#airport parking space

[turbomnstr]

[ritualis]

got so lucky with the south terminal departure. it's 4:33am and not a soul is here, the doors aren't even unlocked yet. it's bliss. it's definitely a liminal space at this juncture in time.

did I mention the lights are funky and y'all know how much I love them funky lights

ABIA, South Terminal, 4am

[always-is-always]

230319 'BTS' 지민, 엔딩요정 잘생김 가득 - RNX tv

So the fans have gone next level in SK.  I just watched Jiminie’s arrival at ICN, and I couldn’t believe how AGGRESSIVE some of the women were.  They acted just like those in NYC that practically pounced on him.  Unbelieveable.   People need to back off and give Jimin the space and respect as a Human Being.  His security staff at ICN were challenged by the massive push of bodies behind him, as he was walking out of the airport.  Unbelieveable and unacceptable. 

Jiminie must be protected.  No matter what, he must be protected from that type of aggression.  

There were ARMYs there who were totally respectful.  The others aren’t ARMY.  They are just crazed fans.  Big difference.   

[megalynnan]

Trump rally at noon in a park in Las Vegas.

We are in a heatwave and while this isn't the hottest day of the week, it's not cool.

Here is too hoping someone gets some heat exhaustion.

[brainddeadd]

quinn’s gf coming to the lake house for the first time and coming a bit later than everyone else, quinn has been grumpier than usual and than he gets his gf and he’s so much happier

Quinn is pouting.

At least.. that's what Jack told Petey, who told Brock who told you.

"He's being pathetic. Tell her to hurry up." Are the exact words Jack used. Brock felt it was important that you knew exactly the type of bullying Quinn was being subjected to in your absence.

Luke was much more direct, sending you a message that simply said: "come fix him" followed by a picture of Quinn sitting outside, alone, shoulders hunched forwards, phone in hand.

This leads to where you are now: sitting in the airport waiting for Jack to come and pick you up to take you back to the lake house three days ahead of schedule.

"He's really missed you," Jack doesn't wait for you to settle into your seat. "And not in a 'heh, what a loser' kinda way. In a 'I think he'd leave if he had to spend another day without you' kinda way."

Looking over at the boy, you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. "He wouldn't leave. He's got you guys."

"Yn," Jack sounds exasperated. "He misses you in a way I didn't know someone could miss another. In a way I cannot even begin to comprehend because I've never been in love the way he is with you. He would have left days ago if he didn't know you were coming to see him."

The rest of the drive is silent until he's pulling in the street that leads to the house.

"I missed him too." Your voice is quiet, and Jack almost misses your words. "My boss sent me home early yesterday because I was in such a bad mood. She told me to 'kiss my man or whatever I need to do' before I came back."

Jack chuckles at that. "Except you couldn't cause he was here and not there."

Nodding, he reaches over and taps your shoulder comfortingly before pulling into a parking space next to another car.

"Go see him, I'll get your bags." Rushing out a 'thank you', you're running into the house and past Trevor, who simply points out the back door.

Flinging the door open, you can see Quinn sitting down on the dock, shoulders slumped, and head hanging.

Your feet carry you quickly, and soon, your footsteps are thumping on the wooden dock, drawing Quinn's attention.

"Luke I swear-" Quinn cuts himself off when he sees it's you sprinting down the dock, barely having time to twist his body enough to catch you as you fling yourself into his arms, colliding with his body and sending Quinn toppling onto his back. His arms wind around your waist, a hand working its way into your hair as he presses you close to him, a happy sigh leaving his lips.

"What the fuck?" He doesn't dare pull away from you. "I thought you-"

"Boss let me come early. And Jack picked me up from the airport."

"Thank fuck for Jack," he pulls back just enough to capture your lips with his, body relaxing at the contact.

That night, as you're all sitting around the living room, his phone buzzes with a text from Trevor. It's a video of you running to him and your kiss on the dock and a photo of you sitting in his lap, wrapped up together in front of the bonfire from later in the evening.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

Part 1 Master List

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find your clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[kookiecrumb]

Too Big.

cw: adult content (18+), smut

pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

wc: <1000

tags: light smacking, it hurts for like a second, graphic language, looooove (bf!jungkook), one shot, short fic, unbetaed, written in about an hour, bigdick!jungkook, idol au

summary: you fly out to meet your boyfriend after being long distance for a while and to do something special for the first time.

a/n: here!

~

You had to put it out of your mind that it was going to happen tonight.

After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, Jungkook was finally going to be right in front of you, completely naked, looking at you in a way that you’ve never experienced before.

Before all that, though, you needed to get picked up from the airport, arrive at his place, shower, and have something to eat.

The flight was excruciating to say the least. Your knees poked into your chest, practically, as you tried not to think too hard about how you were forced into invading your fellow passenger’s personal space by the stupid cabin engineer’s greedy design.

Whatever. It will be over soon and you’ll be up and out of this flying metal tube in the sky in a little over an hour.

You tried not to wince as you reached down for your bag to pluck a bag of seaweed snacks from one of the side pockets. They only charge so much for food at the airport because they know you don’t have any other option.

What are you gonna do? Pick up your car from the overnight parking garage two miles from the airport, drive all the way to the closest McDonald’s, repark your car, walk back to the airport and go through TSA again, all in time for your flight?

Ridiculous.

You’ve never been able to properly sleep on airplanes, so for the rest of the way to Incheon, you delicately balanced your tablet on the sad excuse of a cabin tray and watched your downloaded episodes on Netflix.

Sarah Jessica Parker was so hot back in the day. Retrospectively, though, Kristen Davis was criminally underrated in the earlier seasons. You crossed your arms and waited for the plane to hit the ground running.

—

You had this idea that you were hard to make cum. You weren’t able to do it when taking a dildo, so you figured it would be difficult for you to cum on Jungkook’s dick. No big deal. That wasn’t really the point, anyways.

Not only did you cum on Jungkook’s dick, you were able to several times while he was still inside you, pumping and smacking his hips against you in missionary position as your legs pinned his thighs, bucking upwards to take in as much of him as you physically could.

He’d hold you in his arms and look down at you with his long hair. He would look kind of cute at this angle if he didn’t have such a determined and almost fierce look on his face while he pushed on your thighs to get you to give a little bit.

He fucked you shallow. He methodically placed your hands beside your head to make sure they were out of the way of his arms, pressing into the mattress to offset his harder thrusts.

!!

That’s when you felt a sharp pain deep in your gut. “Ow!” You chirped.

“Ow?!” Jungkook echoed, alarmed. “What? Did I hurt you?!” He pulled away, breathing heavily. Jungkook was kneeling on the bed, a look of concern washing his face as he postured his cock with his right hand.

“I’m not sure…” you frowned. “What happened?”

“I was just getting all the way in. Was that not comfortable at all?”

You glanced down at Jungkook’s cock. Fully hard, he was almost 8 inches long. On top of that, he had exceptional girth. He was just a little bit bigger than the dildo you had at home.

In fact, it was that very dildo that he gifted you to practice with one day that felt so small compared to him in actuality.

After a while of no response, Jungkook added: “It felt really good. I couldn’t really get all the way in until just a second ago and that’s when you said ‘ow’.”

“I think you might be just a little bit… too big,” you hesitated, surprised at the reality of things.

“I’ve heard it before. I’m sorry for hurting you.” Jungkook said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“It’s okay. I still think you’re really hot. Do you think you could help me take your size?” You ask.

“Yeah. Of course. We can do it together. Here. Let me try from the side or back,” he prompts, shifting around so that he is almost spooning you.

He moves your leg over his side and uses his thumb and index to very lightly graze your labia to find your vagina.

He’s found it.

His fat tip splits you as he dives into your sweet and tight intimacy. He scoops your arms up so that your back lay flush against his chest and nips your ear between his teeth. “Is that better?” He puffs, an intoxicated smile spreading on his tender lips.

“Yeah~” you sigh, throwing away every unrelated thought out the window as you took in every drop of sweet fucking that he was giving you.

“Good~” he groans. His hands settle down on your hips as he bottoms out on you, tangibly snug against your cervix. He thrusts experimentally, rolling in.

Again, he rolls in and firmly pressed the tip of his cock against your cervix, his large hands cupping your hips.

“Fuck— Babe,” you whine. “More—“ was all you can manage.

“More?” He teases, pulling out just to smack back into you. His arms catch you in a close embrace as he screws your tight pussy. He fucks you with his leg over your thigh, curving his long, thick cock into you in a strict rhythm.

Not missing a beat, he spreads you on the bed and digs his knees into the mattress. He is now over you, his cock shifting inside of you. “That good?” He asks briefly.

“Mhm,” you insist, your head turned against a large and fluffy pillow.

Holy fuck was this an amazing view. Jungkook balanced on one hand to quickly jiggle your ass and smack it lightly, moaning at the sight. He wanted to bury his face in your cunt and suffocate in your thighs. The idea of being able to fuck you like this with his fat cock made him want to—

“Fuck! Y/N, you’re so hot,” he mumbled as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you.

Your mind was in a daze. There was nothing you could focus on expect the deep, pleasurable, satisfying sensation of your boyfriend filling you. His skin felt like soft warm sand on a beach, his languid thrusts milking every bit of delectation from your body.

You swell and contract around him, constricting his cock inside of you, which earns you a drawn out groan from Jungkook. He huffs.

Without much warning, your orgasm rolls over you. Jungkook staggers and rips out a soft, exhausted groan as he cums inside of you.

—

He kisses your cheeks and lips, turning you towards him. His forehead rests on yours. “I love you. I love you very much,” he says. “I will never ever hurt you. If it hurts again, you need to tell me.”

~

fic tag: @silversparkles11 , @lvoekook @sammy-steve-btsarmyakasammy, @kooliv @koobsessed @angelwonie , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy @hgema , @jjkeverlast, @nglmrk @devilsbooksworld @saweetspoiled , @exactlyfuriouscoffee and @unicornbabylover

[ceesimz]

Reverie - Part 1

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - Part 2

Hey, I have some things to say before you start reading. ASD is a very vast spectrum, no two people with it experience the same stuff on a day-to-day basis. This story is written with my knowledge from people I know, and also from my own experiences living with autism too. So don't take this as 'the' perspective, this is a drop in the ocean and this most definitely isn't a handbook on autism. If anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, or ASD in general, you are more than welcome to message me or drop something in my inbox! This is just part one, if you like this first half of the story (because I have no idea how this will go down), let me know if you wanna see the second part, it's ready to go whenever.

Big big thanks to @copper-16 for editing it and leaving such lovely comments on it, I wouldn't have the confidence to post this if it wasn't for your words. Thank you for taking a chance on this story and opening yourself up to learn more, the world needs more people like you and we're all much better off that you're here🫶🏼🫶🏼

This is my favourite thing I've ever written, and I kinda feel like I'm giving away a piece of my heart by posting this (dramatic much), let me know what you think, hope you like it :)

“Are you ready to go in?”

Are you?

Are you ready to walk into a new setting, head held high, and show your teammates you are worth it? 

Or are you going to back out? Reverse right out the parking space, speed off to the airport, and catch a flight to god knows where?

That's simply not a possibility. Even if the thought of walking through those reception doors that stare tauntingly at you from across the car park perturbs you more than anything else, there's no backing out now.

Barcelona, the pride of Catalunya, the dominants of Europe, doesn't accept quitters. And that fact glares at you, along with all of its history and values held in the iconic badge that countless legends had adorned, and with it came a legacy you weren’t sure you had the strength to bare on your back. The new number nine, born and raised in Norway but made into the player you are now in Germany.

Here you were, after five years playing for Frankfurt, where you had grown accustomed to a comfortable routine with familiar faces and the same surroundings for so long, now in a new country that held so many unknowns. For someone with so many disadvantages ever present in their life, living in three different countries is a pretty impressive achievement.

Please, let it all be worth it.

After a few frustrating years in the Frauen-Bundesliga, you had signed for the best team in Europe and, arguably, the rest of the world too. Frankfurt had been a beautiful experience, one that had changed your life, but as a result of many, many long discussions with family and friends and psychologists, you had come to the terrifying realisation that it was time for a new challenge.

Why was that absolutely petrifying? Because you and life changes did not get along. Even after 26 years of living, it just wasn’t meant to be. But, such is life, and chances had to be taken.

You'd always be thankful for Frankfurt. Moving to play there was the first time you took such a huge leap of faith, and it had worked out well, eventually. In your eyes, the first season there was a disaster, but your mother would say it was the proudest year of her life. It had been difficult for her to see at times just how much you struggled at points, sure, but you made it to the light at the end of the tunnel and, by the end of it, you were a completely different person in the most incredible way possible. From then on, you continued to grow.

Yet, that was the thing with the German side. When you joined, they were a club with a legacy most teams would envy, but they never amounted to anything more during your time there. You fell in love with the staff, your teammates, and just about everything else during your time there. The only problem, which was pretty damn big in the grand scheme of things, was that you fell out of love with the football you were playing.

You were able to grow and survive at Frankfurt. You wanted to flourish and thrive at Barcelona.

Except, in comparison to the average human, there were a lot more obstacles ahead that could prevent you from accomplishing that aspiration. Over your life, you had overcome many bumps in the road, some leaving a harsh imprint on your self-worth and others hardly affecting you. For example, talking to the girl you were roomed with at 16 at the Norway Football Team camp had turned out to be one of the best things you could have done. Yet, in the same breath, playing for the national team had left you in a broken state, and as a result, you haven't played for them in a few years. 

The back and forth travel was too much, and opting out of playing for Norway, as much as it broke your heart that you weren’t strong enough to represent your country on the international stage, it allowed you to rest and recuperate so that you were at the top of your game for your club. Did you dream of wearing your country’s crest one day? Yes, all footballers did. But you weren’t in a place to do that, and you’re not sure you ever will be again.

Signing for Barcelona could be life-changing, but it could also be world-shattering in the worst way imaginable. This was a pretty sizable leap of faith, and the only way that faith could form into something incredible is if you made that happen. You, no one else. That thought filled you with both determination and crushing anxiety. This just could not be another failed attempt. There was no way you could come back.

Ultimately, it would have been downright psychopathic to turn down such an amazing offer from Barcelona. Two years playing for a club that's won three of the last four Champion's League finals? A team that had just completed the quadruple for the first time in their history? Yeah, nonsensical.

However, like always, there were a number of doubts that spiralled from those incredible stats. Did they need you? If they had a mostly flawless season, did they really need a 26 year old woman whose mind hardly functioned like every other person? Did they really need someone who couldn't even play for the national team anymore because they were too overwhelmed with their life? Did they need someone who needed their hand held through every life event, big or small? Did they-

“Hey, you ready?” 

That voice had some kind of magic to it. It was like clock-work, this always happened when she was around; that voice in your head consuming you with unwanted thoughts was erased as soon as you tore your eyes away from the doors and looked at the woman beside you. 

Ingrid. The one person that had single-handedly convinced you to come here. To Barcelona, playing in a hot country, with people you don’t know, speaking a language you can’t understand- oh my God, what have you done?!

“I… god, I don’t know.” You breathed out in a whisper, hardly intelligible. 

The world around you honed in on this one moment here, the peak of your career so far. Apart from Ingrid and the doors to the building and what was in store behind them, there was nothing else that could grasp your attention. There could be a blazing fire behind your car, a lion running full speed towards your car door, or a thief in the back seat for all you knew. Nothing else mattered. The two sides of your mind, the devil and angel on your shoulders were battling it out again, as they always were, whilst your hands fidgeted anxiously in your lap.

“You have to go in at some point, snuppa. You can’t stay in the car forever.” Ingrid softly reminded you, moving to take hold of your hand to comfort your stimming. “It will be a really good day, I promise. My years here so far have been the best of my life, everyone is so nice and welcoming. I never thought I could enjoy training as much as I do now. You will be fine, I have no doubts.”

“I’m not sure about that one.” You laughed nervously, eyes back on the building before you, now slightly glazed over and blurred. 

“I am certain about everything I just said.” Ingrid stated definitively, squeezing your hand. “Plus, not everyone in there are complete strangers. You have me, Mapi, you know Caro and you’ve met Jonatan and some other staff members. You know Loren, the team psychologist who you can go see any time you want. We’ll get you past this part of today, and then you have the whole afternoon to do whatever you’d like.”

You nodded at her words, desperately trying to remind yourself of them over and over so that they stick, and you can get through those damn doors. 

“You know how much easier my life would be if I knew how everything was going to play out?” You blurted out a moment later, Ingrid smiling in amusement. “It would be a breeze, Ingrid.”

“It would also make your life very boring, min skatt.”

“For you, it would be. For me, I'd live freely.”

Ingrid just laughed and shook her head, squeezing your hand once more before looking at the time on her watch.

“Come on. We have to do this one way or another, and I'm not letting you go in on your own. You want to make me late to training?” She teased, targeting your weak spot. Evil.

“That's cruel, Ingrid. So cruel.” You rolled your eyes but nevertheless stepped out of the car once you'd turned it off.

You didn't make it far though. Once you had gotten your kit bag from the boot of the car, you closed it and froze. Eyes unmoving from the daunting building in front of you.

“Would you like some company after training? We can stay at home, or go out for food, or do anything you'd like.” Ingrid offered, snapping you out of your anxious trance.

Even after… god, ten years now, you were still sometimes left dumb-founded by how well Ingrid knew you. A lot of the time, you yourself are in the dark about what you need, but your fellow Norwegian just gets it, even when you don't. It's pretty safe to say that your life, your whole career, would look a hell of a lot different if you had never met Ingrid.

If you put her characteristics into a different section when it comes to your favourite things about her, the thing you love most about the defender beside you is how she treats you. Sure, the majority of people treated you with respect and kindness, but the defender's love and care was on a whole other level. Like in this scenario now, when she knows you're too overwhelmed by the situation that confronts you to be able to think clearly. But here she is, giving you clear and thought-out options that off-kilt the tunnel vision you have on this one miniscule event, and now gives you something to look forward to. 

It reminds you that the world won't end if this training session doesn't go how you want it to, that life goes on afterwards. It makes the road clearer, the journey easier, and allows solace to be found in a down-right terrifying moment.

The funny thing is, however, is that your new home is actually Ingrid's home. No, you weren't living with her, but you were indeed staying in her apartment. She basically lived at Mapi's apartment anyway, so the second she caught wind of your transfer, she immediately offered her disregarded apartment up to you. It was a huge item checked off the ‘things that need doing after uprooting your entire settled, content, perfectly routine life’ to-do list, but you couldn't quite relish in the relief yet.

That's because, though it went unsaid, another factor of Ingrid's offer of letting you stay was so that, if all went wrong and you couldn't make a life for yourself in Barcelona, there was no tenancy to rip up and ultimately it would be a lot less hassle than if you had rented an entirely new place. Ingrid's excuse of not changing your name on the tenancy for now was so that you could settle in with as little stress as possible, but you knew the underlying meaning. Basically, it was a giant get out of jail free card.

“I think I would like that a lot, actually. Thanks.” You said to the taller girl next to you, whose arm had come to wrap around your shoulders.

“Perfect! María has some things to do but I'm free all afternoon, so we can figure something out. For now though, we have to train.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded once more.

“That's all it is. Just training.” You told yourself, physically shaking the anxiety off of your chest and marching forwards. You got as far as those damn doors before you froze on the spot again. “Fuck, this is so scary.”

“I know it is.” Ingrid sympathised, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “We've got this though. It's just training, right?” 

“It's just training. And a few introductions. And about a million new people.” You sighed. “Will you stick with me the whole time?”

“Like glue, søster.” Ingrid said firmly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let's go.”

And just like that, you did walk into the building with your head held high, disregarding the burdening nerves and replacing them with a deep-rooted determination to prove you are worth it. Maybe your teammates would think otherwise if they knew the secret you were keeping from them, but for now, you would put up a front and act just like them. Your best bet at succeeding here is to fit in, and that's what you'll do. 

Ingrid wasn't impressed with this tactic of yours, not in the slightest. Jonatan and other senior staff members knew about you, Loren the psychologist knew about you, and Mapi knew. Besides that, everyone else was in the dark. There was only so long Ingrid could last before she had to tell someone at least, like Alexia or Irene or Marta, because she wanted the best for you and the best couldn't be given if your needs weren't catered for.

Like now, as she watched your whole face change in a split second as the mask came down so fast that, had she blinked a second later, she would have missed it entirely. The tension to the way you held your shoulders was all the evidence she needed that your whole nervous system was wracked with dread, and though she should expect it by now, it didn't stop the jab of sympathy she felt for you.

Of course she knew how difficult this would be for you, she just had really high hopes. Sometimes, even after all these years, it slipped her mind how much you still struggled with things. You'd gotten a lot better at dealing with various different circumstances and that mere fact could bring tears to her eyes if she thought about how far you had come, but moments like these were a snap back to the reality you still lived.

You lived so beautifully, you were so strong now, that your struggles were hardly visible anymore. Yet, when one knows a person for so long, they come to learn the signs. Ingrid knew you like the back of her hand. It still amazed her how quick you put the mask back up, normally being so care-free and light around her. But here, outside of the room everyone was due to meet in for the morning, a feigned smile on your face and a falsity to your posture signified all that Ingrid needed to know.

Even despite your dawdling in the car park, you and Ingrid were some of the first to arrive at the meeting, only a handful of unfamiliar faces scattered around the room. Jonatan looked up at the door upon your arrival and his face lit up, immediately dropping what he was doing to come and greet you with a beaming smile. He offers a gentle handshake, also being sure to speak in clear English so that your mind wasn’t overloaded more than it already was. All of it was reassuring, especially as he kept you off to the side as the room slowly began to fill up, before guiding you to the last chair on the front row beside Ingrid so that the meeting could start. Thankfully, to your relief, he gave you a short introduction to the rest of the squad, you only briefly turning and giving the room a general wave before allowing Jonatan to move onto more pressing matters.

From then on, you were rushed off your feet with introductions and training, all of which weren’t half as bad as you’d expected. During the short walk from the meeting to the changing room, a few others came along to properly greet you, all whilst Ingrid stayed close to your side. Mapi had also come bounding along after you the second you left the first room, Ingrid wincing at the excitement her girlfriend met you with but instantly that worry was erased as soon as you turned to Mapi with a matching overjoyed smile. 

By the time you actually got onto the pitch, you had spoken to almost all of the team already. And like Ingrid said, they were just as amazing as you had hoped they would be. Every single one, in their own ways, welcomed you to the team and made small talk with you for a few moments before letting whoever next came by to have their own chance at greeting you. But, it wasn’t until you were about to join in with the warm-up that the person you’d been most nervous about meeting came along.

Your new captain, Alexia. The powerhouse of the Barcelona team, the one you had to leave the best impression on.

A few days prior, amidst a conversation in the corner of Ingrid’s favourite cafe, you had sheepishly demanded that she give you a run-down of each and every single member of the team. There had been Ona, who Ingrid described as a lightning fast defender whose jestful clapbacks were even quicker than her sprint bursts on the pitch. Then Cata, the new number one goalkeeper whose cheek was sometimes too much for even the younger members of the team. Jana, a surefire future talent who was often found beside her quieter, more reserved but equally talented counterpart, Bruna. Patri and Pina were much the same, as were Vicky and Salma. Ingrid gave you a short but detailed profile of all of them, leaving the most important for last. Alexia, who initially came across as slightly cold due to the stoic, focused expression she usually wore. But, to her teammates and those closest to her, she was a world class leader, an even better player, and most importantly, a defiantly caring person with a personality that had more sides than a kaleidoscope. 

Upon hearing the exit door slamming shut, you turned your attention to the direction of the sound, only to be met with her. Casually strolling over, squinting in the face of the sun, she came over to you with a… a smile on her face?

“Hola! You must be the novota, nice to meet you.” She beamed, inviting you into a quick, polite hug before standing back. “Happy to be here?”

As always with new people, especially someone like the woman before you, you floundered internally for a moment, so many replies flitting around your mind with so little time to react.

“Y-yeah! Really happy to be here, thank you, Alexia.” You landed on, and judging by her reaction, it was the right thing to say. 

“Good, I am glad to hear that. Sorry I was not here for the meeting, you’ve met everybody already, sí?”

“Yes, Jonatan introduced me in the briefing.” 

“Good. Bueno, let’s get started. I am excited to be working with you.” The Spaniard smiled brightly once more, before gesturing loosely for the pair of you to join the rest of the group.

The rest of the day, as they say, is history.

It honestly went by in a blur, and if Ingrid was at all surprised by the way you literally fell into your bed when you arrived home, not surfacing from the newfound safe haven until about an hour later, she didn’t show it. This was Ingrid after all, and every quirk of yours, new or old, still brought a smile to her face. Ten years later and she couldn’t help but love you more each time she saw you.

—

The first week goes a lot smoother than you could have dreamed of to be honest - it’s only the start of preseason after all. But, there is still plenty of time for cracks to show. It only takes two days for all your progress to tear at the seams.

On the first day of your second week, you’re walking into training on your own for the first time since you joined. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Wrong! Big fucking deal actually, because now it’s like walking blind, heading straight for what feels like danger. Unguided, no one by your side, only joined by the weight of an elephant seated right on your heart.

With the help of Ingrid of course, who else, you had established somewhat of a routine that made the transition so much easier. But it wasn’t quite clear until now, just how much easier it had made showing up to training everyday. Because, without your Norwegian counterpart who would be absent from training, you were left to show up all alone, and suddenly everything became ten times harder. 

Ingrid was more than just your friend, she was the one constant in this new life you lived that was always present. Anything you needed, one glance from you in her direction and she’d be with you in an instant. She, as stupid as it may seem, was the foundation of your routine, and now that she wasn’t here, all the hard work you’d made to settle in seemed to crumble under your feet. 

Three weeks of living in Barcelona, one week of training successfully completed, just for you to end up back at square one. And that meant you were trapped in your own body, limbs acting entirely on autopilot as your legs carried you over to those stupid doors that once again stood intimidatingly in front of you. Just like last week, except this time there was no one to coax you out of your shell, no one to mindlessly guide you over to one of the tables in the canteen, no one to walk you out onto the training pitch. You were all alone.

An unfortunate tactic hadn’t left your habits after all these years: avoidance. What better way to deal with something, then to not deal with it all, right? Right? 

Obviously, you couldn’t miss the whole day, you still had commitments and expectations you needed to live up to. If there was one thing that you couldn’t handle (apart from almost everything in this neurotypical world) it was letting people down, disappointing them.

So, if you opted out of breakfast for the day and beelined straight for the changing rooms instead, what business was it to anyone else? You were here, that’s all they could ask for. The plan was to get dressed into your training kit as fast as physically possible, before heading out onto the pitch for some time alone before everyone else came along. 

…Except, just as you were lacing up your boots, hand trembling at an embarrassing intensity as you did so, the door opened prematurely. And, really, out of everyone, did it have to be her?

“Oh. I did not expect anyone to be in here. Bon dia.” Alexia smiled at you, heading to her cubby just a few seats away from yours.

“Bon dia.” You muttered sheepishly, keeping your head down and tying your laces at a wildly uncontrolled speed. If Alexia noticed, she didn’t mention it. Thank god.

“I was just going to get some extra practice in, if you wanted to join me.” She offered, swapping her trainers for her boots since she was already in her training gear.

Great minds think alike..?

“Yeah, I was going to do the same thing. Thanks.”

“Ay, it's nothing. It's great that you're so hard working, you’re already fitting right in.” Sorry, could you say that again, or write it down even? “Ready?”

“What? Oh- sorry, yes, I’m ready.” You gave her a tight-lipped smile before slipping past where she stood in the doorway and heading towards the pitch.

“How are you feeling about your time here so far?” The captain asked kindly, the beating sound of boots clicking against the floor echoing far too long in your ears.

“Um, good. It’s an honour playing for this team, so.” You shrugged, offering an almost robotic, rehearsed answer.

“And what about how you actually feel? Not what you’re supposed to feel?” Alexia inquired lightly, an earnest and sympathetic look across her face. Slightly suspicious.

“Well… still good. It’s just different, isn’t it. Yeah.” You mumbled, cheeks flushing bright red as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest.

“Of course it is different. You were in Germany for five years, right?” You nodded affirmatively. “So it is a big, big change. I haven’t been anywhere else but here for twelve years, I cannot imagine adjusting to anywhere else.”

Oh, Ingrid. Seriously?

“I’m here though, I have to leave Germany behind.” You stated in a flat voice, honestly quite done with this topic but it’d be rude to voice so.

“If that is how you want to think, then do it like that. You have transitioned very well, we are all impressed.” Alexia shrugged with a soft smile, punching in the code for the storage cupboard and opening it soon after. “Grab the footballs, I will get some tiny goals. The others can get the rest when they’re done filling their faces.”

Thank god for that.

Alexia ended that conversation there, directing her focus on training from that moment on, much to your relief. All that you learnt from this day was that you needed to have a conversation with Ingrid. Your sixth sense was strong, even if to others it seemed like Alexia was just being an averagely kind person, you just knew. 

The good thing was, you couldn’t quite call that day a disaster. In the end, you got through it, even squeezing in a few jokes and laughs here and there throughout the day.

It’s the next day that the first incident occurred. It happened like this; Ingrid isn’t in again, you learn she’s got some kind of stomach virus, so you turn up once more on your own. This time, it wasn’t quite so scary, but like yesterday you skipped breakfast again. And just like yesterday, Alexia met you in the changing rooms to do some early practice again. Except, there was one fatal flaw to your routine this day. It came back and bit you in the ass pretty harshly.

“Ale, what are you doing after this?” Mapi wondered from your right as she stood up after Jona had ended training for the day.

“Eh, nothing.” She shrugged, going to ask you the same thing as she reached her hands out to help you up.

For all you knew, the Spanish pair you were sandwiched between could be speaking absolute gibberish, nothing was registering. As soon as you stood up, everything went hazy. And then… your vision had gone, your body felt unbelievably heavy, and had it not been for Alexia’s tight grip, you’d have fallen back there and then.

“Hey!” Alexia called out in concern, feeling you go limp in her hold. “Mapi, she’s fainting!”

“What!?” Mapi cried, immediately falling to her knees as Alexia safely guided you to the floor.

“I don’t know, she just collapsed!” 

Her voice dripped with worry as Mapi frantically looked around, only to find most people had headed inside already. Meanwhile, you were still awake, not totally out cold, but your eyes ached unbearably and you’d lost all control of your movements. Alexia’s hands flitted over your body, looking for any obvious problems but she couldn’t find any. She repeated your name over and over, only receiving somewhat of a whimper in reply.

“Mapi, go find someone, now!” Alexia demanded, the defender instantly rising to her feet and heading for the door. The captain turned back to you, her hands gently coming up to cradle your face where you lay on your side. “Hey, I need you to listen! Can you hear me?”

“Mhm.” You whined, providing the woman before you with an ounce of relief.

“What’s wrong? You need to tell me so we can help you, cariño, you just fainted on us.” She said frantically, her wide eyes boring into yours when you opened them.

Identifying the problem, even in your state, was quite simple. It was a common problem, something you were well versed with, though you rarely ever let it get this bad.

“Forgot to eat.” You mustered up your remaining strength, which really was very little, to answer her and quell her worries.

Thinking back to this moment in probably an hour’s time, you’d laugh at Alexia’s face when you said those three words, because she looked utterly perplexed.

“You forgot to eat?” Alexia repeated with a frown, but she couldn’t dwell on it much longer because Mapi came running over with the medical team hot on her tails.

“Is she awake?” The brunette woman asked desperately, opting out of kneeling back beside you so as to not overcrowd you.

“Yes, and she said she forgot to eat today?” Alexia looked up at her friend, refusing to shift out of the way and instead choosing to stick by your side. 

“Oh, that would explain it.” Mapi sighed in relief, only puzzling Alexia more. Was this… normal for you?

The medics fussed over you, asking you questions and ultimately overwhelming you way too much, something Mapi notices quickly.

“Oye, basta, slow down. Her blood sugar is low, she needs something quickly. Get her an energy gel.” Mapi commanded them, now joining you by your head and smiling her bright smile down at you, combing back some of your hair. “Hola preciosa, we'll get you back feeling better soon.” Just as she said that, a member of the medical staff pulled out one of the energy gels the team used for games. “Can you have this for me? It will make you feel better, I promise.”

With a nod, the people around you helped you to sit up as Mapi tore  open the gel packet, with Alexia still almost frozen in confusion. The defender noticed, grinning in amusement and quickly flicking her ear to bring her back down to earth.

“Ah! What's that for?” Alexia winced, watching on as Mapi shook her head and handed you the gel pack.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to your mouth, hardly possessing the strength to squeeze it enough to get anything out of it, but just as Mapi went to help you, Alexia got there first.

“It’s okay, here.” She does it for you, one hand on the packet and the other on your elbow that shakes under her hold. She seemed to be grounded now, knowing that it isn't the right moment to be wrapped up in her own thoughts when you're here in front of her, needing security and comfort whilst it takes a couple minutes to come back to yourself. “Easy with it. You'll feel better soon.”

And you did, literally no less than two minutes after having the energy gel, your nausea and dizziness and whatnot near enough disappeared. Though, your physical symptoms gave way for a barrage of anxiety, because this situation would consequently lead to an unwanted and challenging (but most likely necessary) conversation with Jonatan and the rest of the staff. They had also seen you, on the floor, near enough passed out, as a result of your own actions. You could only imagine the things they were thinking right now, and that unknown was scarier than the actual situation that had occurred beforehand.

“Feeling good now. Thanks everyone.” You said shyly, rising to your feet and avoiding everyone's gaze.

“You sure?” Alexia checked, giving you a look that tells you that you shouldn't even try to bullshit her.

“Well, a little bit… woozy, I guess. But much better than before, I swear.” You nodded, hating the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. 

“Let’s go inside, I’ll ask the catering staff to make up some food for you, if you want?” Mapi offered as her hand hovers against your back, not touching but guiding you back inside the main building.

“Okay.” You shrugged.

Meanwhile Alexia trailed behind, trying to figure out how, as captain, she could help this situation. It’s in her best interest to care for her team, and given what she had learnt, it was now clear that there was a lot more she could do than sit back and watch. She didn’t want to come across as overbearing, something Ingrid had warned her about, but she realised it was time to step in.

“Why don’t we go to one of the office rooms rather than the canteen?” She suggested just as Mapi went to open the door heading into said room. The defender should have thought of that sooner, but she’s glad her friend mentioned it, realising it’s most definitely the better option right now for you. 

You were taken to an empty office, followed into the room by Alexia and Mapi and some of the physios, and if they weren’t overcrowding you outside, they definitely were now. In all honesty, as much as you were grateful for their care, you wanted to burrow under your duvet in bed at home and not surface for probably about a week. You wanted to grab a tray of cookies, eat them whilst seated on the edge of your bed so you didn’t get crumbs everywhere, and crawl under the sheets safe in the darkness of the four walls you had struggled to leave the past two days.

But no, you were here, stuck in a reality that in no way felt real at all. What were you doing here? Sat at a round table, surrounded by medical staff chatting between themselves, not really bothered about your blip anymore, whilst two of Spain’s greatest players stand off to the side, both pairs of eyes trained solely on you.

You, a no-name off the back of an unsuccessful run in Germany that had just collapsed after training. Them, Champion’s League winners and well-established in the sport for years already, and decades to come.

“Preciosa?” Mapi appeared beside you suddenly, speaking softly as her hand fell on your shoulder. “Is it okay if I leave now? Ingrid is still sick at home, I promised I would get back to her as fast as I could. If you need me to stay, I can. They won’t keep you here for much longer, they’re just making sure you eat before you get back home.”

She should be with Ingrid, her girlfriend who is much worse off at home. Not with you, who simply made a foolish mistake and was now wasting everyone’s time.

“Go home.” You told her as your own hands squeezed anxiously at your upper arms where they sat crossed on the table.

“Okay.” Mapi smiled pitifully down at you, giving you a light forehead kiss before backing off. She pulled Alexia to the side, giving her a warning glare. “Look after her, for me and for Ingrid. Protect her, too. Don’t let them overwhelm her, she just wants to get home.”

“Sí. Of course.” Alexia replied firmly, a solid look in her eyes that Mapi knew to trust immediately. 

The defender slipped out of the room with no further fuss, leaving you alone with Alexia and the medical staff. Not for long, though.

“Guys, could you give us a moment? And can someone go collect her food from the canteen, please.” 

They nodded and stepped out of the room, Alexia closing the door softly behind them. She turned back to you, watching as you kept your head down and focused on the shapes you traced on the wood of the table. Your shoulders were visibly tense, so uptight they’re basically touching your ears, and she noticed just how intensely your leg was bouncing up and down.

“Do you need anyth-”

“Did Ingrid tell you?” You asked bluntly, gulping back the lump in your throat that really had no place making itself known at this moment - now was not the time for a meltdown. Save it for later, in the safety of your flat.

Alexia blew out a breath, coming over to perch on the edge of the desk a few seats away from you.

“If you’re talking about what I think you are, then… yes. She did tell me.” She answered cautiously, trying to gauge your reaction but you didn’t give her much, just a single nod. “She did it with the best intentions though. It wasn’t to… purposely go behind your back. She just wants the best for you, and the more people that know, the more support you can have here.”

“I guess.” You murmured under your breath, clearing your throat after and moving to rest your chin atop your arms.

“Why… why didn’t you want anybody to know?” The midfielder wondered in a soft tone, trying hard not to scare you off or go over the top. If she wants to help you and understand you, which she desperately does, this is the pathway she has to, albeit reluctantly, go down.

“Wanted people to get to know me, not a label.” You frowned, hastily wiping the tear that slips out with the frustration slowly bubbling inside of you. “Didn’t want to be a problem for anyone. Wanted to fit in.”

Just like that, it all clicked for Alexia.

The feigned smiles, sometimes forced laughter, the troubled look on your face whenever you thought you were alone, all of it adds up. You had repressed parts of you so that things went as smooth sailing as possible, so that people didn’t think any differently of you or immediately feel drawn away like they often did. The biggest part of you, what makes you you, is the one thing you didn’t want people to see, out of nothing but complete and all-consuming fear. And Alexia would be damned if she let you go on like this.

“Can I take a seat next to you?” She said quietly, a hint of a smile on her face when you nodded again. She did exactly that; without making too much noise in the still room, she pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, her eyes raking up and down your face.

“If I told you that I don’t think any differently of you at all, would you believe me?” She began with. 

You just shrugged dismissively, not having moved a single muscle in the past few minutes apart from breathing and blinking. If you don’t move, if you don’t draw attention to yourself, perhaps this whole thing will disappear. A girl can dream.

“Because I don’t, cariño. I really don’t. You are not a problem for any of us at all. You face different struggles than us, but nobody thinks of you as anything less than a great player and an even better person. We are all glad you are here. I and others on the team will face different struggles than you, and I can bet you would never think any differently of us. Am I right?” 

Her words break through the defensive wall you’d put up to protect yourself from anything else around you. A common feature of the start of your meltdowns, except it’s quite possible that your captain had just stopped it from going any further.

Hesitantly, you sat up from your slouched position and wiped tiredly at your face.

“No, I would never.” You told her, slumping back against your chair and fiddling with the drawstring on your shorts.

“Exactly. You don’t need to worry about any of that at all, I promise. You are one of us now. A culer. We will take care of you.” She smiled brightly, you can hear it in her voice. So for the first time since you’d entered the room, you turned to look at her, only to find her eyes were filled with earnesty and kindness. And… perhaps for the first time since you’d arrived in Barcelona, you truly did feel like you belong here. Like you could make a life for yourself here, against all odds.

“Thanks.” You sniffled, feeling the remnants of your outburst fade away, only to leave overwhelming exhaustion in its wake.

“It’s okay. You can come to me anytime for anything. There will always be someone here for you to talk to, and I’ll be the first to fight for you if that’s ever necessary.” Now, you were actually smiling. A genuine one, too.

“I think Ingrid might beat you to it, actually.” You teased her, watching as she grins.

“You’re probably right.” She chuckled, before pausing. You already knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth. Neurotypicals are just way too predictable. “How did you know Ingrid told me?”

“You can just tell when someone knows. They treat you differently.” Alexia frowned anxiously at that.

“I didn’t… did I treat you differently?” She questioned, along with a poor attempt at disguising the undertones of fear in her voice.

“You haven’t, not really, but… I don’t know, I can just tell instantly. It’s hard to explain. You haven’t treated me differently, but I could tell you knew compared to when you didn’t know. The look on your face too. But thank you for… just everything so far. You have helped a lot, so.” You shrugged. She smiled, a little in relief, but nodded nevertheless.

“You don’t need to thank me. Now, can I ask some more about what happened today? You said you forgot to eat?” 

“Yeah. It’s just because my routine was messed up, that’s all. Yesterday morning I ate before training because Ingrid had baked me some pastries, but today I had none left and then genuinely forgot. It happens sometimes, it’s just part of it.”

“Part of what?”

“Autism.” Duh.

“Oh. I did not know that.” Alexia stated simply. 

“Yeah, well, most people don’t.” You told her. Alexia nodded understandingly, a plan of action already formed in her mind.

“I’m sure you already know this, as an athlete, but it’s important for your safety that this doesn’t happen again. So I have a solution in mind that could help.” You hummed to tell her to continue. “I can ask either the catering staff here, or find a private chef, to start meal prepping for you. We can organise it on the club’s behalf so that you don’t have to pay anything. I will go with you, or for you if you’d like, to Jonatan and help sort it out for you. You can meet with a nutritionist to figure out what food you need and tell them what you do and don’t like, we can sort it all out for you. It wouldn’t be a problem.” 

Oh. You’d never thought about that before. 

“I guess that could work.” You decided after a few moments of consideration. 

That would actually be a really helpful solution. Certainly one less thing to worry about, and it could add a secure layer to your routine. An important one too.

“Would you be okay with that?” Alexia wondered, smiling when you nodded. “Good. Leave it to me, I will get it sorted for you.” 

She paused again, clearly hesitant about something. You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to coax it out of her with a look, but you couldn’t help the amused smile on your face at the sudden, faint blush that landed on her cheeks.

“What is it?” 

“Uh… there is no way to ask this without coming across as… very forward, to say the least.” She started, shaking her head at her own ridiculousness. “May I get your number? For captain’s reasons, of course.”

“Right.” You smirked, watching as she shakes her head, this time at your teasing, and grabs a pen from the stationary pot in the centre of the table. “And what shall I write it on?”

“Well… just use my hand, I guess.” She suggested, offering the back of her hand out for you. You grinned and gently took hold of it, jotting down your number for her. 

“There you go, Capi.” You smiled, clicking the pen and putting it back.

Not long after that, one of the staff members came in with the food Alexia and Mapi had organised for you. So, leaving your captain with a promise that you'll eat it the second you walked through your apartment door, you went home. It was a great meal, and if it'd be the catering staff at Barcelona that would do your meal prep, well, it'd be a great deal.

That night went just like the others; you relaxed for some time to decompress after training, until you eventually started feeling somewhat human again, and arose from bed to do one of any of your hobbies that you felt like doing that night. Reading, watching movies, drawing and painting, listening to music, or any others that pique your interest that night. 

On some occasions, you'll be so mentally exhausted from your day that none of them seem at all appealing, and it takes a lengthy period of time to feel yourself again. An hour, the rest of the evening, or sometimes even the whole week. After especially hard times, it could take weeks. Fortunately you hadn't been through such events in years, but the fear of falling into that hole ever again was always present in the back of your mind.

The thing about having this disorder is that some things never change. Most things never change. You learn to cope, you can heal from past experiences, but in the grand scheme of it all, things never change. Certain events, people, even words can still be triggers. No amount of therapy or coping mechanisms or whatever, can help. You were born this way, and you would die this way. 

You would live a life and still struggle with even the most mundane things. Washing dishes was a no-go, the sensory issues were way too intense for that one. A day without showering first thing in the morning was automatically a write off. Bad performances in matches could still lead to a meltdown on certain days. One wrong look from someone can send you spiralling.

Autism was a blessing and a curse. It made you who you are; you have no idea who you would be without it. Yet, at the same time, it could debilitate you to such extreme degrees that… at night, when you were alone under the disguise of darkness,  you can't help but wonder what you could have done with your life had you not been born with this burden.

And with the day you'd had already, well, the only way you'd learnt to get over these things were to move on from them. That's what you had to do. If you become too concentrated on them, analysed every detail that went wrong, thought about every opinion those who witnessed it could hold, you'd suffer for it more than you needed to.

You couldn't move on if others couldn't move on though.

Unknown: Did you get home safe?

There was most likely only one person it could be, but where's the fun in that?

You: Depends who I'm talking to…

Alexia: It's Alexia??

Too easy.

You: I knew it was you, dumbass. Yes I got home safe, thank you. Food was great too :)

Although, when a few minutes went by after that last text, the doubts came flooding in. Did you take it too far with her? It was a bit ballsy to say that, she's just checking in on you. Captain duties.

Then again, who was it calling you?

“Hello?” You frowned, and this was another instance where you're cursing yourself, because why was your heart racing and cheeks burning at one random phone call?

“Dumbass, huh?” Came a smug voice, and then your heart was racing for another, more light-hearted reason.

“Yeah, sorry about that… apparently I'm a bit of a keyboard warrior.” You blushed sheepishly, relieved beyond belief when the woman down the line laughed.

“Don't worry about it. You're feeling okay now, sí?” 

“Yes, fine. You know, I didn't plan for today to happen. It just did.” You mumbled, still embarrassed by it all.

“I know, no one blames you for it. I just wanted to check in with you.” 

“I'm good, thanks. I've only ever had that happen like once before, I guess training on an empty stomach isn't the greatest idea in the world.” You joked lightly, Alexia humming in agreement.

“How does it happen? You said your routine was messed up, how did that lead to you forgetting?”

“It's a long story.” You sighed, but Alexia doesn't care.

“I have a free evening.” She said simply. This woman.

“Well… every training session so far, Ingrid has met me in the morning at my apartment beforehand so we can travel in together. She normally checks in with me, asks how I'm feeling and if I've eaten and whatnot. But she was ill, which I obviously don't blame her for, by the way. So not having her with me these past two days has terrified me quite a bit. She's basically the thing that holds my whole morning routine together. I guess, because she wasn't there, everything just flew out the window.” You explained, but things still weren't quite adding up in Alexia’s mind.

“So how does that relate to you forgetting to eat? Do you not get hungry?”

“Not like normal people do. One of the things with autism is that… we're not really in tune with our bodies? Like, I don't often get hungry or thirsty, I have to force myself to remember to eat and drink. And when I don't, I only realise I haven't done either of the two when I start feeling ill, like today. But food and drink feel like a chore, which is another reason I forget too. It's different when it comes to football though, being an athlete has taught me to be in tune with my body in terms of injuries, but not for anything else. It's weird.” 

“Wow, I never knew that before. That's interesting.” She commented. She's got a lot to learn.

“I prefer… inconvenient.” You said with a shy smile, glad to hear Alexia chuckle at that.

Unexpectedly, for quite some time after that, the pair of you just… talked. A lot. Like, for an hour. About everything - from what pastries Ingrid baked you, to a few more facts about yourself and your ASD, and everything in between. 

It's unnervingly natural. Fun too, but also a little odd. Is she doing it out of pity, or..?

“I almost forgot the other reason I called you.” She said out of nowhere, the smile on her face audible once again. “We have our pre-season dinner this Friday, the whole team is going. You should come.”

A dinner? At a restaurant? Oh god.

“Oh, I… it sounds good, but I don’t know, I-”

“Hey, why not?” She questioned gently.

“Just, they’re not really my scene.”

In a split second, Alexia attempted to think back on all she knew about anxiety to combine it with the very little information she knew about autism, hoping the two overlapped somewhat. Luckily for her, they do.

“The club rents out the restaurant so it’ll just be the team and a few senior staff members. It shouldn’t be too loud. It’s more like a celebratory dinner before the season starts, so there's no partying or anything like that at all. I really hope you come, but I understand if not. There’s no pressure.”

Damn you, Alexia.

“Okay. Okay, I'll go.”

—

Normal order resumed for the rest of the week; Ingrid recovered from her short 48-hour bug and returned to training like she hadn't even had a day off. Her being back also meant your mind was a hell of a lot more at ease, even if Alexia had offered to see you every morning. 

There was one other thing you were blessed with: obliviousness. Because, during the car ride to training the day after your phone call with the captain, the smirk that Mapi greeted you with in the rearview mirror after you tell her what happened once she headed home, is definitely not confusing at all. Definitely not.

That smirk made a comeback far sooner than you'd like. 

“Say that again?” Mapi asked with a squint to her eyes, forcing down the laughter she so desperately wants to let out.

“Alexia is driving me to the team dinner.” You repeated the sentence you'd just said for her, looking to Ingrid for help. “Ingrid, tell her to behave please.”

“María, come on. Alexia is just doing her a favour, you know she's not a fan of driving.” Ingrid said whilst nudging her girlfriend, though secretly she's hiding some intense excitement levels under her very good poker-face.

“Exactly! Screw you, Mapi.” You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you put your earrings in.

“So you're sure you don't need us to drive you there?” Mapi asked suspiciously, and there was that stupid smirk again. 

“Ugh, yes! I am making friends, you should be happy!” You groaned, fixing the shorter defender with a dagger-like glare in the reflection.

“More than fr-”

“Okay! Are you ready, snuppa? When is Alexia coming?” Ingrid interjected, discreetly stomping on her girlfriend's foot.

“She's on her way, she'll be here any minute now.” You answered after checking your phone. “You know, I can't rely on you guys forever like you're my parents or something. I love you, but I don't love you that much. And I'm sure you feel the same.”

“No!” Ingrid cried out in a way that's entirely too theatrical. She came over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I do love you that much, it's María you need to worry about.”

“I do worry about her sometimes. You should too, Ingrid.” You murmured, Ingrid humming in agreement as you watched her Spanish counterpart… busy herself in your fridge?

“María, out of there! We are literally going for dinner right now!”

“Ingrid, princesa, you need to work on your English- we're not at dinner ‘right now’, that is why I am in the fridge.” 

“Guys! Alexia is here, let's go. I'll see you at the restaurant.” You kissed Ingrid’s cheek and flicked Mapi’s forehead as you ushered them out the door, locking it behind you and making your way down to the ground floor.

Alexia was there, waiting for you whilst leaning against her car, and a smile tugged at her lips the second she saw you. You heard some commotion behind you, most likely Mapi being scolded by Ingrid, but you shut it out as you headed over to the midfielder, fighting back a ridiculously cheesy grin.

She greeted you the same way she did on the first day she met you - enveloping you in a warm hug that really shouldn’t be as comforting as it was. Not a big deal. Regardless, you both clambered into the car and made your way to the restaurant.

Thankfully, the evening went surprisingly well. It was a very low-key evening, just like Alexia said. In fact, you might even go as far as to say you enjoyed it, that’s a welcome revelation. And it seems you weren’t the only one that had discovered something new.

“Can I ask you something?” Alexia said on the drive back to your apartment.

“Sounds like there’s no stopping you.” You replied, smiling when she teasingly rolled her eyes.

“At dinner, when Patri asked why you don’t drink, you said ‘long story short, I don’t like it’ so I was just wondering what you meant by that?” Alexia asked, before almost immediately regretting it. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, it’s your business, but… if there’s anything we should be mindful about, then let me know.”

Who needed alcohol when you had a tendency to lose your inhibitions whenever you got too exhausted?

“No, not really any problems. I don’t have any issues with people drinking around me, I just have a bit of a history with it but it’s nothing big. It’s fine.” You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes open as the streets of Barcelona passed by your window. 

“What… what happened?” Alexia pressed gently.

“Well, when I was about seventeen, I started going through a really hard time. I had just dropped out of school, I’d had some trouble with friends, I was basically struggling quite badly. I started partying and drinking a lot, way more than I should have. Then I began to rely on it too much, just to get me through really basic stuff. It made me feel normal, it got rid of the voice in my head and it made me feel like a functioning person of society because it was what everybody else did. One day I decided it was best that I don’t drink at all, and it’s easier to tell people I don’t like it but actually I’m just scared of drinking because of all it reminds me of. So, I avoid it.” You explained, rather nonchalantly. 

The mental exhaustion was hitting hard that night, it was evident in the way you spoke. There was one explanation; dissociation. Dinners were not your favourite things in the world, they were a challenge to get through even when you were in the best company. Small talk, food, the sound of people eating, the scrapes of cutlery against ceramic, and the attention on some occasions being entirely on you? Yeah, a big no go. Which is why you were so tired, so distant, because your mind was in protection mode to keep you running until you got home.

Talking about your past was difficult, you’d come a long way and it felt counter-intuitive to talk about the bad times when you’d worked so hard to come to a good place. Yet, here you were, baring your soul about a topic you normally kept to yourself. You don’t even feel at least a little bit anxious at the fact you’d just spilled that secret. Alexia takes all the concern you normally feel and keeps it for herself.

“I’m sorry you went through that, cariño. Thank you for telling me.” She smiled sadly over at you, an ache growing in her heart at your defeated demeanour where you sit in her passenger seat. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“Tired. So tired.” You sighed. Even just talking felt like a chore in that moment. “Wanna get home, s’all.”

“Okay, we’re almost there now.” She said, “I’m proud of you for coming today. I know you weren’t a fan of the idea initially but you came, and everybody was so glad that you did. I am really proud of you, and so are Ingrid and Mapi too.”

The woman to your left surprised you everyday with each act of kindness she was showing. She hardly knew you, she hardly knew of your struggles, but she was adamant to learn and show just how deeply she cared. You were beyond grateful for her and all she’d said and done, even if you couldn’t verbalise that just yet.

All you could do was offer a simple nod, almost entirely mute as a result of how utterly overstimulating the day had been. You had loved it, sure, but sometimes when days like today left you in such a dejected state that you could hardly talk, there were still times if you wondered if fighting for a somewhat normal life was worth it. 

From then on, the rest of the drive home was silent. Alexia dropped you off, made sure you knew to contact her or Ingrid or whoever you felt comfortable speaking to should you need them, and that was that. You got inside, were barely able to get yourself changed, before passing out as soon as you got into bed.

—

A few weeks went by and it was more of the same. After that dinner, the team really clamped down and focused on getting everybody ready for the start of the new season. Training at Barcelona was different to anything you’d ever experienced before; it was intense, but light-hearted. There was competition, but it was healthy, everybody egged each other on even if they wanted to win. Ingrid was right, you had never found training this enjoyable before. You had to put that down to the people though, if it wasn’t for them then you’d never feel as comfortable as you do now. 

There were blips, there were still obstacles, but apart from that time you fell ill after training , there hadn’t really been any meltdown-inducing moments. Just a lot of burn-out and exhaustion, but you were near enough a pro at dealing with that now. 

The environment was… perfect for you. And one factor of that outcome is definitely down to the help of the famous three you had near enough attached yourself to since your arrival.

But the main factor to how well you had settled in was down to you. At some point along the way, not that the exact date mattered or anything (at exactly 12:02 on Monday the 26th of August), you hit a milestone that you had never managed to reach before. 

It was unplanned, but once the initial shock had worn off and the anxiety left, you teared up in the arms of Ingrid at the pride you felt towards yourself. Then Mapi joined in with the hug, and so did Alexia, then… so did the whole team too. 

For the first time, you were honest with your team. For the first time, you told them that you had autism. And for the first time, you weren’t suffocated by that prospect. When they all came together to hug you, it wasn’t just a physical embrace, it was them fully accepting you even with this burden you held and championed every day of your life. Though, with the support of others, it was hard to think of it as a burden. The gravity of a secret this big had weighed you down for years, but… now, your chest had never felt so light.

They supported you when you arrived, but the extremes this Spanish team took didn’t quite register until the week before the first game of the Liga F season. Fortunately for you, the first game of the season was at your new home of football, the Estadi Johan Cruyff. So, to help settle the rising nerves you were feeling as game day got closer, the club had organised a training session for you at the stadium a few days before. The more familiar you were with your surroundings, the less you had to worry about on the day. And, as everybody knew, the only thing you needed to worry about for your debut would be how well you did on the pitch.

What you didn’t know though, was that every member of your team was waiting in the stands for you to walk out. And the second the sound of boots hitting the floor echoed from the tunnel through the empty stadium, Mapi was up on her feet to cheer and encouraged her teammates to do the same. The only person that hesitated was Ingrid, but when she saw the look on your face as your te- your friends outwardly rallied behind you so openly and so freely, she became the loudest one of them all. That was the perfect way to prepare for game day, you really couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with everyday.

Were you jittery and wracked with nerves as you waited on the sidelines to be substituted in at the 70 minute mark? Yes, but the second you took your first step on the grass with the crowd’s applause as your welcome, you fixated on the game and everything else was just background noise. 

From a young age, before you had even heard of the word autism, football had very obviously been your special interest, otherwise known as the one random topic out of everything in the world to take over your life. 

You would spend hours in your backyard, kicking a ball against the side of your house, driving your family crazy. The walls of your bedroom were covered, corner to corner, in posters ranging from your favourite players, to clubs from all over the world. Christmases and birthdays as a kid were, to you, all about what from your presents you could add to your collection. Kits, boots, scarves, match-day programmes, magazines, even trading cards. Back at your childhood home in Norway, all these things were stored away in the attic, still items you cherished. 

As you got older and life got a bit more difficult, football became your escape. School was exhausting, people were exhausting, but football was something you could do on your own. No one bothering you, no one expecting anything from you, it was a time you could forget the world and all its misdemeanours, and just relax. And honestly, that’s all you planned for it to be. It was hard to imagine it being anything else than just a hobby.

All it took was one game to change the whole trajectory of your life. A game of girls against boys at your school at the age of only eleven, and the next day your sports teacher had gotten you a trial at the local academy. You passed it with flying colours, and flourished in the sport from there.

…Until one random day when you were fourteen, your mother sat you down for a conversation you never could have expected. But once you'd had time to dwell on her words, everything made sense. 

You had autism spectrum disorder. 

It wasn’t made official until the assessment process was over and you received your diagnosis, but that was the day it felt like your life had been irreversibly changed. Your view of the world changed with one conversation, and it was as if everything you thought you knew was wiped completely. Like you had been thrown into the ocean with no one and nothing around to help. 

All the tantrums, the bad behaviour at home compared to being a model student at school, the fussy eating habits, and the endless list of out-of-the-norm habits you had - it added up to this one, new label. The tantrums became meltdowns, the reasoning behind your behavioural differences were from spending the whole day surrounded by people and masking to fit in which led to you being so overwhelmed and overstimulated, your mind went into overdrive and didn’t know what to do. The fussy eating turned out to be sensory issues, with the textures and tastes of certain foods making you physically ill.

There was so much to learn that some days it felt like too big a challenge to tackle. Then there would be the days where you were up all night, the light of your family laptop kept hidden under the blanket you draped over yourself, as you researched this life-changing disorder until the sun rose.

It’s funny, really, how quickly your life can change with just three words.

For years, you had been defeated by it, succumbing to the assumptions that you could never amount to anything more than the label forced upon you, but look at you now. Providing a world class through ball to the most recent Ballon D’Or recipient to tie off a 3-0 win in the first game of the season.

You had learnt at some point in the last twelve years that the only choice you had was to live with it. Make the most of it. This was your one life, you had to make it work. You were adamant to thrive for the others that couldn’t, for the 1 in 13 women that didn’t believe they were strong enough to fight back, and to prove to the world that this disorder didn't hold you back.

They wouldn’t know that your mind could be your own worst enemy, or the self-deprecating thoughts you could have whilst your face gave away no hints, or that sometimes you didn’t believe in yourself and the anxiety was so intense that you could be stuck in bed for days, even weeks, at a time. All they saw right now was your team, FC Barcelona, rushing over to celebrate you rather than the goal scorer because they knew what it meant to you. The world would only ever see your victories, because they had no business to strike you when you were already down. You were strong, you were worth it, and most importantly, you had done it. You’d made it to the exact point you dreamed of. That’s all that mattered.

Unfortunately, it only takes one bad thing to set you down an unwanted path.

Part 2

[sorrysomethingwentwrong]

 Matthew Mazzotta Art,

Known for stalking front lawns in plastic form as much as they wade through the shallows of Everglades National Park, Biscayne Bay, or the Keys, pink flamingos are practically synonymous with Florida. Around the turn of the 20th century, however, native populations were decimated due to overhunting. Although residents later began to foster captive colonies, of the estimated 260,000 to 330,000 mature birds worldwide, Florida is thought to accommodate only about one percent of them.

For the artist, the iconic avian and the importance of sharing space with wildlife inspired a monumental, immersive installation at Tampa International Airport.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

listen. you know what's about to happen here. i'm thinking about giving joel road head. broad day light.

you've been away on a trip, tided over by calling him every night, shooting him a text when you have a moment to spare. sending him pictures of you knelt in front of the hotel mirror in your nicest lingerie; a shot of the straps slipping down your shoulders, panties pushed to the side. pretty glisten, dark fade of your fingers as you work yourself through an orgasm. mouth dropped in a silent cry, one word frozen on your lips. joel.

and he's so sweet, so kind. talking you through it, filming himself coming. warm drip of his spend over his knuckles, flooding through the dark plaid of his pyjama bottoms. which is why it takes you by surprise how quiet he is when he picks you up at the airport.

sure, he kisses you. sweeps his tongue through your wanton mouth, hands gripping you through your clothes. holds your hand on the walk to the truck, carries your bag. opens the door for you, swings a palm onto the back of your headrest as he reverses out the parking space.

but you know well enough by now what has him so stiff. you can tell by the feather of a muscle in his jaw, the way his hands tighten on the wheel when you stretch and take off your jumper. can tell by the bob of his adam's apple when he swallows roughly at your cooing, the way you lean in closer, the way you trail a hand up his thigh.

your cowboy is a man on a fucking mission. no matter how much you palm him, how much you squirm, running your fingers between your own thighs and his, he will not pull over. hell bent on getting you home so he can fuck you into the mattress, the highway blurring before him as he pictures your ass rippling against his thighs as he takes you from behind. he's barely conscious of your fingers working at his buckle, slowly drawing his belt from its front loops. pop of the button, draw of the zipper. but he's pretty fuckin aware of the wet warmth of your mouth as it closes around the tip of his cock, sinking down, down, as he groans from between his teeth.

this is different to what you've done before. before, you'd be gagging and stroking, on your own mission to make him come as quickly and as loudly as possible. now, you spread your hand across his thigh, grounding. you move your head gently, up and down, eyelashes fanned across your cheeks as you suck and moan and whimper quietly. slowly.

feeling him, tasting him. how thick and heavy he is. velvet and steel, firm and all man. nose pressed against the curls at his base as you inhale deeply, eyes rolling back in your skull at the smell of his musk, the watery salt covering your tongue. he groans louder above you, panting, shifting his hips slightly so the tip of his cock knocks against the back of your throat. you whine, more saliva dripping past your lips, down your chin, pooling on his thighs.

he begs you to move a little, that gravelly twang, a most delicious please, baby, please. you oblige, taking him deep, just a little faster. tongue swirling at the tip, strong flicks against the slit and sensitive skin, before dragging your mouth back down him, throat tight, mind fuzzy.

and oh, he fucking loves it. twitching as he gathers your hair with one hand, twisting it into something of a ponytail. moving your head at the pace he desires as he hisses through his teeth, wanting people to see the strands curled around his fist through the glass, the glossy movement of your mouth, how blissed out, cock drunk you look when you swallow his cum.

when you're satisfied, finished with your suckling and your kisses, still tasting him on your tongue, you back yourself up against the passenger door and spread your legs for him. so obscene, the sight of his softening cock barely tucked into his jeans, his lascivious grin as he catches glimpses of your hand disappearing behind your thighs. the pictures you sent him playing out in real time, you're fucking soaked. glistening - shining in the sunlight. puffy, swollen, you look at him through hooded eyes, pleading for help. he glides a finger through your folds as you circle your clit, clenching already, painting patterns with your wetness, fucking you slowly, not nearly full enough.

your head tipped back against the glass, breath shuddering as you teeter on the edge, grabbing at his strong, tanned forearm. begging him to let you come, begging him to wait until he can fuck you full.

the way he twists that hand in his grip as he kisses your knuckles, chuckling. he doesn't mind making you wait, after all. even when you've been such a good girl.

anyway. i was just thinkin about it.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's terrifying to realize you don't know if Bradley is safe. As the lonely days stretch on and on, you try to savor the notes from him. Once the final two envelopes have been opened, you know you need the real thing.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, romantic as hell Bradley, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Other than your car, everything you owned was inside Bradley's house. Over the last few weeks, Natasha helped you load up his Bronco and make a few trips down, but she looked at you like you were crazy when you told her you were going to leave most things packed up for now.

"Why?" she asked, leaning on a stack of boxes in the living room. "Even if he gets stationed in Norfolk, you'll finish out your school year here before he sells the house."

But you didn't want him to sell his house. You loved it here. Being in his living space was the closest thing to being with him when he was deployed, and you didn't think it was fair that he might have to give this up. What would Edith do without Bradley to help her? What would Bradley do in a different state without his best friend? No, you simply couldn't unpack, just in case, but you also couldn't accept Virginia with any finality until you were explicitly told it was happening.

"I just wish I could talk to him," you whispered.

"Soon," Nat replied, and you jumped, surprised to find you weren't alone in your thoughts. "I just moved a million boxes. I deserve a trip to the wine bar, and so do you. Bradley will be back soon enough."

"Nine days. Not soon enough." 

It was nine days until he was supposed to get back to Norfolk. On Valentine's Day. Then right after that, it was Career Day at your school. You had been holding onto a few of the envelopes and gift cards from him, trying to make them last, but you were almost out. You needed the real thing again.

Natasha groaned. "You are so in love with him, it's kind of gross. Let's go drink wine, and I'll tell you more tales from before the mustache."

You took one more look at the few unopened letters lined up on the coffee table before grabbing the gift card for the wine bar. But even southern California looked gloomy on the drive up. The wine was good, but you were just tired. Natasha told you all about how she tried to give Bradley the call sign Chicken Man, and you laughed at the idea of that emblazoned along the side of his jet. She also seemed to be able to tell just how melancholy you were.

"You're doing great," she told you, setting down her wine glass. "You're counting down the hours until you can talk to Bradley again. Vanessa would have probably been too busy with her water bottles to remember to pick him up from the airport. There's a reason why it's hard, and it's because he loves you as much as you love him."

You did your best to keep it together after that, but there was a lump in your throat, holding back your emotions, and when you got back home, you started crying on the couch. Big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, blurring your vision, but you knew which envelope you were reaching for.

Open me when you've had a bad day

As you tore into the envelope, you realized there was another envelope inside it. The second envelope said Take me to The Bayside Florist and give me to someone who works there.

"What is this, Bradley?" you whispered out loud, reaching for your phone to see if the shop was still open this late on a Saturday. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized they closed in an hour, and you grabbed the envelope along with your phone and keys and ran out to your car.

In a matter of minutes, you parked in front of an adorable flower shop with The Bayside Florist in pink lettering on the awning. You felt a little silly taking the envelope inside, but when you were greeted by an older woman with a warm smile, you started to hand it to her.

"This might sound odd, but my boyfriend is deployed, and he left me this envelope," you said with a laugh. "Apparently I was supposed to bring it here?"

The woman adjusted her glasses as a smile found her lips. "Oh, yes. I remember him. Tall? With a mustache? Handsome?"

You bit your lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. "Yeah, that sounds just like him."

She nodded and opened the envelope, humming in agreement with whatever she read inside. "I have something for you. Wait right here." 

Then she disappeared through a doorway, and you walked around the inside of the shop, examining the arrangements and enjoying the scent of so many types of flowers mingling together. You weren't quite sure what Bradley had up his sleeve from thousands of miles away, but you were almost positive it was about to make your day so much better.

"Special delivery from your boyfriend."

Startled, you spun around to see a stunning bouquet of flowers in every color on the counter, complete with an envelope tucked in amidst the blooms. "That's for me?" you whispered.

"From your boyfriend," she confirmed.

You stifled a whimper as you reached for the flowers. "Am I supposed to pay for this?"

"He already did."

Tears stung your eyes as you pulled the envelope that said Gorgeous from between two roses. It was written in his handwriting. You thought you should read it in the privacy of your own car, so you thanked the woman and then headed back outside. Once you were sitting behind the steering wheel, you set the flowers aside in favor of the note.

Gorgeous,

I never want you to have a bad day, but I really hate that you're having one when I'm not with you. If I could be anywhere in the world right now, I'd choose to be next to you. Will you write about your day in your journal so we can talk about it later? I can't wait to talk about everything with you. I love you.

Bradley

Now that the tears started, you just let yourself cry.

--------------------------

Constantly wondering if your boyfriend was even okay was taking a toll on you. Your classroom was supposed to be your safe haven right now. Your place of comfort. Your refuge. But a few days before Bradley was supposed to get back into Norfolk, you were short and snippy with your class. You didn't mean to be, but it was happening anyway.

"Just sit down," you told Oliver, voice taking on a sharp, scolding edge that was usually never there. All eighteen of your kids sat with their backs straight in their seats and their hands folded on their desks like they were worried you were going to start yelling. This was never how you wanted to conduct your class. These kids were really well behaved for the most part, and you wanted them to have a lot of fun mixed in with their school lessons.

You turned away from them to try to catch your breath. The past few nights had been filled with restless sleep and a pain in your heart that wouldn't go away until you knew Bradley was safe. You cleared your throat, trying so hard to figure out what you wanted to say for your social studies lesson, but you couldn't shake your mind free from the anxiety you were feeling.

Picturing the flowers that you put in a Miller High Life pitcher you found in the kitchen after Bradley didn't appear to own a vase made you smile enough that you were able to turn around again.

"I need everyone to open their textbook to page eighty-seven." The only sound was pages rustling as you added, "And I promise I'll make this a fun unit for us."

When you finally left work that afternoon, you decided to let yourself open the last envelope from Bradley. It had been in your tote bag for a few days, just waiting for the right moment. Open me when you really want some coffee. You could clearly use the extra caffeine today, so you tore into the envelope as you walked across the parking lot. Just like before, there was an envelope inside the first envelope. 

Take me to Starbucks and give me to someone who works there.

Now you were smiling. You got to go to another place of business with an envelope like an absolute lunatic, and you were really looking forward to it. You stopped at the Starbucks closest to your school, and when you handed the envelope to the girl who tried to take your order, she raised one eyebrow.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I think it's kind of a treasure hunt of sorts from my boyfriend who is deployed," you told her with a shrug. 

Then you watched her open the envelope and remove a note along with a gift card. Her eyes skimmed the text, and her face transformed into the sappiest smile. "Oh my god," she said, looking back up at you. "I wish someone loved me this much," she muttered and then turned away from you, reaching for the biggest cup and a Sharpie.

You waited awkwardly for a few minutes while she made your drink. You could tell it was your favorite drink. Bradley somehow ordered your favorite drink for you to enjoy. Warmth filled your body, and you accepted the cup from her. "Thanks," you murmured as she paid using the gift card, and that's when you realized she had written something on the cup.

Gorgeous, I love you. I can't wait to come home. Bradley

"Does he have a brother?"

You looked up at the girl who made your coffee. "What?" you asked, taking the note and the gift card from her. 

"Does your boyfriend have a brother? Because that note is the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

You shook your head, but you were smiling. "No. No brother. Sorry. Thanks for making my coffee."

As you walked outside you read the note, already feeling calmer at the sight of his hand writing. 

Dear Starbucks Employee,

The beautiful woman who handed you this envelope is my girlfriend. I am desperately in love with her, and I would be there with her if I could, but I'm fucking deployed, if you can believe it. Please make her favorite drink for her, and if you wouldn't mind, please write 'Gorgeous, I love you. I can't wait to come home. Bradley' on the cup? Thank you so much.

He had scrawled your favorite drink to your exact specifications below that, and it even tasted perfect. You spent the ride back to Coronado planning out your upcoming Monday. If Bradley arrived back to Virginia on time, you'd be hearing from him by then. Every fiber of your being was hoping he'd call and tell you to pick him up in San Diego, but if he had to stay in Norfolk, you'd take a day off from work to fly out and see him. You had to. You wouldn't be able to go an extra minute without him now. You wanted to hug him and kiss him and give him a blowjob. You needed to feel his hands on your body and listen to his voice while you ran your fingers along his scars. 

Monday couldn't get here fast enough.

-----------------------------

The only thing Bradley wanted to do right now was get his phone in his fucking hands, but he thought that if he brought it up again, someone would tell him the thing had been mysteriously misplaced. He already asked for it three times. He'd been dropped back in Norfolk by air transport, and after a short debrief with a national security team, he would hopefully be allowed to be on his way.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. This way."

He was led into a medical facility first where his bruises and strained neck were examined and the findings were documented. When he realized he got caught up in a dog fighting scenario with the other aviators, he had been more angry than anything else. Didn't these people know he had a perfect girlfriend to get back home to? Did they even care? He made it out mostly unscathed and back to the carrier deck safely, if not a little sore. The one thing that made him almost laugh was the fact that Cyclone would undoubtedly see his medical report, and there was a good chance Admiral Walker would hear from him again.

After the medical consultation, he was led into a debriefing room where he really didn't have much to say about the mission. It had been successful, sure, but he wasn't going to be allowed to discuss it with anyone after this, so he just stuck to answering the questions he was asked.

Then finally, he was given his phone and left on his own. Of course it was nearly dead when he turned it on, but it should be good enough to reach you. Talking to you would come as his top priority before figuring out how he was getting home, but that was a close second. His heart pounded in anticipation of hearing your voice after so many weeks.

It was barely six in the morning in San Diego. Maybe you were up and getting ready for work, but maybe you were still sleeping. It didn't matter. He needed you to know he was coming home. He tapped on your photo, pulling up your contact information as the warm sun and cold Virginia air hit his skin at the same time, and he shivered as soon as the phone stopped ringing. Your voice in his ear was his reward. 

"Bradley!"

"Gorgeous," he sighed, suddenly so exhausted, he could barely stand. One word from you, and all he wanted to do was curl up on his couch with his head on your lap and let you take care of everything.

"Bradley!" You shrieked this time, and he smiled.

"Baby, I'm coming home."

"For good?" you asked, voice soft with an edge of concern that he wanted nothing more than to ease away. "Or just long enough to pack some things and head back to Norfolk?"

He hoisted his duffle onto his shoulder and started walking. "I'm coming home for good. Coming home to you."

---------------------------------

He's safe and he's coming home! I'm working on mapping out the remaining chapters of this story, so if there's something you want to read about, hit me up. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

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@katiebby04

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@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

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@samsgoddess

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@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

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@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

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[reasonsforhope]

By the time Sue Shusterman turns away from the bench at the overlook and back toward the trailhead, she knows the paddleboarders are out in force 300 yards away on the gleaming blue surface of Chatfield Reservoir.  

She knows the high runoff waters have flooded the roots of Chatfield’s willows and cottonwoods, and that the first spring-green layers of the foothills rise to the west like soft fabric. 

How she acquired these life-affirming memories is at first a mystery, since Shusterman is blind and is heading back toward the parking lot making her usual sweep of the path in front with her ever-present white cane.  

But then a friendly voice emerges from the phone that Shusterman is pointing toward the path from her other hand.

A little to the left to stay on the paved path. Looks like there’s a trail all the way down to the beach, about 75 yards, if you wanted to go. I’ll just be here watching, let me know if you need anything. 

The voice is from a live, trained human guide FaceTiming through Shusterman’s phone camera on the Aira ability-assist app. Sight-impaired people have been using Aira’s guides to make it easier to do anything from navigating an airport to filling out an online job form. Now, all 42 Colorado state parks like Chatfield are geofenced to allow any visitor to use Aira for free to stroll the trails with a helpful set of eyes. 

The Aira guides seemingly effortlessly offer what a blind hiker either needs, or wants. If there’s a dangerous steep drop-off on the right, they warn. If the hiker would rather know if the sneezeweed is in bloom or the sailboats are luffing through a turn, Aira offers that instead.

For Shusterman, trying Aira as an outdoors adventure for the first time, the allure was simple: “Independence.” 

“So she’s doing, I think, a phenomenal job of including the necessary safety things, but the perks of the scenery, too,” Shusterman said, as she paused during a conversation with an Aira guide based in Tulsa, Oklahoma. “She’s doing great.”

State accessibility officials recently announced the expansion of Aira to state parks grounds, after previously providing Aira free for other state-related functions such as navigating a government building or getting help on an online site or filling out forms. Colorado cannot control the cellphone signal, though, so parks officials encourage visitors to try Aira at a familiar or close-in park space before ranging farther afield with it. Popular parks like Staunton or Golden Gate contain pockets where signals are not strong. 

For consumers buying access on their own, Aira costs about $50 for 30 minutes of assistance a month. Private employers and governments often buy package access to Aira and other accessibility apps for all employees to use. State accessibility coordinator Theresa Montano, who is blind and accompanied Shusterman on her Chatfield walk, said Amazon buys access so that sight-impaired shipping center employees can navigate steps to pack orders.

Montano uses Aira at her state job, saying the guides on the app can share her computer screen and help her get through an online task in 30 minutes that might take her four hours without help or through older accessibility tools. 

Adding Aira for state-owned lands was wrapped into the overall $250,000 budget for free Aira use on state property and with state websites. The additional utility is an obvious plus, Montano said. 

“This gives blind people the same opportunity to come and enjoy it by themselves or with their family if they want to, and be independent,” she said...

Shusterman walked away taking more from the big picture experience, rather than any particular scenic detail. 

“For me, it was, you know what, I could go for a walk on this path, and I could feel completely safe, and I would enjoy a nice walk and get some exercise, in an unfamiliar area,” Shusterman said. “It’s definitely a real confidence boost for me.”  

-via The Colorado Sun, June 11, 2024

[brechtian]

Possible settings for rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead:

An empty theatre/stage (classic)

A set previously used for or evocative of Hamlet

Backstage of a theatre

An elevator

Any “liminal” space (airport, train station, hallway)

A dennys parking lot (ros & guil must be stoners)

Tom stoppard’s actual house

Random warehouse

A dive bar (bartender is either ros and guil themselves OR Shakespeare OR Tom Stoppard)

House of mirrors

The set of waiting for Godot

A graveyard

IKEA

[en-eunhee]

. ୨. ₊ ┈ EUNHEE AND ENHYPEN RELATIONSHIPS 🗄️ ` ( duos and ships . . . )

` ♡. YANG JUNGWON (04z / eunwon)

shares snacks with him, back hugs, playfully argues, helps him with choreography,watches movies together, gives him pep talks, surprises him with gifts, borrows his hoodies, sits in comfortable silence after long days.

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - 예쁜 은희 (pretty eunhee) her - 정원이 💕 (jungwonie 💕)

WiTH JUNGWON ! ੭୧

jungwon and eunhee met back in their early high school days when they both attended hanlim art school. they were in the same class and have been close ever since.

eunhee once mentioned that she trusts jungwon deeply. she even said that jungwon is one of the few members who listens to her rant for hours.

"one time, it was around 3 a.m., and i had been talking for nearly an hour to my members. most of them were asleep and tired, except for jungwon. his eyes were full of joy as i continued to talk. he was the only member who listened to me all day," — eunhee

` ♡. HEESEUNG (heeeunz) !

cuddles during movie nights, takes him on surprise dates, holds his hand, whispers secrets, plays with his hair, has deep conversations, sings to him, makes personalized playlists, notices small things about eachother

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - my eunhee her - my 희승이 오빠!! (my heeseungie brother)

WiTH HEESEUNG ! ੭୧

heeseung is awfully shy around eunhee. fans notice how he gets very flustered easily when it comes to eunhee. sometimes when she just glances at him, his ears turning burning red.

heeseung always does small things towards eunhee like tying her shoe laces, holding her bags, and holding her hand.

"heeseung..hmm he always does the smallest things for me. the time i went to the airport and there was a huge crowd, he knew i had a fear for small spaces (claustrophobia) so he held my hand. he knows the small things about me and he really shows that he cares for me." - eunhee

` ♡. JAY (eunjay/americanz) !

dances in the kitchen, teaches her guitar, cooks dinner together, matching bracelets, carries around eunhee's hair ties, sends random selfies throughout the day, doodles on his hand,

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - 은희쁘이 (eunhee ppui) her - 내 신용카드 (my credit card)

WiTH JAY ! ੭୧

jay is just eunhee's personal credit card. the moment you see jay and eunhee walk into a mall together, she'll be out of the mall with like 5 bags of clothes and designer stuff that jay bought for her. he even said once that he loves spending money for eunhee.

jay has a soft spot only for eunhee. he always makes sure she's happy and satisfied.

before i-land, eunhee said she and jay had met before due to the fact they trained together and both of them were korean-american.

"i think my happiness is when eunhee's happy. i don't know, it just makes me feel more warmer and more better when i see her smile. it's so comforting." - jay

` ♡. JAKE (eunjae/bubblegumz) !

shares late-night ramen, wears matching sneakers, plays with layla together, goes for ice cream runs, shares inside jokes, plays soccer in the park, helps him pick outfits, exchanges handwritten letter

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - eun 🐈‍⬛ her - bed chem by sabrina carpenter

WiTH JAKE ! ੭୧

jake and eunhee known for their sweet dynamic duo. both known for bickering 24/7

always buying dinner for eunhee, the two are always spotted out getting some type of food at least once a week.

basically eunhee's no.1 best friend. the two always doing lives together every single week.

"jake? he's my best friend forever, he's always stuck with me like glue." - eunhee

` ♡. SUNGHOON (eunhoon) !

secret glances, brush hands casually, share scarves on cold days, have deep conversations at 3 am, take spontaneous photos of each other, hold hands in the dark, share drinks without hesitation, fall asleep next to each other after a long day, ice skating together

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - 공주 (princess) her - my ice prince 🐧

WiTH SUNGHOON ! ੭୧

always talking and together during dance practices.

eunhee admires sunghoon's dedication and enjoys teasing him about his serious side.

small gestures—like how sunghoon's gaze lingers a bit longer on eunhee when she’s focused or how eunhee’s teasing always comes with a softness only reserved for him.

"eunhee just gets me, you know? like, she doesn’t even have to say anything—just being around her makes everything feel easier." - sunghoon

` ♡. SUNOO (eunsun/sunshinez) !

steal glances in crowded rooms, exchange silly selfies, send each other voice notes, braid each other's hair, laugh uncontrollably at inside jokes, hold pinkies when no one's looking, watch k-dramas together while cuddling, have late-night phone calls until they fall asleep,

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - 김으희! ❤️ her - ☀️우

WiTH SUNOO ! ੭୧

sunoo loves how easy it is to be himself around eunhee—she never judges and always joins in on the fun

whether they’re cracking jokes during practice or playfully teasing the other members, their bond is outgoing.

"sunoo has this way of making every day feel like a celebration—he’s my daily dose of sunshine, and I honestly can’t imagine our group without him." - eunhee

` ♡. NI-KI (eunki) !

playful banter, race each other to random spots, height difference, go on arcade dates, challenge each other in video games, sneak out for midnight snacks, practice choreography late into the night, find ways to cheer each other up after a long day.

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

him - 은희 누나 (eunhee sister) her - starboy riki

WiTH NI-KI ! ੭୧

eunhee and ni-ki have a playful sibling-like relationship

they often sneak out during their free time to shop, with eunhee helping riki pick out outfits while he playfully protests her choices.

eunhee often takes on the role of the protective older sister, teasing how he always tries to act cool around the older members.

riki, in turn, loves to poke fun at eunhee's more serious moments, calling her out whenever she gets too focused or competitive.

"ni-ki has this side of him that makes it so fun to be around," - eunhee

` ♡. SOOYOUNG (eunyoung / sarangz) !

late-night gossip sessions, share skincare tips, do each other's makeup, exchange clothes for special occasions, have movie marathons with snacks, attend café dates for desserts, hype each other up before performances, share deep talks about life, take mirror selfies together, play pranks on the boys, surprise each other with little gifts, go on spontaneous shopping sprees, always have each other’s back no matter what.

CONTACTS ⠀𔗨⠀⁺

eunhee: 수영 언니 (너무 사랑한 언니!!) (sooyoung unnie (a sister i love too much)) sooyoung: 우리 은희 💕🎀 (our eunhee)

WiTH SOOYOUNG ! ੭୧

eunhee and sooyoung are an inseparable duo, always there for each other no matter what.

now, as roommates, they spend even more time together, whether it’s late-night conversations over snacks, binge-watching their favorite shows,

"i mean, girls are suppose to be stuck together aren't they?" - sooyoung

─── © en-eunhee 2024 , all rights reserved

[lecsainz]

it's you and me

pairings: arthur leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: the one where you are arthur's girlfriend and want to go to a harry styles concert

authors note: my first smau with arthur hope you guys like it 🫶

✩. . . masterlist !

yn.team

liked by leclercfc, yourusername, and 1.652 others

yn.team y/n mentioned her boyfriend arthur_leclerc in her stories yesterday. what do you guys think?

view all 726 comments

leclecs I love how y/n always exposes arthur to us, lol

arthur_leclerc personally, I didn't like it because I know how to park very well

↳ yourusername arthur, you hit a tree!

↳ arthur_leclerc she was in the middle of the parking space

↳ yourusername she was on the sidewalk, amour

ferraricharlos I love this couple

f1week can arthur fight??

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, yourbestie, and 12.876 others

yourusername look who came to pick me up at the airport

view all 1.826 comments

12leclerc where are you guys?

↳ yourusername monaco baby!

↳ 12leclerc SHE REPLIED TO ME!

formula1days who parked the car??

↳ charles_leclerc y/n obviously

↳ arthur_leclerc 🙄 I parked it

↳ lorenzotl so it was you who hit the pole because everyone was saying that a ferrari had crashed when leaving the parking lot

↳ yourusername it was arthur, enzo!

↳ arthur_leclerc chéri you should defend me 😭

ferraritears THEY ARE SO CUTE

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, sabrinacarpenter, and 18.568 others

yourusername right here, right here spinning out, waiting for ya anddd arthur didn't even get jealous of harry looking at my photo 😎

view all 2.675 comments

arthur_leclerc y/n I took the photo and you were shaking so much that harry asked if you were okay

↳ yourusername guilty as charged 🫣

ynlover you managed to charm him!

arthur_leclerc let's be honest, harry was looking at me 😜

↳ yourusername I'm pretty sure he wanted to be a thruple with us

↳ charles_leclerc oh my lord, what am I reading?

ynarthur what's your favorite song, arthur??

↳ arthurleclerc obviously cinema!

↳ yourusername liar! it's watermelon sugar

f2girl I want a boyfriend to go to harry's concert with me 😭

danielricciardo they didn't even invite me, traitors!

↳ yourusername you were in AUSTRALIA danny

harrygirl the caption being satellite

arthur_leclerc

liked by olliebearman, f2wags, and 18.568 others

arthur_leclerc baby, you and I, we've had our crazy moments, like when you traded me for the one direction boys (just kidding, love!). but through it all, I know deep down that you're mine and I'm yours ❤️

view all 3.659 comments

yourusername who can blame me, it's the one direction love (but I wouldn't trade you for even their concert 😉)

forarthur I want a boyfriend like arthur

yourusername I love you so so so so much

↳ arthur_leclerc I love you more chéri

ynhouse I'm dying from all this cutenes

lorenzotl didn't arthur hate one direction until yesterday?

↳ charles_leclerc y/n made him love the band

↳ yourusername now he knows the whole history and discography of the band

↳ arthur_leclerc cmon now I’m a directioner boy!

[wearebarca]

10. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 10

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8* - Part 9*

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 5,4k

Warnings: none for this one, lot of fluff

Her conversation with Katie served as a bitter distraction during her flight back to Barcelona. She had not let herself think about the words that were spat at her face too much, wanting to enjoy the small amount of time she had left with her friends. When she arrived at the apartment, well after the two Arsenal players, she was met with two sets of eyes on her, both harbouring silent questions. One smile was enough for them to understand that there would be no talking about this and they simply motioned her to join them on the sofa. They spent the rest of the night watching cheesy romance movies and judging the characters on their poor choices and horrible taste in man.

Right now though, sitting 30 000 feet above the ground, with nothing but the soft chatter of the other passengers, Rosalie could not help but drift back to what was said. Alexia wasn’t like that. In the months she had spent with this team, she had never felt like she was being used, and she knew that the Irish defender was simply trying to get under her skin, but Rosalie had not completely healed. She was still fragile, and had just started to feel like she had found somewhere she belonged. Katie’s words, even if she would not admit it, had successfully planted a seed of doubt in her mind.

Stepping out of the airport in the warm Barcelona sun was such a relief for the photographer, who felt the tension leave her shoulders. She took a long, steady breath, the first satisfying one since boarding the plain, and closed her eyes to try and center herself a little. She had asked Lucy to come pick her up, and was slightly dreading the road back to her apartment since she was certain Leah had already told Keira about the events from the night before, and Keira would have, without a doubt, told Lucy. What Rosalie did not expect was to see a certain tattooed defender with a sophisticated Norwegian by her side.

“Hola guapa! How was your trip?” Mapi said, hugging the brunette and immediately taking her bags from her hands. Ingrid was next in line for a hug and handed her a cup of coffee, earning a grateful smile from the smaller woman.

“It was busy, very nice though. It felt good to see my old gang.” She said, refusing to get onto more details. From the side look Ingrid sent her, Rosalie knew that Ingrid was aware of some details and she was praying she wouldn’t ask. Mapi was already walking ahead, crumbling under all the bags she insisted she would carry alone and was beckoning them to follow to the car park.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but I thought Lucy was coming to get me.”

“ She was, but someone,” She said, sending a loving stare at her overly excited girlfriend, “really wanted to pick you up.” The revelation warmed the brunette’s heart who momentarily forgot the harsh words uttered towards her.

“Are you too tired to go get some food with us?” As much as the brunette was dreaming of her own bed at the moment, she also did not want to be alone.

“No no I’ll be fine, as long as it's a quiet place.”

“We were thinking about getting it to go and eat at our place, you could meet Bagheera too!” Mapi said, putting the brunette’s bag in the trunk of her car. Rosalie smiled and quickly agreed. They stopped at a small restaurant and ordered paella that they would share. Their apartment was vast and very tastefully decorated. Rosalie could see the Scandinavian twist in the decor and smiled at some colourful addition that could only be from the Spanish woman.

But the most interesting element of the space was the little ball of black fur sleeping soundly on the beige sofa. Rosalie made a beeline for the little creature, completely forgetting about the house tour she was currently in. She sat next to the cat who’s head instantly went up. She sniffed the photographer’s hand and got up, only to brush its head against her hand and start to purr loudly.

“ Bonjour mon chaton, tu es si belle, oh oui mais quelle beauté, et si gentille j’y crois pas.” She said softly while petting the small cat completely, unaware of Mapi’s presence next to her.

“I understand Alexia, hearing that just made me feel things amiga.” she said laughing while setting up the coffee table up for supper.

“What?”

“She is my best friend, I know her. Also she has been in a foul mood ever since she came back from camp and I’m pretty sure that it’ll change as soon as she sees you tomorrow.” Rosalie sent a look to Ingrid who made a face and silently agreed to her girlfriend’s statement. “And… We all saw you two back at the club.” She said winking at her.

Rosalie gave up playing dumb and simply rolled her eyes at the Spanish woman. “All of you?”

“Well, Sandra and Irene are aware since it was their plan to make Alexia mad. Patri and Pina suspect, Lucy and Keira obviously, and the rest can see that something is going on with their captain but can’t seem to pinpoint what.” Ingrid said, handing the French-Canadian a plate.

“They are blind yes.” Mapi said

“Mostly intimidated probably. Alexia is extremely protective of her private life.” Ingrid said, pouring them all a glass of white wine

“You don’t say.” Rosalie said, taking a sip, “I understand though, it seems like Martina has no boundaries. Anyway, how was the national break for you guys?”

The conversation flowed nicely all night, with Ingrid and Rosalie sharing about their respective camps and Mapi keeping them up to date on what had happened with Barça while they were gone. The brunette didn’t check the time once, which meant that she stayed very late and ended up accepting the couple’s offer to take the guest room.

National camp was always a hassle, and her weekend at Leah’s wasn’t exactly a vacation either. Add to that a night spent in an unfamiliar bed and the unrelenting flow of energy that was the Spanish defender, even early in the morning, Rosalie looked and felt like a zombie. She walked in the training center with her sunglasses still perched on her nose and a vice grip on the large coffee cup in her hand.

Dealing with Martina was the last thing she needed in her state, so she decided that it would be best if she sent one of the other photographers on the pitch, just so she could catch up on what she had missed during her time away.

It would be a small week for the photographer, with only three days before the weekend. There would be a game on Saturday but she was excited about it. Game days had become her favourite part of the job.

The thing that stressed her the most was her race quickly approaching. The Barcelona marathon was less than a week away and the French-Canadian wondered how she would deal with her level of exhaustion, work and her last lap of training.

Time seemed to pass without Rosalie noticing. She was so caught up in her emails she completely ignored her hunger. She kept working like that all through lunch and almost jumped when she was pulled out of her trance by her door opening and Lucy barging in her office.

“Didn’t your mum teach you to knock before entering?”

“Oh she’s sassy today.” Lucy said, taking a seat in the chair facing the brunette and unpacking hers and the photographer’s lunch. One look at the sandwich and her emails were forgotten. Without even glancing at the older woman, she grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite.

“You’re welcome, ungrateful twat.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes and finished swallowing. “Merci maman.”

“Are you gonna survive your day?” She asked, grabbing her own sandwich.

“Who knows, I feel like I got buried alive under all those emails.” She said, taking a sip off her cold coffee. “ I’m so tired I can’t even focus.”

“Can’t you work from home?” The brunette took a second to contemplate the idea, and came to the conclusion that nothing productive could come from her staying here.

“I could. I probably should.” She said, A big sigh left her lips as she lowered her head to her desk

“Are you the lead photographer on Saturday’s game or are you resting for your race?”

“I’ll be working, the game is early so I’ll be fine. Leah, Lia, Steph, Beth and Viv are coming to see the game too aren’t they.” She asked, sitting up and rubbing her palms on her eyes in a vain attempt to wake herself up.

“Yes, they’ll arrive the night before. The LW’s will stay at our place while the rest have hotel rooms in town. ” Just like they had promised, her friends were coming to cheer for her during her marathon. They would be staying at Lucy and Keira’s place and hotels so the French-Canadian would not have to worry about hosting and focus solely on her race. She was touched that her friends had thought about this, but the thing that would likely keep her up, was the thought of her old life and new life colliding. She knew that in the football world, everyone knew everyone. They all had heard of each other, or played against each other, sometimes even played together. But having them all interact outside of football, seeing the girls that were with her through some of the toughest times meet the people that had brought back her happiness, that was a different story. What if they didn’t get along. Afterall, England and Spain were famous rivals on the national scene and she was very close to both of the respective captains.

Rosalie could feel the start of a nasty headache creeping in as she closed her laptop. “Allez Frenchy, gather up your stuff and go home.”

The English player was already up and picking up the empty wrappers from their lunch. “Have you spoken to Alexia since you came back?”

The mention of the captain made her heart leap a little in her chest. She had wanted to, really, but the words from Katie still resonated in her mind and the thought of them being even remotely close to the truth had kept her from reaching out. She stayed silent, knowing that Lucy was aware that she had not.

“We didn’t tell her anything if that’s what you’re scared of. We only said that you were tired from the trip. She’s clearly worried tho.”

“I’ll speak to her tonight.” She said with a smile, walking out of her office. From the windows, she could see the whole team in action. As if she had felt her presence, Alexia’s head snapped up just in time to see the photographer pass.

She could see from her posture alone just how tired she was. She knew the woman had not spent a proper night at her place since she came back, so inviting her to hers seemed like a lot. She didn’t want the brunette to feel like she was suffocating her, so she decided that she’d let her do the first move. If she wanted to see her it would be on her terms, without feeling obligated to.

She was at peace with her decision for a total of twenty minutes. The look on Lucy’s face when she came back on the pitch, along with Keira's quiet but audible “is she ok?” were enough for the blonde to lose her cool. She herself had a hard time understanding why she felt protective over the brunette but truly it didn’t matter.

Concentrating for the rest of training turned out to be a difficult task, but Alexia sped through the rest of the exercises and was one of the first off the pitch. This behavior was very uncommon for the Barcelona captain which left a few of the girls confused. Only two had an idea why the midfielder was so eager to end this session.

“You should bring her pasta. It’s what Sara has recommended her to eat a week before her race and she’s a sucker for good pasta.” Lucy said when Alexia walked past her. The midfielder stopped in her tracks.

“Rosalia has not had a moment alone since she came back, you don’t think I should let her be?” She was surprised that the woman who acted like a big sister towards the photograph would encourage her to pursue the French-Canadian.

“I can’t tell you why, but being alone is not what she needs right now.” Lucy said with a hint of sadness and worry in her eyes. “Oh, and bring Nala, she’ll be so happy.” That was all the Catalonian needed to hear. Her plan was simple. She would go to her apartment to leave her training bag and pick up Nala. She would then go to the market and get all the ingredients she needed and walk back to Rosalie’s place.

It was around dinner time when Alexia arrived in front of the photographer’s building. She was glad she didn’t have to wait long until someone exited so she could let herself in without having to ring a random doorbell. The thing the blonde had clearly not thought of, was her little dog remembering the space, and most likely, smelling the photographer through the door.

As soon as Alexia reached the apartment door, Nala started to bark and jump, scratching the door with her little paws. Alexia cringed at the ruckus her dog was making and tried to calm her but nothing was working. She was about to drop all her bags and pick up the little beast when the sound of the door opening made her look up.

Rosalie was groggy. She was sleeping on her couch after succumbing to her fatigue while working when barking had pulled her from her slumber. She knew that there were no dog owners in her building and the sound was from right outside her door. She surely wasn’t prepared to see Alexia crouched down in front of her door, fighting with the small dog who was hell bent on freeing herself and running towards the photographer.

“Ale? What are you doing here?” The footballer stood up with the little excited dog still wiggling in her arms. Rosalie smiled widely and motionned to the player to pass Nala to her, which she gladly did. While Rosalie was busy greeting the fluff ball, Alexia picked up the grocery bags and made her way to the brunette's kitchen. She was happy to see that the woman had not started dinner yet and immediately started to prepare the food.

“ Ale, are you gonna tell me why you are here?” She asked, sitting down at the breakfast bar, Nala still in her arms.

“I am making you dinner! I can go after, if you want me to, but I know you are tired and I wanted to do this for you.” Rosalie could feel tears threatening to fall as she watched the blonde work silently. It took a moment for Alexia to realize the smaller woman had not moved from her spot in front of her.

“You can do your things like normal Rosalie, just act like I am not here.” She said, finally turning towards her. Upon seeing her eyes, Alexia walked around the kitchen island and crouched down in front of the photographer. “What’s wrong?”

“ Nothing, this is perfect.” The brunette said, whipping away her tears with the hand that wasn’t holding Nala. Alexia understood why the English couple was worried. She took her hand and guided her to the sofa where she could see a pillow and a pile of blankets.

“ You can rest more, I will wake you when the food is ready.” Rosalie got comfortable once more, with the little pomeranian snuggling in her arms. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep once more.

It took Alexia a little more than half an hour to cook enough food so that the brunette would also have lunches ready. The sight she was met with when she moved to the living room warmed her heart. The brunette was bundled up in thick blankets in a fetal position and all that could be seen from the small dog were her little ears sticking out of the blanket. Alexia quickly snapped pictures of the two before carefully waking her up.

They ate together in comfortable silence, simply contempt in each other’s presence. Alexia insisted on doing the dishes herself, not wanting for the photographer to have anything to do once she would be gone. Rosalie took place at the counter with her laptop. She needed to finish a couple things before bed but she found that watching the captain so at ease in her kitchen was very distracting. This was as domestic as it could be, and it felt so natural, easy.

Once she was done, Alexia took a seat next to the photographer, closed her laptop and scooted closer. She turned around to face the blonde and as soon as their eyes met, she felt the remaining tension slowly escape her. Alexia’s hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair that had escaped from Rosalie’s bun, and finished her path on her cheek. She leaned into her hand and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of her palm.

“Thank you so much.” Rosalie whispered, not wanting to break the stillness of this moment.

“I am happy to do this for you.” She whispered back, slowly inching closer. “Rosalia..”

The word was but a breath on the footballer’s lips. She was so close Rosalie felt the air tickling her cheek. Their forehead connected, closing the distance even more.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” She sounded almost uncertain, as if she was scared the brunette would reject her. The thought alone almost pulled a chuckle from Rosalie.

“Oui, please.” She said, almost desperately, “You never have to ask again.”Her lips felt like coming home. How is it that after so little time, this woman had managed to break down all her defense and slithered her way into the depths of her mind.

The kiss was soft, unhurried. Their lips danced together, only parting to let out shuddering breaths. Rosalie reached out, pulling the blonde closer. It was like every part of her being was calling out for her. The heat was rising quickly, the need to be closer, feel her warmth invade all-consuming.

Rosalie was almost ashamed at the whine that escaped her when the footballer pulled away, leaving the forehead connected, as if she too, couldn’t fathom being separated just yet. “Rosalia, this is not what you need tonight.” She whispered, her hand caressing her cheek.

As good as her lips felt, Rosalie knew that the blonde was right. And yet, she could not let the blonde go. “ Can you stay please?” She asked in a broken voice that made Alexia’s heart shatter.

“Of course preciosa.” Alexia borrowed the same clothes she did the night before camp and stayed in the living room while the photographer went to shower. There was a shelf in the bookcase with what seemed like a collection of photo albums. They all had years written on the spine. Alexia picked one from what she assumed would be the brunette’s college years and sat on the sofa.

She was still flipping through the pages when the brunette emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet and only wearing underwear and an oversized t-shirt. It took a lot of self control for the blonde to keep her eyes from trailing down her toned legs. She put aside the album and took the hand Rosalie was holding out for her.

They settled together in bed, Alexia’s arms wrapped around her protectively. In this position, sleep came to her very easily. It was arguably the best sleep she had had since leaving for camp and the brunette most definitely needed it.

The wake up in itself, was everything but peaceful. She could not breathe. It was like her face was blocked by something warm and fury, with hair getting in her nose and mouth. She panicked and rose from the bed, grabbing the ball of fluff that had conveniently chosen her face as a resting spot. She coughed up a few hairs, still holding the dog at arm's length.

She was still groggy from sleep, but it did not keep her from registering the sound of Alexia’s laughter echoing next to her. “Your little beast almost killed me and you’re laughing?” She said indignantly, bringing Nala to her chest and kissing her head. She simply could not be mad at the little dog, but could definitely direct her anger towards the owner.

“You were so peaceful, you slept through the alarm, so I thought you needed something a little stronger to wake you up.” The smile on Alexia’s face was simply radiant. Her hair was wild from her night of sleep and her eyes were shining brightly in the morning light. Rosalie could not do anything but smile at the blonde and put the little dog down, only to jump on the blonde to playfully attack her.

This playful mood persisted all throughout the day. From the car ride to Alexia’s place so she could drop off Nala and pick up her training stuff, to their interaction on the pitch during training. Rosalie managed to capture the biggest amount of shots of Alexia smiling at the camera, although everyone knew it wasn’t at the camera she was smiling at, but rather the small woman behind it.

The build up to Saturday’s game was a lot smoother than usual. With the Barça captain’s mood having brightened a lot and the excitement of a home game palpable, all smiles could be seen in the viewing room. As soon as the meeting started, there was nothing but determination written on the girls faces.

There was only one who seemed out of it. She was always like this before a race. In her head, quiet, but inside, her mind was roaring. Her fears, her strategies, her goal pace, her desired splits, she was mapping everything out, leaving nothing to chance.

To everyone’s eyes, Rosalie looked empty, which concerned some of the girls who, instead of disturbing the photographer, seeked out answers in Lucy and Keira. The girls knew that Rosalie was simply in her game mode and would likely stay that way til after the race.

The only person who seemed to pull a smile from the brunette was none other than the captain herself. However fleeting it might have been, she was proud to have been the one to make her smile.

Sunday was game day, and Rosalie vowed to herself , for the sake of her friends, to be there for them. Tonight, she would have time to worry for herself. So she pulled up at the stadium coffee in hand and ready for a home game.

She was the one capturing the player's arrival. She loved this part almost just as much as the game itself. The girls were all smiles yet again, confident in their abilities and preparation. Upon seeing the photographer smiling they all greeted her similarly, often hugging her or high fiving her.

As always, when Alexia came around the corner, Rosalie’s breath caught in her throat. She was wearing a dark green tennis skirt, a white shirt and that leather jacket that made the photographer drool. She was mesmerizing and Rosalie could hardly hide her staring even behind her camera.

The blond stopped in front of her and opened her arms. Her familiar smell automatically calmed her.

« Ça va bien aller, Rosie, tu es prête. » She whispered in her ear before pulling away. Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Although heavily accented, Alexia’s sentence was flawless and the photographer could not help but smile widely at the thought of the footballer learning this for her.

Out on the field, the sun was shining bright and the stands were almost full. She immediately spotted her little group of friends frantically waving her way. She waved back and prepped her equipment.

It was a wonderful game. Five nil with a beautiful header from Alexia and a goal from Mapi. The pictures she had taken of their celebration together were some of her favourites she had taken so far at Barcelona. It showed perfectly how strong their friendship was. She’d had to print it out and give it to them later.

As she suspected, her friends had walked down and were stepping on the pitch as she was taking off her media bib. Leah was the first to reach the photographer, sneaking behind her and grabbing her in a tight hug from behind.

“ Howdy Frenchy, ready for your big day?” She asked, resting her chin on the brunette’s shoulder. Rosalie grabbed her hands around her waist and laughed as the blond lifted her and essentially carried her towards the group of Arsenal players. She did not let go, even after putting her down.

Alexia was very aware of that fact. She was on the other side of the pitch signing jerseys and greeting fans, but she could not help but keep a close eye on the brunette. She had seen Leah approach her, seen the way her arms had wrapped around her, and this was simply not sitting right with her.

She was aware, in the back of her mind, that Rosalie had confirmed that Leah was with the Swiss captain, and of the remaining fans' eyes following her every move, but for a second, these details evaded her mind.

She crossed the distance separating her and the photographer in a few seconds and arrived behind the two. The only problem was that she did not, for the life of her, think about what she would say once she had reached the little group.

The girls got quiet upon seeing the Spanish captain. Rosalie and Leah both made a curious face before turning around. Rosalie smiled widely at the Catalonian and opened her arms.

“That was such a beautiful goal Ale!” She said while the girl was holding her.

“Thank you bonita.” They were then met with a stunned group of five women who had certainly not put Alexia Putellas hugging their best friend in front of them, and a stadium full of fans, on their bingo card.

“Hola,” The Spanish woman said upon seeing their dumbfounded looks. She stepped closer to them, her hand never leaving the brunette’s waist. “Did you enjoy the game?”

They all knew each other, having played against each other for club and country, so introductions were not a need. It was very weird for Rosalie, seeing everyone interact like that. She noticed Alexia was colder towards Leah, and the reaction was clearly amusing the English captain. They all exchanged a few words, asking about their season so far, with Viv and Alexia clearly hitting it off thanks to them being the biggest football nerds the brunette had ever met. During their conversation, Alexia’s hand never left Rosalie’s hips. It was a calming, grounding touch which the photographer welcomed greatly.

The stadium was slowly emptying. The fans were bustling with happiness after such a wonderful victory. Even the staff was nearly done picking up the remaining equipment and eager to go home to finally relax. The only people on the pitch were Rosalie and her small band of footballers. They all spoke and laughed together, unaware that someone was watching them.

From the mezzanine, Martina had a perfect view of the Arsenal players along with the Barcelona captain and photographer. An idea started to bloom in her mind.

“Ok I think it might be time to go, Rosalia.” Alexia whispered in her ear. She was right, dinner was quickly approaching and she needed to be in bed early. The start of the race was at eight in the morning and god knows Rosalie would not sleep much tonight.

She in fact, did not. She was up at five, already dressed in her lucky red sports bra, a black zip-up hoodie and running short, and pacing around. Her oatmeal was getting cold on her breakfast counter. Lucy was picking her up. It was their little tradition. Ever since she had moved to England, every racing event she had been a part of, Lucy had always been the one driving her, something about needing family to be there for her.

Lucy arrived at her apartment at six, because she knew that Rosalie would not have eaten anything. It was always the same. She would arrive an hour before the agreed time, eat breakfast with the Canadian, more like force feeding her, and leave, all of this mostly done in silence. Rosalie always felt bad for her pre-race attitude but Lucy understood. She had worked with countless superstitious players with weird and annoying rituals, silence was the most peaceful she had encountered for sure.

It was usually when they arrived on site that Rosalie’s tongue got loose. “Will they be there at the start?”

“Yes, and someone will be there at every water stop, everything is already planned.” Lucy said, squeezing the photographer’s hand. They got out of the car and Rosalie headed straight for the English women and engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you for being here, ma grande soeur.”

“Je t’aime, tu le sais ça”

“Je t’aime aussi, Luce”

The tent was full of runners. Some clearly experienced and others who seemed like it was their first ever race. Rosalie respected all of them, she knew how hard your first was and she valued all the training that went into this sport. She also loved the community built around it, whatever your level of experience, they were all here together with a common goal in mind, reach the finish line. She found an empty bench at the back of the tent and pulled out her trusty Asics Metaspeed. Before lacing them up, she took out her noise cancelling earbuds and pooped them in. She hardly ever ran with music, but she purchased them solely for their nose cancelling abilities.

Ten minutes before the star and Rosalie was outside the tent stretching. She could see the growing crowd assembling around the inflatable arch where the signal would be given. Her friends were likely already there, with Beth, Leah and Keira complaining about how early it was and Viv, Lia and Lucy attempting to tame their grumpiness.A part of her mind hoped she would see Alexia somewhere, maybe with some of the Barça girls, but she wasn’t getting her hopes up, after all, she had not even thought about properly inviting them.

Five minutes before the start. She was walking slowly towards the starting line, making her path among the other runners. She had a goal in mind, and so she needed to start this race at the front. She smiled at the other racers, the apprehension palpable in the air, as she advanced more and more towards the front line.

Two minutes before the signal. Rosalie was happy with the spot she had managed to slither into. Almost in the middle, completely at the front. all she could hear was the sound of her breathing. Her heart was pounding in her chest as her eyes scanned the crowd for the first time.

Hundreds of people were screaming and cheering for their loved ones, and at the front, right behind the gate was her family. She smiled at them and waved. It took a second for her to realize that they were in fact, not alone. More than half of the Barcelona femini team was at their side, cheering with homemade signs.

Thirty seconds before the start, Rosalie's green eyes met with hazel ones. She was smiling, a calm expression on her face. She was here. A new kind of determination lit up inside her.

The signal was finally heard and all that was left to do was put one foot in front of the other.