope. you're the baby, just accept it."

"i'm 16!"

"practically a newborn." she teases, "now, wait here while i nip to the shop for some snacks for us, alright?”

"not like i can move anywhere with how tight you've tucked me in." you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly.

leah simply grins and walks out, and you reach over to your phone (after a brief fight with the blanket) and you cheer when you finally get it.

you turn it on and immediately regret it when you see all the notifications. there were lots from social media, the videos of your injury having been up for hours now. there were plenty of missed calls from your parents, the barcelona girls, and some of your school friends. you ignore the messages, too, and immediately call alexia.

alexia putellas had become somewhat of a mother figure to you when you were 13 - when your dad's job had uprooted your life and you had moved to barcelona. you were sad to leave the arsenal academy, but barcelona’s youth team had accepted you easily and you often trained with the senior team too. they had taken you under their wing lovingly and even now, after almost a year since your move back to london, alexia remained a constant figure in your life, unknowingly competing with leah as the most over-protective.

alexia picks up after the first ring, and you have half a mind to tell her to get a life.

"pequeña, are you okay? how bad is it? twitter said a broken ankle but it looked like you hit your head pretty hard too. i can buy a ticket a be there by tomorrow night if-“

"ale?" you interrupt quietly.

"sí? what?"

"i'm okay." she breathes a loud sigh of relief down the phone, and you feel yourself missing her plenty. visiting every summer for a week didn't feel like enough with how much you missed spain and the people you left there. "you don't need to come; leah's got me locked up like rapunzel and she's practically become my around-the-clock nurse."

"so you are okay?"

"i'm okay."

"...you're sure?" she double checks, and you briefly wonder how long this is going to take.

"100%"

"because if you're not-"

"i am. i swear, i'd tell you if i wasn't."

"...okay." she relents, "but you are still coming to visit this summer, aren't you? because mapi missed you last time and she'd kill us both if you didn't come."

"yeah, i should be okay by then."

"good.” it’s quiet for a moment before she seems to remember something. “now, rest. you must sleep and stay in bed! no walking around, no moving your ankle, no-“

"aye aye, captain.” you hang up with a smile, and toss your phone down the bed.

you watch as it lights up over and over again, presumably with texts scolding you for the abrupt hang up and lectures on manners and phone call etiquette.

—

leah comes back from the shop not even 5 minutes later with her arms full of snacks that would send your nutritionist into an early grave, and you suppress a smug smile when she lets you pick a movie, knowing usually at team bonding nights you were forbidden control over the remote after the tusk incident (it seemed not everybody appreciated your idea of a ‘funny movie’ and you were strictly banned from giving your film input from that day on).

leah’s careful when she lays in the double bed beside you, but that doesn’t stop her from shoving your shoulder or slapping her hand over your mouth every time you say something insulting about either her or a character on screen (you couldn’t wait to tell kyra all about it, knowing your mission was going smoothly).

it’s only after she replaces the ice-pack on your cast for the 3rd time and gives you a painkiller when it’s an appropriate time for one do you look at her softly.

"hey, le?" your murmur, watching as she reads the post-op instructions for the 6th time in the last 10 minutes because ‘i dont want to be the one responsible for putting baby arsenal out of commission.'

“yeah?" she hums absentmindedly, flipping the leaflet over.

“thank you."

she looks up, placing the back of her hand against your forehead.

“are you sick? did i give you the right dosage? have you-“

“oh, shove off, williamson! i’m trying to be grateful here!”

she rolls her eyes, but pulls her hand back anyway and looks at you expectantly.

“as i was saying, thank you, leah, for letting me stay here.”

“you don't have to thank me, kid-"

“i do.” you interrupt with a glare that leah had seen many times on her own face. “you don't have to do all this for me, but you do anyway. and i know i'm not good at being honest about my feelings but...i appreciate you and even though you’re literally the worst person ever, and you’re very annoying, and you treat me like i’m 10…i really do love you.”

"oh, pea, you're gonna make me cry!" she’s suddenly pulling you into a hug, and you roll eyes at her dramatics as you pretend not to melt into her sisterly embrace.

“okay, shut up now, and don’t tell anyone about this. i have a reputation to uphold, remember?”

“i’m telling everyone!” you groan loudly, trying to shove her away but she doesn’t let go. “i can’t believe it! you, the epitome of teenage angst, admitting that you love me and even saying i’m your favourite!”

“oi, now you’re just putting words in my mouth!”

this was going to be a long recovery…

(not that you minded).

—

5 weeks later

“oh, come on," leah laughs, an arm over your shoulder as you practically stomp (as best as you can with your injured ankle) through the car park, "are you really being this moody so early in the morning?"

“maybe if you didn't wake me up at the crack arse of dawn to come to training with you even though i'm not needed for physio until 12, i'd be happier!" you glare.

“c’mon, kid, you can’t hate me - i took you to golf yesterday! wasn’t that fun?” she pokes your cheek teasingly.

“it would’ve been if you let me stand for more than 5 minutes at a time!” you roll your eyes and knock your shoulder against hers as you slipped into the locker room.

thankfully, you had a respite from her, sandwiched between lessi and the wall as you sit on the bench with a huff.

"how goes the recovery, kiddo?" alessia asks softly, lacing up her boots.

"long.” you sigh. “physio takes forever and jonas is constantly on my ass about getting proper rest.” you glance over at leah as she enters as goes to her cubby. “and leah’s being a pain."

"nothing new, then." lessi snorts, and you laugh, agreeing.

"oi!" leah's offended tone carries through the room. "i'm so kindly housing you-"

"against my will!"

"-and i still get treated like a second class citizen!"

" 'cause that's what you are." you poke your tongue out at her, causing lessi to high five you happily.

"should've left you at home." leah grumbles, lacing her cleats quickly.

"yeah, you should've.” you huff, crossing your arms.

“hey, speaking of…” steph cuts in, sliding onto the bench beside you as alessia gets up. “have your parents said anything about wanting you to come back yet?”

“i doubt they’ve even noticed i left.” you scoff, “and besides, leah’s practically holding me hostage. said i’m not allowed to leave.”

“oh, i bet you’re loving that.” she snickers, throwing her arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“please save me, steph. there’s only so many potato smileys i can handle.” you groan, burying yourself further into her. “viv and beth keep dropping off homemade meals because they feel bad for me, but it’s not enough. i need to be free.” you whine dramatically, causing leah to glance over with an offended look on her face.

“are you shit talking my cooking again?!” she points an accusatory finger at you.

“no?” you smile innocently, using steph as a partial shield from the blonde’s glare.

“you’re such a little shit!” leah groans, “and i can’t even beat you up because you’re hurt.” she rolls her eyes.

“how devastating.” you grin, allowing steph to pull you up gently so you can watch from the sidelines as they train. “hey, steffy, can you-“

“yes, i’ll make sure to trip her up.” steph assures you with a smile as she guides you towards the pitch.

“and can-“

“yes, i’ll get kyra to be extra annoying.”

“and-“

“and caitlin’s already promised to be as aggressive as possible to her.”

“you aussies are always so good to me.” you grin, “bullying leah for me when i’m incapacitated…i appreciate you guys.” you pat her shoulder gently.

“only because you bribed us.” you raise an eyebrow at her words. “…and because we love you.”

“and don’t you forget it.”

—

when you were finally cleared to be back on the pitch, beth and viv insisted on hosting a small get-together with the team at their place.

it starts off easily with a chinese takeout and everyone (except you) is drinking quite a bit before most of them are tipsy enough to suggest playing just dance.

you simply sit back and observe, sipping the orange juice katie had given you with a wink that suggested it was more than that, until kyra is dragging you into being her dance partner for rasputin.

"kyra, have you ever considered the fact that you have no rhythm whatsoever?"

“whoa, when did the baby get so mean?" she places a hand over her heart in faux-offence, looking around for someone to agree.

"about two drinks ago." you shove her lightly, making her stumble into laura.

“wait a minute, you've been drinking?" leah's accusatory voice comes from behind you, and she picks up your almost-empty cup and sniffs it. "katie!" she whirls to the irishwoman. "you spiked the baby!"

"did not!”

"oh, yeah? you're the one who gave her the juice!"

"you're the one who poured it!"

"from the carton! you spiked it before you gave it to her!"

"proof?"

"look at her!" she points in the direction where you and kyra are giggling while attempting to dance, tripping over your own feet and falling into each other.

"looks fine to me." katie shrugs nonchalantly, sipping her drink.

—

1 month back on pitch

beth stands over you as you sit on the grass before her and viv, eyeing your boots. "i told leah to get you new boots 2 weeks ago! these ones are practically falling apart — i can see your toes!”

you (for once) try to defend leah, "we've been busy!"

"doing what? oh, yeah, golf." she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"i'll have you know i'm a natural at golf!" you puff out your chest happily.

viv snorts, "oh yeah, says who?”

"leah.”

"very credible." she teases.

"you're mean today." you grumble. "wake up on the wrong side of the bed, miedema?"

"at least i've got my own bed to wake up in, aren't you still living at leah's?"

"i'm being held captive, viv. you're supposed to save me, not make fun of me!”

leah appears out of nowhere, pulling you to your feet. “stop trying to steal the kid from me.” she throws a glare towards the couple.

“it’s not stealing if she’s begging to be set free.” viv points out wisely.

“you what?” leah looks down at you with a frown. “kid, i thought we were bonding!”

“we are! i just miss proper meals.”

“wally brings you dinner every saturday!" she reminds you, and then begins listing all your other weekly meals to prove her point. "and kim cooks for us every wednesday, stina takes you out for lunch almost every monday, lessi brings pizza every other tuesday… you get proper meals!”

you sigh, knowing that was true. “well-“

“well nothing! you’re stuck with me forever and if i find out you’re passing sos messages to jonas again, i’ll kill you myself!”

“oh, because that makes me want to stay!”

leah rolls her eyes, “well, what will?”

you glance over at viv and beth, who are watching with amused smiles, before turning back to leah with your proposition.

“…can we get a puppy?”

“you’re joki - actually yeah i want a puppy too.”

"fuck yes!"

"language! that's £1 in the swear jar!"

—

this is already too long, we’re ending it here😭

[bonm4ti]

‘easy’ — alexia putellas x reader

alexia putellas x fem!reader

past!leah williamson x fem!reader

a bit angsty for poor leah

—

she hates how easy you make it look.

moving on.

how could you be so fine? so unphased? so happy? how could you be moving on so fast when she hadn't stopped thinking about you for a single second since that day?

every day since that day was hell on earth for leah williamson.

waking up was a chore, getting out of bed was a workout, leaving the house was torture, and going to the training grounds was all those things at once because you weren't there.

she supposed it's her fault, though. that you're not there anymore.

she broke your heart.

//

it wasn't supposed to end like this.

it wasn’t supposed to end at all.

she hates the way the final words left her mouth easily, even though she'd never been a good liar in her entire life.

she hates the way they leave a bitter taste in her mouth, knowing they were anything but sweet.

she hates the way she can see your heart break as she tells you she doesn't love you. the way your face falls and your eyes fill with tears.

it almost makes her take it all back.

almost.

but she knows she can't.

she loves you more than the moon loves the sun, more than the bees love the flowers, more than orpheus loves eurydice. she loves you so much that it scares the hell out of her.

which is why she had to stop it.

she had to end it before she got used to the feeling of your hips beneath her hands, before she starting craving your gentle kisses, before she began to fall deeper in love with you. before it was too late.

so she lies.

she tells you it was all a bit of fun, she says you that you mean nothing to her, she tells you she doesn't love you.

and you listen.

you listen to the words of someone you would've died before hurting. you listen to the unshaken voice of someone who doesn't love you. you listen to the metaphorical nail in the coffin of your relationship with leah williamson.

and then you leave.

you turn on your heel and you’re out of the door before she can break your heart even further, feeling the weight of your unreciprocated love crush your chest as you flee down the front steps and away from her house for the last time.

your contract doesn't get renewed that summer, your flat gets put up for sale, and before you know it you're on a plane to barcelona.

you knew the announcement was coming that day. you'd already turned off your phone and settled for your laptop, watching some trashy rom-com that has you hoping that leah is at an airport trying to get to you.

you know better, though. she won't come.

she doesn't love you.

except she does.

she loves you so much that there's not much else to do but cry into her mother's arms as she reads the social media posts announcing your departure from arsenal and your new 4 year contract with barcelona.

she loves you so much that she settles for a simple 'happy for you, gooner' even though she doesn't mean it in the slightest.

//

now, almost a year later (281 days, but who's counting?) leah watches the tv as you accept the well-deserved ballon d'or.

alexia was in the crowd beside you, immediately hugging you tight and kissing your head as your name is called, and leah feels the familiar green monster bubbling in her stomach.

she doesn't have the right to feel jealous, not anymore, but it's what she had been feeling almost everyday since your move to barça. her days without you consisted of obsessively checking the entire team's social media for glimpses of you. she finds them, and it's to her dismay that a certain spanish captain happened to always be beside you.

a goal celebration? alexia's hands are under your thighs as you jump into her arms. a post-match interview? alexia has an arm thrown over your shoulder as she leans down to whisper jokes in your ear. team movie nights documented by various instagram stories? alexia's shoulder is your pillow. a party in a random bar shown through various accounts? alexia's hands are on your waist and your back is pressed to her front. it's raining before a match? alexia's jacket is zipped over your body. your boots become untied at half-time? alexia is on one knee in-front you fixing them.

every photo, every video, every interaction with the barça team consists of alexia touching you somehow.

but it's your reactions that hurt leah the most.

the way you throw your arms around alexia easily when either one of you score. the way you giggle happily when she whispers in your ear. the way you relax into her shoulder like it was made for you. the way you lean back into her in a bar like second nature. the way you snuggle into the warmth of alexia's jacket with cheeks red from more than just the cold. the way you gently fix her hair for her while she ties your shoes, your hands in her hair while hers are on your boots.

and worst of all, it's the eyes.

leah remembers the days your eyes shined when you looked at her. she dreams of the times when they would crinkle as she made a joke. she cries when she remembers the way your eyes would follow her wherever she went. her heart breaks when she remembers the love and adoration you once looked at her with, and how now that look is reserved for someone else.

you love alexia, and leah loves you.

it was so easy loving you, why had she run away from it? leah loves you the same way she breathes - unintentionally, unconditionally, and necessary for survival.

because why would she wake up each morning if not for the false hope of you being beside her? why would she leave her bed without the dreamed sounds of you making breakfast in the kitchen? why would she leave the house if not for the far-away thought that you're waiting in the car? why would she go to training if not for the off-chance that you're there?

you consume her life even from an entirely different country.

it's so easy loving you.

alexia would know.

loving you is like falling asleep. it's inevitable in the way that it will always happen, no matter how much alexia tries to resist. it's comforting in the way that it's routine, and she knows she'll wake up tomorrow and love you all the same. it's soft in the way that she uses it to escape, because why care about anything else when she has you?

the blanket of love alexia has wrapped you in is warm, not suffocating. and like a child who protests bed time, you initially shy away from it before eventually relaxing into its comfort and allowing it to consume you, trusting that it will still be there when the sun rises.

because alexia is always there.

//

you're not supposed to fall in love with your captain.

you're not supposed to fall in love with anybody.

not when it's leah you still want. when leah's face is the last you want to see before you fall asleep. when her name is the only one that makes your heart race so fast that you're scared it will take off. when her voice surrounds you even when you're miles away and nobody's talking.

slowly but surely, you begin to heal.

you don't forget, and you certainly don't stop loving leah, but you forgive.

you forgive her for breaking your heart because you know alexia is hell-bent on meticulously gluing it back together with gentle hands. it won't look the same, might not even beat the same, but your heart will love nonetheless.

and it will definitely race for the captain who had seamlessly fitted herself into your life like she had always been there.

when had you started reaching your hand out for her own before a match? when had your eyes began automatically searching for hers in a crowded room? when did your body become so accustomed to her touch that you find yourself craving it when she's not there?

you're not sure, but you're grateful nonetheless.

you think that maybe it's okay to fall in love again, maybe you deserve happiness after so much pain. and maybe it's okay to fall in love with alexia, someone who is willing to do anything to prove you deserve to love and to be loved back.

you think that maybe while she was fixing your heart, she wiggled her way into it and sealed it behind her.

you don't think about the fact that you love her, and you don't even say it when you first realise. you simply bury your head further into her chest and fall asleep as her hand strokes mindless patterns on your back.

and when you wake up the next morning, you don't have to utter the three words and neither does she.

because you know.

because there's a plate of breakfast waiting for you on the table, beside the drink that she knows you like so much. you don't have to announce it to the team, because you pass her a bottle of water before she even knows she needs it, and she gives half to you when you look particularly exhausted. you don't have to announce it to the world, because her hand linked in yours pulls you through the streets of barcelona and you tell her your best jokes as she gives you a tour.

your love shines through your actions, through the sweet gestures and loving stares, through the framed pictures and soft embraces.

and when you do finally say the words, it's as if you had been saying them your entire life. they fall from your lips easily, and she kisses you before you can say anything else. she echoes the words against your mouth so softly that you don't know if you said it again or if it was her.

either way, you know she feels the same.

and you know you'll say it a million times more, never getting sick of saying the truth.

you love her.

//

loving alexia is easy.

—

anyway

idk what this is and it’s definitely not my usual song and dance so let me know what you think :)

[bonm4ti]

your camera roll if you were dating scarlett johansson!! 🤞😇

[bonm4ti]

OI WHERE IS MY GRACIE ABRAMS REQUEST?!?! (don’t bring up the fact i haven’t did urs either bc ive at least started it)

wheres my carol danvers request?? gracie abrams is in the drafts. ready for an exchange.

[bonm4ti]

we wouldve been winning if she was here..😢

JEN BEATTIE COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU😖😭💔