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mytherapyisreading14 · 2 days ago

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Profiling the Obvious

Summary: Kevin’s unexpected “man-to-man” talk with Rossi sets off more than just gossip — it gives the team exactly what they need to start teasing you and Spencer. A quiet moment turns into something more, and in a bullpen full of profilers, keeping feelings a secret? Not a chance.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None, this is just pure Fluff!! <3

Word Count: 3,8k

Author‘s Note: I got the idea when I rewatched S3 E14 (the whole Rossi caught Kevin and Penelope drama when he wanted more information about that one case that happened 20 years ago). I hope y‘all like it!! :)

“Pretty Boy, how was Connecticut?” Morgan asks as he drops his go bag on the floor. “Ultimately uneventful,” Spencer says before he turns around to Rossi. “Sir, there’s somebody waiting to speak to you in your office,” he continues and points to Rossis office. Kevin is there, sitting on a chair, standing up when he sees that the team finally arrived.

You turn around to JJ, both of you grinning. Penelope told you earlier that day what happened between her and Kevin - and that Rossi made an unexpected visit at her apartment when they were in the shower together. He wanted to get more information about the crime that haunted him for more than 20 years and it couldn’t wait anymore.

You all watch the situation unfold. “Agent Rossi, we need to talk. About Penelope. Man to man,” Kevin says nervously. Emily and Morgan exchange a confused look, they have no idea what’s going yet. “Man to man,” Rossi says with a smile before he goes up to talk to Kevin.

“What about Penelope?” Morgan asks curious. “I don’t know,” Spencer says, just as confused as Morgan. You and JJ exchange a look before both of you start to sing “Garcia and Kevin, sitting in a tree…” you laugh when you see their shocked expressions. “Get out of here, you’re serious?” Morgan asks.

“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here,” Emily says with a excited grin on her face. Spencer still looks confused, he seems to miss something here. “What? What does that mean?” he asks. “Didn’t you hear them sing?” Emily asks in disbelief. “The song meant something? No, no I missed it,” he says.

You can see that he’s trying really hard to figure out what exactly he’s missing here. “Yeah it…” Emily starts but then she hesitates and stops. “You know what, never mind,” she says and starts to pack up her things. Morgan playfully hits Spencer’s head. “Come on boy, you’re a genius. That’s easy to figure out,” he says and grabs his bag, getting ready to leave too.

Meanwhile you, JJ and Emily can’t stop laughing when you see how confused Spencer is, still trying to understand what’s going on. “We’re leaving now, see y’all tomorrow,” you say and wave them goodbye.

The sun has long dipped below the horizon when you, JJ, and Emily step out of the building. The air is comfortably cool, the kind that makes the end of a workday feel almost peaceful. For once, the world feels still. You are happy that you solved the old case today, especially because you know how much it means to Rossi.

“I mean, I love Spencer,” JJ interrupts your thoughts. She zips up her jacket, “but how can someone be that smart and still completely miss the most obvious social cues?” Emily laughs, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. The guy can solve complex ciphers in his sleep but can’t figure out a basic playground rhyme?” You laugh with them, trying to keep your grin in check - unsuccessfully, of course.

“Maybe he was distracted,” you say, trying to sound casual. JJ gives you a knowing look. “Distracted, huh? Would the distraction happen to have gorgeous hair and a laugh that makes him smile every single time?” she teases. “Ohhh, yes,” Emily chimes in. “The FBI should start offering classes: How To Talk To Your Crush When You're A Literal Genius But Still Adorably Clueless.”

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, trying to hide behind your coffee cup. “You two are ridiculous,” you murmur, your cheeks already red. JJ arches an eyebrow. “You are so in love with him,“ she says and grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you say, but you know she’s right.

“Please,” she scoffs. “You know all his favorite authors. You binged Doctor Who last week and complained the entire time - but you still watched it. And when he walks into a room, you look like someone’s playing a secret love song in your head.” You open your mouth to argue, but stop. You know they’re not wrong.

Emily smiles, softer this time. “It’s cute. Honestly? I think he needs someone exactly like you.” You’re about to answer - maybe even admit it, just a little - when you suddenly freeze. “Crap. My keys,” you groan, patting your coat pockets. “I left them on my desk.” JJ smirks. “Sure. Is that all you left in there?” You shoot her a look and start heading back inside while Emily cackles behind you.

Most of the lights are off. The usual buzz of agents is gone, replaced by silence and the low hum of the lamps. That’s when you see him. Spencer sits alone, hunched slightly over his desk. One hand rests against his cheek, the other writes something down in the corner of his notebook. He’s completely lost in his own world.

He notices you when you get closer. “Oh, I thought you left,“ he says surprised. “I did, but I forgot my keys,“ you say and smile. “Ah,” he says, returning the smile - soft and shy - it makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. “I’m also still... trying to figure out that song,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “The ‘sitting in a tree’ thing.”

You sit lightly on the edge of your desk, playing with the keys in your hand. “You mean the one we sang about Garcia and Kevin?” He nods. “I know it’s a rhyme, but I don’t really get why you’d sing that when two people...” he starts “...have a thing?” you finish for him, grinning. His ears turn a little pink. “Yeah. That.”

You lean in just a bit, voice soft. “It’s kind of a playground way of saying two people are into each other. Like... they like each other. Even kissing.” He processes that for a beat, his eyes thoughtful behind his lashes. “So the song was a sign that Garcia and Kevin... are now together?” he asks. “Mmhmm,” you hum. “It’s a silly song. But also kind of cute.”

He nods again, more slowly this time. “I never learned how to... recognize that stuff.” There’s something so honest in the way he says it. Vulnerable, like a door he rarely opens is cracked just enough for you to peek inside. You smile gently. “You recognize a hundred patterns a day that no one else does. Maybe it’s just... a different kind of pattern.”

He looks up to you. His gaze lingers longer than usual. “Do you think...” he starts, then hesitates for a second. “Do you think I’d be able to recognize it if... if it involved me?” Your breath catches for a second. You want to say a thousand things. You want to tell him he already does. That he’s halfway there. That it’s been there, growing quietly between you both for months.

“I think if it involved you... I’d probably have to be the one to sing the song,“ you say boldly. His eyes widen just slightly, and then his smile returns. “Would you?” he asks, barely above a whisper. You nod and grin. “I might even start now. Spencer and I sitting in a tree…” He chuckles and for a second you both just sit there - quiet, smiling, the air between you softer than ever.

Then, without thinking too much, he shifts a little closer. “You know... I’ve never really done this. The flirting thing. Or the... song-worthy kind of thing.” You tilt your head, heart thudding just slightly louder. “Then maybe this is the part where we figure it out together.” His hand brushes lightly against yours on the desk. Not an accident. And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

Spencer’s hand lingers against yours, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. It’s tentative, like he’s still not sure if this is real - if he’s allowed to feel what he’s feeling. But then, slowly, he intertwines his fingers with yours. You look down for half a second, a soft smile forming before your eyes find his again. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s waiting for any sign to tell him he’s not making a mistake.

You give the smallest nod, barely noticeable, but enough. And then - he leans in. It’s slow, almost hesitant. Like he’s giving you time to change your mind. Your heart races, the space between you shrinking. You tilt your head just slightly, your lips parting as the moment settles in but right before your lips touch -

The office door swings open. You both snap apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Rossi and Kevin step out, mid-conversation, but they stop when they see you. You’re still sitting on the edge of your desk. Spencer’s still leaning forward, clearly way too close for a casual chat. There’s a beat of silence. Then Rossi looks at Kevin. Kevin looks at Rossi. And they both grin.

Your face goes hot in an instant. You jump to your feet and grab your keys off the desk. “Right, um, that’s what I came for. My keys. I got them. So... I’m going now.” Spencer, very clearly blushing, fumbles to close his notebook and shove it into his bag. “Y-yeah, me too. I should, uh... I should probably—go.” Kevin tries to hide his smirk, not very successfully.

Rossi just raises an eyebrow at you both, his voice casual but far too amused. “Long day, huh?” he asks. “Yup!” you squeak, already halfway to the hallway. “Very long. Okay. Goodnight!” You hear Spencer mumble something that vaguely resembles goodnight as he rushes to catch up. Behind you, as the elevator doors close, you swear you hear Rossi chuckle.

The scent of fresh coffee fills the air as Penelope strolls into the break room, her signature bright and colourful outfit standing out against the muted tones of FBI suits. She’s carrying a huge mug and grinning like she knows something no one else does - which, of course, she does.

JJ is already sitting at the table with Emily, sipping her coffee. You’re at the counter, adding a splash of cream to yours, when Penelope speaks. “Ladies,” she says, in a tone far too mischievous for 8 a.m. “You will not believe what Kevin told me last night.” Emily perks up instantly. “If it’s drama, please continue.” JJ leans forward. “Oh no. Is this about the Penelope-Kevin-Rossi surprise saga?”

Penelope waves a hand. “No, no - that’s old news. This is better. Apparently... when Kevin and Rossi walked out of his office last night -” she pauses for dramatic effect, “- they saw a certain someone and a certain Dr. Reid looking very, very cozy at her desk.” Your hand freezes mid-pour. JJ whips her head toward you. “You were still there?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Told you, I forgot my keys.” Emily raises a brow. “And somehow that led to almost kissing Spencer in the bullpen?” Penelope gasps, delighted. “Almost?! Oh, honey, he was definitely leaning in,“ she says. JJ’s mouth drops open in delighted shock. “So wait... you two were just - what? Holding hands and gazing longingly into each other’s eyes in the dark like it’s some kind of FBI rom-com?”

You open your mouth, close it again, then groan and hide your face behind your coffee cup. “It wasn’t like that.” Emily chuckles. “It bet it was exactly like that. Penelope grins. “Rossi and Kevin were smiling the entire time Kevin told me. Kevin literally said, ‘They jumped apart like teenagers getting caught on a porch swing.’”JJ bursts into laughter. “Oh my god.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, cheeks burning. “Can we not make this a thing please?” you ask. “Too late,” Emily says, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “I give it a week before the BAU has a new couple,“ she says. “I give it three days,” Penelope counters. JJ nods. “I give it until lunch.” You groan again but can’t help laughing. There’s genuine excitement behind their teasing. And despite the embarrassment, something in your chest flutters at the thought.

The rest of the morning you try to act like everything is normal. Like nothing happened last night. Like your entire team isn’t betting on your love life. Spencer is already at his desk. He looks up the moment you walk in. You expect awkwardness - nervous glances, maybe a quick hello and then heads buried in paperwork. But instead, he smiles.

You return it before you can stop yourself. You walk past his desk on the way to yours, and for a moment you both hesitate, hovering near each other like there’s something unsaid still hanging in the air. “Hey,” he says, standing up slightly. “Hi,” you reply. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. There’s a pause. You both glance around.

The bullpen is unusually quiet. No JJ, no Emily, no Penelope hovering. It’s just the two of you. Again. “I, um...” Spencer rubs the back of his neck. “About last night. I didn’t mean to - make things weird.” You smile softly. “You didn’t. I mean... you kind of did. But in a nice way.” He lets out a small breath - half a laugh, half relief. “That’s... good. Because I keep thinking about it.” You blink. “Yeah?” He nods. “Yeah. I didn’t get to finish what I was about to do.” Your heart skips a beat.

“Maybe we just ran out of time,” you say quietly. He takes a small step forward, close enough now that his voice drops to just above a whisper. “Maybe we could try again. Sometime.” You smile, soft and full of something that’s been waiting a long time to be said. “I’d like that.” You’re both standing there, suspended in a moment that could easily tip into something more when - of course -

“Hey, loverbirds!” Penelope’s voice rings out from across the room. You jump slightly. Spencer flinches. Penelope waves from the stairs, JJ and Emily right behind her, absolutely smirking. You and Spencer look at each other, cheeks equally red. “Maybe not right now,” he mumbles, quickly sitting back down. You laugh and head to your desk, still smiling.

The morning is exhausting and not because of paperwork or a new case. It’s the teasing. Endless teasing. From the moment you walked in, it felt like there’s a spotlight following you and Spencer around the office. Every look is noticed. Every word is overanalyzed. Every accidental eye contact turns into a team-wide event.

JJ, Morgan, Emily, Penelope… even Rossi is in on it. And Spencer? He’s barely holding it together. You can practically see the internal panic whenever someone mentions “last night” or “bullpen romance” or, worse, your name followed by his in the same sentence. And yet, no one lets up.

It starts again, of course, with Morgan. “You sure you’re hydrated, Pretty Boy?” he calls out across the room. “You look a little flushed this morning.” Spencer doesn’t even respond this time. He just groans and ducks his head, pretending to read something extremely fascinating in a case report.

You glare at Morgan over your coffee cup. “You’re relentless,“ you tell him. “Can’t help it,” he says with a grin. “You two are my new favorite soap opera.” JJ strolls past your desk with a smirk. “Do you want me to start bringing popcorn? Because I will.” You shake your head, already trying to retreat into your work, but Penelope appears beside you like she’s been summoned.

“Can we just skip to the part where one of you makes a move before the tension physically breaks my screen?” Across the room, Spencer lifts his head to give you a helpless glance. Emily eyes him thoughtfully. “You know what’s funny?” she says. “Kevin said - and I quote - ‘There was something kind of unwritten about the way they looked at each other.’ Like a moment out of a movie where the soundtrack kicks in.” Spencer closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”

You sink in your chair. “This is fine. Everything’s fine.” Rossi walks by at that exact moment and offers, far too casually, “Should we clear the conference room for your inevitable confession scene?” You and Spencer both say no at the same time. The team bursts out laughing. You know it‘s going to be a long, chaotic, ridiculous morning. But maybe... exciting, too.

It’s early afternoon when you finally get a second to breathe. You step out into the hallway, heading toward the evidence room to drop off a few files, and find Spencer already there, leaning against the wall, looking like he’s doing the exact same thing - escaping.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, and for the first time all day, he smiles without hesitation. “Hi,” he says again. “Hey,” you reply, stopping beside him. “You hiding too?” He nods. “JJ tried to slide a Hershey’s Kiss onto my desk and whispered, ‘Symbolism.’”

You laugh quietly. “Penelope asked me if I wanted her to make a love playlist for us.” Spencer shifts, a little nervous. “So… we’re not imagining it, then. Everyone really does know what almost happened.” You exhale a breath. “Yeah. They really know.” A beat passes. Then you both laugh.

It breaks the tension but there’s still something lingering between you, something that’s been quietly building for months and only just began to surface last night. Spencer’s voice softens. “I meant what I said earlier. About wanting to try again.” You look up at him, heart skipping. “I remember.”

There’s a long pause. He looks at you like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s choosing this moment, finally. “I don’t want to keep almost kissing you in the bullpen,” he says quietly. “I want to actually kiss you. Not because the team’s making jokes or because it’s expected. Just... because I want to.” You step a little closer. “Then do it.”

His eyes flicker to your lips for the briefest second and then you’re leaning in, and he’s meeting you halfway, and everything slows down. It’s not rushed. Not dramatic. It’s soft. Careful. Exactly the way Spencer always is - with his thoughts, with his hands, with you.

And when it happens, it feels like something clicks into place. Like this was always supposed to happen. You pull back slightly, eyes still closed, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’s smiling too. “So... was that our first official something?” You nod. “Yep. And you survived it.”

He laughs, brushing his fingers against yours. “Barely.” From down the hallway, the faint sound of Penelope’s voice echoes: “I knew it!” You groan. Spencer sighs. But neither of you moves away.

You and Spencer return to the bullpen pretending - trying - to act normal. It doesn't work. Not because you’re doing anything obvious. You’re both quiet. Focused. Professional, even. But apparently, your faces tell a different story.

You barely sit down at your desk before Penelope appears, narrowing her eyes like she’s analyzing security footage. She tilts her head slowly, eyes flicking between you and Spencer like she’s putting together the final pieces of a puzzle. JJ walks in behind her and freezes mid-step.

Emily follows and immediately raises an eyebrow. “Okay. What happened?” You look up. “What?” Spencer doesn’t even lift his head. “Nothing happened.” JJ folds her arms, smirking. “You’re blushing,“ she says. “I’m not,” you lie. “Yes, you are,” Penelope singsongs. “And so is he.” Morgan, now very interested, leans over from his desk. “Did you guys...?” He stops. Eyes widen. “Oh my god, you did.”

Emily drops into a chair dramatically. “It happened! Didn’t I say Friday? I was so close!” JJ points at her. “Nope. I said lunch. It is literally 1:03.” Rossi enters just in time to see Morgan fist-pump in victory and Penelope doing some sort of quiet celebration dance in the background. “What did I miss?” he asks.

“They finally kissed,” Morgan says proudly. You groan and drop your head to your desk. Spencer looks like he wants to evaporate into the floor. “We didn’t tell them,” Spencer mumbles. “How did they even -” Penelope raises a finger like she’s giving a TED Talk. “Sweetie, you came back in here looking like a man who had just been kissed into another dimension. It’s not rocket science.”

Rossi chuckles and heads toward his office. “About time,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Emily smirks. “So... when’s the next kiss? Or are we waiting for the sequel?” You sit up finally, cheeks still warm. “You are all insane.” JJ winks. “And so proud of you.” Morgan points at Spencer. “You too, man. Took you long enough.” Spencer just gives a small, shy smile. And even though he’s clearly embarrassed, he doesn’t deny anything this time.

He glances at you across the bullpen, a question in his eyes. You smile back. No words needed. Penelope glances at Rossi’s office and then back at Spencer. “Oh, and by the way, you do still owe Rossi that ‘man-to-man’ talk. Just saying.” Morgan grins. “Yeah, don’t keep him waiting, Pretty Boy. Kevin's story’s still floating around.”

Spencer groans quietly. “Great. Just what I needed.” The team laughs, clearly delighted to have both gossip and an excuse to tease him some more.

From this moment on, it’s like the whole team is on a mission: Get You and Spencer Alone. JJ nudges you both together whenever possible. “Hey, you two, why don’t you double-check those files in the conference room? Privacy guaranteed.”

Penelope suddenly ‘needs help’ carrying a stack of papers - right past where you and Spencer are standing. “Oops, so clumsy! Could you two hold these for me? Thanks!” Morgan “forgets” his phone in your shared workspace and asks Spencer to grab it for him, then lingers nearby “by accident.”

Emily even volunteers to send you on a ‘quick errand’ to the evidence room... but conveniently ‘forgets’ to mention Spencer is already there. Every time you and Spencer find yourselves alone - even for just a few minutes - there’s this quiet, electric energy that fills the space.

And every time the moment almost blooms into something more, someone - usually Penelope or Morgan - interrupts with a perfectly timed comment or a sudden loud laugh. At one point, Spencer leans over and whispers, “They’re relentless.” You grin. “At least they want us to be happy.”

Spencer’s eyes soften. “Yeah. Feels like we’re... part of the family now.” You squeeze his hand gently, just for a second. “Definitely.” And somewhere in the bullpen, Penelope mutters, “Operation success is imminent.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #early season spencer

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strawberrystepmom · 1 day ago

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You’re sitting on the worn couch in the office, feet tucked up beneath you, a mug of tea warming your hands. You’re humming absentmindedly, something low and gentle as you work on stitching a tear in Dante’s coat. He’d brushed it off, of course, said “It’s just a scratch.” But you saw the way he winced when he moved in it, and you weren’t going to let it sit.

He’s at the desk across the room, trying to focus on cleaning one of his pistols, but his attention keeps drifting.

To the sound of your voice.

To the hum.

To your hands, steady and sure, threading needle through fabric with that same care you always give to him even when he doesn’t ask for it.

And then, like a sudden crack in a wall he didn’t know he’d built, he sees it:

—-----

A little boy with a snow capped head, no older than eight, sits on the kitchen floor, legs crossed, watching his mother Eva at the table. She’s humming something soft, maybe a lullaby, maybe just a tune she made up, while stitching a hole in his shirt. It’s a tiny thing, but she handles it like it matters. Like he matters.

“Mama, why do you bother? I’ll just mess it up again,” Dante mumbles, ashamed of his violence even as a child.

She smiles at him, not looking up.

“That’s alright, baby. I’ll keep fixing it.”

“Every time?”

“Every time.”

Her hands move like poetry — soft, practiced, full of love. The sound of her humming wraps around him like a blanket. It stays with him long after she’s gone.

—---------

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until you glance up and give him a small smile.

“You’re staring again.”

He blinks, startled, voice caught somewhere between man and boy.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Guess I am.”

You pause your stitching, giving him a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Doesn’t answer right away. Just crosses the room and sits beside you on the couch. His hand finds your thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles like he’s grounding himself in the now. In you.

“You hum when you do things,” he finally says.

You laugh softly, a shy smile spreading across your face. How humiliating. “I guess I do. Is it bothering you?”

He smiles, slow and fond, but there’s a glassiness in his eyes, a reverence in his voice.

“No, no.” Shaking his head, he does his best to let you know he really means it. “You just remind me of someone.”

You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder, your hand slipping into his.

“Someone good, I hope.”

He closes his eyes.

“The best.”

And in that moment with you humming, his coat in your lap, and the smell of tea hanging in the air Dante feels like he’s come full circle. Love found him again, in a way he never expected. Not in spite of his past but because of it. Because you, unknowingly, carry a piece of it inside you.

And that, somehow, makes the weight of memory feel a little less heavy.

#dante x reader #dante x you #dante sparda x reader #dante sparda x you #dmc x you #dmc x reader #kendall writes #danken

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delilahsturniolo · 1 day ago

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⟡ ݁₊ ᥫ᭡ ceo!matt finally getting to taste you after a long day of work

.ᐟ oral, (fem!recieving) fingering, kissing, dirty talk, pet names.

(credits to @sturnslutz for ceo!matt)

matt comes home after a grueling day at the office, his mind filled with thoughts of nothing but you. as he walks through the door, his eyes immediately find you, sitting there on the sofa in the lingerie you know he loves. the lacy fabric clings to your curves, showcasing the body he's been dreaming about all day.

“hey, how was work?” you looked up at him, watching as his eyes scanned your body. he sets his briefcase down. “long.” he huffs, all he wanted was you in that moment. “yeah?” you tease. he crosses the room in a few long strides, not able to contain himself, sweeping you into his arms. his lips crash into yours, urgent and demanding. he kisses you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you as his own. you melt against him, your body molding to his as the kiss deepens.

"i've been thinking about you all day," he growls, his voice low and thick with desire. "about how much i want to taste you." your breath hitches. "i need you," you whisper against his lips, your voice breathy with desire. "i need to feel your mouth on me."

matt doesn't need any more encouragement. he lifts you easily, his strong arms carrying you to the bedroom. he lays you down on the bed, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you, spread out before him like a feast. "you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his hands running over your body, caressing every curve. "been waitin’ all day for this pretty pussy..”

he starts at your neck, kissing and nibbling his way down. he lingers at your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples until you're writhing beneath him, your hips bucking up to meet his. but he doesn't stop there. he continues downward, trailing kisses over your stomach, your hips, until he reaches the juncture between your thighs.

"please," you beg, your body aching for his touch. "please, matt." he looks up at you, a wicked grin on his face. "i love hearing you beg f’me pretty girl..” he says, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "but i'm going to make you scream."

with that, he lowers his head and licks you, one long, slow stroke that has you crying out in pleasure. he licks and sucks, his tongue delving into you, tasting you deeply. he laps at you like you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, like he can't get enough.

"fuck—taste so good," he growls, his voice muffled and vibrating against you. he focuses on your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it. you're panting, your hips bucking, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock against his mouth.

"matt," you moan, your voice high and breathy. "i'm so close. please, don't stop." he doesn't. he keeps licking and sucking, his mouth working you until you're teetering on the brink. then he slides a finger inside you, then another, pumping them in and out as he sucks hard on your clit.

that's all it takes to send you flying over the edge. you come with a scream, your body shuddering, your hips bucking wildly as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. matt keeps licking you through it, his tongue gentle now, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you.

when it's over, he crawls up your body, kissing his way back up. he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "you're incredible," he whispers against your lips. you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. "i love you," you whisper back, your voice still breathy from your orgasm. he smiles against your lips. "i love you too," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "you know what? my meetings can wait.”

with that, he starts all over again, kissing and caressing every inch of your body until you're lost in a haze of pleasure, his name a constant refrain on your lips, you grab his tie, pulling him closer and deeper into your lips, awaiting a long and special night between the both of you.

💌: oh this isn’t the last blurb by the way, there’s more to come 😉

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fandomlit · 2 days ago

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sweatshirt thief (spencer agnew x reader)

summary as the office thief, you finally find your passion—stealing people’s sweatshirts. it turns into an iconic bit that cameos in many videos, but some cast members are surprisingly waiting for their turn..

warning swearing

gif cred belongs to @menchie

you were notoriously known as the office thief. it was a bit you had unintentionally started after some games gone chaotic in which you had been known, or more likely accused, to steal cards or other game related objects to either derail the game or benefit your competitive nature.

if anyone asked (and the fans started to), you would say it was angela’s fault, truly. she was the one who had yelled, after stealing penalty cards and slipping them into her spread during moose master, that soon you’d be stealing from desks. and so you decided it was only fair. the next day, angela was in a near panic trying to find her lucky frog—a small plush you had gotten her. and when she came to you, nearly in tears, to say she had somehow lost your sweet gift, you were holding him in your lap. from there, the thief rumors really started.

from pens to coffee cups to the shoe off of amanda’s foot, you were sneaky with your takes, but most everyone knew it was you after some months of shenanigans. even the fans, once amanda and shayne had you star on smosh mouth after the infamous shoe incident. but it wasn’t until about a month ago when you found your favorite thing to steal, and the fans loved it even more than you did—sweatshirts.

it started when you “arrived late” to a werewolf shoot. courtney had already given the intro and they had bantered a bit about the game before chanse gave the awaited, “aren’t we missing someone? where’s y/n?”

“sorry guys!” you called from just out of view and you watched jaws drop and laughter start when you romped onto camera, hands on your hips. you stopped in a “casual” pose, the iconic ‘furniture’ sweatshirt on full display to all. “traffic, you know?” shayne was almost in tears on the couch, face red as you took your seat next to angela.

“where did you get that?” he squeaked out, voice pitched higher in his hysterics. “i haven’t worn that in weeks!” his words sent the cast present into even further hysterics.

you just shrugged, keeping yourself impressively stone faced amongst the laughter. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“are we just.. not going to address it?” shayne said after a few more minutes of more banter and explaining the game. he was still chuckling, eyes locked on the sweatshirt you had somehow managed to get your hands on.

“shayne,” you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re married, stop looking at my outfit.” courtney and angela gripped onto each other’s arms to steady themselves from their laughter as chanse gasped dramatically. and thus, the sweatshirt stealing began.

next was tommy, who was more in love with how you pulled it off than confused. then there was angela, who stared at her iconic arizona tea sweatshirt in shock for half of the video. your favorite for a while was amanda’s reaction, who at first was obliviously giddy that you had found the same striped pullover as her until you finally cracked and started laughing. you had even managed to get your hands on anthony’s ‘on the verge’ sweatshirt one of his rare days on set, which he found absolutely hysterical after being informed of your sticky fingers.

some of the cast watched as you and anthony laughed and talked, you still proudly donning his sweatshirt.

“who do you think’s her next victim?” angela asked.

“i don’t know,” tommy hummed, tilting his head. “maybe courtney? she told me she’s been waiting for a chance to get ian, but he doesn’t really wear sweatshirts.”

“you know who does wear sweatshirts all the time?” they shared a knowing look.

and to be honest, spencer was waiting his turn.

you and him had been good friends for a while, getting lunch together once a week and spending downtime in the office brainstorming and joking with each other. he was trying to be cool, downplaying his feelings for the sake of a comfortable workspace in the scenario that you didn’t reciprocate, but his connection to you was undeniable.

you were beautiful, hilarious, confident, and your personality radiated in everything you did. not to mention you two had amazing chemistry both on and off camera—your infamous stone face was hard to break, but spencer was one of the few who could catch you off guard regularly, a fact that the fans loved to point out. but even without the fans to point it out, your banter and teases at each other were natural and fun, and spencer cherished that connection.

so he was waiting for a sweatshirt to go miraculously missing, so he could have that moment of teasing you on camera for wanting his sweatshirt, but also for the selfish fact that he just wanted to see you in his clothes.

he was a little worried that he was being too obvious about it and that’s why you weren’t taking the bait. he had started hanging his sweatshirt on the back of his chair wherever he was while also starting to tease you about your sweatshirt stealing habits.

“you just want to be next, don’t you?” you had teased back one morning, raising your mug to your smug lips. spencer’s heart immediately sped up. he knew you were joking, but the thought of you immediately clocking him had his cheeks heating up.

spencer decided playing along was his best bet—denial would only make him look as desperate as he felt. he leaned against the counter, offering you a charming smirk. “i just know you won’t be able to stay away for much longer.” you let out a laugh, and his smirk grew into a smile. “if you think i’m irresistible, just imagine how comfortable my sweatshirt will be.”

you laughed again, shaking your head as you moved past spencer to return to your desk, “we'll see where the day takes me.” you turned and winked at him as he watched you. his heart could have exploded as you giggled. “see you later, spence.”

he felt like he had been emotionally blue balled when you pulled up to the next smosh pit video "late" and rocking one of damien's hoodies.

"sorry i'm late! traffic, y'know?"

then it was courtney, and then arasha. after two months of the bit, he was ready to beg. the joking flirting between the two of you, plus the genuine connection you had when hanging out was starting to haunt spencer. it was beginning to feel like everything was going so well, and yet there was a piece missing. as if the sweatshirt stealing would be the great crux to this growing tension and incessant pining.

of course, it happened when spencer least expected it.

it was a crazy week in the smosh office, with fitting a lot of shooting in to accommodate busy schedules in the weeks after. there was a lot going on on the games side and spencer quickly found himself deep in his work, nearly forgetting your sticky fingers with his efforts completely focused elsewhere. and that's where you got him.

it was the friday evening shoot--the very last thing he had to do before he got to relax for the weekend. it was a simpler edition of board af, with you, angela, shayne, tommy, and spencer. he didn't even think twice about you being late when tommy started the intro.

"but wait," tommy chuckled, "aren't we missing someone?" spencer's heart involuntarily sped up at the classic line that began to signal you. "where's y/n?"

"sorry i'm late!" and when you stepped into the light, it was as if all the weight in the world had been taken off of spencer's shoulders. from the long week filled with shoots, complicated scheduling, last minute brainstorm meetings and other stressors, the sight of you in his iconic legacy hoodie was the most satisfying relief he could have imagined. he didn't realize one of his hands had come up to cover his open mouth until the other cast members looked at him as they laughed. "traffic y'know?"

spencer had thought about how he'd react a thousand times, but in all of those times he had never imagined just how good you would look in his sweatshirt. still, he masked his internal freak out. he dropped his hand and shook his head. "it has been such a crazy week, i don't even know when you did that." he wasn't aware of just how big his smile was in that moment.

you bowed with a proud grin. "a magician never reveals their secrets... but you have a bad habit of leaving your sweatshirts on the backs of chairs when you take them off. it was only a matter of time."

he just laughed, internally patting himself on the back. he couldn't take his eyes off of you, even as you sat down. he shook his head as the rest of the cast still grinned knowingly at your pair. "well, you look great."

"i feel great," you sighed out contentedly. you offered him a subtle wink before sinking into the video, "so, tommy, what are we playing?"

it was a fun gaming session, with the usual chaos and yelling that usually ensued, but spencer felt a little more into it today. and maybe it was because his pulse rushed every time he looked over and saw the adorable sight of you wrapped in his iconic hoodie, but spencer felt like every joke and every move he made was right on the money.

once there was a brief lull as turns changed and you spoke, "i'm so sorry guys, could i take a bathroom break really quick? i'm really hydrated."

"go piss girl," tommy encouraged and you giggled before jogging away to the nearest restroom.

"so, spencer," angela spoke loudly. "bet you're feeling great right now." his entire body flushed--he knew exactly what she was alluding to, and the image of you entering in his hoodie with a grin flashed into his brain once again.

"actually, a little cold," he decided to sigh in response and the cast laughed out in response. he hoped that distracted them from the warmth he could feel on his cheeks.

"okay, sorry! i'm back!"

"that was quick," shayne laughed, brow furrowed. and then you came around the corner and his jaw hit the floor. spencer’s heart nearly stopped and his jaw dropped when you plopped back into your seat, wearing another one of his sweatshirts—the light green champion one he had been looking for for weeks. and, lord, if this wasn’t the best way to find it.

“i was wondering where that went!” he exclaimed, laughing amidst his shock. if no one noticed his blush before, there was no way they’d miss it now. “oh my god!”

you grinned evilly, and it was way too hot for spencer to handle amidst the chaos.

“you’re actually a klepto,” angela was saying when spencer could finally tear his gaze away from you and focus on his surroundings. you laughed out and he couldn’t think of a more beautiful sight than you doubling over in his crewneck. his mental camera was going to need new film after this.

they picked the game back up after this resuming the chaos that was slightly more amped from the hilarity of your thievery. there was another pause when alex called out, “hold on, guys.. y/n, can you come back here for a sec? it looks like you got the bad mic today.”

“of course i did,” you laughed, standing and moving behind the camera for them to correct. they all chatted on set for another second about something happening in the game before you came back in sight.

“YOU’RE ACTUALLY KIDDING!” angela demanded and you didn’t even make it to your chair before you were doubled over, face beautifully flushed in pride and hilarity at your own bit. spencer’s hands came up to cover his open mouth as he saw you donned another of his sweatshirts—the tan champion one he had literally worn yesterday.

if his face got any redder he thought all blood flow to his body would be cut off. his hands moved up to rake through his hair as he laughed out again, shaking his head. he was so giddy inside, and everyone's incessant laughter was only ramping up the hysterical situation and his adrenaline. "what the fuck!" he laughed.

"this should be a lesson to you," you spoke, pointing at him with a grin as you walked back onstage. "stop leaving your sweatshirts around! you know i'm the sweatshirt thief!"

"it's almost like spencer wanted this to happen..," shayne muttered and spencer shot him a glare, but it seemed you didn't hear him over something angela was saying.

eventually, the game picked up without any further interruptions besides the occasional jest about the situation, and it ended with spencer taking the win.

"well, it looks like the spencer is the real winner today," angela sighed. "in many ways." she looked back at you and you all laughed again before shayne took the lead on the outro.

after you all signed off, spencer's gaze moved back to you immediately. you looked back at him after a moment, still smiling in that mischievous way that had his head reeling. "i'm pretty proud of myself for this one."

"i can tell," he chuckled, horribly aware of how hot his face still felt.

"personally, i'm so impressed," shayne laughed and angela immediately agreed.

"i will say," you nodded, "spencer wins comfiest sweatshirts." the others immediately complained.

tommy hummed teasingly, "i feel that's a little unfair! you only tried one of everyone else's, but three of spencer's! he clearly got an advantage."

you giggled, "maybe i'll have to draw more samples from everyone to really tell. i'll start a dance moms style pyramid." they all laughed, talking about what you could do, but all spencer could think of is how he hoped he would be the only one who you took multiple sweatshirts from.

soon after the shoot, as he packed his things for the day, spencer's mind was still reeling. he felt like he was on cloud nine, but he wanted to keep riding it. he wanted to ask you out or tell you how pretty you were, but above all he had the deep urge to just kiss you and let that do all the talking.

you approached spencer's desk with a sheepish smile and three neatly folded sweatshirts in hand.

"ask as you shall receive, spencer," you sighed and he raised an eyebrow at you. "you were the only one who asked me when their turn was, so i made it extra special for you."

"oh," he chuckled, his heart beginning to race just as it did earlier. "well, it was very appreciated. and you looked great." it came out more sincere than he had meant it, but he was glad when he saw a flush rising to your cheeks.

"why, thank you," you smiled. there was a moment where you both just smiled at each other before you held out the small stack to him. "well, i wouldn't want to keep you from them any longer. thanks for playing the game."

he almost didn't want to take them. what he really wanted was for you to put them back on and kiss you and compliment you and spin you around. but after eyeing them for a moment, he opted to just take them. "i'll always play the game with you, y/n." yet again, it came out so much more sincere than intended.

after a beat where it looked like you may say something, you just offered him a small wave, "have a good night, spencer." and in a moment of panic where he thought this might be the best chance he has, spencer grasped your hand just as you turned from him. you turned your head back to him, looking down at your hands as you paused. you sounded a little flustered when you spoke, "was there something else?"

"um, yeah," he gulped awkwardly. he looked into your patient eyes as he tried to form some smooth talking to convince you into a date with him, but the smile you offered him only proved to scramble his brain even further. so, he resorted to what he had been thinking for most of the afternoon and tugged you close as gently as he could. he made sure there was no hint of disgust in your expression just before he took your face in his hands and kissed you with a passion he didn't think he had left in him after such a week. but you had revived that part of him from its slump the second you walked on set.

spencer could've collapsed when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders and your lips kiss him back with the same passion, if not a little more. it was like heaven to hold you, his hands moving so one was in your hair and the other held your waist, and it was even better to feel you pour your emotions into the kiss just as much as he was. he didn't know how long you two stood there, lost in the moment, but still wished it had been longer when you pulled apart for air.

he took a moment to think properly before speaking in a surprisingly level tone, "you've done a great job at flustering me all over the place today," you let out a surprised giggle, "i thought it was only fair to pay it back somehow." you laughed again, moving the inch forward to press your foreheads together.

"i definitely think you achieved that."

he smiled, praying you couldn't hear his heartbeat despite your closeness. "and i would love to repay it further. maybe with dinner?"

you hummed and the way you looked up at him, eyes shining with feelings he couldn't wait to decipher, nearly made him melt in your arms. "dinner sounds amazing. but only if it's carry out."

"oh, for sure," he nodded, leaning away from you so he could grab his keys off of his desk. he missed the closeness instantly. "we can eat at my apartment." he leaned down and picked up the sweatshirts he had dropped when he kissed you. he grinned as he offered them back to you. "but only if you wear one of these."

you let out a laugh and grabbed his legacy hoodie, teasing, "what, my fit isn't good enough for you?"

"oh, it is. you look great in everything," he assured, wrapping an arm around your waist as you two started toward the doors. he smiled down at you. "i just think we should pay tribute to what got us here." you hummed in response. "really, we should be thanking all the sweatshirts stolen."

"no. we should be thanking angela."

#smosh x reader #youtubers x reader #smosh fanfic #youtuber fanfic #smosh games x reader #smosh games fanfic #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #shayne topp fanfic #courtney miller fanfic #tommy bowe fanfic #damien haas fanfic #angela giarratana fanfic #anthony padilla fanfic

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alexiabae · 21 hours ago

Text

2024; fc barcelona femení x fem!reader

Summary: the 25/26 campaign for barcelona's squad was the most disastrous until the date. so after the players asked for a new head coach, natalia arroyo brings a new fresh air and new staff team.

Warnings: delicate topics, fluff, very long, a mysterious fb!player x fem!reader romance, slow burn.

Note: I don't know why I wrote this.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Alexia never thought to use her name for something, and specially to bring someone out of the team. She had many conversations with her teammates, where all of them have her back and support the idea. After discussing it with them, she discussed it in the office to communicate that they aren't happy with the result of this past season. The number of matches they lost made Alexia blush, they lost the league for the first time in a long time, remaining third behind Atlético de Madrid and for the first time in their history, Real Madrid won. It didn't finish there, in the Champions League they almost were out on the group stage, staying second and because Frankfurt's team lost their game. They fell on the quarter final against Bayern Munich, the worst performance that Barcelona's squad played in a long time, the amount of mistakes they have, failing easy passes, miscalculating and not talking about the goals. They didn't score, just received. The players waited for indications that never came, and all they did was remain on the pitch and wait for it to end, apologising later for their performance.

National tournaments were the same, they lost the Supercopa semifinal and at least in La Copa de la Reina they fell in the final, still it hurt.

A team like this fell and no one made a move to prevent it from falling. It angered them, to the point where in one of the last bond nights of the season —over for them from months— they decided to speak up, again. They did it, Alexia alongside Marta and Patri the three captains of the Catalan club, talk about it with the people in charge of their section. They only promised to hold and wait, and keep working hard, like if they stopped from doing it. With their jaws clenched, the three players communicated to the rest the result and after many discussions, they did exactly that.

But not anymore.

That night they explode and decide to write in a paper everything they want to explain to them, starting with the resignation of the head coach of the club. They have enough, it showed in his first season but still they manage to win the league and reach the final of the Champions League, but they all suffer that season. What they didn't know was the start of a decline on the next one.

So after many hours and days of discussion, the three captains come back to the offices and on the heat of the argument, Alexia tiredly, but firm announce that if the situation is keeping like that, she is out of the club.

Marta and Patri look at her surprise, that offer never showed up. Alexia's chest is going wildly, but she made a decision. A risky one, but she can't anymore with the situation, why does she or they need to intervene to change when it's obvious they need it?

She crossed her arms on her chest with a fierce look, a leg moving uncontrollably under the table, her posture on the chair is challenging but she is feeling the opposite.

"Tomorrow I'll give an answer."

Nodding with her head, it's the most they can afford. Alexia isn't waiting for an okay, I'll do it or a dismissal for their part, she wants for them to realise that if they didn't pay attention to the players, there are consequences.

Out of there, Patri smack Alexia's arm repeatedly with an alarming face. Marta asked her for an explanation, but Alexia shrugged and kept walking to the changing room, saying she would explain everything there.

•••

After many reunions, even the president of the club's intervention on their negotiations to make Alexia change her mind and stay at the club, offering a raise of the salary and an extension to prolong her contract, she only put a condition to stay.

Bring a new head coach and I'll stay.

She is firm, the Catalan doesn't want any of their offers, maybe the prolonging of her contract, but what she cares about right now is if she leaves, the club needs to be like before.

So they listen to them, to her and bring a new head coach. They didn't know who would be, but there is a massive step here, they are free from the people who didn't care about them.

The day of the announcement, Claudia sent a link to the group chat;

🚨 FC BARCELONA FEMENÍ

New head coach announcement!

We are delighted to announce to you all who the new head coach is!

Natalia Arroyo is the new in charge of the Condal club, assuming the responsibility to take our girls back to the top again!

The Catalan coach couldn't reject the offer. Natalia has been without training any club since the start of this year, when Aston Villa rescinded the contract. We are very happy to announce this new agreement between the club and Natalia Arroyo, who shows her emotion to come back to coach another Spanish team, the last one was Real Sociedad.

Read more ↓

The group chat was burning, all of them very pleased with the new change and who is. They heard in the past her name being linked with the club.

Sighing relief, they spend their holidays without worry and wanting to come back to training with other expectations.

•••

With other energy on the ambient, Barcelona's players started to approach for the first day of training for the upcoming preseason.

Natalia approaches the changing room after knocking on the door. With a kind smile on her face, she greets them happily. The older players went to greet her with a hug, knowing the woman for a long time and because they coincided with her in the Catalan team. After exchanging some words, the coach instructed them to go to the meeting room.

Alexia is one of the first to walk there, Mapi and Aitana flying behind her. They are commenting on some anecdotes through their summer, their tan skin showing up on the new summer kit training. The hazel eyes of the captain look around once she goes inside, greeting their coach again. She could see a few new faces behind Natalia, sharing the same Barça clothes as them. However someone else catches Alexia's attention, the one a little apart from the small group, behind the desk typing something in a laptop and Natalia is sitting there maintaining a friendly chat with her. It surprised her a little about the appearance of this woman, looking young and another circumstance Alexia would think she is a new player.

Mapi soon points her out in a whisper to them, the defender sits down next to her captain in the first row, Aitana chooses to sit on the second row just behind them.

Soon, the meeting room was getting full and when the players were seated, Natalia closed the door and clapped calling their attention and coming back to learn on the desk looking at them.

"Well, firstly hello!" She leaves a small laugh waving a hand in the air, the players greet her back with cheer on her voice. "I know the major part of this team knows who I am, but I'm going to introduce myself to the ones who didn't. I'm Natalia and like you see, I'm going to be your new head coach. That small group is my staff team, and the second coach is this one," Natalia points with her thumb to the person behind her, who greets them shyly with a soft wave of her hand still standing behind the desk. "I know what you are thinking, she looks around your age after all. Her name is Y/N and very shy, but once she trust you would be your worst nightmare," Natalia gives you a knowing smirk, hearing how some of the players leaves out a chuckle by her comment and your reaction. The coach cleared her throat and again clapped with her hands, her expression turning serious. "Before we start to explain what we want for what's coming, I heard what you did and I'm very proud of you all. This team didn't deserve to be treated the way they treat you, so hopefully we can help to bring some happiness and win things, right?" Some of them have a playful expression on their faces, others join Natalia to tease a little about the last comment, making the room laugh. Then, they proceeded to explain what would happen in the next few weeks, the upcoming friendly matches and the Champions Leagues' ones.

"No need to be ashamed of it, girls. Sometimes things like that happen and you still have the opportunity to be classified and I'm sure this team would be in the Champions League this season. So please, leave out the negative thoughts and let's go to training!" Natalia walked out from the desk, going to open the door and remained there while the players started to go out.

That first day feels the best in a long time. The training is fluid, laughs filled the pitch and the competitiveness is showing up. Alexia notices you taking notes in a small notebook behind Natalia, eyes on them and scribbling there in a concentrated face, she feels a little curious. On the break to have lunch, your name approaches between them, curiosity showing their tones and trying to guess your personality, not always you have someone young to be a coach or this case, second in charge.

Ingrid is the first one who approached you, the Norwegian coincidence with you when she was to pick her food, you are standing there picking food for yourself. Friendly, Ingrid compliments your hair and gives you a small smile when you thank her shyly, moving aside to leave her some space. Once the tall brunette goes to the table where Mapi is awaiting her after the wave with a hand for her to go there, she shrugs with a smile the moment her girlfriend asks her about what you talked about.

However, the next day they would find you a little more involved with them. After they warm up, Natalia announces they will play a small match between them, she and you would choose two teams.

With their curiosity on, Natalia says Alexia's name first. They all look at you, gripping your notebook between your hands, you muttered Jana's name. A small surprise is showing on their faces, even the own player walking to your side, usually when they pick, the defenders are left out until the end, at least you are very good in that position. Natalia chose Salma, you choose Ingrid. They give their six names to form their teams, the ones who have not been named walked to the shadow and commented on what would happen.

You walked towards the team you form picking up the bib and passing it to them to put it on. Once they are ready, you put yourself in front of them.

"The only thing I want from you, is to keep the ball." You say simple, ignoring the weird looks they are giving you. "I don't want you to score and I don't mind if they score you, just try to keep the ball the most you can." You inform them, they nod slowly. "And Jana, you are the captain." You give her a lipped smile and walk out of the pitch, indicating that everything is said and they walk to their positions.

Unsure, they were positioned in their natural positions since you didn't say anything to them about how they should be lined up. Under the goal is Ellie, in the defensive line are Ona, Ingrid, Jana and Esmee, Aitana in the midfield and Kika up alone. Natalia walked next to you and asked if everyone was ready, then she whistled and the little match started.

Your team is struggling for the command you made, it's not like they are doing it on purpose it's just after two touches, they have someone behind and kicks the ball out of their feet. Two goals after, Jana thinks she is understanding what is happening, so she passed the ball to Ingrid and this one passed it to her again. She passed it to Ellie and once again the ball landed on her feet, good three touches and the ball is still on their side. Risking, she passes the ball to Esmee who is to her right. The Dutch pass it quickly to Aitana when Alexia chases her, the brunette grazes her booth enough to pass it to Ona. They are like that for a while, the game is getting heated by the moment but they are with the ball.

Then, Aitana lost the ball and again they entered the spiral from the start. Alexia's team scored again, her face shows confusion for the strategy your team has but remains quiet, seeing you and Natalia share some words with hands on your mouths.

It worsened because every time they passed the ball to Aitana, this one lost it. The frustration is showing on the midfielder, who soon scowled in your direction but didn't say anything. Jana had enough and approached her teammate, saying with a firm tone what she needs to do. She saw how Aitana clenched her jaw but nodded in her direction, going to chase the opponent.

When Aitana snatched the ball from Ewa, she passed it to Kika, feeling a little better with herself. They are keeping the ball for the second time with long passes, the ball going out when it collides with Salma's foot.

"I'm going to change the line!" You raise your voice from your position, making the teams look at you while you keep looking at your notebook while you keep scribbling. "The defensive line up! Kika in the midfield and Aitana defending."

They all look at you stunned, searching Natalia's eyes for an explanation after a few seconds, but the coach shrugged and kept her arms crossed. Biting the inside of her cheek, Aitana wipes the sweat off her forehead with the bib and walks near the box while the defenders jog up.

Surprisingly, the defensive line keeps the ball between them good. Aitana's senses are high, focusing on every pass and going to help Kika. However the moment the other team has the ball, she is struggling with Salma, who is winning her every battle they are having. Aitana is fuming at that point, still she remains quiet.

The next time Salma scored, you indicate for Esmee to accompany Aitana, leaving the defensive line with three defenders.

Jana started to yell command to her team, giving encouraging words to Aitana every time she failed. It's been awhile since she understood the strategy you gave them, but it seems Aitana still couldn't figure it out. It's mostly for the defensive line exercise, that's why you choose mostly those players. However Kika is not struggling like Aitana, she seems very focused and barely has any mistakes to keep the ball between her feet.

"A break!" Natalia whistles, the rest of the players approach to give them bottles to hydrate. "Now, we are changing sides and this team is with me now." She points to the team you made, Aitana almost leaves a content sigh when she hears her, Mapi elbowed her side but the brunette rolled her eyes and kept sipping from the bottle.

Ten minutes later, you ignore the frown in Alexia's face and give the strategy. "I want you all to hold this." You approached them and gave Claudia a rugby ball. "Every time you give a pass, you need to throw it to the person you passed." You instructed, looking at them briefly. "Ah, I would like to change the captain, if that's okay with you." She looks at Alexia, who slowly nods with her head with a look that says everything. "I want Cata to be the captain."

Now, it's the other team who take the lead. Aitana seems more comfortable and it's playing like herself, finding Kika, Ona and Esmee easily. Alexia flinches with every minute passing, throwing at your way an annoying look when they lose the ball. The only ones comfortable are Salma, Claudia and Cata. Irene, Alexia and Frido are struggling.

"Why do we need to do it?" Alexia snapped throwing the rugby ball to the ground, stepping towards you for an explanation.

Irene puts a hand on her shoulder, whispering her name.

"I like this." Claudia comments, the small smile on her face washing out when Alexia gives her a look.

You look at her impassive, playing with the pen in your fingers. "Because I said it." You say softly, a hint of firmness in your voice.

Alexia's frown deepened, not liking your answer. Claudia paints a smirk, winking in your direction before she walks to pick a bottle to drink. The blonde looks at Natalia, but she remains quiet and gives a lipped smile to the midfielder. Irene brings her back to the pitch, not having the same problem with the rugby ball even if she is struggling like her.

Mapi and Patri make a bet for how long it would take Alexia to snap again.

•••

The next day Alexia and Aitana give you a frown when they see you, the contrary that Ingrid, who approaches you with a content face and makes conversation with you.

When Natalia announces to them that you would be in charge of the next exercise, the midfielders are relieved when they aren't chosen for this one.

"I want you to play the ball in short." She says shortly, looking at Mapi and Irene. They nod, seeing how you call for Kika and Ewa to attack them. "It's the only thing I want, okay? If some of them touch the ball, you start again until you make it."

Nodding, Cata gives the ball to Mapi to put it in play. There is a mannequin pretending to be the player who would receive the ball, Mapi and Irene need to find the right pass to do. But it isn't happening, Kika and Ewa are blocking Mapi perfectly when she tries to play. You can see the frustration forming on Mapi's face, so you stop the exercise.

"Kika and Ewa, leave her to come out." You instruct when you put the mannequin in another position. Then, you approach the two forwards and whisper what they are going to do. Nodding with their heads, they put themselves in the midfield.

With expectation, you indicate to Mapi to start. The Aragonese jog with the ball, Irene staying behind to defend. Kika is letting Mapi approach the midfield area, frowning a little the defender keeps her eyes on the players and thinks fast to give the pass. Out of nowhere, you yell to Frido to put like full back and help Mapi to create a play. Then, the moment Mapi gives a pass to the Swedish player Kika throws herself to the pitch and cuts the pass, running for the ball and passing it to Ewa.

They are like that for a few minutes, until Mapi yells angrily at herself. You stopped the exercise and put yourself next to the Portuguese forward, who has the ball under her foot. You patted her shoulder and whispered a good job only for her to hear, Kika nods with a small smile, content to hear the compliment.

"Don't you see it?" You ask calmly while you step towards Mapi, whose breath becomes agitated by the previous exercise. The defender has a frown, with an irritated gaze she looks down briefly, her eyes half closed for the sun shining on her face. "You don't know how to keep the ball when they do that." You look at Frido too, the Swedish has both hands on the sides of her waist and biting her lower lip. Your voice didn't sound mad, it's calm. "It's where you failed more last season."

Mapi clenched her jaw, her breathing becoming normal. She sees you how you ask Kika for the ball and then, you walk towards her with it in your hands.

"It's weird to see something you know to do and fail constantly." You point to Mapi to follow you and walk to the box, leaving the ball there. "You two are the weak side of the team when you play in short." Mapi bites the inside of the cheek, flinching when she hears you. Frido lowered her head, weakly nodding towards your words. "And they knew it. Come here Mapi."

The defender walks towards you with heavy steps, behind the ball. "They are letting you play while covering the pass you would give to the midfielders, so the only pass you would give is the wings back or move the ball back. It's what they want and then, they press in both ways." You pause, the attention of the whole team on your explanation. "They want you to forget the strong side for them. How many times Graham is alone and you didn't see her?" At this mention, Mapi plays with her tongue and doesn't say anything, just shrug. "They don't want you to play to that side and they are successful. So will start to work, okay? You need to know where your players are, they always will be there. Put it." You tend to Mapi a black blindfold, the defender picks it up from your hands, doubting about it.

When Mapi has the blindfold on, you instruct her what to do. You walk to the sidelines and ask for some of them to go to the pitch. Once everything is settled, you put behind Alexia and you whistle, seeing Mapi kick the ball in your direction but fail for a few meters to her right. When you whistle again, this time Mapi gives a good pass, Alexia catching the ball easily with her foot. You clap at her and indicate she made it, Mapi shouts at you if she can do it again.

A few minutes like that, you order at Mapi to pull off the blindfold and do it with the exercise before.

You jog towards Mapi and raise her head to the level you wanted. "Focus on your teammates, when they pressed you to give large passes or when they leave you jogging with the ball, you need to know where your teammates are."

Mapi nods, with a different restore inside of her, she is determined to learn the mistake and perfection it. You whistle and Mapi jog with the ball, quickly taking a look at her teammates in time when Claudia comes to attack her, she passes the ball to the other side, to Esmee. The Aragonese started to be motivated and asked to do it again and again and again until Natalia indicates that it is enough, making Mapi pouts a little in her direction.

Taking their breath, you sit down on the ball in front of them. This action called their interest, turning their bodies to pay you their full attention. "I want to have a little chat about something I think is important." You start, hands intertwining while you take a look at them. "It's about Turin," you name it carefully, noticing the change on some faces when they hear you. "We need to work on that, it's not possible until today you still have struggled with it and when you lose, the first thing in your mind is “like Turin”, because it's not." You say firm, but there is gentleness in your voice. "You need to take away the expectation, the favouritism, the things that make you all don't believe. The fear of making people support you wastes their money on you." The last comment hurts more than they want to admit, you can feel it on their faces. "They support your team and support you, no one is asking them to travel or come to every match, they care about you, keep that in mind." You finished, standing up with the silence formed for your words. "And Natalia wants to remind you that we have a vacancy for the third captain, Aitana and Mapi are the chosen ones. Good luck choosing." This comment brings back the calm and teasing laugh, a different perspective where the air felt lighter.

That day Alexia has more respect for you, even if she still couldn't understand the exercise you put on the last day.

•••

The third day, the team gathered in the meeting room. Natalia is giving indications of the opposing team they will face next week. While the coach was talking, you approached them with books in your arms, giving one to every player.

"There is everything about the rival team, I add the opponents in the Champions League too. Please, what I gave save it for the next ones. The pages are recycled, for if you want to know..." You explain when Natalia stopped talking, walking back next to her.

Alexia opened the black cover, a photocopy with a neat letter very detailed, greeting her. Soft whispers start to be heard when they open it too, the midfielder sees small tips about the rival, a column with different colours with their own names, and a lot more that leave Alexia very perplexed.

"Alexia made you do this?" Mapi asks loudly, making some of them laugh while Alexia blushes and hiss her name, giving her friend a look.

You chuckle softly, blushing too. You shake your head, commenting that you like the details that nobody pays attention to.

"You need to study every page about this team." You add, pointing to Mapi with her finger in a teasing way.

"I wish it was like this when I needed to study in high school..." Mapi comments, going through the pages and seeing photos, underlined lines in different colours, links and many more.

"Agree." Claudia mutters next to her, some humming agreeing with both of them.

Natalia winks in your direction, patting your arm friendly.

"Did you write it?" Ingrid asks, raising a hand in the air. You nod, making her look at you impressed. She didn't know how to feel, but she felt appreciated by your efforts. "Thank you."

You give her a small smile.

Natalia cleared her throat and brought the attention towards her again, starting to explain what they would do after the meeting was over.

After training, Natalia suggests doing a little game that you would explain. They gathered around you two, some of them with bottles on their hands or with their arms crossed waiting for you to explain.

"It's simple, you are going to put on a blindfold," you show it in the air for them to watch. "and your teammate would help you to shoot the ball to the goal. Like you could see, we put obstacles for the one who has this on." You point with a hand the places where the obstacles are scattered. "Alexia, you are first." You give a quick look to your notebook, giving a lipped smile to the captain.

Alexia steps towards you and picks the blindfold, a small frown on her features. You call Jana, instructing her that she would be the one in charge to guide her blinded teammate. Once Alexia covers her eyes, she waits for you to start. However, she couldn't hide her surprise expression when she felt a warm touch wrapping her left hand.

They need to do it like that.

They jogged together, the soft indication in Jana's voice came two seconds later. Alexia turns to the right with the ball glued on her foot, Natalia's voice indicating that they need to do it faster. In a strong grip, Alexia does what Jana is telling her, leading the way. After sorting the penultimate obstacle, Jana guides her to the left and yells at her to shoot the ball. Alexia could hear how it hit the crossbar, but a soft palm on her shoulder and the victorious voices of her teammates tell her that she scored.

The Catalan pulls the blindfold off and high five with Jana, who gives her a wide smile. She sees how the ball ran out of the goal, still Alexia scored and didn't trip on her way there.

The next ones are Patri and Vicky.

"I put you with her because you wouldn't be mad." You explain shyly to Alexia when she approaches the group, making her laugh quietly while shaking her head slowly.

"And you are right. You put me with someone else and if I fail, it's for their fault." Alexia comments back, a teasing smile remaining on her lips watching how Patri trips with the mannequin because Vicky pushes her softly, the whole group starts to laugh and Patri protests to do it again and with someone else, giving a bad look to the young player who didn't see guilty for what she did.

•••

"Euskal Herritik?" Irene asks loudly after the last meeting, she is sitting on the chair with her arms crossed.

You turn to look at her. "Guipuzkoa." You say, mirroring her smile.

"Finally someone from the same place." Irene comments, making some of them chuckle. She raised her hand in the air, you step towards her way and accept the gesture. "I'm tired of the Catalan surrounding this team..." She smirked widely when the Catalans complained, rolling her eyes when Claudia tells her that she is in a Catalan team and what she is waiting to be the players there.

They have the last training before the friendly match they have tomorrow. Natalia makes them gather around her while she tells her first line up for the upcoming match.

"And Aitana will be the third captain, Mapi let me know that she prefers Aitana to be the captain." Natalia finishes, dismissing them.

What they didn't know is that, later you give Natalia your own line up. A line up that makes Natalia smile reading the small comments you put under their names to be starting tomorrow. She comments on you to give her earlier, but congratulate you for having a different line up.

If Alexia needs to explain who they see themselves in that friendly match, it's wonderful. She feels like they are coming back to their roots, to where they belong and it inspired her confidence. Natalia took her out in the second half to give the youngest players minutes, she sees you sitting writing furiously in your inseparable notebook, sometimes standing up and walking to Natalia to share a comment. It's been awhile since Alexia saw someone with that emotion for what they are doing, and watching you doing them, makes Alexia feel proud. She barely knows you, but she senses that you care about what you are doing.

They won by three goals.

The next day after recovery time, Natalia ordered them to accompany her to the pitch. When they are approaching, they see you there sitting in a ball waiting for them.

"We are practicing penalties." Natalia says when they gather around you. "Y/N is in charge of this exercise, so when you want. They all are yours." She smiled, stepping aside and walking behind the group.

Clearing your throat, you instructed them to step out of the box. With the ball in your hands, you call Alexia's name.

"I'm sorry to always start with you." You say when she steps towards you.

Alexia dismissed it, reassuring you that she prefers it that way.

"Okay. Please Cata, go to the goal." You ask gently, putting the ball on the white dot. "Don't shoot until I tell you." You see how Alexia nods, unaware of what you have in mind.

You walk towards Natalia and grab her wrist, stepping a few centimetres away from Alexia. You lean and whisper only for Natalia to hear what you are going to do, when she nods, you cross your arms and fix your eyes on the player.

"Do you think she can score?" You comment in a low voice, but enough for Alexia to hear. After seeing Alexia's eyebrow twitch, you look at Natalia. "What if she misses it?"

Alexia bites the inside of her cheek, removing her gaze from you. The hands on her hip tighten, hearing Natalia comments back at you.

"We can change the one to shoot the penalty." Natalia says back, shrugging.

Alexia could feel you approaching, only looking at you when she notices her eyes on her. She raises an eyebrow, her jaw very tight for what she heard. The midfielder is getting annoyed by the seconds you keep looking at her, the whisper behind her didn't help.

"Shoot." You simply say, stepping aside.

Cata puts on position, eyes focusing on her teammate and tries to guess the possibilities she has to stop the ball. However, she didn't need to move from the spot because Alexia missed it.

Biting her lip hard, Alexia lowered her head. She didn't want to look at you, not after what happened. You bring a hand briefly on her shoulder to bring her attention towards you, but she didn't look at you, still you know you have her attention.

"What bothers you more? The comments or that I stayed looking at you?" Her hazel eyes were raised from her shoes and fixed in you. Alexia processed what you questioned her, and after meditating she whispered the truth.

"Both, mainly the staring part." Alexia whispered, licking her lips.

You nod, putting in front of Alexia. "Close your eyes." You gently whisper. The captain thinks of paying you attention, but she does it. "Now, think in your family. Your friends, your mother..." Alexia is not understanding the sense of this, but once again she obligated herself and scratched her mind for moments with them. "Think on the dumbest but meaningful detail that brings you happiness, that every moment it shows in your head, you smile." In her mind came immediately one, the one she treasured for herself on her lowest moments or when she values what she archived. Blinking weakly, Alexia's eyes become watery and nod with her head towards you. "Got it? Okay, take another try." You give her a lipped smile and quickly, you step towards Cata to whisper something and pick the ball up on your way back, positioning it for Alexia.

If the occasion was different, the Catalan would put the ball like she wanted, but not now. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, opening them with the memory in her mind. Alexia makes a run and shoots the ball hard to the right corner, smiling proudly when the sound of the net resounds around them.

No one says anything, maybe because you told them to make any sound. You ask her if she wants to try again and Alexia nods, doing the exact same thing you instructed, this time her teammates cheer loudly when she scores.

You pat her shoulder friendly and tell her to come back with them. With the ball under your foot, you see how Alexia is being cuddled by them. "Before we continue with this, I want to clarify some things." You start when they bring their attention to you again. "I'm going to bring up some topics that I think would hurt you or it stings. I'm not a psychologist, so please, you are free to not answer me or tell me that you don't prefer to share it here with us, but keep it in mind. We want to help you, and we have a phenomenal psychologist that would gladly help you."

After a pause, you keep talking. "I'm going to bring topics from clubs like national teams too. What I did with your teammate is what I think she struggles when she needs to take a penalty, I try my best to help you to take penalties without your mind interfering. Salma, you are next sorry."

Some of them chuckle, Salma stepping towards you with a lipped smile and positioning next to you. She put both hands behind her back, brown eyes focusing on you.

"Do you feel like you are the best of the team?" You ask, not in a provoking tone or trying to mock her, it's just a calm question.

Salma frowns and shakes her head. "No." She answers you immediately.

Licking your lips, you nod with your head for the answer. "Well, I do think that you are one of the best. A player that —collectively— won almost everything. How old are you?"

You see how the striker blushes. "I'm 22." She clears her throat, tilting her head in your direction.

"It's not bad if you believe you are a good player, Salma. You archived a lot for a young age and it's so admirable." You comment, your voice sounding sincere. Salma keeps smiling, muttering a thank you to your way. "Do you feel pressed against Brazil's match?"

That question takes her off-guard, the air changes around them with that one. Salma looks briefly behind her shoulder and sees some of her teammates uncomfortable. Looking at you back, the brunette nods.

"I did." Salma confess. It isn't necessary for you to explain which match you are recalling, they vividly remember that fateful match.

"Even if there were ten more players, you felt alone?" You questioned, Salma below her head and nod. "They leave a young player to save them." Your comment makes Salma bite the inside of her cheek hard. "If you score, you were an amazing player and the saviour but if you lose..." You trailed off, walking slowly in circles. "Do you want to take the penalty?" You ask casually, leaving the conversation aside and like nothing suggesting that.

Salma raised her head and alternated her gaze between you and the ball. She nods, but she is afraid it looks like an unsure gesture. Taking a breath, she waits for you. You whistle and Salma takes a run, missing massively the shot. She feels embarrassed, the ball didn't reach the goal and got lost to the other empty pitch.

There is silence, and somehow Salma feels it is worse than any fun comment.

"No need to be embarrassed about it." You approach Salma, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Once again, I'm not a psychologist, I'm going to repeat it many times because it's the truth. Do you know because I chose Alexia first?" You ask her, Salma shakes her head. "Because I know what she fears or I least, an intuition about what it is. Alexia feels uncomfortable when people fix their eyes on her, I only spent one minute looking at her and I'm sure she felt like an eternity, maybe that same people would say that she would be used to this type of thing, and the truth is that she is human. About the comments... They wouldn't hurt more than what you tell yourself." You pause, looking through the group. "Why did she score when I calm her? Because she holds onto a memory that makes her happy. She has been criticized for the recent penalties she took in charge and I know she practiced them, and I know that after this training Alexia would practice them but in a different manner that maybe make it work when in a match, she takes a penalty." You explain the best you could, eyes only on Salma. "Close your eyes."

Salma does what you said, feeling a shadow in front of her. After a pause, you talk again. "Sea or mountain?"

"Sea." Salma says immediately, not understanding why you ask but didn't question anything.

"Of course, my bad." You see how Salma relaxes her features, a soft small smile on her lips. You type something in your phone and curse yourself when a spot approaches when you press on the relaxing sound. "Okay, listen to it." You put the phone close to her ear, the soft sound of the waves is the only noise around you. You are like that for a few minutes until another spot show and some snort were heard. "I want you to pretend that you are on the shoreline, and your problems stay there. You would resolve them at the right time, you would fall and stand up or just keep walking because you are strong. If you miss a penalty, that's okay. You would come back. You know how long it takes when the referee whistles for it, in that time your mind puts you in the worse place sometimes. When it happens, you close your eyes and think about anything that calms you. Your family, friends, your teammates, when Patri trips because she is awkward..." A soft hey was heard behind Salma, you see how the tall brunette slipped a wide smile. "Think about the exercise I put in the other day, when you were blindfolded and your teammate guided you. They have your back, Salma. Remember that always." You finished saying, not removing the phone from her ear. She keeps her eyes closed and maintained like that until she feels ready, there are emotions in her eyes when she opens them.

When she nods, you save your phone in your pocket and nod towards Cata, smiling when Salma shoots the ball inside of the goal in an unstoppable way.

Clapping, Salma repeats the penalty and comes back with the group.

You decide to light the mood a little, Natalia winking in your direction when you meet her eyes. Walking towards them, you put a hand above Claudia's head and start to make a sound with your mouth, walking slowly while you keep your hand up and pass their heads. You decide to stop between Kika and Vicky, the sound you are making intensifying between these two until you leave your hand above Kika's head.

Kika pushes Vicky jokingly when this one mocks her, the Portuguese stepping towards the box.

"Don't worry, Cata. You are going to do it too, but another day." You point towards the goal, seeing a smirk from the Balear towards your direction with a thumbs up. "Can I call you Kikinha?" You ask her, your Basque accent showing up. Kika giggles but nods with her head. "How are you?"

"I'm good. And you?" Kika asks back, her smile never fading.

"I'm good, thanks." You sit down on the ball and write something in the paper, looking up to see Kika looking down at you from where she is standing. "How many times do you smile when you say you are good, but in reality you aren't feeling good?" With that, Kika changes her gesture, the smile going out slowly. She clears her throat and shrugs, but never removes her eyes from you. "And when your injury removed you from the pitch out of the season and made you lose the Euros?"

It's there when Kika moves on the spot uncomfortable, hands behind her back and eyes looking behind you. "Many times." She says after a few minutes, the voice sounds small and hurt.

"Do you think you deserve that injury?" Ask that make you feel a little uncomfortable, but you promised yourself to give her a big hug and an apology. Kika shakes her head, tilting her head when she looks at you again. "I think you deserve it." Kika's eyes look at you very hurt, even if you aren't looking at the rest of the team, you feel how they are holding their breath and the death glares you are receiving from some of them. "It makes you stronger, a reason to come back and show us what you are capable of doing. To win with them the Champions League while you are playing and not watching from the stands, to be grateful to them for being there in your lowest moments, for the anecdotes created and for many other reasons. I know there are many tears for that injury, it's the worst for a player. I wish you didn't go through it, but embrace that experience and learn. You can do that and many more, Kika. I'm sure you are going to win everything you propose, you would go to the Euros, win the Champions League, go to the World Cup, win the league —again— and be the top scorer. I know you would do it. But embrace that scar, forgive it and move on. You are a player that could handle that and more. Keep fighting."

Some tears slipped from her eyes, Kika took both hands to her cheeks and wiped them. You stand up and walk towards her, giving a hug to reassure her that it's okay. You whisper an apology, Kika smiles again and shakes her head dismissing it, hugging you back.

"You know what to do?" You ask her when you are separated, pointing to the ball.

Kika nods and after taking a breath, you whistle when you see she is ready and Kika hides the ball inside of the goal, letting out a scream for that. You laugh quietly when she jumps on your back, throwing her fist in the air looking at their teammates.

"There are two left... And I'm selfishly right now and I'm going to call Ingrid." You let them know when Kika joins them, the Norwegian walks next to you with some surprise on her face. Mapi comments loudly to you to be careful, you give her a thumbs up while Ingrid gives a warning look. "Do you want to know what I said to Natalia about you?" Ingrid nods her head unsure, sharing a look with the coach and looking you back. "If you aren't going to count on her, do us a favour and transfer her." You know what those words sound out loud, the change in her facial expression is enough for you to clarify. "Because it would piss me off if this player didn't play what she deserves." You add, now seeing how Ingrid leaves out a nervous laugh, a soft blush on her cheeks. "It's true Ingrid, you are a good player and you are benched. You show us what you are capable of for a long time... Still, it amazes me that you remain here. I don't judge your reasons... but you deserve to be playing and not being bench, like other teammates you have."

Ingrid is speechless, not finding words to say out loud. She looks at her hands, it's been awhile —not counting her teammates or family— that someone reassures her potential.

"Personally I like it more when you play like a defender, what a discovery." You comment, not wasting time to let her know. "The team that has you, would gain an amazing and kind player, who cares about the people around her, make them feel be seen and don't let anyone alone. Want to try it?" You finished.

The tall brunette nods a few seconds later, recovering from the words you say. After she scores, she approaches you and kindly gives you a hug, squeezing your arm when she separated.

"And the last one... Who wants to be treated badly for me?" You ask loudly, making them laugh but no one makes a move. You wandered through them and walked straight towards Irene, the veteran player rolled her eyes but followed you. "I know you want to kick my ass."

Irene smirks, not denying your comment. You felt her gaze on you the entire time you shared with the young players.

"How angry you get at me when I tell those things?" You ask, tilting your head.

The defender snorts quietly, hands behind her back. "You resolved it very well, but I almost jumped up a few times." She honestly says, her answer makes you nod with your head and smile.

You don't wait for another reaction from her.

"How old were you when they didn't count anymore with Veronica Boquete?" You ask carefully, witnessing the surprise approaching on her face. The tall defender doesn't seem uncomfortable, maybe because the last thing she waited for was for you to ask that. "You can't answer me if you think it's personal." You let her know, reminding that it's not obligatory.

Irene swallows, looking at some of her teammates and shaking her head, she tells you that it's okay.

"It happened in 2017... I was 26 years old." Irene thinks loudly.

You make a pause, thinking what you would say next. You throw the paper alongside the pen to the pitch and step in front of her, you can see she finds some relief when you hide part of the sun hitting her figure.

"It surprised me that you live every scandal that happens in the national team... And it makes me realise that you have always been taking care of the youngest players." When you start, you try your best to be careful with your tone of voice, after all it's a hard and delicate topic. "You were that young but neither was that old... But you stay and people like Alexia —sorry!—" you interrupt yourself to bring Alexia's name again, the captain shakes her head softly, features relaxing when she meets your face. "like many other younger players, you don't want to leave them because you know what happened there. Then, —I'm not going to name him— once again it's happening, different things but still it is a strong situation that makes you stay to fight for, but mainly to protect the younger players. Because you know you couldn't live with you if you stop going to the national team and leave them around bad people. So when everything explodes, before the World Cup, you decide to receive every hit coming your way and letting them call you a niñata and many more bad words for speak up and ask for your right. You risked not going to the —possible— your last World Cup."

The tall defender shifted her posture, her jaw is clenched when you finished speaking. You guess she is someone who hides very well her feelings, but one looks to her eyes and you notice the pain on them.

"What happens if..." You take a look to see a young player to name. "Jana for example, experienced everything you lived with her age? She is younger than you when the first scandal happened. Imagine that there is no one who cares, then someone like Vero comes and they stop convocating her because she raised her voice. Jana is alone. What is the first thing that came to your mind?"

You see how Irene turns her hands into a fist, now both arms falling to her sides. She takes a long look behind her, you didn't look but assume she is looking at Jana.

Then, Irene turns to look at you slowly. "Then, they ruined someone innocent and kind." Her voice is lower, but everyone there could hear her clearly.

You leave the silence envelope for a few minutes.

"I'm glad they have you, Irene. Someone who cares about them, no matter the age they are, you would always check on them. They have you. But... Who cares about you? Who looks for you like you do with them?"

Your last two questions make her remain quiet, her breath stuck on her throat and she gives a weak shrug. She knows that she has people who look for her, but right now she feels lost.

"I do." Alexia breaks the silence, voice firm.

You smile. It's what you are waiting for. You wanted Irene to hear it from the people she trusts.

"Me too." Aitana and Mapi say at the same time.

It is followed by the rest of them.

Irene smiles weakly, an appreciative one.

"Jana, can you come here please?" The young player walks towards you, not without giving Irene a short hug, who chuckles quietly and rubs her head affectionately. You guide Jana in front of Irene and put both hands on her shoulders, your head showing behind her. "Imagine she is your young version. What would you tell yourself?" After saying that, you remove yourself from there and give them some space.

"A shorty version!" Claudia interjects, making them laugh, gaining herself a mock reply from Jana.

After a moment, Irene takes a breath and closes her eyes. Opening them, Irene cleared her throat and started to speak. "I'm not good at this, but I'll try." She pauses. "I want to tell you that the journey is beautiful, but also hard. You would love everything that happens in your career, every person you will meet, every friend that until today they are supporting you... You are strong, but it didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt you. Sometimes you will wish to change things, things that you innocently would fight for and they wouldn't listen to you. But then, you wouldn't look so crazy when someone else joined you. They will help you, just like you will help them. Win didn't mean you will be unharmed. Still, me and you know that we wouldn't change our journey and live all of this over again if it means changes. Changes for your teammates, for the ones who would come in the future, for the one who is watching us and be a referent because now, they have a female football player to watch and be like us... I'm proud of you."

You blink a few times and start to clap, the others following you and joining on the hug when Jana throws to Irene's arms.

"I thought you would teach them how to take penalties." Natalia came to your side, laughing quietly next to you. You shake your head, smiling for her teasing comment. She is aware of what would happen here, you comment in a reunion with her and she agrees. You didn't know why. "Okay! You all can leave now, see you tomorrow!"

•••

The first match of the Champions League was in the city's rival, the atmosphere was charged with new energy and hopes.

After what happened with the penalties session, the players brought it to comment on what happened there. They all agree on something, you are someone very different from all the coaches they had. Aitana listened to them in silence in the changing room, the loud voices giving their opinion on you. She listens to Kika say happily that she likes you, some of them agreeing with the Portuguese. Alexia was like her, changing her training clothes and listening to them quietly. Aitana could have a few different opinions, but she agrees that your words have a meaning, and maybe the method is what she didn't like too much, but the result? It's amazing. She saw herself hiding behind her teammates every moment you chose someone to... Heal? She didn't know how to classify that session, but somehow listened to how you cared, it's impressive.

After that, they didn't have another exercise where you led them. They focused on the opposing team, studying the pages you put effort making them. The players seem very interested in sharing the tips you gave, the comment below to the name's player, some tactics that would work with a possible connection. However, during the training you approached Frido and remained by her side, sometimes they found out you were keeping training after Natalia put an end.

They won the match by seven goals, and even mathematically they are going to pass, they didn't take for granted and keep their minds that everything could happen and they are going to do all the possible to win on the second leg.

Ingrid seems very excited to go training, the start of this preseason feels very different and welcoming. She played the last game the whole second half and felt very happy for how she played. The day of recovery after that match, you approached the group in the meeting room when you gave them the new pages to study. Natalia clapped her hands to call their attention and ask to have their attention on you, who wanted to explain something.

"I have been thinking about doing this and after commenting on it with Natalia, I would like to communicate with you mostly because if you all agree, I need to prepare it with time." You start, walking to the desk. You throw the pen there and walk to be in the middle. "Since this weekend we are free of playing matches, I thought to do a gincana. Would you like it?"

There is an immediate reply, they all cheered and yelled an affirmative. Well, all of them no. Alexia seems content by it but it's not buzzing like the major part of the team, Aitana for once her loudness is quiet but the idea sounds good to her and then, Caro seems chill about it like Ewa and Esmee.

"There would be a reward at the end. I will explain everything there, okay?" You inform them, when they hear the reward word, the room becomes wild.

Irene seems very happy to do the obstacle course when the day arrives. She makes a bet with Patri and Mapi on who will win from all of them. Alexia seems excited too, her competitive side showing on the bus ride to the place.

The morning went like total chaos, but it was filled with laughs. The moment they do the teams, the staff members leave it to you and Natalia. So you decided to write their names and chose the one you read out loud. The competitiveness is getting high with every new obstacle, when some of them win they show it on their faces.

When it is over, you call for their attention. "I asked them to hide letters around this place. So in pairs, we will search for them. Hear me out, please! You only need to pick a letter, then you come here and wait for the rest. Don't worry, you all have a letter. The red ones are for us! I need a difference between the players and the staff team." You explain. "Before you start to choose, I'll do it first! I'm going with Aitana." You give a lipped smile to the Catalan midfielder. You barely have contact today with her, since the brunette was on the opposite team.

"I wanted to be paired with you!" Patri whined, making you blush but laughed a little at her reaction.

Once they are all paired, you parted ways from them. The silence wrapping around you and Aitana, who walk next to you but leave a distance. You can hear some of them who are close, their chat and laugh floating around.

"That bad I am?" You joke, when there aren't more sounds than the birds chirping around you and your steps the branches under your feet. Aitana seems taken aback by your question, letting out a nervous chuckle seconds later. "I'm kidding, but I noticed that you aren't that content with my job since the first day when I put you alone to defend... Sorry about that, I just want to study some movements with the defensive line." You explain while you keep walking, stepping up to start a steep way.

Aitana nods to herself because she realises you can't see her. Jana and Ingrid explained it to her when she let out her frustration when the exercise was over, still she felt some remorse towards you the next few days after that happened.

"It's okay, you have your reasons..." Aitana muttered behind you, looking carefully at the steep. "I'm sorry too." She didn't give an explanation of why she feels sorry, simply Aitana wanted to do it for her behaviour that day. And because she has been avoiding you since then, looking at you in the shadows and having her own judgement watching you those days.

You stop briefly to look at her and give a small smile, keeping walking when Aitana awkwardly reciprocates that gesture. The brunette could feel how her phone was buzzing on her shorts pocket, probably some of them found the letter and are letting them know or maybe they are wanting to be annoying, both options work for the midfielder.

Then, when once again they are walking in silence, their little peace seems interrupted by Kika's squeal. It makes the pair look at each other and before they choose what to do, Kika and Esmee approach at the end of the steep laughing at something they only know.

"Well, well, well... The grandmothers are joining us." Kika teases them, still she extends a hand in your way to help you. Her laugh floats around you when Aitana tells her to not call her like that with a deep frown. "That's all the help you are going to obtain from us, see you down losers." Then, she winks at your way and locks her arm with Esmee's and walks out of your sight.

Aitana muttered something under her breath and put a hand in your lower back momentarily while telling you to keep going, now taking the lead.

They are looking everywhere in search of the letters, a distinct colour from the green and brown from that place. A small scowl installed in Aitana's face when time passed and they didn't see anything, she is sure that they would be the last ones to obtain a letter, if magically there is at least one at the top of this area. Sighing, Aitana feels small taps on her arm and when she turns to look at you, you are pointing with a finger to the big trunk in front of you, looking carefully Aitana could see a yellow tone in one of some cracks it has. Her features softened and shared a glare with you accompanied by a grin, stepping towards the big tree and picking it up, putting the piece of paper in your hands.

To Aitana's surprise, the moment they stepped down to join the people who found the letter, there were half of the team there, there other half are missing and scattered over there to find the letter. She finds herself waiting for them not far away from you, after all you are her partner for this exercise. While you are talking enthusiastically with Claudia and Ona, Aitana sees how Alexia comes with an annoying face with Patri behind her, Natalia and Irene sharing a laugh between them. Aitana guesses that Alexia didn't like this activity so much.

Soon the rest of the team came and you walked up, Natalia following you with the rest of the staff team.

"Please, give me the red letters and I'll give the yellow ones for you." You ask, sharing the red ones with her fellow team when they handed them to her. "Okay, first of all no one knows what it is. So if you need to blame someone, it's me." You say, seeing some faces not agreeing with what you are implying. "You are the first Natalia, open the letter."

Natalia carefully opened the letter and brought out what it was hiding, her curiosity going out the moment she read it. "Absolutely no!" She comments looking at you, a small shadow of red on her cheeks. "I'm not going to do it." She states firmly, pointing a finger in your direction.

You giggle by her reaction, the whisper of the players getting loud and questioning their coach what it is.

"Dancing Queen by ABBA." Natalia read out loud, shaking her head to emphasise that she is not going to do that.

The group burst out laughing, some letting out some teasing comments and cheering for Natalia to do it.

"Can I open mine?" Kika asks like a child, face with hope to find out what it is inside. You nod and watch how Kika read out loud jumping on her spot very happy. "Black by Pearl Jam!"

Then, they proceeded to open their letters with your confirmation. There are different reactions to it, some not agreeing with the song and others with their open mouth for what they read, still they seem very glad when you comment that they can change the song of joining someone else to sing.

"I'm not going to sing." Alexia breaks the enthusiasm of her teammates, making some of them groan for her comment. Her hazel eyes come back to read what she has on her hands. "I'm not doing this." She says more firm this time, a soft blush approaching on her cheeks but her gaze is letting you know that she is not going to do it.

Some boo are heard after, Alexia didn't seem bothered by that.

"Everyone is going to sing. I'm singing too, Alexia. And believe me when I tell you that I'm drowning only thinking about it." You speak up, interrupting the small reactions.

Alexia shakes her head. "I'm not going to sing." She repeats.

You stay looking at her, an idea forming in your head. "If you don't laugh any time that day when we sing, you include, I let you choose the exercise and without complaining we all will do it." You suggest, hiding your smile when you see how Alexia is thinking about your words longer than you think.

"Deal." Alexia muttered, extending her hand towards you to seal the deal.

Smiling, you stretch her hand.

You come back next to Natalia to convince her to sing, telling that you would sing together.

Alexia looks dreadful about what she needs to sing, Nero Gotico by Clara.

She didn't even know how this person was.

•••

Letting out the hundredth sigh that day, Alexia sits down on the chair in the backyard where the improvised scenario is in front of her. They all are wearing casual clothes, a different change of what usually they wear on their daily day. They haven't seen any trace of you since they came to Natalia's house, who offered to host the small karaoke.

"You look beautiful tonight, capi." Ona approaches in front of the Catalan midfielder, a knowing smirk on her lips.

Alexia rolls her eyes, ignoring the small laugh around her from some of them. Patri shows behind the full back player, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ready?" Patri asks, sitting a row up from her.

"Yes." Alexia says shortly.

Fortunately for her, she could change the song with Giulia since the song is in Italian. Truth be told, Alexia blushed a lot when she put the videoclip on YouTube and saw the singer.

Aitana walks towards them with a drink on her hand, sipping from it the moment she sits down next to Mapi. She didn't know why she was here and why she would sing, but something inside her wanted to know what would happen tonight. Ignoring the conversation that the defender is having with Marta, who gladly came to cheer for her chill girlfriend, and her eyes wandered around until she saw you walking in with Natalia and Hector by your side, her hand stayed in mid air holding the glass while she fixed her eyes on you.

Blinking, Aitana heard how some of them start to whistle when they see you. Claudia makes a comment about she being single, only for you to shake your head smiling after hugging her. They are seeing you with different clothes and it's making Aitana very difficult to pay attention to.

You greet all of them when you approach the small stage, you start to explain that you and Natalia would start the show and then, since it's her idea you would mark the order.

They have an idea of why you two aren't singers, still Aitana feels looking at you with tenderness. To her eyes, you look cute with your red cheeks and when you misspell some words. Some of them are standing up and dancing together, cheering and loudly joining the song.

Alexia is trying hard to not show a smile with the show you two are making. Kika, Jana, Vicky, Salma and Bruna are dancing in the empty space in the backyard, some of them are recording.

Once it is over, you bend down briefly and side hug Natalia, thanking them while chanting your names. You call Ona to go to the stage, the Catalan accepts the microphone you tend at her.

The evening went smoothly, the majority of them were giving everything in every song, a chorus that no one asked but they accompanied the ones who are on the stage. Ingrid and Mapi are the last ones, the Aragonese with sunglasses pretending to be a real singer, making a dance that Ingrid joined in some parts shyly.

Then, they cover the empty space with a large table and sit down to have dinner. Alexia is more relaxed, the deal she made with you broke the moment Claudia sang a Spice Girl's song, including a choreography that made Alexia fail to not laugh. Patri records her reaction to have proof and show you, internally sighing relief because they would be free from the exercise Alexia would put on them.

They see a new version of you tonight, a goofy and calmer side. The days that you share with them make you open and relax around them, joining the teasing with Cata and Claudia or answering some uncomfortable questions that Mapi and some more are doing and being stopped by Alexia and Natalia.

"Why did you make this?" Alexia asked you once the party started, sitting in the empty chair next to you.

You paint a tiny smirk, watching the improvised dance that some of them are doing.

"To have fun." You reply, shrugging casually.

Alexia stays looking at you suspiciously, studying you while you give a sip to your drink. "The real reason." She says in a tone of voice where she didn't believe you.

You remained quiet for a moment, then turned to look at her. "To spend a good time, to loosen up a bit and know you all a little more. For you all to know me a little too, in a different environment than football..." You say, trailing off.

She believes you this time, and your explanation makes her smile genuinely. You are trying to connect with them, even if it means to put yourself in ridiculous. She is aware of your introverted side, she is one of that type too and knows how hard it is with new people.

Alexia has more respect for you.

•••

A month passed.

They are classified to be back in the Champions League and they are started well in the league, winning their two games.

The training becomes hard, but at the end of the day they have different exercises coming from you. They all seem waiting for this moment.

However, what they didn't know is to see you angry. You seem very calm and difficult to be angry or mad. The moment it happened was when Natalia was giving the starting line for the next day in their third match of the league. You were standing next to the coach and your frown deepened when Natalia told the defensive line.

"Can we talk for a moment?" You interrupt her, a hand on her arm. You don't leave her to reply to you, just walking away from the group of players.

Natalia frowned too and excused herself, she walked towards your side.

The players shared a look between them, a confused one. Alexia and Aitana keep their attention on you, they try to read on your face what happened.

"Really? Aren't you going to put her? She shows that she deserves to be in the starting line." You start to say, tightening the hold in your notebook. You see how Natalia relaxed her frown, opening her mouth to talk but you don't leave her. "Jana deserves to be in the starting line, Natalia. She proves to you during training and the matches you put her coming from the bench! Just... Keep that in mind." You say without realising that you raised your voice enough for them to listen to what you said. "If you want to reprimand me, okay. I'll understand." It's the last thing you said before you stormed out from there.

Natalia watches you go out and disappear in the building. Taking a breath, the coach steps towards the group and clearing her throat, resuming the starting line for tomorrow.

When Natalia dissolved the group, Alexia turned to check on Jana. She didn't say anything, just moved an eyebrow asking if she was okay. The defender nods, walking by her side to the changing room. Jana's mind replays the moment where you defended her to be starting for tomorrow's game and a small smile approaches on her face. Ingrid walks to her side and hangs an arm around her shoulders, a calm smile in her direction. Maybe it's a coincidence, but since you came they both feel very sure of themselves, with more conviction.

So before she leaves, Jana walks towards the head coach office and Natalia communicates with her before she asks that you are in the cafeteria. Nodding and saying goodbye, Jana walks towards the place and holds the strap of her gym bag, she steps inside when she sees you.

You leave the pen on top of the table, next to your —almost finished— notebook. Jana pulls off her gym bag and takes a seat next to you, giving you a lipped shy smile.

"Sorry..." You apologised, sighing.

Jana frowns, not letting you finish. "Why? You don't need to apologise." She cuts you, her smile widening. "Maybe it's not the place to say it. Still, I want to say thank you..." She says shyly, playing with her fingers on the top of the table. Her gaze didn't leave your surprise expression. "It motivates me to keep working hard because at the end of the day, there is someone who believes in me and could give me the chance to show what I'm capable of."

You soften your features, and remove a strand of your hair away from your face before you speak. "There are people who believe in you, Jana. Like many other of your teammates. The only thing I can tell you is to keep working hard and fight to gain a spot in the starting line." You say firmly, trying not to give her many hopes because after all, it doesn't depend on you. But letting her know that she has many possibilities of entering if she keeps playing like that.

The brunette nods with her head enthusiastically, surprising you when she throws her arms and wraps them on your neck, giving you a friendly hug. You hug her back awkwardly.

"I think I need to apologise with the coach..." You whisper when you see Natalia walk to the bar after she gives a knowing look.

Jana separated and nudged your side playfully, wishing you luck with a smirk when she stood up and walked away.

•••

Aitana passes her tongue for her teeth while her eyes are on you. You are saving the training things into the room where it belongs, Hector and Victor —the other two staff members— helping you save them inside. The Catalan midfielder starts to walk with Ona to the changing room, but her mind is in you. She didn't know why but felt the urge to turn and walk towards you. However, Aitana shakes her head briefly and paints a smile to whatever Ona is telling her.

Once inside of the changing room, Aitana's movements become slower and without any rush, taking her time until there are only a few of them. She hides a strand of her wet hair behind her ear and stands up, putting on Barcelona's training jersey because outside is doing a cold breeze at this hour. She says goodbye to the ones who remained there and takes a different route when she goes out, her steps taking her to the coach's office.

Before Aitana could retreat herself and turn around, the door opened and you came out, stopping in the entry when you saw her.

"Aitana! Do you want to talk with Natalia? She is still inside...-" you start to say, removing yourself from the entry.

The midfielder shakes her head immediately, muttering that she didn't want to see Natalia. It makes you a little confused, not knowing what Aitana actually wants.

Clearing her throat, Aitana decides to be brave. "I came to talk to you..." She mutters, scratching the back of her neck nervously.

You open your eyes, not waiting to hear that.

"Everything okay?" You ask carefully, stepping a few centimetres towards her.

Aitana nods quickly, wanting the small frown on your face to disappear. "Everything okay, don't worry. I just came to... ask you if you want to hang out sometime...?" Her voice showed her nervousness, mentally cursed herself and wished to have the boldness of some of her teammates.

You opened your eyes briefly, lowering them to the floor processing what Aitana asked you. When you look at her back, she is biting her lip waiting for an answer, her brown eyes move around avoiding you.

It's weird for you to see this side of hers, someone who always sees confidence in herself.

"With the team...?" You ask unsure, putting your bag on one shoulder and closing the door behind you.

"No, with me." Aitana explained. "I would like to know you a little more outside of here..."

In your face showed a small smile, seeing the red welcoming on Aitana's cheeks. "Okay. When?" You say softly, her brown eyes opening.

Once again Aitana clears her throat, recovering from the surprise of your confirmation. "If you want I can invite you now and go to a cafeteria."

Shrugging, you nod. "And I thought you didn't like me..." You comment, starting to walk by her side.

Aitana blushes but frowns.

•••

Taking a breath, you close your eyes while you hold the paper in your hands. Opening them, you see their faces looking at you with a small teasing expression.

You look at Natalia, who rolled her eyes and made a move with head for you to start.

"Okay. First of all, I'm sorry. If it is for me, I would put you all...-" You hear how Natalia snorts by your side, interrupting you.

"Do you girls feel it's her first starting line, do you?" Natalia asks loudly, only for them to share a small laugh.

You roll your eyes, but look at your paper and read the names in your mind.

"Alright! Formation the same, 4-3-3 contention. The players who are going to start tomorrow are: Cata, Ona, Jana, Ingrid and Esmee in the defensive line, midfielders: Alexia, Dragoni and pivot Patri. The three lined up are: Graham, Kika and Frido." You read the names, raising your eyes once you are finished.

They are silent, some are speaking with their eyes between them but soon smiles are approaching on their faces. You look at Aitana, who is biting her lip and lightly nod with her head.

You know how competitive they are, especially Aitana and Alexia. You are afraid of the brunette because you left her out of the starting line.

You would lead them to the next game because Natalia received a red card in the last match, making you assume the bench in the next one. And literally. She asks you to choose the starting line, reassuring you when you give her a panic expression.

So you made it, you barely slept last night studying who to put in this match. You take care of the details, leaving some of them to rest and play in the second half, knowing that three days later there is the first match of the Champions League.

The next day Natalia gives you a calm speech, reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. Before the game starts, you explain the strategy again and nervously but firmly, you give them encouraging words and stay in the entry when they come out, giving a pat on their backs.

There was no goal in the first half, but probably it is the best game they played in a long time. The style Natalia has implemented since she came, shows up entirely in these 45th minutes.

You applauded and screams encouragement words when Jana was alone and stopped the rival forward in a clean entry when she threw down, sending the ball to Patri. With Frido you didn't know how she still didn't score, the Swedish is destabilising the opponent easily, the only fail she had is not to send the ball into the goal. The rest of the team showed them how much they cared about the ball, the connection on their passes creating magnificent plays.

But the goal comes at the start of the second half, Giulia Dragoni sending the ball inside in a beautiful head goal when Graham puts the ball from the corner.

When you approach Aitana and Vicky from giving them instructions, you see how the ball came out and fall to your box and when you are going to grab it to give to the player from the other team to put on in game, the rival pushes you hard and makes you fall, your head hitting the cool-box.

What you miss is when Aitana runs and pushes the opponent, a scowl on her face while challenging her to do it again. Or when the major part of the players came to her and started to yell at the opponent, Jana, Kika and Ingrid were the loudest. Alexia is the only one who tries to calm them, even if her jaw is clenched and wanted to push her too, she acts like the captain she is and pushes her teammates away.

Irene helps you to stand up, the medical team coming to your rescue and asking you to sit down because you have a small cut in your eyebrow.

When you stand up with their help, you see how the referee shows a yellow card to Aitana after showing it to the other player, the Catalan nods with her head without caring too much, her head turns in your direction and her features soften. You muttered to them you need to give the last indications to the players who could go out and after they press a small bandage for you to hold, you walk towards Aitana and Vicky.

Aitana puts a hand in your lower back briefly, nodding with her head what you are indicating to do and telling their teammates new strategies. You remained there until Esmee and Patri went in, both players asking you how you are. You mutter quickly I'm good and congratulate them for their performance, both players sharing a look and a nod in your direction, soft smiles on their faces. They shake hands with the rest sitting there and take a seat, you walk to the corner and raise your head to Natalia to hear what she is telling you from the stands.

Your eyes focus on the pitch when you approach the medical team again, seeing the new change in formation. Now Frido is playing like the left back, letting the position she was playing to Alexia and there isn't a pivot anymore, choosing to put Vicky like a central attacking midfielder, Aitana and Dragoni like midfielders.

With the cut clean and hiding in a new bandage, you stood up with your arms crossed watching the game develop, shouting things at them to fix small mistakes. You see how Frido steals the ball from the opponents' feet near the corner of her own side, in a brilliant auto pass the Swedish player ran with the ball the whole band, passing it to Alexia. The Catalan raised her head enough to give an intelligent pass through the defenders when she sees Aitana run out of her mark, the brunette shoots the ball in the first touch and sends the ball inside of the goal.

Raising your hands up, you call for Salma, Mapi and Bruna. You decided to make your last three changes now, a perfect time to let them play and the other to have some rest. Giving the three players indications, the three players go out when the referee indicates after a play where the ball runs to the sideline. Alexia, Graham and Ona came in, stretching your hand briefly. You see how Alexia has a neutral expression, you know that she wanted to keep playing because they are in the perfect moment to score more, but hopefully you wish she sees what you did for her own good in the future.

When the match is over, you read on the screen of the stadium how Barcelona won the match with three goals and any in con.

You leave out a relief sigh that you didn't know you were holding.

•••

"Are you mad at me?" You questioned in a small voice, watching how the stadium is getting empty slowly.

Aitana turns with the bottle in her hand, hiding a smirk. She takes a long sip, shaking the hand of a player when she approaches, you do it too.

"Why? For you to care about us?" She asks rhetorically, giving another sip from her bottle. Now she leaves a small laugh for your face. "You have your reasons for choosing that starting line, you don't need to give me any explanation." Aitana says softly, stepping closer to you. "It worked." She whispered.

You shrug, feeling a little better. "What a goal." You say, tilting your head with a soft smile. You don't need to explain too much, it's obvious what goal you are referring to.

"I pushed the ball, it's mainly Alexia's." She shrugs too, bumping her shoulder with yours copying your smile. "Better now it's over?" Her voice is gentle like the gaze she is giving you.

You chuckle, but nod with your head.

"Do you want to go have lunch together?" Aitana asks you, biting her lower lip. Her voice is a whisper, a bold impulse hoping you agree with her proposal.

You notice how close you are from her, the small freckles on the bridge of her nose like on her cheeks, small constellations from the corner of her mouth to her chin and near of her left ear. You decided to stop scanning her face, and slowly you nod with your head, seeing how her smile got wide.

"Wait for me?" When you nod with your head, she excused herself to take a quick shower and run inside, making you laugh quietly for her behaviour.

***

The next day feels awkward for you during training. Fortunately for you Natalia takes full charge of the exercises that day and you only remain behind and comment quietly to her or some of them, but not exchanging any word with any player.

You could feel her gaze, but you don't dare to look in her direction. You know she didn't have any fault, still she is the reason why you question many things.

Too deep in your mind when the training is over, you don't notice the people approaching you, only the light tap on your shoulder that makes you jump.

"Everything okay?" Ona asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, stammering you are good.

"We came to ask you if you want to come to bond night with us." Jana informs you, her usual smile showing up.

You frown confused. "Really? It's not only for players?" You ask unsure, pressuring your new notebook against your stomach.

They shared a laugh, explaining briefly that it is but sometimes there are exceptions if for example they have a young staff member in the team. You roll your eyes when they give you teasing stares.

You look behind their backs and see how Aitana is sneaking glances towards your way, moving her head to the side when your eyes collide.

"Okay." You agree, making them jump on you and ignoring your awkward hug.

Later that day, Alexia is who offered to pick you up. Her expression turned into a surprise one when she saw you, you asked if you looked bad while taking a look at yourself.

"You look great! It's weird seeing you like... This." Alexia explains quickly, a small blush on her cheeks for her reaction.

You smirk and pinch her red cheek, laughing when Alexia pushes your hand away and muttered under her breath that you spend too much time with the youngest of the team. The ride to Ona's flat is with small conversations with the radio in the background, you can feel how her gaze is softer every time she looks at you and you ask yourself if she notices the reason behind.

Once in Ona's flat, there are a few of them already there. The defender greets you happily and makes a comment about your outfit, eyes going up and down only for you to smack her hand on her arm playfully. It didn't end there because the ones there whistle when they see you, Salma taking your hand with hers and making you swirl in the spot.

Alexia came to your rescue and pushed Patri away, making you sit down next to her at the exact moment Aitana got inside of the living room. Like a magnet, her brown eyes find yours while she keeps talking to someone else. Kika puts herself in front of you and breaks the eye contact with the midfielder.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" The Portuguese ask in a charming tone, sitting next to you.

Alexia scolds her gently while Jana shares a laugh with Claudia, making fun of their friend. You blush but chuckle when the forward wraps an arm around your shoulders, pouting in Alexia's direction. Frido approached you and offered a snack, complimenting you with a wink when she walked to another part.

"When are we gonna take penalties again?" Kika asks, pinching your cheek softly.

Some of them agree with her, very interested in your answer.

"Do you want to do it again?" You tease her, chuckling.

"No, but I want to watch these ones cry." She teases back playfully, giving them a look.

They give her a sarcastic smile, Jana pushes her softly and Kika dramatically leaves her body falling into you. Friendly, you wrap an arm around her shoulders and laugh when she pretends to be enchanted by it.

Then, your eyes meet Aitana's again and slowly you remove your arm from Kika's shoulders. It's interrupted again when Mapi leaves a squeal and puts herself in front of you, whistling suggestive while her eyes scan you.

The rest of the evening is plagued with laughter and games board. You are paired with Jana when this one grabs your arm and pulls you towards her, smiling innocently to your way. You are surprised to see Alexia discuss with some because she thinks they cheat and that's the reason Alexia and Irene lost, frowning she threatened them to play one last time with the new change of game. Patri tries to be a barista and make them drinks, pushing Jana away and sitting in her place giving you a drink, smiling charmingly.

"You don't need to be so nice to me, Patri. You are my favourite player already, I thought I made it clear in training." You say, holding your laugh.

Snorts mixed with protests were heard behind Patri, the midfielder gives them a satisfying smirk while learning her back on the couch, arm spreading out behind you.

At some point when you are out on the balcony with Ingrid and Esmee, Alexia calls you and takes you to an empty area.

"What happened with Aitana?"

Her direct question makes you nervous, advertising your gaze from her. You heard how she sighed, putting a hand in your arm carefully.

"I noticed that there is tension between you two. Not to mention that you acted weird today during training. Something happened?" Alexia explains briefly.

You think if you tell her or no. Letting out a sigh, you move your face to look at her.

"I don't know what happened... It's complicated." You start to say, playing with your fingers. "I think I like her... And it is freaking me out a little. Because I came here to work, in my plans there is nothing other than to help the team, so it's weird." You open up, rubbing your forehead. "We hang out a few times out of the pitch, like friends... But something tells me that what we have is something else."

There is silence, but Alexia started to rub your back gently.

"Sometimes the plan you made didn't turn out like you wanted." Alexia says softly. She didn't say anything more, because she didn't want to overstep.

***

The next day in the changing room, when she entered there Alexia walked directly towards Aitana and took a seat next to her, making the brunette look with expectation at her.

"You seem different this season..." Alexia comments casually, pulling off the training kit and wiping the sweat of her face with it.

Aitana raised an eyebrow, snorting. "And what makes you think like that?"

Alexia smiles knowingly. "You are calmer. Don't look at me like that, you are one of the loudest people of this team." After you communicate to Alexia what happened with her teammate, she stays thinking about Aitana's behaviour and to her mind comes small details.

The midfielder scoffs, standing up. "Maybe I'm matured, you're welcome." She says sarcastically, picking up her things.

Alexia rolled her eyes and grabbed her wrist to stop her. She knows her very well to know that if Aitana didn't deny it, it's because she is right.

"Give her time. She is confused." Alexia lowered her voice.

Aitana looks at her frowning, swallowing hard and she sits down again. Her gaze gets lost on the floor, wondering how Alexia found out.

"I noticed that something happened with you two yesterday and when I asked her last night, she confessed to me that she likes you," Alexia admitted, seeing how Aitana turns her head quickly towards her the moment she confesses that you like her. "Don't tell her anything or I'll kill you." She threatened Aitana. "She is confused, that's all." Saying that, Alexia patted her back gently and walked away.

The days pass and they keep winning, and Aitana gives all the time you need. She didn't approach you, just muttering a greeting to your way and a nod when you instructed her in some drills and exercises. Her gaze remained on you in the distance when you are distracted, in her mind having some answers that maybe she didn't have before.

But today Aitana feels the necessity of being close to you. Looking at you save the things, Aitana tells Patri that she is staying to help you, picking up a bag with balls in a hand and in the other the cones. She walks inside of the room and sees the surprise in your face.

"I want to help you." Aitana rasped out, giving you a tiny smile.

You point out the place where it belongs, scribbling something in the paper in your hand. Aitana leaves the things there and comes out to pick the sticks. Once again you point out the place and Aitana leaves the sticks there, slowly stepping near you while seeing how you sign below.

Raising your head, you feel how close to her you are. The movement of your head makes her copy you, your eyes betray you and look at her parted lips. Your eyes move back to her eyes and something pulls you towards her and leans to press your lips on her.

You separated quickly, opening your mouth to apologise and storm away from there. However, Aitana reacted in time and grabbed your wrist in a soft hold. She cups your cheek with her other hand, leaning slowly towards you and delicately puts her lips on you again. It's a soft pressure against your lips, not rushed, trying to show you how much she wanted this, how much she wants you.

Aitana breaks the kiss but remains close, leaning her forehead on yours. Her thumb started to caress your cheek, she can feel the band hanging on her neck because you started to play with it the moment you encircled your arms on her neck. Her chest is going up and down in a nervous but pleasant way, her eyes fixed on yours when you opened them and an involuntary smile approaches on her face.

"Can I do it again?" Aitana asks in a whisper in your mouth, her other hand flies to your waist.

Retreating your arms from her neck, you put them about her chest and softly nod with your head, meeting her half way when she leaned. You can taste the salty on her lips for the sweat from training, but away from disgusting you, your grip her training kit with your hands and put her closer. Aitana gives some steps making your back hit with the shelves from behind, now both of her hands are gripping your hip firmly while a muffled sound escapes from her mouth where it gets lost on yours.

"I like you too..." Aitana whispers when the kiss is over, smiling widely when she sees your red cheeks and inevitably spreads kisses on them.

•••

"Who's waiting for this? I thought to finish this before the year it's over... So, good luck to the ones who were left in the second round..." You announced, making the ones who did it to share a chuckle. You walk in front of them a few times and try to cheat who you are choosing to start, until you stop and turn to look at her with an innocent smile. "Janaaa... I think I'm starting with you." The young Catalan makes a dramatic expression but follows you, her teammates giving her encouragement words.

December's cold makes you shiver a little and zip up the jacket, your hands are covered by gloves. Fortunately it's a sunny day, so you hopefully will be warm soon.

"I'm not going to say hurtful words to you because I'm afraid of half of the team chasing me after..." You comment making Jana laugh quietly, Natalia snort behind you. "Are you happy?"

Jana nods, a soft smile on her mouth while she keeps watching you.

"I'm glad to know that... I fear what would happen with the team if your happiness turns off..." You start, looking at them briefly before looking back at her. "Do you think that they missed you when you suffered your ACL?"

Your question makes her change her expression, turning into a serious one. "Hopefully..." She tries to light the mood.

"Who helped you the most?"

"Everyone helped me, but if I needed to say a name it would be Bruna and Alexia." Jana mutters, hiding her chin on her sweatshirt.

You nod with your head, deciding to not take too long with her.

"Look Jana, I'm going to be sincere with you." You walk to put yourself in front of her. "I think at this point you don't need to share anything with us because you already share it everyday. You brighten us with your energy, with your constant encouragement and I'm truly glad to meet you. All yours." You move and point to the ball, smiling when Jana side hugs you.

You point towards Patri when Jana scored, the Balear high five with the defender and put herself next to you.

"What would make the best player in the world nervous?" You ask with a hint of teasing, making the group for your confession protest. Patri leaves out a smirk, winking at you. "I have an idea." You start to pace out, playing with the ball between your hands. "Imagine we are in a match, losing it. It's a big stage, one where it didn't matter, you will remember forever. The match is almost over, but then, Ewa tied up and prolongs to extra time. Your team is as tired as you, but this is a hint of hope for you to reach the trophy. It's not your best performance but the coach still believes in you. The extra time is over and it's sent to penalties. It's your turn and you can make a difference here, you are in or out." You specified, watching how Patri nods while hearing you. Clearing your throat, you opted to change your voice and pretend that you are a sport commentator. "And now it's the turn of Patri Guijarro! The best in her position at this moment, the intelligence playing against the physical. Right now she has the power on her feet, if she scored there would be a hope to brush that trophy but if she misses, the team is out. There is no pressure when you have this player, you always count on her! Who is Alexia Putellas? Who is Aitana Bonmatí? I don't know them, I only know the best pivot. I said her name before and I will say it again. Patri Guijarro is getting ready to take the shot of her life!" You are moving around making emphasis with your hands, truly living the moment. You make a gesture for them to create cheering sounds, pretending they are the public. Then, you move your hands to make them stop and the silence installed.

"Take it." You say, moving aside.

You see her doubt, her usual confident demeanor disappearing with every second. She nods, taking a run before her foot connects with the ball and makes it go out. Patri grimace, looking away briefly.

Tilting your head, you approach her. Patri leaves out a sigh, rubbing her face with a hand. "What happened?" You ask in a soft voice.

The Balear shrug, shaking her head. "I don't know... Pressure?" She tries to guess, shrugging again.

"Try again." You say, the warmth of the sun hitting your cold cheeks.

Her eyebrows approach each other, confused. You can see how she is thinking hard, slowly some realisation shows her confused features.

"Is it pressure?" You try to confirm what she said before. Patri moves a hand to the level of her waist, indicating that it is more or less like that. "What else?"

"Comparison." She said in a low voice, crossing her arms on her chest. Her jaw clenched lightly, her gaze on you.

You nod with your head in a thinking manner. "To who?"

There is silence for a few seconds. Patri shifts her posture, eyes lowering briefly before she speaks up; "Aitana and Alexia." She slowly says, looking at you back.

Stepping towards her, you nod again. "It affects you or you don't think too much about it?"

Patri shrugged. "Sometimes... But it's something that I don't mind too much." She admitted.

"Until you think about it properly..." You add carefully. You see how her shoulders got down, hands intertwining behind her back and you are sure she is pocking her skin. "It's okay, Patri. I'm not judging you and I never would do that. I think it's even normal that you feel a little... out of place with them. But I want to remind you that they wouldn't win anything without you, keep that in mind. You are their compass, to them and the rest of the team. Maybe they are the ones who people see more, but people who truly watch, they know about you. Actually, I can't stop hearing how smart and creative you are, one of these people is Alexia. I know you know, but sometimes this one," you tap your forehead. "can be cruel and cheat you. I'm not ashamed to admit loudly that you are one of my favourite players and I have the opportunity to watch you in every training and match. You maybe don't have a Ballon d'or, but you definitely would have one. Vicky Losada said it first, not me!" You finished, making her laugh quietly for your last comment. You see how her usual demeanor is coming back, the serious expression going away and her mischievous one showing up.

With an impressive goal, Patri side hugs you and joins the group.

"Mapiiiii...." You hummed, smirking teasingly to the Aragonese.

The group leaves out a laugh, Mapi walks towards you with the same mischievous personality. She sang your name too, giving you an innocent look.

"What would I mention to make you crack?" You think loudly, watching her smirk in your direction. "What about the national team?" Your voice is teasing, but your gaze softens.

Mapi rolls her eyes, tilting her head aside while her eyes fix on you. "Mismamente." She mutters, her smirk washes out.

The last time you mentioned the national team was for Irene and Caro, you know the topic you are going to touch now is delicate, so you repeat to the defender that it's okay if she didn't want to talk about it.

"I'll be short, promise." You promised when Mapi told you it's okay to talk about it. "Do you think there is a real change inside of the federation?"

"No." Mapi answers you quickly, snorting at the end. "And before you ask why, the changes they made are smaller and maybe it's a step, but for me it's not enough to come back." Her voice sounded firm when she finished, determination on her face.

"You are right." You muttered, you can feel the tension in the air. It didn't surprise you, many of them are in the Spanish national team and they are better than you to know what is happening. "And I am proud of you for keeping fighting for what you believe. You are firm in your position and thank you. Still, it didn't mean that I'm not supporting your teammates because there have many reasons and it is respectable. Come back when you are comfortable and we will enjoy you when it happens, for now: we will enjoy you here."

Mapi gives you a real smile, an appreciative one. She was waiting to hear another thing differently, but she truly appreciates your words.

She takes the penalty with a different sense, feeling lighter. Mapi high fives you when she scored, winking to Aitana when their gazes met.

Sighing, Aitana steps slowly next to you while hearing her teammates chant her name. You give her a sheepish smile, zipping off your jacket because you are feeling a little hot.

Chilling, Aitana crossed her arms. Her eyes become soft the moment they land on you, feeling less nervous. To her mind came the moment when she asked you what would you ask her when this moment would happen, but you just shrug and sat on her lap to kiss her.

"What do you want to talk about?" You ask, stepping next to her.

Aitana shrugs, following with her eyes. The truth is that she can talk about anything with you.

"What about the pressure?"

The brunette bit the inside of her cheek, her heartbeat accelerating. Well, maybe not about everything. Somehow, she didn't like it too much when you read people, because you usually get right.

"When was the last time you felt your chest without heaviness?" You ask directly, witnessing how her features hardened. "Are you afraid to leave people down?"

"That are two questions." Aitana points out in a small voice, the corner of her lips turning up a little. "Which one do I answer first?"

You shrug, muttering at her whatever she wanted to do.

"I'm not afraid to let them down, I'm learning that it's not my fault for the expectation they have on me." Aitana decides to answer your second question, the words her psychologist told her on past meetings coming to her mind. "And... It's hard not to feel pressured, especially if you belong to this team. I'm sure I am not the only one feeling it." Aitana muttered, answering honestly.

You nod, hiding your hands in your pockets. "What impact has on you when the press speaks about your performance or if you are on a good level to play?"

Aitana passes her tongue through her teeth with her mouth closed, the times she read about the lines or heard comments about herself showing on her mind like a trick. She hates how people referred to her like the winner of the Ballon d'Or and not like Aitana, yeah she understands but it didn't mean that she also liked it to hear every time.

"A considerable one." The brunette admitted lowly, pretending that she didn't care too much, when in reality it is the opposite. Aitana is good at taking any type of their opinions, but it is getting hard with the time passing. Somehow, she understands them. "But I try to focus on me and my team, to be better everyday and..." She pauses, thinking the right words. "keep learning. It's all I care about."

You pick up her right hand gently, hoping this gesture could calm her because even if she is hiding perfectly in a neutral expression, you can see how her brown dark eyes become vulnerable.

Aitana leaves out a sigh, not complaining to feel the warmth of your hand on hers. It's an innocent gesture, not showing to the rest what it truly means for you two.

"I can't tell you what to do to handle that pressure," you start to say. "but I can propose to you to think about what good things it brings you. Like how many people you inspire, mainly kids. How you are imbued with your name in football history, how you are breaking statistics and when you retire from this sport and someone named this club, they would remember you like someone who belongs here. I can keep naming things, but what I'm trying to say is you are human, Aitana. And you learn from the winning and when you don't, and keep promoting your law because people like you should be an inspiration, whatever they want to be when they grow up or even if they are an adult." You finished, a fond smile on your face.

The Catalan midfielder pulls from your hand and wraps her strong arms around your body, hiding her crystal eyes from the rest and the urge she feels to thank you with a kiss. She hides her face on your shoulder, trying to think in a good memory like you said to some of them. She was lucky to say that she has many of them, but the best ones are with the team no matter if the club or national teams, they mark her in different ways and the winnings are significant.

Separating from the hug, Aitana squeezed your arm affectionately before she took the penalty with the most lighter sensation she felt in a long time.

You turned to all of them when they gathered together, clapping your gloves hands together.

"The next time we practice penalties it's like you all practiced them. Hopefully this little session helped you in some way and before we close this chapter, I'm going to be the last one to cry." You make at them the peace sign, some chuckle by them were heard.

•••

Tears are streaming down on their faces, not believing what happened. There are a lot of reactions but one is the same, tears.

Natalia pats your shoulder when separated from the hug, grabbing your face between her hands and muttering that you all make it. She kissed your forehead and passed to hug the rest of the staff team before she went to speak with the rival head coach.

Wiping your own tears, you hug the friends you made on this team. Victor lifts you from the ground, making you chuckle by his happiness words while Hector and Vega join you. The moment your feet hit the green grass, you are surprised to feel someone else lifting you —again— from behind. Looking through your shoulder, you see Alexia with her cheek on your back.

"I needed to come here first." Alexia tells you the moment she puts you down, turning around and after giving you a bear hug. You hear the emotion in her shaky voice, you only could hug her back and appreciate her gesture. She chooses to come here first and you valour that a lot.

When her face shows in your vision, her eyes are red and both hands are now wiping her cheeks, but a radiant smile is on her red lips.

"Your weird method worked and I need to thank you for that, even if we are on the other side of the coin, thank you." Alexia said in a rush.

You can't reply when you feel more arms around you, making Alexia laugh freely and join the group hug. Somehow, you know who is hugging you from behind, you know all too well that grip on your waist and the level of her head on your back.

"They need you." The social staff member breaks the moment with a guilty smile, calling Alexia's attention.

The captain nods and kisses your forehead before she goes away, going to the pitch to see the rival's players and then, go to speak with the press people.

Jana and Ingrid are now in front of you, their stained cheeks with their wide smiles make you wrap your arms around their necks, telling how proud you are. Between them in the hug, you see how Patri approaches you and tap your nose, leaning on their teammates and joining the hug.

"We won." Someone muttered in the group hug, you believe is Claudia. She said it like it didn't happen before or she couldn't believe it actually happened. "Someone tied her up with us!" She yells, some laughter was heard for her dramatic comment.

Slowly, the group hug faded not without one by one, they hugged you and exchanged another display of affection. Aitana is the last one to hug you, she kisses your forehead fondly and whispers a thank you, giving you the strongest hug she gave you. When you are separated, she gives you a brilliant smile with a glint on her gaze.

"Go." You muttered, pushing her shoulder teasingly. Aitana pokes her tongue out but goes towards the pitch again, missing when someone puts you something on your shoulders, Jana coming once again to your vision when she puts herself in front of you to tie the flag about your neck. "Really?" You leave out a giggle, watching how Jana nods proudly.

"You need to show the world you belong here." The brunette commented, grabbing with a hand a part of the flag to show you the blaugrana colours. Her voice is scratchy from the match, her red cheeks becoming her usual shade.

"How possessive." You muttered, smirking.

Jana smirks back at you, throwing an arm on your shoulders and bringing you towards the pitch. "We need to take care of you, just like you made with us."

Kika came with a Portuguese flag in a hand, a wide smile on her tan face. She throws her arm on your free side, joining the soft banter with Jana against you. The Catalan defender leaves your sides when they require her presence to give an interview, her place being replaced by Ona.

"MVP?" The full back asks loudly, keeping an eye on her friend.

"I'm between her and Fridolina." You comment, to your coming some good plays from these players or from others ones too. "Also Kika made a great performance." You turn to look at the mentioned one, watching how Kika dismisses it with humble, muttering that she is with Ona on who should be the player of the match.

You three witnesses how they give the small trophy to Jana, winking in her direction when she briefly meets your gazes. Then, slowly you go with them to shake hands with the opposite team, they decide to accompany you while you do it.

Cata lifts you from the ground once you finish shaking their hands, the goalkeeper going far and starts to jump on the spot. Irene came and in a mother's voice told her to put you down, the defender wink at you when she put you La Ikurriña flag where the Barça's flag is. You don't mind and give her a big hug, Irene helps you through the whole season and even if she is a helper with everyone, maybe the bond you share for your birthplace helped. The moment the team gathers at the sides for the opposite team to receive the silver medal, Aitana is right in front of you, bright brown eyes mainly on you but making space to shake some hands. Alexia is on your left side, it seems like they didn't want to leave you alone.

The moment it's Barcelona walk, you step quickly next to Vega feeling how Alexia pushes you softly chuckling. With both flags around your neck, you walk between Natalia and Vega, giving a small hug to the club's president and bumping your fist with the little girl before you receive the gold medal. You witness the trophy on your way to the walkway, making a face to the head coach when your gazes meet, the old woman chuckling and bringing you next to her, side hugging you.

One by one, they are approaching and gathering, waiting for Alexia to bring what they missed for two whole years. The Captain received the trophy in her hands, walking with it giving them an anticipated smile. The white smoke flies behind you, the confetti falling gracefully on yours and joining the happiness the team is irradiating while Alexia raises the trophy up, all of you jumping with the noise of the fans, showing them what they deserve to support them.

Then, the trophy from hand to hand until Ingrid comes and puts it in your hands, inciting you with a movement of head. You pick it up while you look at Natalia, you mutter to her if you raise it together or if not, you would pass it to someone else. Rolling her eyes, Natalia held the trophy and with your help raised it up, the whole team cheered like it was the first time.

When the whole team lifted the trophy, Alexia and Aitana yelled at them to give a walk around the stadium, clapping with their hands and celebrating it with the fans and family. Claudia grip your hand on hers, smiling like a kid watching everything with a marvellous face. Patri put herself to your other side, an arm on your shoulder and keeping a conversation with you. A phone showed on your faces, making you smile awkwardly. You promised the rest to take a picture with them, you walked next to Hector when the players joined their families.

Once it is over, Aitana picks and pulls from your hand to walk inside of the tunnel. She leads the way to the big and quiet changing room, closing the door behind her. Her hands went immediately to your waist, caressing your hip bone with her thumb.

"You don't know how much I want to kiss you..." Aitana muttered, leaning on your lips and frowning when you stop her with your hands on her chest. "What?"

"What if they catch us?" You ask, signalling with your head the closed door.

"Then, hopefully they keep us the secret." Aitana comments. "I don't mind if they catch us, at least I could kiss you in front of them."

You snort, putting now your hands on her face. "Would they find it weird?" You ask unsure, tracing her chin with your finger.

"Do you think it's the first time that a player and a coach have a relationship?" Aitana asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "Amor, we aren't the first and definitely not the last." She added, pecking your thumb.

So hearing her words, you nod with your head slowly. Soon her lips are on yours, her hands bring you closer. At first it was soft, until it became deep and slow, showing in the kiss the emotion of the moment. Aitana's lips chased yours when the air became a problem, not letting you have time to breathe properly and starting a new dance.

The door opens abruptly making you break the kiss and look in that direction, the voices shutting up when they witness what is happening inside.

Alexia starts to smirk slowly, laughing for your faces. Mapi squeals behind her and soon pushes them to come inside, making her room and putting herself between you two, arms on both of your shoulders and Ona whistles wiggling her eyebrows, a small astonishing expression.

Jana and Claudia walk quickly inside, big smirks on their faces while they gushes demanding how it started. Frido comes and mutters how cute you two look while giving you a hug, pushing Mapi out in the process.

"They seem happy." Aitana whispers in your ear once they all say something to you two, the loud voices surrounding you.

You just lean and capture her lips, ignoring the cheerful voices of the new champions of Europe.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni #fc barcelona femeni x reader

153 notes · View notes

wildflowersandvibranium · 1 day ago

Text

Notes In The Margins

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x GN!Teachers Aid Reader

Summary: In the quiet of the night , a teacher and his assistant find themselves tangled in a web of soft confessions and lingering glances, finally crossing the line they’d been dancing around for months.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: power roles dynamic , drinking , kissing when tipsy , makeout ish? , fluffy and lingering and tension and fluff!!

If i missed anything let me know

A/N: haiii omg saw these new seb pics and ran to write this so enjoyy hehehehe

read my bucky series here! MY MASTERLIST requests open!

The office was silent except for the low hum of the fans overhead and the faint delicate tapping of your fingers against the keys on your laptops keyboard.

Outside though , it was a different world , the city was still alive and bright as the sun set low past the horizon line.

Lights in distant windows flickering like fireflies dancing across the sleek glass and steel buildings.

The air was warm but slowly cooling where you were currently perched inside the old college building , it filled with the faint scent of dark fresh coffee and the dusty paper smell of old worn books.

You shifted slightly in your chair , your legs falling asleep from your same position hours on end.

Your eyes scan the messy sprawl of papers and essays in front of you. Diagrams half-sketched in the lined margins , paragraphs marked up in red and blue ink.

You’d spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening now hunched over this desk with Professor Barnes , you were his teacher aid this last year but somehow it never felt like work when you were with him.

He was seated beside you , one elbow propped on the desk holding up his head upright , shining was his silver cartier wrist watch as it gleamed on his arm , his face close enough that you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

His ivory shirt sleeves were rolled up , his red suit jacket draped over the back of his chair , and the soft lamplight cast warm shadows across his forearms , the veins there standing out as they ran up to his hands.

“This part here ,” he murmured , his voice low and rumbling against your head , “It’s good , but I think you could tighten the argument a bit. It rambles off a bit , see?”

You laughed softly , shaking your head , tapping the page with your black pen. “Coming from the man who wrote an entire paragraph just now in what can only be described as chicken scratch?”

He gave you a look , amused, exasperated. “It’s an art form sweetheart ,” he said, mouth twitching at the corners. “You just don’t have the refined eye for it.”

You leaned in to his voice , your head tilted slightly , your hair brushing your cheek as you smiled up at him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve spent half my time as your TA just trying to decipher your notes. You might as well write in ancient Greek , your poor students.”

“Better than chewing the tip of your pen until it looks like a dog’s chew toy,” he shot back , flicking his gaze and a pointer finger to the pen you were twirling absently in your fingers , the end bent and marked with your teeth.

Your lips parted , heat rising to your face dusting your cheeks pink with his observation. “It helps me think,” you said defensively , though your heart was thudding a little harder at the way his eyes darkened as they lingered on your mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed softly, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I suppose I can forgive that. If it means you’re focused on the work and edit that page.”

You let out a shaky breath , your pulse skittering. The way he said it ,like the work was only part of it , like there was something else he was focused on.

The space between you seemed to crackle , every small touch magnified. When you leaned forward to hand him the next stack of notes he asked for , your fingers brushed, and you felt it like a jolt—sharp and sweet, making your stomach flip.

It was always like this with you two , ever since your very first day. This dance of touches , jokes and lingering moments that made you both question what was the intent behind it , only for reality to come knocking and remind you of both your roles. Teacher and his aid.

Hours slipped by quicker than you would have liked , passing by in that golden pool of desktop lamplight.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily , but you ignored it. Time always seemed to blur when you were with him. You hated it.

Every so often as you both did your own thing next to each other , he would lean close to check a line you’d highlighted for him , his shoulder pressing right against the back of yours.

You could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your black blouse , every brush of his arm sending goosebumps down your skin and your heart rate rattling against your ribs..

He reached across you to grab a textbook from the nearby bookshelf. His hand grazed your cheek , and your breath caught , audible enough for him to hear.

He paused, his eyes flicking down to you catching the movement and sound that slipped past your lips.

“Sorry,” he whispered , his voice lower now , more intimate. “Didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly , too quickly cutting him off. Your fingers tightened on your pen almost snapping it , your pulse loud in your ears. “Really , its okay.” You said again more for yourself then him.

He held your gaze for a long , silent moment sweeping over your face. In the soft light , his blue eyes looked almost glowing , like he was seeing straight through you.

Then he nodded , sitting back down with the book , but he didn’t move away. If anything, he seemed to draw closer to your side.

“You know,” he said, his voice light and teasing but with a rough edge to it, “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who can make footnotes sound this… compelling.”

You laughed , ducking your head down to the writing you were hastily scribbling down. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good ,” he said , his lips twitching. “Because it is.”

Your stomach fluttered.

You’d always had an easy rapport with him , jokes and teasing as natural as breathing.

But God , tonight , it felt different—like every laugh , every playful jab was balanced on the edge of something sharper and more deep.

Every time your arms brushed again or your knees touched under the table , it was like a live wire crackling between you.

You were hyper-aware now of every small and big movement he made: the way his jaw tightened when he read what you wrote intently, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips when he was deep in thought, brows furrowed. And he was watching you, too with the same closeness , you could feel it in the way his gaze would linger just a fraction too long on your mouth , the way his fingers would tap restlessly on the table after like he was holding back something.

He was. Desperately.

It was well past midnight when you finally leaned back in your chair , letting out a quiet sigh slinging your arms over your eyes.

“I um , I should probably tell you something,” you yawned trough your sentence , voice a little unsteady.

He looked up , eyebrows raised. “And what’s that?”

You hesitated , fingers twisting together in your lap. “Next semester after summer… I won’t be your assistant anymore.”

He went still , the only sound the distant wail of a siren passing by outside.

“Oh?” he replied softly, almost questioning.

“Yeah Mr. Wash called me before class ended tonight and he said I’m getting my own classroom next year , White's old room.”

You stammered out , trying to smile. “Right down the hall. They offered me the course I proposed last spring. So… I’m not going to be your TA anymore.”

For a moment , he didn’t speak. His jaw tightened , and he nodded slowly, calculated , like he was trying to process the words and their meaning. “That’s… incredible Y/N ,” he said at last. “You deserve it.”

You swallowed, watching him carefully. “I’m excited. It’s what I’ve been working for.” You forced a smile. “But… I’m going to miss this. You.”

His eyes searched for yours , something flickering behind the careful professionalism. You didn't say you would miss working with him but just him , altogether.

“I’ll miss it , too,” he said quietly , his voice low but rough.

The room felt smaller after the ball dropped , the air thicker and more tense.

You could feel your pulse beating in your throat , your chest tight with everything you weren’t saying. He was so close , close enough that you could see the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes , the greys in his beard , the way his lips parted like he was about to speak up but ended up just closing.

After the clock struck 1:00am you both pried yourself from the work and bid a quick goodnight.

He had a hard time sleeping that night , you were leaving him , his days would be empty without you and your smiles , jokes help. You slowly turned into his lifeline , his comfort and it was more than a coworker or helper.

That next morning on Saturday he texted you an invitation.

Mr. Barnes: Dinner at my place tonight ? A small celebration for your new path.

Nothing fancy :) hows 7pm?

You checked your phone as it buzzed ,but after reading the invite you hesitated only a moment before your feelings took control and replying

You: I’d love that.

He smiled at your response and sent his address then asked you if what he had planned to make was okay with you. You replied with a thumbs up and smiley face and his heart raced.

You were coming to his place , just you two. Finally.

When you arrived at his apartment that evening , your stomach was a mess of nerves and excitement. He answered the door with a smile , wearing a soft , aged button-down with the sleeves rolled up high.

You stepped inside with a smile , the scent of something rich and savory filling the air.

He poured you a glass of red wine after asking if you would like some. You sat down , your handbag and sat at his bar counter looking around the nice home.

His fingers brushed yours as he handed it over by the delicate stem. “To new beginnings,” he murmured , his voice warm and a little husky.

“To new beginnings,” you echoed , smiling as you took a sip from the glass , your heart aching at the thought of leaving him.

Dinner was… easy. As was everything when it was just you two.

Roaring laughter over a now empty bottle of red wine , and many teasing comments currently about your mutual caffeine codependency.

But the undercurrent was there lingering , every time his knee bumped yours under the dinner table , every time his hand brushed your wrist as he reached for his fork , your breath caught hard in your chest.

When the plates were cleared , you ended up in the kitchen , standing close by the counter as he cleaned them with precision. You had offered to but he insisted.

You asked where the bathroom was and he pointed to the hall. “First door on the left , and I don't mind you looking around if you want” He gave you a quick wink turning back to the sink , the rational part of your mind knew you had to have made the wink up in your tipsy mind.

You shook off the new feeling bubbling in your stomach and padded to the restroom.

When walking back after taking a quick look around you saw , he had a study , a large bedroom and another guest bedroom that was bigger than yours at home.

You sauntered back into the living area and kitchen , the world outside the window bathed in blue moonlight.

He reached for your empty glass after you took your final sip , and his hand lingered on yours both holding the glass.

Neither of you moved away. Not this time.

“I’m really going to miss working with you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper of the wine in your system having helped fuel the confession.

He swallowed hard , his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he sat the glass down with his other , then bring it back to hold both your hands in his.

“You know…” he began , his voice quiet , “I don’t… I don’t want to let you go just yet, maybe even ever.”

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?”

He took a step closer , his chest brushing yours , his eyes dark and intense.

“I mean,” he said, his voice rough, “that I’ve been trying to be professional. Trying to respect the lines. But… I can’t, not anymore. Not if you’re leaving me.”

You felt like the world had narrowed to just the little to no space between you. “You drive me crazy,” he said, his voice low, ragged. “The way you look at me. The way you smile. The way you… chew on your pen when you’re thinking.” Letting out a breathy laugh at bringing little habit up yet again.

Your lips parted slightly , heart way past beating fast it was thudding so hard you could barely breathe.

“I’ve wanted you , too,” you whispered , your fingers dropping from his hands and dragging up his chest curling into the front of his shirt. “For so long.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours. “God,” he murmured, “you have no idea how much I’ve….”

Then you looked up , his eyes flashed to your lips then back to your big eyes , you nodded and that was all it took , that permission he craved.

His lips were on yours in an instant , and it was like something inside both of you snapped.

The kiss was hot and desperate , months and months of tension pouring out all at once it was almost too overwhelming. His hands cupped your face , fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back , deepening the kiss with more and more want.

Your hands fisted in his shirt tighter , pulling him closer , wanting more—needing more.

He kissed you like he’d been starved for it , his lips moving over yours with a hunger that made your knees go weak and buckle.

You gasped when he nipped at your lower lip , and he swallowed the sound happily, his hands sliding down to grip your waist , lifting you so you were perched on the edge of the counter.

“God,” he breathed against your lips , his voice rough and unsteady. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Tell me,” you said , your hands raking in his hair, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

He pressed his forehead to yours , breathing ragged. “Every time you laughed at one of my stupid jokes. Every time you looked at me like you saw me—not just the professor you were paid to work by. I tried to fight it. I tried so… hard.”

You kissed him again , soft and sweet this time , your fingers threading through the soft brown brown hair at the nape of his neck. “I wanted you , too , want you too,” you whispered.

“All those nights in the office… every time you touched me, I wanted more than just wishing you a goodnight James.”

He let out a low groan at the name , you finally not calling him by his last name or formality , kissing your jaw , his hands sliding up under your shirt to touch the warm skin of your back. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your mouth. “You know that?”

“Yeah,” you smile against his lips. “You do to me too, don't worry.”

Breathless , you finally pulled back from his lips , both of you flushed and panting slightly. Your hands were still tangled in his hair , his fists in the fabric of your shirt.

The air between you was thick with heat and the weight of everything you’d been holding back and now poured all out.

“Now what?” you whispered , your voice soft and almost shy as you looked up at him. Your lips were still tingling, from his kisses.

He let out a soft laugh, as he leaned in and kissed your temple. “Now…” he said, his voice low and earnest, “now I want to take you out on a date. A real date. No more lines. No more pretending we’re just colleagues.”

You felt your heart stutter, your breath catching in your throat. “You want that?”

He cupped your face , his thumb pad brushing over your cheekbones. “I do,” he said, his voice sure. “If you do. I want you to be mine. Actually mine. Not just late-night conversations and shared coffee cups. I want to know what your mornings look like. Your afternoons.Your nights. I want it all.”

Your chest felt like it might burst. You leaned into his touch , your fingers tracing his scruffy jaw. “I want that,” you said, your voice trembling with relief

“I want to be yours.”

The storm outside had started as a low rumble breaking your shared silence, but now rain was tapping insistently at the windowpanes , the wind howling softly through the gaps. He glanced toward the window, then back at you. “Looks like the weather’s not letting up anytime soon,” he said, his thumb still stroking your soft skin.

You followed his gaze, feeling the cozy hush of the storm seep into your bones. “No,” you agreed softly. “It’s not.”

He paused, his hand slipping down to rest at your waist. “You don’t have to go,” he said, his voice careful, like he didn’t want to push. “You can stay. If you want.”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding , your words quiet but sure.

A slow smile spread across his face, relief and joy mingling in his eyes. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to let you go just yet.”

He fetched a soft blue fleece blanket and you both settled onto the brown couch , the soft flicker of candlelight filling the room as the power flickered once or twice in the storm.

The couch was more than big enough for the two of you to stretch out, and when he pulled you into his arms, it felt like every jagged piece of you finally fell into place.

You tucked your head under his chin, his steady heartbeat under your cheek. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, his breath soft fanning in your hair.

Every time you shifted , you could feel the familiar comforting heat of his body, the gentle press of his lips against your forehead or the curve of your shoulder.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured into the quiet, his voice rough with honesty. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do,” you whispered back, your hand resting over his heart. “Because I’ve wanted it, too, just as much.”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes soft and warm. “Mine,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Finally.”

“Finally,” you echoed, and he kissed you again , slow and soft a promise rather than a plea.

You must have drifted off at some point before him , the warmth of his arms and the steady drum of rain lulling you right to sleep.

When you woke , the storm had passed , leaving the world washed clean and bright. Pale yellow , morning light filtered through the curtains, turning the room soft and golden.

You shifted on the couch, the blanket still wrapped snug around you , and realized he wasn’t there. Panic flared for a brief moment , had it all been a dream? But then you saw the worn folded piece of paper propped up against the pillow beside you.

You reached for it , unfolding it.

In that endearing handwriting of his he wrote out:

“hey honey , ran out to grab us some breakfast. Couldn’t have you without something sweet to wake up to. Don’t move. I’ll be back soon—don’t want my doll waiting too long.

-Yours , jbb

Your heart stuttered as you read it, your lips curving into a sleepy, half smile.

My Doll.

It echoed in your head, a warm ache spreading in your chest. You traced the careful scrawl of his handwriting—so much neater here than in the margins of your lecture notes.

You sank back against the couch , pulling the blanket tighter around you , and let yourself close your eyes again.

For the first time , you didn’t feel like you were waiting for something to happen between you two , for a line to be crossed.

You’d crossed it last night , together.

And when he walked back through the door with coffee and pastries and that lopsided smile , you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

-end

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leviitome · 1 day ago

Text

4 — HR Ruins Everything | Suguru Geto

AO3 / Masterlist / Moodboard

EDITED | ONGOING

Wordcount: 4k

cw: 18+, teasing, vocal Geto, oral (f receiving), boss-employee relationship, Geto don’t gaf about anonymity and secrecy he’d fuck you in front of everyone if it meant proving how badly he wants you.

Minors DNI.

Newly promoted and chronically late, you unknowingly take the last elevator available to only the highest-ranking executives and apparently, it's him. Suguru Geto. Who promises himself to give you, your exhausted, frustrated self, some type of relief every time you take his elevator.

Like all rumors, they start small. Like they always do. It’s been months, five actually, you can’t even believe you’ve been letting this on for this long. But you let it anyway.

Every passing moment, a comment in the break room about how you and Suguru arrived at the same time pops up. A knowing look when someone mentions seeing you both in front of the building. Sarah from HR asking casual questions about “settling into the executive floor” with a tone that suggests she knows more than she’s letting on.

By Wednesday, it’s impossible to ignore.

You’re reviewing quarterly reports in your office when your supervisor, Kiyotaka Ijichi, appears in your doorway. He’s holding a manila folder and wearing the expression of someone who wishes he were anywhere else.

“Got a minute?” he asks, already stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

Your stomach drops. “Of course.”

Ijichi sits across from your desk, the folder unopened in his lap. He’s maybe in his late thirties, with graying temples and the kind of tired eyes that come from one long decade of corporate mediocrity. He’s never been unkind to you, but he’s never been particularly warm either.

“I’m going to cut to the chase,” he says. “There’s been some… talk.”

You keep your expression neutral. “What kind of talk?”

“The kind that makes HR nervous.” He opens the folder, revealing what looks like printed emails. “Someone filed a concern about inappropriate workplace relationships on the executive floor.”

The words hit you like ice water. “Inappropriate relationships?”

“Look, I’m not here to play gotcha,” Ijichi continues, his tone slightly softer. “But I need to ask - is there anything going on between you and Suguru Geto that I should know about?”

The question, like always, hangs in the air. You could lie. You probably should lie. Deny everything, act offended, make it their problem to prove. But looking at Ijichi’s tired face, you realize how exhausting the deception has become.

“What happens if I say yes?”

Ijichi sighs, and suddenly, he looks even older. “Honestly? I don’t know. This is above my pay grade. But there are policies, protocols. Someone’s going to want to document this officially.”

You think about Suguru, probably in a similar meeting right now. Wonder if he’s handling it better than you are.

“Who filed the complaint?”

“I can’t tell you that. But…” Ijichi hesitates. “Let’s just say it wasn’t someone from your floor.”

Someone from lower floors, then. Someone who noticed you both arriving together, or saw something in the lobby, or maybe just put two and two together from office gossip.

“I need to think about this,” you say finally.

Ijichi nods. “You’ve got until Friday. HR wants to meet with both of you then.” He stands, leaving the folder on your desk. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been doing good work up here. Don’t let this derail everything you’ve worked for.”

After he leaves, you stare at the folder for a long time without opening it. Your hands are shaking - not the adrenaline rush from stolen moments with Suguru, but something colder.

The afternoon crawls by in a haze of attempted productivity. You try to focus on spreadsheets and client emails, but your mind keeps drifting to worst-case scenarios. Transfer to another department. Demotion. Having to find a new job entirely. All the progress you’ve made, all the respect you’ve earned, potentially wiped away because you couldn’t keep your hands off your boss.

Your phone buzzes around three, a text from an unknown number that you immediately recognize as Suguru’s personal cell.

Can’t talk at the office. Meet me at the Meridian Hotel Bar after work. 7 PM.

You stare at the message for a full minute before typing back.

Okay.

The Meridian is downtown, expensive and discreet. The kind of place where executives have affairs and business deals happen over thirty-dollar cocktails. You’ve never been there, but you know about it, everyone in corporate circles does.

You spend the rest of the afternoon in a state of nervous energy, checking your watch every few minutes and jumping at every sound in the hallway. By the time five-thirty rolls around, you’re practically vibrating with anxiety.

The bar at the Meridian is all dark wood and soft lighting, jazz playing quietly in the background. It’s exactly the kind of place you’d expect Suguru to choose, sophisticated, understated, expensive. You spot him immediately, sitting alone at a corner table, still in his work clothes but with his tie loosened and his jacket draped over the back of his chair.

He looks up as you approach, and something in his expression makes your chest tighten. He looks tired more so than you’ve ever seen him.

“Rough day?” you ask, sliding into the seat across from him.

“You could say that.” He signals the waitress. “What are you drinking?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

He orders two whiskeys, neat, and you sit in silence until they arrive. The first sip burns, but it’s a good burn, warming you from the inside out.

“So,” you say finally. “I’m guessing you had a similar conversation to mine.”

“Similar.” He takes a sip of his drink, wincing slightly. “Though I get the feeling mine was a bit more… pointed.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say that when you’re in my position, people expect you to know better.” His voice is flat, professional. “They expect you to understand the implications of your actions.”

“And do you? Understand the implications?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and then you see something in his eyes that makes your breath catch. Not regret, exactly, but something close to it.

“I understand that this is complicated,” he says carefully. “More complicated than either of us anticipated.”

The words feel like a rejection, even though his tone is neutral. You take another sip of whiskey, using the burn to ground yourself.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“Are you?”

The question is loaded in everything you haven’t said. Because yes, you are having second thoughts. How could you not be? This morning you were secure in your career, confident in your trajectory. Now you’re sitting in an expensive hotel bar, drinking and wondering if you’re about to lose everything.

“I asked you first,” you say, deflecting.

Suguru’s mouth quirks up in what might be a smile. “Fair enough.” He leans back in his chair, studying you. “You want the honest answer?”

“I think I deserve an honest answer.”

“The honest answer is that I’ve been thinking about nothing else all day. About what this means, what it could cost us. What it could cost you specifically.”

“And?”

“And I keep coming back to the same conclusion.” He leans forward, his voice dropping. “I don’t care.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. “You don’t care?”

“About the job, the politics, the gossip - no, I don’t care. Not when it comes to you.”

You want to argue, to point out all the reasons why he should care, why you both should care. But the way he’s looking at you makes the words die in your throat.

“That’s easy for you to say,” you manage finally. “You’re not the one who’s going to get pushed out if this goes sideways.”

“You think I’d let that happen?”

“I don’t think you’d have a choice.”

Suguru’s jaw tightens. “Maybe I won’t. But I’d try like hell.”

The conviction in his voice surprises you. You’ve gotten used to his confidence, his certainty, but this feels different. It felt more personal.

“Why?” you ask. “All of this? Risking all of this? For me?”

He’s quiet for a moment, turning his glass in his hands. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Because I've been going through the motions for years. Doing what I’m supposed to do, saying what I’m supposed to say, being who I’m supposed to be. And then you walked into my elevator, and for the first time in longer than I can even remember, I felt something different.”

Your heart does something complicated in your chest. “Suguru…”

“I’m not saying this, I don’t want to put you on the spot.” He continues. “I’m saying it because you deserve to know. You deserve to understand this—what you mean to me.”

The bar music swells around you, and you’re acutely aware of other conversations happening in the bar, but the clink of glasses, the low murmur of voices. Normal people having normal conversations, not sitting here trying to decide whether to risk their careers for something that might not even last.

“What I mean to you,” you repeat slowly.

“Everything,” he says simply. “You mean everything. It’s not even about what we do in the elevator or in my office, it’s about what this is.” He finally manages to explain.

The words are heavy with implication. You want to say something equally meaningful, equally honest, but the words won’t come. Instead, you reach across the table and take his hand.

His fingers intertwine with yours immediately, and you’re struck by how natural it feels. How right.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly.

“I know.”

“I worked so hard to get where I am. The thought of losing it–”

“I know,” he says again. “But what if we don’t lose it? What if we figure out a way to make this work?”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll try anyway. We can talk to HR, see what options we have. Maybe one of us transfers to a different department. Maybe we can find a way to make it work within the current structure.”

“And if we can’t?”

His thumb traces across your knuckles, the gesture achingly routine and familiar. “Then we figure it out.”

The word hits you like a revelation. We. not just stolen moments in elevators and late nights in his office, but actually together. Building something real that could actually, realistically last.

“You’re asking me to choose,” you say. “The job or you.”

“I’m asking you to choose yourself. Whatever that looks like.”

You drain the rest of your drink, feeling the burn all the way down. “This is insane.”

“Probably.”

“We could both end up unemployed.”

“We could.”

“We could ruin everything we’ve worked for.”

“We could,” he agrees. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both quirk up a smile and manage to stifle out a laugh that could potentially leave both of you jobless.

The optimism in his voice should be irritating, but instead it’s oddly comforting. He’s sure. Like maybe, for once, you don’t have to have all the answers figured out in advance.

“I need to think about this,” you say finally.

“Of course.” He signals for the check. “But while you’re thinking, remember something.”

“What?”

"You're not the same person who walked into my elevator that first morning.”

The observation catches you off guard.

“Because you’re here. Because you’re considering this at all. The woman I met that first day would have already made her decision - the safe one, the logical one. But you’re still here, still thinking about it.”

Outside the bar, the city is alive with evening energy. People coming home from work, couples meeting for dinner, tourists taking photos of the skyline. Normal people living their day to day lives, and for a moment, you envy them for their simplicity.

“I can call you a cab to take you home?” Suguru asks.

You almost say yes, but something stops you. “I need to walk. Clear my head.”

He nods, understanding.

The kiss he gives you is soft, almost tentative. Like he’s trying to memorize the feel of your lips just in case it’s the last time he’ll ever get to it.

The walk home takes you forty fucking minutes. For a second there you wished you could have said yes to the cab. You both left your cars in the building, being intoxicated and all. By the time you reach your apartment building, you’ve made your decision.

You text him as soon as you’re inside. Come over. We need to talk.

He responds immediately, On my way.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at your door. You open it to find Suguru standing in your hallway, still in his work clothes but somehow more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him.

“Hi,” he says simply.

“Hi.”

You step aside to let him in, and suddenly your apartment feels too small.

He’s looking around, taking in the details. Your art on the walls, the throw blanket draped over your couch, the stack of novels on the coffee table.

“I’ve been thinking,” you say.

“And?”

“You’re right. About how I’m not the same person that walked into your elevator.”

Something shifts in his expression. “Yeah?

“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “And that this better last longer than any and I mean any of your relationships.”

The smile spreads across his face is radiant. “Are you sure?” The implication to his question is gleaming.

“No,” you admit. “But I'm sure about this. And maybe that’s enough.”

He kisses you then, and it’s different from all the others. Softer, more deliberate, less about hunger and more about choice. About commitment to what you both have.

Suguru kicked the front door shut behind him, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you towards the couch. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt riding up to reveal your tights and the smooth expanse of your legs. Suguru groaned at the feel and sight of you, so soft and pliant in his embrace.

He tumbled you down onto the plush cushions, settling between your spread legs. You could feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing against your core, separated only by the fabric of his slacks. You rolled your hips, relishing the desperate friction.

“Fuck, I want you,” Suguru growled, hands roaming greedily over your curves. He pushed your skirt down and slid them past your legs, exposing your skin and your underwear.

Unable to resist, he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses to the newly revealed flesh, tongue dipping into your navel.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him against you as you arched your back.

“All yours.” You breathed, desire burning hot and bright under your skin.

With a low grunt, Suguru reached to unbutton your shirt. The fabric fell away, revealing the peaks of your chest to his gaze. He palmed your tits before reaching behind you to unhook your bra.

“God,” he rasped, ducking his head to capture one nipple into his mouth. He suckled greedily, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as his hand continued to worship your breast. You mewled and writhed beneath him, pleasure sparking through your body.

Suguru’s fingers crept up higher, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties to brush against your slick pussy. You were already so wet, arousal coating his fingers as he slid them through your slick folds. He circled your clit with slow strokes, teasing you until you were breathing heavily.

“Please,” you whimpered, hips rolling against his hand.

Suguru didn’t hesitate. He tugged your panties down your legs, tossing them carelessly onto the floor.

You feel Suguru’s strong hands grip your thighs, pushing them further apart as he settles between your legs. The cool air of your apartment kisses your most intimate places, making you shiver in anticipation. You look down at him, heart racing as you watch him gaze appreciatively at your exposed sex, glistening and ready.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Suguru chuckles, voice heavy with lust.

Unable to resist you any longer, he leans in and presses a hot kiss to your clit. You gasp, back arching off the couch cushions as pleasure sparks through you at the first touch of his lips. He groans against your flesh, the vibrations making your toes curl.

He starts to explore your slick folds with his tongue, licking long and slow from your entrance up to your clit.

Your fingers dangle in his hair, gripping the strand and holding him against you as he feasts on your sex. Suguru’s tongue circles your clit, flicking and teasing until you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Oh god, yes—“ you pant, hips rolling against his face. “Don’t stop. Suguru please don’t stop—“

Until he does.

You could feel a mix of frustration and confusion as he stops what he’s doing. He pulls back to look up at you with a smirk. Your body is aching, desperate for a release. The sudden halt leaves you annoyed. Unsatisfied.

“What are you doing?” You pant. Furrowing your brows as you grab a pillow and make attempts to throw it at his face. He stands back up, catching the pillow as he chuckles.

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a teasing kiss to your temple.

You watch him with bated breath as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest inch by inch. He struts it off, letting it fall on the floor and leaving him in just his tailored slacks that hug his hips perfectly.

“Suguru, please...” you groan, sprawling your legs wider in clear invitation. Your pussy is throbbing, aching, you wanted it more than you ever have.

He smirks at your plea, fingers toying with his belt buckle. “Please what?” He teases, voice a low rasp. “Tell me what you need.”

You know he’s enjoying this, drawing out your frustration for his own amusement. But you’re too far gone to care. “I need you.” You admit, breathlessly.

Suguru’s eyes darken with lust at your confidence. He swiftly unbuckles his belt and shoves his slacks and boxers down his hips. His cock springs free, you lick your lips at the sight, remembering how it felt stretching you open for the first time.

He settles back between your thighs, the head of his cock judging against your dripping core. You both groan at the contact, your body already aching. Suguru grips your hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching you before pulling back out.

“Stop teasing,” you hiss, trying to rock your hips down to take him deeper. But he holds you in place, controlling your every movement. He chuckles again, taking in your sight before finally thrusting forward, claiming you to the hilt in one smooth glide.

He starts to move, hips rolling in a sensual rhythm as he fucks you deeply.

Your hands roam over his back, nails raking down the defined muscles as you hold on for dear life. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your increasingly loud moans and grunts of pleasure.

Suguru leans down to capture one of your bouncing breasts in his mouth, suckling the nipple greedily as he drives into you faster and harder.

“Yes, just like that,” you pant, head thrown back. You wrap your legs around his waist.

Suguru complies with a low growl, the force of his thrust making the couch shake beneath you. Your orgasm builds fast, pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core as he takes you. You know you won’t last much longer, not with the way he’s fucking you.

The tension in your heat snaps as your orgasm crashes over you. You scream his name, voice breaking on a ragged moan as your pussy clamps down and clenches around him. You could feel him grip your waist tighter from the feeling, “Fuck, don’t do that.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, your body convulses beneath him, back arching off the couch as pleasure blurs your vision.

Suguru snarls, hips jerking from the feeling. He grinds against you, prolonging your high as he chases his own. “My god,” he whispers, “—feel so good, baby.” fingers digging from your waist to your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

You can feel his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you, growing even harder as he teeters on the edge. Your hands resting beside your head as you watch him reach his climax.

With one final, brutal thrust, Suguru fills himself inside you and comes with a guttural groan. His cum releasing deep inside of you. You moan in acknowledgement, aftershocks wracking your body as you milk him for every last drop.

Finally, he collapses against you, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both chase yourselves back to reality.

Afterward, you lie tangled together in your couch, the city lights filtering through your curtains. Suguru’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, and for the first time in weeks, your mind feels strangely and comfortingly quiet.

“So what happens now?” you ask, your voice soft in the darkness.

“I guess we'll wait till Friday,” he says. “Whatever HR thinks, whatever consequences there are, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out.”

You nod, but you can see the worry in his eyes. It’s the same worry that’s been eating at you all day, the fear that choosing this means sacrificing everything else.

“When did you become such a romantic?”

“About five months ago, when you stumbled into my elevator.”

You laugh, remembering that first morning. How nervous you’d been, how uptight you were, and how intimidating he’d seemed. “I didn’t stumble.”

“You absolutely stumbled. It was adorable.”

“I was late and I panicked.” You lifted your head up to glance at him before lightly hitting his chest.

“You were perfect.”

The sincerity in his voice makes you duck your head, suddenly bashful. Even after everything that’s happened between you, moments like this still catch you off guard.

As you drift off to sleep in his arms, you think about Friday’s meeting. About HR policies and workplace relationships and all the ways this could go terribly wrong. But for the first time in days, the fear doesn’t overwhelm you.

Because you’re not facing it alone anymore. Whatever happens, happens.

When you wake up the next morning, Suguru’s still there, arm around you, his breathing soft and even. Sunlight streams through your windows, painting everything in a warm light. You watch him sleep for a moment, memorizing the peaceful expression on his face.

In a few hours, you’ll both have to return to the office, to the whispers and knowing looks and the weight of Friday’s impending meeting. But right now, none of that matters.

Right now, you're exactly where you’re supposed to be.

You think about calling in sick, spending the day in bed with him, pretending the outside world doesn’t exist. But you know you can’t.

Suguru stirs as you’re getting ready for work, his eyes opening slowly.

“Morning,” he says, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning.” You lean down to kiss him, and he pulls you back into the bed for a moment, making you laugh.

“We should probably talk about logistics,” you say when you finally extract yourself from his arms. “How we handle today, tomorrow, the meeting on Friday.”

“Right. Logistics.” he sits up, running a hand through his hair. “We should probably get there separately today. No need to give the gossip mill more shit to talk about.”

You nod, agreeing. “And during the meeting?”

“We tell the truth. That we’re obviously two consenting adults who’ve developed feelings for each other. We’re committed to maintaining professionalism at work, but we’re not willing to end our personal relationship.”

“And if they say that’s not acceptable?”

“Then we ask what our options are. Transfer, different reporting structure, whatever they need to make it work.”

You hum, watching him get up as he puts on his clothes from yesterday. Suguru gives you a quick peck on the lips before kissing your temple again. You smile, patting his chest as he steps out of your door.

“See you at work,” you say.

“See you at work.”

As you close the door, you realize that everything really has changed. You don’t just fuck your boss on the regular, you want him, not just his scent being displayed and obvious on your thighs, or at least once broken office chair one every two weeks. It’s Suguru. His whole being that leaves you desperate and wanting.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto #Suguru geto x reader #anime #ijichj #boss #smut #eventual smut #minors DNI #anime smut #modern jjk #boss suguru #geto suguru teasing

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vaginalvr · 1 day ago

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ok i NEED an enemies to lovers with spencer reid

content warning: Enemies to lovers, heated arguments, hair-pulling, rough sex, desk sex, protected sex, mild biting, praise, post-sex vulnerability, hurt/comfort undertones, Reid being mean at first then needy

a/n: delicious

word count ~ 1.3k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The worst part about Spencer Reid wasn’t that he was a genius.

It was that he knew it.

You could handle the IQ. You could even handle the endless monologues and unsolicited corrections. But it was the way he wielded his intelligence like a scalpel—clean, cold, and calculated—that made your blood boil every single time.

Especially when it was directed at you.

Like now.

“There’s no behavioral basis for your profile,” he said coolly from the other side of the precinct’s tiny war room, tapping his pen against the table. “You’re speculating without any empirical data.”

You gritted your teeth. “I’m going off instinct.”

“Instincts are what get people killed,” he shot back without looking up.

“Funny,” you said through clenched teeth. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Doctor Reid.”

He finally looked at you—eyes sharp, challenging, and so annoyingly beautiful it made your pulse stutter. And he smirked. That little upward twitch of his lips that said you’ll never beat me.

“Just trying to keep the team grounded in facts,” he said, voice syrupy-sweet.

“More like trying to prove how big your brain is.”

“Better than thinking with something else.”

The silence that followed was thunderous. Even Morgan raised his eyebrows from across the room. You stared at Reid, jaw tense, throat dry. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t apologize. Just stared back, daring you to rise to the bait.

God, you wanted to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Let’s stay focused. We’ve got twelve hours until the next expected abduction. Pair off and review the victimology again.”

You glared at Reid. He glared back. Hotch, either oblivious or cruel, said, “Reid, Y/L/N, take the sheriff’s office.”

Perfect.

The ride over was silent. You sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes on the window. Spencer drove like he argued—tight, precise, and just this side of reckless.

“You’re wrong about the profile,” he said suddenly, eyes on the road.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious.”

You turned to him, heat rising in your chest. “You ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”

He didn’t answer. Just smiled.

The sheriff’s office was even smaller than the precinct—two desks, a pot of sludge masquerading as coffee, and a single interrogation room that doubled as an evidence closet. You took one look at the setup and knew you were going to be in hell.

Especially when Hotch called to say you'd need to stay overnight—just in case.

Of course, there was only one office with a lock and one long, uncomfortable desk.

You were stuck. With him.

The worst part was how good he looked under cheap fluorescent lighting.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie loosened. He leaned over the desk, fingers dancing across the case file, lips pressed together in that infuriating way that made your stomach flip. You hated the way your body betrayed you. Hated the way he always got under your skin.

“Do you always have to be such a fucking know-it-all?” you snapped finally.

He straightened, eyes narrowing. “Do you always have to be so defensive?”

“Only when I’m being talked down to by someone who thinks he's the smartest person in the room.”

“I am the smartest person in the room.”

And that was it. The last straw. You marched over, grabbed the file from his hands, and shoved it onto the desk with a slap.

“You’re not God, Spencer.”

He stepped closer. Too close. “No. But at least I don’t pull guesses out of my ass and call it profiling.”

Your breath caught. Not from fear. From fury. From something else, hotter, more dangerous. “You’re such a smug, insufferable—”

“Say it.”

“Asshole!”

“Louder.”

“Asshole!”

You shoved him. Hard. His hands caught your wrists, holding you in place. You should’ve pulled away. Instead, you yanked him closer.

And kissed him.

It was war—teeth, lips, breathless anger. His mouth was hot, demanding, tongue sliding against yours like a challenge. He pushed you against the desk, hips between your thighs, and you let him. You wanted to scratch him. Bite him. Fuck him.

“You’re such a prick,” you gasped.

His mouth was at your throat. “You love it.”

“You wish.”

“I know.”

You grabbed his tie, dragged him back to your lips, kissed him like you were starving for it. Like you needed to win.

He spun you around, bent you over the desk, hand flat against your back.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice ragged.

You didn’t.

He yanked your slacks down, panties with them. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you arch your hips instinctively.

“Condom,” you said, breathless.

He pulled one from his wallet—of course—and rolled it on with trembling fingers.

“Ready to be wrong again?” he growled.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

He thrust into you hard enough to knock a gasp from your lungs.

“God—Spencer—”

His grip on your hips tightened. “Say that again.”

You bit your lip.

“Say it.”

“Fuck—Spencer—”

The desk creaked beneath you with every thrust. He was relentless, hips snapping, hands possessive, his mouth at your shoulder like he wanted to mark you.

“You hate me, huh?” he said into your skin.

“Yes—”

He thrust harder. “Lie again.”

You moaned, head falling forward. He filled you so perfectly it almost made you mad.

“You hate this?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer. Your body was already shaking, walls clenching around him.

“That’s what I thought.”

His hand slid down, fingers circling your clit with calculated precision.

“Come for me,” he growled. “Right now.”

You did. Hard.

He followed, cursing against your neck, coming with a strangled groan that made your knees buckle.

For a long, trembling moment, you both stayed there—panting, skin slick, ruined.

Then, he pulled out slowly, discarded the condom, and helped you up.

Neither of you spoke.

Not until ten minutes later, when you were half-dressed and pretending to look at files again.

“I still think your profile’s bullshit,” he muttered.

You turned to him, hair messy, cheeks flushed.

“And I still think you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

His eyes dropped to your lips.

“But…” you added, stepping closer, “you can be surprisingly useful when you shut up.”

He smirked.

“Guess we finally found a way to work together.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds x reader

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walkingnearfoxes · 2 days ago

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Work Perks (Homelander x Reader)

You’re Homelander’s new favorite worker bee. It’s a mixed blessing.

NSFW. Warnings for dubious consent, coercion, toxic workplace power dynamics, oral, anal, and it’s the Homelander we all should be running.

Some perks came with having caught Homelander’s attention. One of them was moving from a cubicle in the trenches of Vought Tower to your own private office. Another was that an offhand comment about knee pain resulted in a state-of-the-art convertible standing desk, accompanied by a bouquet of roses next to your keyboard. He even left a note.

Need to make sure those knees are in working order, right? ;) - The Homelander

You don’t know why he felt the need to write you a signed note. He’s the only one in your life with such a frivolous grasp of an insurmountable bank account.

Keeping the positives of this “relationship” in mind was important. When Homelander’s advances started becoming obvious, you thought your coworkers would hate you. No one else at Vought rocketed to importance as quickly as you had, and you wouldn’t fault anyone for seething at the favoritism. Instead, whenever you passed an old office buddy in the lunch room or the halls, they gave you nothing but sympathy. Homelander had kept up his shiny reputation with the world for decades, but the inner sanctum knew better. Each shiny toy bestowed upon you came with a cost. They knew a contract with the devil had been signed, and you weren’t the one holding the pen.

So, with little other choice, you focused on the good parts. The desk cost more than two months’ rent, and it kept your knee from locking during your insane hours. Your productivity soared to the point that you were smiling to yourself when the door opened.

“Oh, look at you,” Homelander coos as he struts towards you. “My little worker bee in her element.”

There goes your productivity. Still, you smile at the hero as he saunters closer. “Hi, Homelander.”

“Hi,” He stops to run his gloved hand over the desk’s outer edge. “So, what do you think? You like it?”

“Very much,” You tell him honestly, your fingers still typing away at your dozens of e-mails. “Thank you.”

Homelander waves his hand in mock modesty. “Oh, come on. You’re the one making the company run, right?”

A huge exaggeration, but that’s his specialty. He slowly takes off his gloves and leaves them by your monitor. He then saunters over to the desk controls on the side of the wood. With a quiet hum of intrigue, he presses the button to raise the desk. He keeps hold until it’s as high as it can go, leaving the keyboard in line with your neck. He then lowers it all the way down so the keyboard aligns with your knees. He then repeats the process, not minding that you’re still trying to do your work. He does it again. And again. Up. Down. Up. Down.

“Please stop that.”

He laughs, but obliges. You feel him walk behind you to stand behind your back. One hand settles on your waist. His chin comes down to rest on your shoulder. He says nothing for a while and watches your attempt to continue working, his fingers lightly drumming against your waist. Finally, he chuckles. “Your blood pressure’s awfully high. Tough e-mails?”

You swallow heavily as your typing rate continues to decrease. “Yeah. Very tough.”

Homelander chuckles again and gently kisses the side of your neck. “You’re so cute.”

You have no reply to that, and he allows you to work for a few more minutes. You manage to get two more emails sent. As usual, it doesn’t take long for him to get bored. He starts brushing soft kisses along your neck, soft kisses that evolve into sucking against your skin, sucking that turns into little nibbles along your collarbone. One hand stays on your waist while the other trails down your skirt. He grabs a handful of your ass. You let out a sharp gasp. “Homelander-”

“I don’t like this dress,” He mumbles against your skin. “It’s not flattering.”

You’ve had this dress for years. Prior to Homelander kicking down the door into your life, you had a very average living. An average living didn’t afford you the luxury of buying the lavish outfits Homelander prefers.

“We’ll have to replace it,” Homelander says, emphasizing his point with another full squeeze of your ass.

“I like this dress,” You murmur. He’s begun taking over your wardrobe, but you have been more resistant to losing your personal style.

As if reading your thoughts, he breathes a dark chuckle against your neck. “Aw, my little doll doesn’t like dress up? What’s the problem? A million people in this building would kill to be in your pretty little shoes.”

There’s an edge of a warning in his final words, but you don’t dare take the bait. You don’t want to tell him what he perceives as envy is horror. Maybe a few poor souls haven’t seen through Homelander’s porcelain grin, but you remember your coworkers' sympathetic looks with each new “gift.” You didn’t offer yourself to the wolf; he found you.

Homelander’s hand slides underneath your skirt. He growls against your neck as he feels the soft fabric of your underwear, dexterous fingers wrapping around them and pulling down. You gasp quietly, your fingers finally pausing in the frantic typing. “Homelander, I have so much work to do today.”

“Okay? I’m not stopping you.” You feel his eye roll as he lets go of your waist, but only to continue pulling your underwear down your body. It ends with him kneeling between your legs, his hot breath too dangerously close to your sensitive skin. “Fuck, I love the smell of this cunt.”

There’s a window on your office door. If anyone passed by, they would see this. That doesn’t stop Homelander from pushing his face up your skirt and licking a slow line up your pussy. You gasp, your hands flying forward to grab the edges of your desk. He chuckles against you. One of his hands grabs the back of your thigh to hold you steady, and the other moves to grab a handful of one cheek, squeezing and spreading you wide. When he’s decided you’re steady, he licks you lazily. The Homelander loves to eat you out. He does it whenever and wherever he can. He’s loud and unabashed, growling and sucking on your lips like you’re his favorite meal. It leaves you shaking every time. His hold on you and your white-knuckle death grip on the desk - the desk he gave you - keep you from turning into a puddle. He barely touches your clit until little moans of pleausre start escaping your lips. Only then does he angle his tongue down to flick at your little bud with a practiced precision that makes any remaining good sense flee your body. “Fuck, Homelander...”

“That’s my girl,” He growls in approval, pressing his face impossibly closer against your cunt. His hand on your ass travels around to thumb at your clit lazily, his tongue pressing up inside you. The gentle fucking of his tongue is so distracting that you nearly miss how his thumb travels south, rubbing slowly over your ass, and then presses against your asshole. You gasp, unconsciously bucking back into him, and his thumb slowly slides inside of you, and you moan. Homelander’s low chuckle against you is sinful. “I knew you’d like that.”

You can’t form a reply by his design. He goes back to sucking your clit, his thumb slowly fucking your ass, and your orgasm takes you by surprise. You hear him growl as your juices drip into his mouth, a meal he eagerly takes, and the pleasure rolls through your body. You bury your face against the desk to stifle your moans from alerting the rest of the building just what the leader of the Seven is doing to you in your office. You’re still recovering as you feel him pull away. Homelander lifts one of your legs onto the desk, your shin resting on the cold wood. “Up we go,” He murmurs, then reaches over to lower the desk so your hips are in line with his. “Damn. This thing really is multi-use, isn’t it?”

Your legs are fully spread, your skirt tossed up. It sends the gifted roses to the floor, but Homelander doesn’t spare them a glance. Your raised leg leaves you little mobility, but he seems to get a real kick out of leaving you at his mercy. You hear the familiar sound of his belt - that ridiculous eagle - coming undone, and then his hard cock is pressed against you. He feels hot, and your fingers curl to fight an arch back into him. Then, he slowly presses his cock against your ass. You jolt; you haven’t done this with him before. “Homelander…”

“Oh, come on,” He growls, need and impatience heavy in his voice. “You came like a faucet at just my thumb in your ass. You telling me you don’t want this?”

You’re not rejecting him; you’re not even sure if you could. But he turns sex into a marathon and leaves you a mess every time. You don’t know if you could handle him fucking your ass over your desk. The thought alone makes you shake, but that gives you your answer. You let out a shaky breath. “Just…just be gentle, please.”

He surprises you by leaning forward and brushing a kiss on the top of your head. “Of course…gonna stretch my doll nice and gentle,” He murmurs against your hair. He takes himself in his hand and slowly, achingly, pushes inside. His hands both move to your hips when he bottoms out. The moan out of his mouth is filthy and loud. If you could think straight, maybe you’d be concerned about the whole floor hearing you. But even if they did, they’d know exactly what was happening and who was doing it. No one in their right mind would interrupt the Homelander now.

He fucks your ass slowly at first, giving you space to adjust, but never stops moving. His grip on your hips will leave bruises, and you remember how much he’s holding back. This man could tear you apart without even trying. In a way, he already is. His cock has a way of fucking the most difficult parts of this situation out of your mind. The more your body adjusts to him, the more heat tingles along your spine. Your eyes roll back, your moans getting louder to match his own.

“That’s it. Knew you’d like this, you slut,” Homelander growls, emphasizing his words with rougher thrusts. “Been wanting to fuck this cute ass for so long.”

One hand deftly moves around to rub quick circles at your clit, and then pinches it between his fingers. That’s it for you. You whimper through your orgasm this time, the pleasure sending the energy out of your body, and he follows right after. He almost sounds pained as he comes inside you, his hand on your hip shaking against your skin. His face rests against your head, and for a long moment, he says nothing. Finally, he curses under his breath. “Fuck.”

You shift, his softening cock still inside you. “What?”

“I really wanted to fuck your tits,” Homelander complains. He reaches around to give one of your breasts a squeeze. “They look so good in this blouse.”

You can’t help a quiet huff of laughter. “You got really sidetracked, then…”

He snorts and leans down to kiss your exposed collarbone. “Can’t say I’m disappointed,” He kneels down and finds your panties, pulling them back into place. When you squirm, he chuckles. “Relax. You won’t be wearing them for long.”

That only means one thing. You’re getting no more work done today. You’re getting whisked away to Homelander’s penthouse, where your only job is to please him. To survive him.

#my writing #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #i woke up today and chose to sin

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mountttmase · 14 hours ago

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It’s Late

Note - so I was browsing through Pinterest this morning when this picture of Mason popped up that I’ve used in the header and I had to get my thoughts down 🤭 enjoyyy this small lil thing idk

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 842

Warnings - fluff

The gym was dimly lit, humming quietly with the steady whir of the exercise bike. Mason’s muscles were taut with effort, sweat clinging to his brow as he powered through the strain and as he dipped his head to let out a groan, you tried to hold in a sigh. As his physio, this was the last thing you wanted to see.

You had been watching him from the doorway for around five minutes now, standing as silently as you could with your arms folded. The determination in his eyes and the way his body moved so powerfully was always something you had admired, but you’d spoken to him about this many times before and even though you were enjoying the show you knew you needed to give him a good telling off.

‘You know it’s late’ you finally said, your voice cutting gently through the silence once his legs had come to a halt. ‘And you’ve been told not to push it. Overdoing it now will only set you back’

Mason glanced toward you, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ‘Aww, is that someone worrying about me?’ he pouted sarcastically.

‘I’ve put too much into your rehab for you to go and screw it all up’ you replied, tossing him a towel as you walked over to him. He caught it without missing a beat, dabbing at his face.

‘I won’t, I promise’ he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with playfulness. ‘Though, the thought of spending more time in your office doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me’

‘You’re impossible’ you said with a small laugh, already turning to go but before you could take a full step, his hand shot out and gently wrapped around your wrist. Tugging you back towards him with one arm sliding around your waist to pull you in closer.

‘Mason’ you said softly, your eyes darting to the doorway. ‘We can’t, what if someone sees?’

‘No one’s here’ he whispered, his voice low and warm. ‘And I haven’t kissed you in days’

He gave you that look, the one that always melted your resolve and got him exactly what he wanted. His lips brushed yours once softly and that was all it took. The both of you lost in each other, kissing deeply and hungrily as if the space between you had been aching to close all day.

Mason's mouth moved against yours in such a way that it made your knees weak. He was right, it had been days, long and frustrating days of pretending to be nothing more than his physio. Of brushing past him in hallways and acting like he didn’t know how to undo you with a single glance.

But now with his arms around you and his lips on yours, you could feel how much he needed this too. From the way his hand slid up the curve of your back that made your pulse stumble to the playful way he nibbled at your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but pull him closer even though you knew you shouldn’t.

It was wrong to do this here, but it felt so good.

‘Mase’ you whispered, your hands still resting on his chest as you pulled away. ‘We can’t do this here’

He blinked down at you, a glint of amusement lighting his tired eyes. ‘Why not?’

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. ‘Because this is still the training ground, and I’m still technically your physio. And I’m fairly sure that’s frowned upon, especially when you’re supposed to be... I don’t know, resting?’

He didn’t let go of you, just leaned in close again, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur as his lips brushed your ear. ‘Then come back to mine’

‘Subtle’ You laughed as you raised an eyebrow at him.

He grinned unapologetically, that cheeky glint still so evident in his expression. ‘We both know I’m not subtle, but I’ve got a sofa, fridge full of food, no exercise equipment in sight. And the best part? no one watching us’

You exhaled a shaky laugh, trying not to let the idea get the better of you. You’d never been to Mason's house before as it still felt too risky but in this moment you were ready to take that step. ‘Tempting’

‘You should be’ he grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. ‘You’ve been driving me mad, walking around like you don’t know how fit you are’

You swatted his chest, biting back a laugh. ‘You’re too much’

‘And you love it’

God help you, you did.

You hesitated for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek before looking up at him and his hopeful smile. He was trying, and failing, to pretend like your answer didn’t mean a lot to him.

‘Alright’ you hummed softly. ‘But you still need to rest’

He grinned and stepped back, grabbing his water bottle and towel before holding out his hand for you to take. ‘Let’s get out of here, gorgeous’

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haphazardlyannotated · 2 days ago

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With how much we as a fandom discuss what will happen to John in AtN, it's kind of surprising how little I've seen on what the future has in store for Alecto. Since I already love her, I've decided that won't do. So here's a bunch of possible endings for Alecto:

1.) Alecto dies (alongside John): We know that neither of them can die while the other one is alive, so if John dies in AtN the most likely result would be that Alecto does, too. There are several ways I could see this going down. To the subsections!

1.1) The cycle of violence: Alecto is killed unwillingly as collateral damage by someone who wants John dead more than they want her alive. This ending mirrors how John killed Alecto the first time trying to get revenge on the billionaires. I really hope this doesn't happen. Not only does Alecto deserve better, it also doesn't bode well for everyone else's future.

1.2) The self sacrifice: Alecto dies willingly so John can be killed. Slightly less horrible for her than replaying the trauma of her death and birth to the letter, but still pretty damn sad. We know from Nona that Alecto at the very least has the potential to love being alive. I want her to get that chance. But at least this ending gives her some agency.

1.3) The peaceful rest: In this version Alecto wants to die. Something something necromancy as a violation of the natural order, something something everyone John wanted to keep around died 10000 years ago and his desire to hold onto them only caused everyone pain, and so on. A more bittersweet ending. However, I still struggle to believe that the entirety of Nona didn't mean anything about Alecto's will to live. Nona accepts her death, but that's for the lack of a better option. I firmly believe that Nona is still a fundamental part of Alecto and I want her to have the chance to live and be happy again. The odds of survival for Gideon don't look good in this ending either. If keeping someone alive via necromancy is meant to be categorically bad, the only way we're getting a happy ending for griddlehark is on the other shore of the river.

2. Alecto stays alive as Alecto: We know Alecto doesn't like her current body, so this goes square in the middle for me.

2.1) The survivor: I know I was just talking about how John and Alecto live or die as the world's worst package deal, but to be fair, their situation is entirely unique. There could still be some way for Alecto to survive John's death. There's an entire book left to find loopholes. Alecto would probably have some kind of feeling about whatever ends up happening to John, but I don't think we've seen enough of her yet to know what these feelings would be. Not to mention, part of her soul is stuck in John, and I suspect it's a tad optimistic to think she'd get those parts back if he died. Killing him would leave her with a literal hole in her soul. My girl deserves better. In any case, I dont think this ending is likely. It's too neat and basic for a series like tlt. And besides, why have a 'perfect' solution when it's so much more fun to make characters choose between flawed options?

2.2) The wanderer: This one's not tied to Alecto remaining in a humanoid form, but I'm putting it here anyway. This ending sees Alecto leave the Houses behind to travel the universe. Possibly with someone else. John? Paul? Pyrrha? Varun? Who knows. This ending is pretty open and feels more like a new beginning, but it's also rather hopeful. I could live with that.

2.3) The probation officer: This would be a version of events where John survives and is sentenced (by anything from court to the narrative) to some version of restorative justice. In this ending Alecto finally gets to see John use her powers the way she intended. This is basically the antithesis to the cycle of violence ending. Whoever chose this weighed saving the innocent (Alecto/humanity) against punishing the guilty (John/the billionaires) and decided that Alecto's life matters more than revenge. While I'm not entirely happy keeping Alecto in a body she hates, I think it would be an otherwise satisfying, hopeful ending for her. And hey, maybe someone can give her a necromantic makeover.

3.) Alecto lives, but not as Alecto: I don't think it's unreasonable to think that the planet who became a girl, who became a different girl and then became the first girl again might end up going through another transformation.

3.1) The Resurrection Beast: What it says on the tin. I'm not sure if Alecto technically is one already, but who says she can't turn into an eldritch being even larger than the planet she used to be? Unless this is combined with a wanderer ending (probably alongside Varun), I see this more as a temporary step that happens during the finale. In this case, I am incapable of imagining as anything other than an even messier version of the Steven Universe future finale. John being eaten by RB Alecto would also be one of the few ways I can think of to achieve a John dies, Alecto lives ending.

3.2) The planet: I feel like I'm daying 'hopeful ending' too much, so I won't do so again. It's a good one, though. I picture Alecto walking into the sea and dissolving into foam like the Hans Christian Andersen version of the little mermaid as the planet comes back to life. I like this ending a lot, not only because it would be a happy ending for Alecto (but bittersweet enough for those who loved her to still be exquisitely painful), but also promises a chance of healing for the rest of the cast.

3.3) The Paul: Short version: Alecto and John do a Paul, but since John's just a guy and Alecto is literally the world, it's not an equal fusion like, well, Paul. This post already says everything about John's side of this better than I could, but I have some additional thoughts on what it would mean for Alecto. Because part of her is in John, right? Doing a Paul would return these parts to her and (hopefully) heal the damage John did when he ate part of her and stuffed the rest in her barbie form. I think this ending has a high potential of going into the planet ending as well.

And that's all the endings I can think of right now!

For everyone who read through this entire thing, please tell me which one of these endings you're hoping for. Here's a poll!

#tlt #the locked tomb #meta #is this a meta?#poll #alecto tlt #and i guess #john gaius #atn theories

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honeydippedfiction · 19 hours ago

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Say Please {JB9}

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Synopsis: Angel senses the weight Joe’s been carrying from Trey’s contract situation and the growing tension in the locker room, so she takes full control for the night—giving him a safe place to unravel, surrender, and breathe. Through gentle dominance, deep intimacy, and soft aftercare, she reminds him that he doesn’t have to carry the world alone.

Warnings: Suggestive/Spicy Scenes, Consensual BDSM/kink themes (light dominance/submission), Sexual content and explicit scenes, Power exchange dynamics (consensual), Teasing and edging, Sensory play (touch, temperature, etc.), Emotional vulnerability, Intimate partner dynamics with care and trust, Some language (mild profanity), Possible depiction of aftercare or emotional processing. MDNI🔞

WC: 4.6k

A/N: am I slowly loving more subby!Joe??

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Joe had been carrying it all week—the weight of headlines, locker room whispers, and the growing frustration of watching one of his best defenders left dangling in uncertainty. The Trey Hendrickson situation wasn’t just some back-office contract shuffle to him. It was personal. The Bengals front office was dragging their feet, slow-walking a player who’d bled for this team, who’d delivered again and again without question. Joe wasn’t a general manager. He didn’t sign checks. But he understood loyalty. He understood leadership. And he knew, without a doubt, what that kind of limbo could do to a man—to a locker room built on trust.

So yeah, he was feeling it.

Every unanswered text. Every vague “we’ll see” from upstairs. Every second Trey had to walk into practice and pretend he didn’t see the writing on the wall. Joe felt all of it.

Because Joe Burrow didn’t just play quarterback—he carried his team. He fought for his guys. Always.

But lately… even he was starting to come apart at the seams.

Angel had noticed the shift before he’d said a single word. She saw it in the way he stared at his phone too long after practice, thumbing through articles and updates that only seemed to drain him more. In the way his jaw flexed when he thought no one was watching. In the silence that followed him home—heavy, brittle, and thick enough to stretch between them like glass. He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. But something inside him was knotted tight, and it was pulling at everything else.

One evening, after another long day and an even longer meeting, Joe finally let it out.

“Angel,” he said, dropping his phone onto the kitchen counter with a sharp clatter. “I swear, it’s like they’re just dragging their feet on purpose. Trey’s been patient, the guy’s been patient, and it’s just—nothing. No progress. No answers. Just… waiting. And it’s tearing the locker room apart.”

Angel watched him carefully as he paced, hands running through his hair. “I get it,” she said softly. “It’s frustrating as hell. But you’re not the one making those calls. You’re not the one signing the checks.”

Joe shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. “I know that. But it feels like I’m stuck in the middle, you know? Like I’m supposed to keep everyone calm and focused when I’m losing my own patience. It’s like watching your family get burned and not being able to put the fire out.”

Angel stepped closer, reaching out to grab his hand, grounding him. “You’re not alone in this. You never have to be. You’re their leader, yes, but you’ve got us—me—right here. And I think maybe it’s okay to let yourself lean on that sometimes.”

He looked at her then, the usual sharp intensity softened by weariness. “I don’t want to be the guy who cracks. Who lets the pressure break him.”

“And you won’t be,” Angel said with quiet certainty. “But sometimes strength is knowing when to step back. When to take a breath. When to let someone else take care of you for a little while.”

Joe exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for a small, tired smile. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Angel smiled back, brushing a hand over his cheek. “And I’m not going anywhere. But tonight? Tonight, you’re giving me your whole attention. No contracts. No meetings. Just us.”

Joe nodded, a flicker of relief passing through his eyes. “Okay. I’m ready to forget all that for a while.”

Because Angel had seen firsthand what the world demanded from him. She knew how the pressure sank into his bones, how often he carried it in silence, how rarely he let himself fall apart. But not tonight. Tonight, she wasn’t asking. She was stepping in.

He didn’t need more words. He needed touch. Tenderness. Control handed over, if only for a little while.

She wasn’t just going to soothe the tension from his body.

She was going to quiet the storm in his mind.

Make him forget—just for tonight—that the weight of everyone else’s future sat on his shoulders.

And remind him, with every kiss, every breath, every inch of her presence, that he didn’t have to bear it all alone.

Σ>―🖤→

It started slow.

The soft click of their bedroom door echoed in the quiet, like the first drop of rain before a storm. Angel leaned against it for just a second, watching him. The golden glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across Joe’s bare chest as he sat reclined against the headboard, scrolling absently through his phone, completely unaware of the shift that was coming.

She moved like silk. Silent, purposeful. Each step forward was slow and deliberate, her hips swaying with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly the effect she had on him. The only thing she wore was one of his white button-down shirts—unbuttoned, open, loose around her frame and a black cotton thong. It fluttered slightly with her movement, barely concealing the curve of her breasts and the long, smooth lines of her thighs.

Joe didn’t notice her at first. But the second he glanced up, the second their eyes met—he froze mid-scroll, breath catching like he’d forgotten how to exhale.

“Put that down,” Angel said, voice velvet-soft but laced with command.

His fingers twitched. Then, without hesitation, he set the phone face-down on the nightstand. His head tilted, curiosity blooming behind his eyes—but he didn’t speak. Not yet.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but the rasp in his voice betrayed him.

Angel didn’t answer.

Instead, she climbed onto the bed, slow and steady—knee by knee—until she straddled his lap. She didn’t sit, didn’t touch him, just hovered above him, her presence a magnetic force he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Her scent curled around him, something warm and floral, and it nearly made him dizzy.

She reached out and traced his jawline with her fingertips, letting her nails drag lightly along the edge of his beard. The touch was electric, delicate, and just enough to make his skin prickle.

“You always take care of me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Joe’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, something tender and surprised crossed his face. “Angel…”

“Shh.” She pressed one finger to his lips, soft but firm. “No talking. Not unless I say so.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Joe exhaled, his shoulders slumping in surrender. She felt the shift in him—that quiet, willing submission that only she could pull from him. His arms rested at his sides, hands flexing like he didn’t quite know what to do with them.

Angel leaned in and kissed him—slow, deep, coaxing. Not rushed. Not needy. Just firm and full of intent. Her tongue swept past his lips with aching control, mapping him like he was hers to consume. Joe groaned low in his throat, hands twitching, aching to grab her—but he didn’t. He held back.

When she finally pulled away, his lips chased hers, desperate.

“Hands behind your head,” she said.

He froze. Just for a second.

Not in reluctance—just in awe.

“You trust me, don’t you?” she asked, watching him closely.

Joe nodded once, the movement slow and reverent. “Always.”

“Then let go.”

He obeyed.

Arms lifted, elbows wide, fingers laced behind his head. The position made his chest stretch, muscles tense. He looked at her like she held the whole world between her hands—and right now, she did.

Angel shifted her weight forward, settling just barely into his lap, brushing against the hard length of him with nothing but the warm press of her skin and the ghost of her shirt between them. But still—no pressure, no release. Just friction. Just a whisper of touch.

Joe let out a strangled sound, eyes fluttering shut. “Baby—”

“I said,” she whispered, dragging her mouth along the edge of his jaw, “no talking.”

Her teeth grazed his neck, then soothed the sting with her tongue. The dual sensation made his hips jerk involuntarily, but he quickly stilled again, muscles trembling with restraint.

“Be good for me,” she murmured.

His jaw clenched. She could see how hard he was working to obey her. How every instinct in him wanted to take control—wanted to flip her under him and claim her. But he didn’t. Not even when she rocked forward just enough to make them both feel the sharp edge of tension that crackled in the space between breath and contact.

“You’re always in control,” she whispered against his skin. “But not tonight.”

Joe’s lips parted, but no words came out. Only a sharp inhale that shuddered through his chest.

“Look at you…” Her fingers traced down his chest, nails light and teasing, following the line between his abs. “So strong. So disciplined. But you’re mine right now. Just mine.”

“Angel,” he breathed, voice wrecked.

“Color?” she asked, pulling back to study him.

His eyes met hers—glassy, wild, completely gone. “Green. Fucking green.”

She smiled, soft and wicked all at once. “Good boy.”

And then she kissed her way down his body, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in her wake. She didn’t rush. She wasn’t here to rush. Every inch of him got the same reverent attention—his chest, his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips. Joe trembled beneath her, his knuckles white where his hands were still locked behind his head.

He was unraveling. Slowly. Beautifully.

And Angel had never loved him more than she did in that moment—strong, powerful Joe, offering up his whole self to her with nothing but trust and aching need.

This wasn’t just about control.

It was about care.

About showing him that surrender didn’t mean weakness. That being held could be just as powerful as holding on.

And she would make sure he felt every second of it.

Angel lingered at his waistline, her breath ghosting over his skin, waiting until she felt him twitch beneath her again—impossibly hard, aching, and completely still under her command. She looked up at him, slow and deliberate, and the sight of Joe—head tipped back, jaw clenched, eyes half-lidded with want—made her chest ache with something almost reverent.

She let her fingers dip under the waistband of his boxers, teasing, curling just beneath the elastic. But she didn’t pull them down. Not yet. Instead, she lowered her mouth and pressed a kiss just above the line, maddeningly slow. Her tongue dragged a single, deliberate circle beside the place he needed her most—never quite touching, just enough to make him suffer.

Then she finally gave him a taste of what he wanted.

She reached down, curling her fingers around him, her touch feather-light at first—just enough to make him moan under his breath.

“Angel…” His voice cracked around her name, heavy with desperation.

Her grip tightened slightly, thumb swiping over the head as she stroked him once, slow and firm. She watched his abs contract, the way his whole body arched toward her without even realizing it.

“Keep those hands where they are,” she warned, voice low, sultry.

“I’m trying,” he groaned, the strain thick in his voice.

“I know, baby,” she purred, leaning forward to kiss along his hip. “You’re doing so good for me.”

And he was. Joe was trembling—his thighs tense, breathing shallow, the effort of holding back visible in every flex of his muscles. But he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t reached for her. He gave her everything she asked, and then some.

Angel rewarded him.

Her mouth replaced her hand in one slow, smooth motion. She took her time, savoring him. Letting him feel every flick of her tongue, every drag of her lips. She moaned softly around him, not just to drive him crazy—but because she genuinely loved this. Loved the way he came undone for her. Loved that she had the power to strip him bare like this—his ego, his control, everything.

Joe gasped, his hips bucking once before he forced them still again. He was so close already, she could feel it.

“Angel—fuck, baby, I—” His voice was raw now, like it was being torn from the deepest part of him.

She pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing the tip of him.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “You don’t come until I say so.”

Joe whimpered.

That’s right—whimpered.

Angel smiled, proud and wicked, and kissed her way back up his body, unhurried, reverent. Her lips grazed the curve of his hipbone, then traveled upward along the lean stretch of his torso, warm breath skating across each inch she passed. She paused at the hollow just above his waistband, where his abs fluttered beneath her mouth, and dragged her teeth across his skin—not hard, but enough to make him twitch.

Her nails followed, raking lightly up his ribs, leaving behind faint pink trails. She traced the shape of him like he was something she was studying, memorizing—not the Joe the world knew, but her Joe. Her masterpiece. Her man undone.

She pressed her chest against his, the curve of her breasts brushing his bare skin as she slid her lips along his jawline.

“You’re mine tonight,” she whispered. “And I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He nodded helplessly, his fingers twitching behind his head like he was seconds away from losing it.

Joe’s body was already shaking. His chest heaved, muscles tight, veins standing out along his arms where his hands remained locked behind his head. His eyes—blown wide, glassy with heat—tracked her every move like he couldn’t decide whether to beg her or worship her.

“Angel,” he rasped, his voice cracking like it was scraped raw. “I’m gonna lose it.”

A slow smile curled across her lips. “Good.”

Joe’s hips jerked upward before he could stop himself, a soft, broken sound escaping his throat.

Angel pulled back, eyes sharp. “You move again, and I stop.”

The threat landed like a shot. He froze instantly, like someone hit pause on every nerve in his body. Still, trembling, straining.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, the words slipping out like instinct.

Angel’s breath hitched at the sound—God, that tone in his voice, that perfect blend of desperation and devotion. She kissed the center of his chest, where his heart pounded wild beneath her lips, and trailed her way back up until she straddled his hips again.

She was bare beneath the shirt now, the open front draping around them like a curtain—her skin flush against his, heat to heat, need to need.

Reaching up, she unhooked his arms from behind his head, gently guiding them down until his hands lay flat on either side of him.

“Keep them there,” she whispered.

Joe nodded once, lips parted, eyes never leaving hers.

Angel shifted forward, pressing the slick heat of her center against the solid length of him through the fabric. There was no friction, just presence—just the aching tease of what was about to come.

“Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice like velvet wrapping around him as she rolled her hips ever so slightly.

Joe’s eyes fluttered shut, jaw tightening as he groaned. “Fuck—Angel…”

“That’s what you do to me,” she murmured. “Just being in the room. Just breathing. You drive me insane. But tonight…”

She reached for his face, cradling his jaw between both hands, forcing his gaze back to hers. Her thumb swept across his bottom lip.

“Tonight, you’re mine.”

Joe looked like he was seconds away from breaking. From worshiping. From giving her anything she wanted.

“You don’t come until I say,” she said softly.

“I won’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “Baby, I’m not gonna last…”

“Yes, you will,” she said, voice low and sure, her lips brushing his. “Because I said so.”

Then she finally took him.

Slowly.

Exquisitely.

She sank down onto him inch by inch, making sure he felt every agonizing, perfect second of it. His head tipped back against the headboard with a strangled cry, fists clenching at his sides. She didn’t move yet—just let him sit inside her, deep and still, their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible.

“Jesus, Angel…”

She started to move—slow, rolling, deliberate. Her pace was maddening, just enough to push him closer and pull him back in the same breath. Her hands braced against his chest, nails raking lightly as she rocked her hips.

Joe’s eyes devoured her. The way her curls spilled over her shoulders. The soft part of her lips. The way her body moved like she was born for this—like she was made to ruin him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she praised, dragging her hips deeper, slower. “So fucking good, baby.”

Angel kissed him again—deeper, needier this time. Her hips rolled against his, teasing him with the barest friction. She could feel the tension pulsing through his entire body, and still he didn’t touch her.

“Such a good boy,” she murmured against his lips. “Letting me take everything I want. Letting me have you.”

“Please…” Joe’s voice was broken now. Full of want, full of love. “Please, baby. Let me touch you. Let me feel you.”

Angel pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye.

Her voice was soft, her power absolute. “Only when I say.”

He nodded again, eyes glassy. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

That sent a bolt of heat straight through her.

She guided him down flat against the bed, straddling him again, this time fully settling onto him—his hard length pressed directly beneath her, separated by nothing but heat and tension and the slick proof of how much she needed this, too.

She braced her hands on his chest, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm.

Joe nearly sobbed.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss the sweat from his brow. “Let go for me, baby. Let me do all the work.”

And she did.

She rode him slow, deliberately, with deep, aching control—pulling back every time he got close, drawing it out until his body was vibrating beneath her with restraint. Until he was whispering her name like a prayer, like a plea, like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

Joe was gasping now, chest slick with sweat, muscles locked tight beneath her. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grab her. To flip her. To take over.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, broken. “Please, Angel—please.”

Angel leaned down, brushing her lips along the shell of his ear. “Say it again.”

“Please,” he whispered, and it wasn’t just lust. It was surrender.

She took his hands, guided them gently to her hips. “Now hold on.”

And she rode him harder.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deeper. Fiercer. Her rhythm picked up heat and purpose, her body moving like a storm building toward its peak. She stayed in control—always in control—but gave him just enough to keep him on the edge of falling apart.

Joe was losing it. His grip on her hips tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“Angel—fuck—I—I can’t—please—can I—?”

When she finally let him come, it was with her hands holding his face, her lips pressed to his temple, her voice murmuring soft praise between each kiss.

She cut him off with a kiss, deep and possessive. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip before she whispered against his mouth, “Now.”

Joe shattered.

He came hard, every inch of him trembling, crying out her name like it was the only word he knew. He clung to her, his arms pulling her down, burying his face against her neck as wave after wave rolled through him.

She held him through all of it, letting her own orgasm crash seconds after—her body locking, trembling against his, their breath becoming one as they unraveled together.

When it was over, they collapsed into a tangled heap of sweat, slick skin, and love. Angel laid against his chest, her cheek pressed to his heart, both of them still shaking, still catching their breath.

Joe’s voice broke the silence, husky and reverent. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Angel smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his damp collarbone. “But what a way to go.”

Σ>―🖤→

Joe was still trembling.

Even minutes after it was over—after the heat, the moans, the ache of her body around him and the way she drew him out like he was made only for her—his body hadn’t stopped shaking. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, breath still chasing itself like he’d run miles. His arms, once rigid with restraint, now hung loosely around her waist, fingertips brushing her back in barely-there twitches like he was still grounding himself.

Angel felt it. Every flutter. Every pulse. The slight quiver in his thighs as they rested tangled with hers. The heat still clinging to his skin. His heartbeat thudding against her cheek as she lay sprawled across his chest, her legs slotted around his, sweat drying between them like a second skin. He had given her everything—every last ounce of control—and now, she could feel how much it had drained him.

She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss just above his heart. “Hey,” she murmured. “You okay?”

Joe nodded faintly, eyes still closed. “Yeah. Just…” He swallowed, trying to even out his breathing. “Still floating.”

A soft smile curved her lips. She kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, then lower—his neck, his collarbone—each touch slower than the last, like she was tucking pieces of herself back into him. “You did so good for me,” she whispered, fingers stroking his ribs.

A low, blissed-out sound rumbled in his chest, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. His arms tightened around her just enough to let her know he was still here. Still trying to process what the hell she’d just done to him.

“That was…” He blinked, finally daring to open his eyes. They were hazy, dazed. Beautifully wrecked. “Fucking insane.”

Angel chuckled softly, nuzzling against his neck. “Too much?��

He shook his head immediately, eyes searching hers. “Not even close. Just…” He paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever let go like that before.”

Her heart tugged at the rawness in his voice. She brought her hand to his face, cupping his jaw as her thumb brushed through the damp curls at his temple. “That’s what I’m here for, baby,” she murmured. “You don’t always have to hold everything together.”

He leaned into her touch like it was the only thing anchoring him. His lashes fluttered shut, jaw relaxing beneath her palm.

Angel kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let me take care of you.”

He didn’t argue.

When she shifted off him, he groaned softly at the loss of her warmth but let her guide him up. His legs wobbled as his feet touched the floor, knees momentarily forgetting how to hold him. She caught him at the waist with a quiet laugh, steadying him before he could fall.

“Shit,” he muttered with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed pink. “You really wore me out.”

“That was the goal,” she said with a wink, pecking his lips. “And I think I nailed it.”

She led him to the bathroom slowly, her hand laced with his. The amber light clicked on with a soft hum, casting a golden glow over the tiled space. Joe sat on the edge of the tub, head tipped back against the cool tile as his chest rose and fell, slower now but still uneven. Angel turned on the faucet, her movements practiced, calm. She adjusted the temperature with care, testing the water with her hand, then reached for the small bottle of eucalyptus bath oil she kept tucked away. A few drops hit the surface, and within seconds, steam and scent filled the room—sharp, soothing, familiar.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw him watching her, quiet and soft-eyed.

Angel padded back to him and knelt in front of him. “Arms up.”

He obeyed without a word, raising his arms so she could peel the damp T-shirt from his skin. Her hands were tender, reverent, not teasing anymore—this was no longer about seduction. It was about care. Devotion. She slid the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, then hooked her fingers in his waistband and tugged his boxers down, inch by inch, until he stepped out of them. She undressed herself next, slowly, eyes never leaving his.

Then she reached for his hand and helped him into the bath.

The moment Joe’s body sank into the hot water, he exhaled like it was the first real breath he’d taken in hours. His head fell back, lips parting on a groan as the heat enveloped him, loosening the tightness in his limbs.

Angel slid in behind him, her thighs cradling his hips as she pulled him gently against her chest. His head rested beneath her chin. She wrapped her arms around his torso and whispered into his ear, “I got you.”

And Joe—he melted.

His body softened completely, the tension finally bleeding out of him like steam rising from the water. He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. He just let her hold him.

Angel reached for the washcloth and soaked it, wringing it out before bringing it to his chest. She moved slowly, deliberately, washing away the sweat and salt, the remnants of everything he’d given her. Her fingers traced the curve of his shoulders, the cut of his arms, the dip of his collarbone. She kissed his shoulder. Then the space behind his ear that always made him shiver.

That’s when he said it, voice barely more than a breath: “I don’t deserve you.”

Angel stilled. Her hand, mid-stroke, froze just above his heart.

“Don’t say that,” she said softly.

“But it’s true.” His voice cracked on the words. “You give and give and I—I just…”

“Joe.” Her arms slid tighter around him, anchoring him to her body. “You give too. You love me with everything you have. You always have. Even when it’s messy. Even when you’re tired.”

He turned slightly, enough to catch her eyes. “But I need you like this,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be without you. Not anymore.”

Angel pressed her cheek to his damp skin, holding him like a promise. “You’ll never have to be.”

Silence settled over them again—thick but comforting. The only sound was the gentle lap of water and the whisper of their breath. She reached for the shampoo and lathered it gently into his curls, massaging his scalp in slow, circular motions. Joe sighed so deeply it shook them both. His shoulders dropped. His head tilted into her hands.

She washed him like a man who had nothing to prove. Like someone she was choosing again and again, even in his stillness. Especially in his stillness.

When they stepped out of the tub, skin flushed from heat, she wrapped him in a towel and dried him off tenderly, like he was fragile. Like he mattered. And he let her.

Back in bed, Joe curled into her like muscle memory. His head on her chest, her fingers laced with his. Angel ran her nails lightly over his scalp, the other hand drawing soft lines along his back.

“You’re safe,” she whispered into his hair. “Loved. Needed.”

Joe kissed her collarbone, lips barely moving. “You’re everything.”

She smiled, her arms circling him tighter.

Tonight, she had taken control—not just of his body, but of the quiet parts of him he rarely gave away. And now, as the storm settled and the world narrowed to the sound of his breathing and her heartbeat, she held him in the afterglow like he was precious.

Because he was.

This—this was love.

Not just the fire.

But the care after the flames.

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