#i don't know if you still write her but i had to reply for old times sake
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eternalxvenus · 7 months ago
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༻ room for one more? ༺
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summary: after many failed dates, you begin to give up on the dating scene until Sarah and John B give you an interesting proposal.
cw: smut 18+, sarah x f!reader x john b, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, baby), brief drug use, lmk if i missed any!
wc: 3.6k
notes: thank you to the lovely @juniebugg for giving me this amazing idea, i loved writing it and hope i did it justice 🙏🏽
☆ obx masterlist ☆
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The sun was setting but the day was still hot, a soft wind tickling your skin. You were lying on your towel, opting to enjoy the last few rays of the sun with Kie. JJ, Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah were all in the water swimming and playing around. You all had a rough week for different reasons and so JJ called for a mandatory beach day.
As you dozed in and out, listening to the sound of the waves, Kie nudged your side softly. "So... how is the whole dating thing coming along?"
Even though she was genuinely curious, you couldn't help the sting of embarrassment as you tried not to groan. "Not so great. I have a date with Kelce tomorrow, but I'm not over the moon excited." You turned to look at Kie through your sunglasses with a tight smile. "If this one doesn't work out, I'm giving up."
Her nose scrunched up in mild disapproval. "Kelce? I didn't think you'd go for someone in that circle.
Truth be told, you usually wouldn't. Even though the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing isn't as relevant anymore, some Kooks were still stuck in their old ways. "Me either. He came up to me and started a conversation at the boneyard a couple nights ago and asked for my number. Now we suddenly have a date at the country club," you sighed with a shrug.
"Even if it doesn't go well, don't stress it. You don't have to push a relationship anytime soon– you're still young."
You sat up and turned onto your back, deciding to take a nap while you could. "Easy for you to say. You have JJ, Cleo has Pope, and Sarah has John B. I'm the odd one out." Kie gave you a solemn smile but didn't say anything else, which you were thankful for.
A few hours later, everyone was out of the water, and the wind picked up leaving goosebumps on their wet skin. While everyone was drying off, Kie woke you up and said it was time to go.
You asked John B to take you home because you had plans tomorrow. As everyone laughed and joked around with one another, you couldn't bring yourself to be in a cheerful mood knowing they each had their special person within the group.
Once you were home, you immediately took a warm shower to try and let the warm water relax you. It did somewhat, but it didn't stop your brain from overthinking. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning in bed, one melatonin later, you finally were able to fall asleep and stay asleep.
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The room was unbearably hot when you woke up. You flung the covers off you as you wiped the light sheen of sweat from your forehead. You'd left the window open, and your AC wasn't on. With an irritated groan, you got up and closed the window. Wanting to cool down your room as quick as possible, you turned the AC on as low as it could go.
You checked your phone and saw a few missed messages.
Kie: have fun on your date, lmk how it goes!
Sarah: if you aren't busy later come swing by the chateau :)
Kelce: morning, i'll be there at 1 to pick you up for lunch. can't wait to see you.
You sent in your replies and got ready for your date with Kelce. Light makeup and a cute but simple white dress. As you grabbed it from your closet, you saw the red dress you shoved in the back with the price tag still attached. You'd bought it impulsively while shopping with the girls one day but had never worn it. 
It was a mid-thigh deep cherry red with a slit and showed off your cleavage perfectly—according to Sarah, at least. It had never seen the outside of your closet, no matter how many times your friends tried to make you wear it. You never felt like you could truly pull it off.
There were five minutes to spare when you'd finally finished up. As you were spraying your perfume a text from Kelce came in letting you know he was outside. You grabbed your purse and met him outside, where he sat in his car.
A small sigh left your lips. He didn't bother to meet you at the door. Perhaps he wasn't the gentleman type. You got into his expensive car, the leather seat cool from the AC blasting on high.
"Ready to go?" He asked, giving you a once over. You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. Neither of you spoke much the entire ride there. You sat on your phone checking social media, playing games, anything to pass the time.
Kelce parked in front of the country club and beckoned you to follow him. He led you to the outdoor patio that connected to a restaurant. After a waiter sat you both and you ordered drinks, Kelce started the conversation.
"So, is this your first time at the country club?."
"Uh... yeah, it is."
"What do you think of it?" he said, taking a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him.
You shrugged, "It's nice, I can see why people come here." There was a beat of silence and you knew this date wasn't going to be the best.
"Honestly, I'm surprised we're here right now. I never thought I'd be taking a pogue on a date at the country club. But you're really hot, so I've got no complaints."
His statement made you internally roll your eyes. "Right..."
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You were back home, feet aching slightly from your shoes, and the heat was making you feel groggy and gross. The date was not good. All Kelce could talk about was himself, the kook life, and how he wanted to bring you to a party at Topper's next week. You declined. He also made slick remarks about you being a pogue which pissed you off.
You: hey sarah, i'll be over in a bit.
She sent a thumbs to your message. You got in your car and made your way to the chateau. When you pulled up, you saw John B out by the deck. 
Inside you could see Sarah walking around so you went in to greet her.
"Hey, I'm here," you said knocking on the door as you walked inside. 
"Hey! Glad you could make it." She sat the plates she was holding into the cabinet and motioned for you to sit. She came over and sat next to you on the couch as you both got comfortable. "Kie mentioned you had a date… how did it go?"
You picked at your nails and shook your head. "Not too great."
Sarah hummed sympathetically. "Well, Kelce isn’t as interesting as he makes himself out to be." You both laughed as you nodded in agreement.
You laid back on the couch letting your head fall back. "When is everyone else coming?" assuming Sarah or John B had something planned for everyone tonight.
"Actually, I only invited you. John B and I wanted to talk to you about something," she sighed. You felt nervousness bloom in your stomach as she stood up. "I'm gonna go get John B, just sit tight."
While waiting for them to come back your mind was wandering, not sure what could be so important that they had to talk to you together and in person. The door swung open and Sarah walked back in with John B right behind her. No one spoke as they pulled up two chairs and sat in front of you on the couch. John B gave a soft smile which helped your nerves just a little.
"Okay so," Sarah spoke up. "We weren't really sure how to go about this so just bear with me here. You're one of our best friends and we've spent a lot of time together over the years..."
You could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost drowning out Sarah's voice. Please don't tell me they don't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself.
"Anyways, me and John B have been talking. We both find you attractive obviously. And we wanted to invite you to bed with us! Like a threesome." Sarah had a smile on her face and your eyes widened.
"W-what? You want to have a threesome? With me?" They both nodded.
"Basically, me and Sarah had been talking and we asked each other who we'd want to hook up with if we were single. To our surprise we both said you, so we figured why not just ask."
Your face felt burning hot with shyness and embarrassment. You'd only had sex one time and it wasn't all that great. You and your boyfriend at the time had wanted to lose your virginities to each other but neither of you knew what you were doing.
Sarah's hand grabbed yours and pulled you out of your swarming thoughts. "You don't have to answer right now." She was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb reassuringly. "Go home and just think about it. We'll be waiting patiently for your answer— no pressure at all, okay?"
The air in the room felt a little less heavy. You knew they wouldn't force you or be mad if you decided not to. "Okay," you said with a small smile.
They both hugged you, walked you to your car, and waved you off home. On the ride back, all you could think about was whether you should accept or not. You weren't experienced and didn't want to disappoint them.
You were laying in bed but once again couldn't sleep. You decided to take a few hits of the weed pen JJ had given you a while back, it's lasted you a while since you only use it when you can't sleep or need to relax.
Once you felt the high encompassing your mind you laid down and closed your eyes. Your mind drifted to the thought of being in bed with Sarah and John B. With that, you fell asleep.
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It had been three days since your threesome invitation. You had thought about it a lot. Even though you hadn't spoken to Sarah and John B directly, you all still talked in the group chat with everyone else like normal.
It was still early in the morning when you texted Sarah.
You: hey are you and John B up yet?
20 minutes later, you got a reply.
Sarah: good morning! i am but he's still sleeping lol. what's up?
You: i've given it some thought and i wanna do this but are you sure? i'm not the most experienced when it comes to all that
Sarah: i'm so happy! thank you for trusting us and don't worry we'll both be there to guide you. are you free tonight?
You said yes and she told you to come over at 7. That gave you 11 hours to completely freak out before heading over there.
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The warm air from outside blew into your car as you sat outside the chateau, trying to give yourself a mini pep talk. They suggested that you come in loungewear, so you wore shorts and a cropped tank top with no bra, all things considered.
You went up and knocked on the door and waited. John B came and greeted you with a hug. He didn't hide the fact that he was taking in your body. 
"Hey, come in. Sarah's finishing up in the shower so she should be out in a few minutes." With a brief nod, you followed him inside.
It was so weird, normally the chateau felt like a second home. You'd help yourself to whatever and never felt out of place. This time it was the complete opposite. You didn't want to touch anything or sit without someone telling you to. You felt like a guest, who was visiting for the first time.
John B sensed your nervousness and gave you a smirk. "Don't get all shy now sweetheart, we haven't even started. Speaking of which, is there anything you wanna do? We could have some takeout, watch a movie, anything really."
You gave him a puzzled look. "I thought we were going to... you know."
"I love your enthusiasm," he chuckled. "We are, but Sarah and I both thought it'd be best to ease into it rather than just jump right in. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you."
It was the little things like this that reminded you that these are your best friends. They knew you like the back of their hand and wanted this to be enjoyable for you and them. "A movie sounds nice," you said with a smile.
A little while later you were all sat on the couch watching some random movie that you'd picked. It wasn't all that good but you were still tuned in. Your eyes glanced away from the TV when you felt Sarah's hand start grazing the inside of your thigh. She was still facing forward almost as if nothing was happening. You looked back at the TV and spread your legs a little wider.
It was summer, entirely too hot for any blankets— even with the cool air of the AC blowing— so if John B looked, he'd see what was happening. The light, teasing touches went on for a few more minutes and you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. You were ready to break the silence and ask for more until you felt John B's lips on your neck. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.
"This okay?" he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. "Use your words, pretty girl."
You managed to whimper out a soft 'Yes' which encouraged them both to keep going. Sarah's hand moved higher, lightly rubbing you through your shorts. A moan slipped from your pouty lips at the contact and you tried grinding your hips against her hand for more stimulation. "Let's go to the bed," Sarah whispered.
The short walk was filled with little kisses and light touches, none of you wanted to stop even for a second. Sarah instructed you to take off your clothes and lay on the bed. She and John B did the same as she sat behind you and John B positioned himself in between your thighs.
"Fuck... your pussy is dripping." You attempt to close your legs but he has a strong grip on your thighs. "Don't try and hide yourself, I wanna see everything."
Sarah brought her hands up to massage your tits, your nipples feeling painfully hard. "John B is gonna use his mouth to make you feel good, okay?"
"Okay– oh!" He wasted no time licking a long stripe to collect your arousal on his tongue.
"How does she taste baby?" Sarah asked. You could hear the lust and neediness in her voice. "She's so fucking sweet, like candy." John B couldn't help but moan as he continued to move his tongue in and out of your hole. You felt one of Sarah's hands leave your breast to touch herself behind you. Her soft moans make you even more turned on.
John B brought his mouth to your clit and sucked hard. That was all it took to have you falling over the edge in pleasure. One hand squeezed Sarah's arm while the other tugged on John B's brown tresses. Your moans filled the room as you rode out your first orgasm of the night.
Sarah replaced your spot in front of John B and once again he wasted no time lapping at her essence. Once she reached her peak John B didn't stop he was pushing her into overstimulation and instructed you to hold her legs open.
"John B! Please– ohmygod– it's too much!" she tried to push his head away but he didn't budge until he pulled another orgasm from her. You watched in amazement as she started to squirt making a mess of the bed and his face. He wore your combined juices proudly, not bothering to wipe any of it off. 
You leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck Sarah you look so hot like this, squirting all over the place, being so messy." She whimpered at your words as John B finally gave her some reprieve.
She pulled you down so your lips collided with hers in a heated bruising kiss. Her tongue swiped across your lip and made its way into your mouth massaging your tongue.
In the corner of your eye, you saw John B stroking his hard cock slowly. Sarah noticed as well and gave you a smirk. "Let's show him how thankful you are for making you cum."
John B positioned himself up against the headboard and Sarah brought you face to face with his length. "Grab the base and take him into your mouth. He likes it really messy," She whispered while keeping her gaze on him. You followed her instructions and did your best to please him.
Once you'd taken as much as you could into your mouth, a light gag leaving your throat, he groaned. "Fuuuuck, that's it, take it all in that tight little throat." You went at your own pace for a bit, then Sarah took over gagging you on his cock at a brutal pace. Your eyes watered and there was spit and drool all over your chin and his pelvis. John B's thighs tensed and without warning his load filled your throat forcing you to swallow it all. 
You coughed a bit and Sarah rubbed your back soothingly while you and John B caught his breath. "You did so good baby." She went to kiss your neck and caress your body.
The praise did things to you. "Thank you." John B pulled you against him and kissed you deeply. "Do you wanna keep going, sweetheart?" John B muttered against your lips. The room felt so hot in combination with all the body heat and the summer air. You were definitely spent, but you wanted to go again. "I want you inside, please."
He nodded and moved you down to straddle him. Sarah moved to sit on his face, facing you. She moaned, feeling his tongue on her clit again. You sink down on his length feeling completely and utterly full. Sarah pulled you in for a kiss as you rocked your hips in a slow rhythm.
The stimulation on your clit from grinding felt delicious, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. One look at Sarah and you could tell she was close too. "I wanna cum together," you whispered against her lips. "Okay, together." she nodded. John B pushed his hips up to get impossibly deeper and gave a harsh such on Sarah's clit, pushing you both over the edge.
You both collapsed onto the bed, your body completely worn out. Sarah and John B left kisses and comforting touches anywhere they could, telling you how well you did and that they were so proud. Their voices faded away as sleep overtook you.
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A month after your night with Sarah and John B things couldn't have been better. You'd spent many pleasure-filled nights at the chateau. They were always showing you something new and making you feel so good. There were even times when it would be just one of them if the other was busy or not around.
You weren't expecting the text from Sarah asking you to come over considering you were just there two days ago. She asked you the wear that red dress which made you even more confused.
Walking into the chateau, not bothering to knock, you saw the table with lots of food and a candle adorning the middle of the table. "What's all this?" you questioned. John B and Sarah both turned from their spot in the kitchen and greeted you. 
"We wanted to do something special to thank you, you look beautiful by the way," he said leading you to the empty chair. They sat down at the table and you could tell something was coming up. Even Sarah looked a bit nervous. Maybe they were going to end things.
"So, we don't want to keep you here with this uncertainty. We did all these because this past month has been amazing. You've always been a great friend and I think– we think– doing this has made us incredibly closer." You nod in agreement. "We want you to be our girlfriend. We'll be an official polyamorous couple. I don't want to have to give you up to someone else and neither does Sarah. We want you to be ours and we'll be yours completely."
You felt like the wind had been sucked out of you. They wanted you to be their girlfriend. Before you could say anything Sarah chimed in. "Sorry if this seems sudden and we understand if you want to keep things how they are. You don't have to have an answer–"
"Of course I would," you cut her off with a wide smile. You could see the worry leave both of their faces. "God I love you." Sarah laughed leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, John B following suit.
The rest of the night was spent having an amazing dinner and even better sex with your new partners. Never in a million years did you think this would be your life but you loved it and you loved them. They were your best friends and lovers wrapped in one.
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floatyflowers · 6 months ago
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Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 2
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<<<Part 1
Through the years spent at Dragonstone, you managed to strengthen your ties with your siblings, your mother, Baela and Daemon.
You even visit Rhaenys and Corlys, and became best of friends with Rhaena despite Rhaenyra feeling possessive of you leaving her side.
This is all necessary to keep strong connections with the Velaryons, knowing very well that Rhaenys and Corlys know that you and your siblings are not their son's children
You even wore House Velaryons color at all times to please them and it worked very well.
Rhaenys and Corlys even requested to stay with them at Driftmark but Daemon and Rhaenyra rejected the idea.
Strangely enough Queen Alicent and your grandsire request the same thing, but of course, they got the same reply.
Rhaenyra felt threatened by the idea of you leaving her side and wed you to Jace earlier then expected.
Rhaenyra sensed your nervousness at the wedding and hugged you in assurance.
"Don't worry, I will be with you every step of the way, my sweet girl"
She didn't know that you remembered yours and Robb's wedding.
Daemon and Rhaenyra agreed to have the wedding on Dragonstone in the old valyrian custom.
They didn't invite anyone except the family members on Dragonstone.
Viserys was disappointed but not more angry then Alicent who found offense.
It's not like she invited Rhaenyra to Aegon and Helaena's wedding anyways.
Or maybe she did, but your mother didn't want you anywhere near the Hightowers.
Rhaenys also held grudge against Rhaenyra for doing such a thing, meanwhile Corlys was furious as he wished for the wedding to be on Driftmark.
Aemond felt heartbroken and stopped writing to you while Aegon drank away his pain.
Meanwhile Luke felt a bit jealous as he kind of had a crush on you, and your other younger siblings just enjoyed the celebrations.
Daemon encouraged Jace to impregnate you and ignore Rhaenyra's advice against having babies early.
And when you announce your pregnancy, Rhaenyra became so fearful for your life.
Especially when she saw how weak you were during the pregnancy.
You reminded her of her mother, Aemma.
Her paronia reflected on Jacaerys and Lucerys, thinking that you might not make it.
Meanwhile, in reality, you weren't ill, you were sad, because you wished for Cersei to be here.
Despite what she did to your previous husband, but still, Cersei loved you and this was clear.
On your fifth month, Rhaenyra announces that she is also pregnant just so she can support you and ease your worries.
You and Jace already chose the names for the babies, if it was a boy he will be named Aenar, and if it's a girl, then she will name Aemma.
Luke and Joffrey chose the perfect egg for the baby from your dragon's clutch.
Baela would read you stories as to pass time while you stay in bed.
When you want into labour, the whole castle went in chaos to ensure you have a safe delivery.
Daemon threatened the maesters that if anything happens to you, he will feed them to Caraxes.
Jace was on his way to support you during labour, but when he arrived, you were already holding his daughter.
Everything was going on well, with your new small family.
Until your grandsire, Corlys fell ill, and Vaemond decided to question the legitimacy of you and your full brothers.
Part 3>>>
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asumi2020202 · 4 months ago
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You and I.. We were Born to Die
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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Summary: Princess Y/n, The Foreseer and Princess Rhaenys, The Queen who never was, were chosen to fly to Rook's Rest.
A/n: It's just a different ending than the one they actually presented in the show. I just wanted to write something for Aemond. Anyways, Thank you for reading!
Note:
Reader is Rhaenys' granddaughter.
Reader's dragon is Moonfyre The Nightdream. She was one of the last eggs of Balerion and Dreamfyre. She is only 9 years old during the Dance of the Dragons.
Reader can Foresee glimpses of the future.
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Cole and his army were marching towards Rook's Rest. The council was in distress in the absence of the Queen.
The lords argued with themselves and the Heir to the Throne. Pointing out their views on the matter. Y/n stood beside her brother and Princess Rhaenys.
The council's bickering halted as the Queen suddenly walked in.
Jacaerys, your brother, looked very dissatisfied with your mother, the Queen. They argued as to who would go to Rook's Rest.
Your mother volunteered herself which made Jace rage up.
"Send me" Jacaerys said with confidence.
"No" Rhaenyra replied with a sarcastic laugh.
"I will go to Rook's Rest and wipe Cole's line and return-"
"You lack the experience." Rhaenyra stopped Jace's argument.
"You must send me. Meleys is the second largest dragon you have." Rhaenys intervened, to which Rhaenyra felt speechless.
Rhaenys gave Corlys a smile before leaving the room. A vision flashed before your eyes as your body stilled.
Meleys getting killed.
Rhaenys falling to her death.
There were..... two dragons.
One was Sunfyre you thought you saw... But you couldn't recognise the other.
Your mother's calling snapped you out of your vision. You looked panicked. Your mother and brother sensed something wrong.
"Y/n-" Jace reached for you before you said
"Send me as well"
"That cannot be done sweet girl." Rhaenyra said.
"It must be! Rhaenys- .... I saw her. And Meleys! They were ambushed. There were two dragons! Aegon will come! She cannot go alone! She Will Die!"
Rhaenyra looked shocked at your outburst. She pondered for a while before agreeing.
Moonfyre and Meleys were the largest dragons of the blacks. Rhaenyra trusted her daughter's judgement.
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As you walked to the Dragon Pit, you saw no one. No one dared to come closer to your child. They feared their lives.
Rhaenys had left early. You left an hour after she had left. You doubted if you could catch upto her. Meleys was the fastest dragon.
Moonfyre let out a groan as she flew through the clouds to Rook's Rest.
Your memories flashed before you. The first time you rode a dragon was with your father. It was Seasmoke.
"Kepa! Soo high! Hehe" little y/n threw her arms up in the air as Seasmoke flew through the clouds, huffing proudly.
"Yes. Do you like it? Being here atop the clouds?" Laenor asked his daughter who only giggled and said.
"Yes kepa" laenor smiled and said "If you like, we can fly on Seasmoke every now and then. Just don't tell your mother or i won't hear the end of it."
You smiled at the memory. Those times perished very quickly, right infront of your eyes.
You could only look ahead now, not behind. You may not even make it out alive today. But you'll die knowing that you tried.
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Meleys tackled Sunfyre in the sky as the roar of another dragon was heard. Larger wings taking off in the sky.
Vhagar had arrived.
"Thank the gods!" Aegon exclaimed before his face turned to horror upon realisation of what was to come.
"Dracarys!" Aemond said
"No! Noo!" Aegon screamed trying to take cover of his dragon. Meleys fled the moment Vhagar breathed fire.
Meleys was away from Vhagar and Sunfyre. Rhaenys felt no hope returning back home. She would fight. She would fight here and die. She closed her eyes and opened them slowly before saying
"Angōs Meleys.."
Meleys turned back to the fight, she gave a look to Rhaenys which she reciprocated. Rhaenys tightened her strap, and held tighter to the saddle.
Vhagar and Meleys were flying towards each other, when suddenly...
A loud roar could be heard...
Moonfyre came out of the clouds. Her size a close match to Vhagar.
She was one of the unhatched egg of Balerion and Dreamfyre before Balerion passed.
"Dracarys!"
All eyes went on the White dragon and her rider as she breathed fire. Vhagar flew away from the fire before she could collide with Meleys.
Rhaenys watched as Moonfyre the 9 year old dragon chased after Vhagar the 180 year old dragon. Both almost equal in size.
"Angōs Moonfyre!" Y/n shouted to her dragon.
Aemond looked back once. He didn't anticipate that another dragon, let alone the dragon of his once betrothed, would be coming to Rook's Rest.
He didn't turn away and flee. Vhagar turned back and charged towards the Nightdream.
The largest dragons collided with each other. Moonfyre clawed at Vhagar's wing as the Queen of the Dragons let out a loud wail.
Rhaenys got rid of any of the remaining green soldiers before joining Y/n in her battle.
Y/n grunted as Moonfyre flew away just in time to dodge Vhagar's attack.
Meleys came in and clawed at Vhagar's right wing. Tearing away some flesh from her wing.
Aemond, knowing he couldn't win and fled from Rook's Rest.
Yet amongst all, two were completely forgotten.....
Aegon the Usurper and Sunfyre the Golden....
Meleys told y/n that the last she saw them was when Sunfyre crashed near the woods.
Nodding at her grandmother's word, Y/n took off towards the direction of the woods along with Rhaenys.
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Moonfyre and Meleys were just a few feet away.
As you walked through the woods with Rhaenys, she drew out her sword for protection.
The two of you saw smoke coming out. Upon a closer look, the two of you saw Aegon and Sunfyre.
Aegon's body partly burned and bent. While Sunfyre's one wing was almost torn.
Rhaenys and you shared a look before deciding that you both would take Aegon back to Dragonstone.
Sunfyre was smaller than Moonfyre so she could carry the Gold dragon with her feet.
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"Your grace you must calm down-" Corlys tried to reason.
"How can I possibly calm down?! I don't know if my girl would return safely! I cannot lose another child!" Rhaenyra said, her voice raising.
All became silent....
A loud roar was heard. Rhaenyra and the rest ran outside. There they were...
Moonfyre and Meleys.
Rhaenyra squinted her eyes which widened when she saw what came with the dragon riders.
Moonfyre dropped Sunfyre's body a bit far before landing on the beach.
Y/n came down from Moonfyre as Rhaenys came down from Meleys, taking Aegon down with her.
Guards took Aegon's body away. He would be dealt with afterwards.
Rhaenyra ran and hugged her daughter. She offered Rhaenys a smile and thanked her for protecting her daughter.
Baela ran and hugged y/n as she hid her face in y/n's neck.
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When night came over Driftmark, you stood near the balcony. A letter in your right hand. You turned back to your trusted maid and gave her the letter.
She nodded and quickly left from to room. She was to deliver that letter to the one eyed prince or rather..... The Kinslayer..
You gently took the letter you had received from him that evening in your arms, reading it again.
You look up at the sky, closing your eyes as Moonfyre soared above the sky, your white hair flowing away from your face due to the wind.
The letter which you had received made you question everything. You do love that man even though he killed your brother..
Dear y/n,
I didn't expect to see you today. I realised after today that this war is neither yours nor mine to fight yet we both find ourselves tangled in it.
I wished for the throne because my brother is unfit for it. But I realise now that... I wish for you more. That I need you more than any throne, any power.
Aegon will die and so will the other Greens. I know that you would not believe me but I am willing to leave my grudges and be with you.
I need you not some Baratheon girl.
I have realised that you.. and i... We were born to die... together....
That was what the letter stated. You stilled as a vision flashed in your eyes.
Your little brother..... Was it Aegon or was it Viserys? Who ever it was.. looked quite grown up...
He was getting coronated....by Aemond..
You stood beside him, and on the opposite side stood Lord Cregan Stark...
You panted as your vision ended, eyes regaining their color.
Maybe everything was going to okay after the war ends.. You and Aemond lived.. your brother sat on the throne..you could only hope the rest of the family was okay.
You felt relieved a bit by the vision, thinking about the letter you had sent.
It stated that he must accept Rhaenyra as the queen and pledge loyalty to her. If he doesn't, there isn't any thing you can do. He already took your brother, your mother won't let go of that easily but he could try.
The last line was one of the same lines he wrote to you.....
"You and I .... We were born to Die...."
-Lillian
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goldsbitch · 5 months ago
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Hello hello! I am still absolutely obsessed with the "Fire" fic you wrote. You are such a talented writer omg, the storytelling, the humour, everything!
So I thought, I have an idea for a funny fic and I'm just gonna send it in LOL I remember Lando saying in an interview that he's really scared when he's the passenger. So what if his GF is speeding all the time and Lando is just internally freaking out and sweating while trying to keep his cool next to her?
Just an idea, if you don't wanna write it that's fine too (:
omg omg omg thank you so much! i'm blushing and i'm scared - hopefully you'll like this one! i added a detail that might be little over the top - but who knows? not me anymore.
I'll drive
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"You have a car?!" Lando uttered, forgetting any table manners, the food he had been chewing nearly falling out of his mouth.
Y/N was dead silent, the look on her face strongly resembling a child who lied about cleaning their room and just blushed every toy under their bed.
Her boyfriend gave her a cheeky questioning look, and when it finally set in - the fact she had been hiding the existence of her car from him - he was truly stunned and somewhat amused.
"So, wait. You know how to drive?! Why am I always taking you places?" he asked rhetorically, never actually being bothered by that, but still.
"I don't know how to drive-" she tried before getting interrupted by her father.
"Of course she does, I taught her myself," the jolly man said and patted her on her back with a proud smile. Y/N's face got washed with crocked smile, as if she swallowed something truly detestable.
"No, I do not know how to drive-"
"Nonsense, she's alway been so hard on herself," he father continued. Y/N just sighed.
The young couple came to visit her hometown for the first time. It was lot of reminescing of old times and her school days - a context that Lando very much appreaciated. He had met her as a grown up woman, but that weekend, he witnessed many amusing moments and heard lots of stories that only childhood small towns hold. What did he love the most about this experience? The fact there was nothing for her to do to stop it, no matter how much she frowned. Influx of surprising moments, but this discovery topping all of them.
She saw Lando's perplexed face and tried to save the situation. "I never lied to you, technically you never asked...I just figured you like driving so much, why bother, especially if I am so bad at it..."
Lando was not having it. "Oh, you're not getting easily out of this one," he replied, biting his lower lip, actively having to remind himself of the fact her family was right there. There was something innately attractive about her being so raw and pushed into a corner. Just pure cuteness. "I'm sure you're not half as bad as majority of the people out there," he said, new plans forming in his head. "I think you and I should take her for a spin," he said, referring to the car, and hid his smile behind a glass. Her eyes were piercing his with an energy so intense, it was electrifying.
"No, Lando, I am not driving while you're in the same car," she stated firmly, not breaking the eye contact.
"Come one, sweetheart, it'll be fun," he said, honey dripping out of his mouth.
"It will be anything but that," she said, but Lando ignored that, turning into her father for more information.
"So what kind of a car it?"
The rest of the conversation continued in description of a car Y/N herself could only describe as red, her father telling a story about how he got it for his daughter and how she actually barely ever drove it, which apparently broke his heart.
//
Let's not forget, this was Lando - of course he had ulterior motives. While it was great, spending few wholesome days in the company of his girlfriends family, his frustration grew, because for some reason, she refused to have any intimate activities in her family's house. Why, he had no idea. But of course, he respected that.
She never mentioned anything about not having some nice outdoor sex in a car. He wanted to see her drive and also ride. His perfect afternoon.
Lando is not the best of passengers, often uneasy about the common mistakes casual drivers made. Taking over the wheel is a natural thing for him to do. But, this was an exception he was excited to make - how bad could it be, right? He learned the hard way not to ask that question again.
//
"You sure you don't want to switch places?" she asked, once again, doing everything she could to get out of this.
"Nope babe, passenger seat is the vibe for me today," he smirked, making himself overly comfortable sitting next to her.
She raised her eyebrows. "Here goes nothing, I guess," she murmured and put the keys into ignition.
Lando found it amusing, seeing her so hyper-focused, as if she was launching a rocket ship. To be fair, it was a manual car - so it was close.
Three deep breaths - I fucking hate this, she thought, turned the key and released the clutch. When the car immediately jumped, Lando regretted sitting in his usual obscure way, his head hitting the door with quite a loud bump.
"Told ya," she said and started the car again. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't possibly sell her mistake as an intention.
"You released the clutch too soon," he said while assessing the bump forming on his head.
"Do not give me advice when I drive, makes me angry," she announced and this time actually managed to start the car in a semi-ok way.
Lando watched his bubbly, happy-go-lucky, girlfriend turn into a monster and there was nothing for him to do to stop it.
Everything was somewhat fine when they were still on the quiet roads surrounding her neighborhood. She stopped on the way to the main road, watching two cars that were comically far away and letting them pass. They didn't have to say anything, both knew what the other one was thinking. Y/N knew there was plenty of time for her to join the road before those cars, but the lack of trust in her own abilities was making her wait stubbornly. Lando watched the scenery, amused and starting to understand that in this relationship, his place as the driver was more than secure. She didn't want to be in this position, in fact she was increasingly more mad, that Lando and her father teamed up on her. But since she was where fate got her, she was absolutely not accepting Lando smirking at her.
"I know what you think, we have plenty of time, so I will not be doing some stupid moves to get us both killed," she said and gripped the steering wheel even more.
To prove his point, Lando leaned over her and squirted his eyes and watched the slowly approaching cars. He gave her a sarcastic nod. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said, putting his hands in defense.
"You better be, otherwise I'll just yeet us into the ditch."
"Feisty..."
And that was when the line got crossed.
"Fine!" she said, having no control over her emotions, and pressed the gas with new found energy. She turned, almost into a drift, and joined the main road, nearly having the two cars crash into her.
Lando gripped the handle, not expecting her to speed so much. His eyes went wide with realizations - she was the kind of driver operating on emotions. Had this been a racing track and an F1 car, he'd be having more fun, knowing the cars were epitome of safety. He was not so sure about this vehicle.
She had the "Tsunoda" energy and absolute lack of skill to go about it. Weaving, wrong gear almost constantly and not bothered by the sound her car was making.
"You're driving quite close to the lane, baby," he commented, getting more and more worried about their safety.
"Shut up, don't be all smart about it," she said, lips locked in a line. She was focused - not that it helped.
Another hard turn where she missed the right moment to go into it. Lando took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to stay calm.
After few hundred metres, he couldn't take it again.
"I think you're way over the speeding limit," he mentioned.
"That's not what this says," he nodded to her speedometer. Lando leaned over and had to laugh.
"Yeah, that's definitely not correct. Honey, I'm sorry, but the lane - you are too close to it," he said in the calmest tone he could gather.
"My brain does not work like that, I see it more in an abstract way..."
His eyes nearly popped out. "You see the road in an abstract way? Oh dear god."
She sighed, not understanding what was the big deal was. "No like, it's a concept. It's not real, if there is nobody on the road, you can be anywhere."
"I'm pretty sure that's not the case, sweetheart," he said and thought for himself that it could be the case if she knew how to drive, but not like that. "Change the gear, you're burning your clutch."
She slapped the steering wheel. "I. Do not. Accept. Advice. At the moment. Thank you!" she said slowly before going on a rampage. "We both know you're exceptionally good at this, it was your idea, I tried to stop you, so now face the situation and do not tell me what to do because I might panic even more!"
"Ok, ok, calm down," he said, putting his hands up in defense and turning his head away to avoid watching her inventing a new way how to turn the steering wheel.
This sent her over the edge, truly giving up on any rules. She was mad, scared, uncomfortable and kind of hungry to be honest.
Lando stayed silent, worried for his life, regretting his decision and making a mental note to listen to her if she says she can't do something - if they survive this.
A huge bump and a loud noise. She barely managed to keep the car on the road.
"What is that?" she screamed, not knowing what to do.
"Front left tire puncture, retire the car! I mean, shit, stop, over there," he gestured, to the sideline of the road.
//
"Ok, so what now?" she said once it seemed like a decent amount of time for him to stop observing the wheel.
"It's just the tire, I'm sure you've got a spare at the back, right?" he asked and like the gentleman he was, got up and looked in the back for a replacement. When he got it out, he proudly put it in front of her, considering his part of the job done. She stared at him, not moving. "There you go," he said, encouraging her. "They taught you how to do this at driving school."
"Um, yeah. I missed that lesson. Can you do it?"
"How could you miss that lesson?" he asked in desperation. Both of them stood there, waiting for the other to take the lead. It was very unusual for Y/N to see him this passive around a car. "Come on, you must have had a question about this on your test," he pleaded.
And then it clicked. "Lando?" she asked, having a very strange feeling about his behavior. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
He stayed silent, pretending to ignore her question. Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you don't know how to change a tire?!" she asked once again, unable to believe that could even be the case. "Isn't that like half of your job?"
"Well no, actually, my job is to drive. There is a whole team dedicated for changing my tires," he said matter-o-factly.
"You're a racing driver. Spend more time in a car than in a bed. And you don't know how to change a tire," she stated and started to laugh. "That's so rich."
He let out a heavy sigh. "I've never actually done it myself. Plus these are normal tires, different system."
"Oh my god," she said, unable to process.
The way how much this whole thing has backfired had Lando stuck. He was suppose to be engaging in inappropriate activities with his girlfriend at this moment. In his understanding of that, it did not include getting his phone out and searching for an online tutorial for bloody tire change. But, there he was. Y/N was suddenly having so much fun, coming off a high that was the adrenaline her body produced during driving. She was free and driving was impossible now. Bliss. In her opinion, this was all Lando's fault - she told him she couldn't drive. Payback time - hopefully Oscar would pick up.
She was dialing her phone, while he was trying to understand how to go about this.
Yes, he picked up! "Hi, this is Y/N," she said in a very serious tone. "Who are you calling?" Lando mouthed, his biggest worry that she dialed up her father and he is now going to have a reputation until the end of time. "Help," she mouthed back silently.
"Hi Y/N," was Oscar's response, the driver being somewhat confused as to why she was calling him. "What's up?"
"Glad you ask. Me and my boyfriend got into a serious situation."
"You and Lando?"
Lando frowned. "Are you calling assistance? We don't need them..."
She ignored him."Yes, I was forced to drive-"
"He let you drive?"
"Forced-"
"What kind of assistance is it?" Lando asked, doubting the whole phone call.
Y/N continued without pausing. "And we managed to get a flat tire, which I don't know how to fix and to surprise of the whole universe, he can't fix as well."
There was only laughter on the other end of the call.
"Y/N, who are you calling?"
Y/N pretended not the hear Lando. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
Oscar was more than amused, knowing he just gained a wild card to use on Lando anytime he would want. "Yes, of course I do. Put me on Facetime with him."
Y/N smirked at her boyfriend, who was still confused and with sparkles in her eyes handed him her phone.
"Oscar says hi!"
Lando blinked, several times. "What? No!...Shit. Hey Oscar," he waved at his teammate awkwardly.
"I have been summoned," Oscar announced, finding this all very amusing.
"Yes," Lando replied, defeated.
Oscar did not wait and took the situation in charge. "First step to do is make yourself seen, guys. You got a triangle?"
"Where's the bloody bucket hat when you need it the most..." Y/N mumbled, having Lando roll his eyes in reaction.
"I'll go and find it and you guys figure this out, ok?" she said handing over the phone to Lando and giving him a little peck on the cheek.
"I hate you," he said with a smile.
"I hate you more," she replied and skipped over to the trunk.
//
After series of creative curse words, one pair of ruined jeans and a celebratory high five, the pair stood once again in front of her car, staring at each other.
"I guess I'll drive us back," Lando decided loudly and waited for her approval.
"Agree. Let's not disturb the gods anymore. You're such a bad passenger princess anyway."
The past hour was filled with lot of conflicting emotions, but the only one that stayed was the love the two shared just by looking at each other.
"I'm sorry I forced you into this," Lando apologized softly. "It was not fair. I see that now."
Her lips turned into a weak smile. "Thank you. And sorry for calling Oscar. I'm sure he won't let you forget this."
He saw right through her. "No, you're not sorry about that - I can see the devil in your eyes."
She bit her tongue. "Yup."
It was hard for Lando not to kiss her in that moment. It was impossible for her to resist.
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jezabelle9299 · 3 months ago
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Read My Diary S.R x FEM! Reader
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Overture- Spencer comes home to you sitting on the floor mid-closet cleanout reading a book he's never seen before. Also I only wrote one entry because I could not for the life of me think of another one.
C-W's- Kissing, yearning, general pining. And one use of Y/N
A/N- I wrote this on a whim to get my mind off a job interview tomorrow so if you hate it please don't tell me!
March 23- Spencer was so sweet today. He read over my shoulder, and all I could think about was how stupid happy he makes me. And yet– we aren’t together. Penelope thinks he likes me,  and I really wish I could believe her, but he doesn’t see me that way. No matter how much I want him to.
But now of course, you were together. And he was still making you stupid happy, and Penelope was right as always. So you giggled to yourself as you read through the rest of the entries. You, pining for Spencer, the excitement of your first date, until just about the first time you said ‘I love you’ and you stopped writing. Anything you wanted to say you could just tell him, you didn’t have to write it down anymore. 
“What are you reading…on the floor?” You looked up and couldn’t believe you didn’t hear the door open. You knew he was coming home, so you were just trying to bide time by cleaning out your closet. You got distracted by an old diary you hadn’t written in for months and ended up settled on the floor of your bedroom. 
Spencer was confused, both by the fact that you were on the floor, and by the fact you were surrounded by old clothes you hardly ever wore, reading a book he’d never seen before. And even more curious at what had gotten you so wrapped up you apparently didn’t hear him come in. Whenever you got that into a book, you always told him about it. Every detail of what you liked about it, and he’d listen to every word. But instead of lighting up and telling him everything, you got sheepish and replied with a sing-songy “Nothing”. He gave you a skeptical look, but left it at that. 
He set his things down to join you on the floor, reading over your shoulder like he always does. What was once an excuse to get close to you, looking at case files together, became a show of just how much he loves you. But when he kissed you on the cheek and you looked down, realizing what he was about to read, all rational thought was out the window. On instinct you threw the book through the open doorway and halfway down the hall, and because that wasn’t enough you even screamed “No!”
Spencer just shifted to look at your face from his position behind you, trying to figure out what that outburst was. “Would you like to tell me what that was about?” But instead of answering the question, you just turned around, propping yourself up and putting your knees on either side of his legs before settling into his lap. Of course, because you loved to be close to your amazing boyfriend, but also to essentially anchor him to the floor. 
“So babe–” You put your arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek to hopefully distract him. “Wanna go for a walk? Ooo! Or we could go to the movies!! You love the movies.” He laughed, but you knew you hadn’t gotten away with it. 
“I do love the movies, but I think I’d love even more if you told me why you’re so upset because of the idea of me reading that. You don’t have to tell me what it is, or let me read it of course. But what made you so upset that you had to throw it?”
It would be so much easier to lie to him if he was a worse boyfriend. But no, he had to be one of the most sweet, intelligent, caring people you knew. 
“Spencer, you know I don’t keep secrets from you. It’s not that, but–” You let out a melodramatic sigh as you buried your face in his shoulder. “If you read that you’ll think I’m so insanely, remarkably, dorky you’ll never want to go out with me again.” It was all he could do not to laugh. You were embarrassed, but you were also being completely ridiculous. The idea that anything on this Earth could make him love you less was laughable. And the idea that you would be too dorky for him? Of all people? Utterly insane. 
“Hey Y/N? Darling? Love of my life? Have you realized who you’re talking to? I love you more than anything, and the idea that you could be too dorky for me is as adorable as it is absurd.” 
“It’s an old diary… there’s– there’s yearning. For you specifically, and you’ll think I’m crazy and weird.” He laughed into your shoulder, and distracted you by kissing from your shoulder to your collarbone, before gently pulling you from his lap to set you down next to him. Then while you still had your eyes closed, he got up. He got up, and ran to go read the thing that you thought could ever make him love you any less. 
He opened up to a random page near the beginning and there it was. Everything that he thought you’d never noticed before you started dating, laid out on the page. Things he couldn’t stand about himself, you talked about with love before he’d even gotten the courage to ask you out. You thought that he didn’t like you back, and he wished he’d written down his feelings so that you could read about how he loved you before he could even think of telling you. He knew no matter how many times he told you, you’d never realize just how deeply you were ingrained in his very soul. 
And by the time he decided he was done reading, clearing half of the pages in just a few minutes, you had gotten on the bed, and buried your face –along with your shame– in the pillows. He gently rubbed your back to let you know he was done. “Hey honey? Do you want to come out of the pillows now?” And you just shook your head, not quite ready to face him yet.
“Ok, stay in there as long as you like, but for the record I would love to see your beautiful face. Now I’ve only read a bit of this, but I can say with 100% certainty that I don’t think you are weird, crazy, or dorky. I love you and I don’t love you any less because you loved me while I was too stupid and insecure to ask you out.” That finally got you to sit up and look at him. He didn’t freak out, or run, or decide that you were so totally lame that he could no longer be with you. 
“I love you too”
“Hey look at that, she’s back.” And he moved your hair behind your shoulder so that he could see your face. 
“No you tricked me with affection, you don’t get to tease me yet.” 
“You’re right. And for the record– I wish that I’d written down my feelings for you so that you could see how much I’ve always loved you.” He kissed all over your face, quick pecks to show you how much he meant what he was saying. 
“Well I’ll just have to see what secret shames are in the back of your closet, and we can call it even.” 
“Deal.”  
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wosofutbolfan · 4 months ago
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When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?
Songfic
WC: 17k. Check TW inside.
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TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.
Hi Guys.
This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.
I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.
If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.
Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.
Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.
This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.
My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart
It was raining on the day that you met her.
That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.
You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.
You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.
That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.
Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.
You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 
Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 
The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.
You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.
“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.
Well. Turns out dads are clever.
Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.
“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”
The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.
She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.
You didn't know what to do.
You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.
The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 
You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.
Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.
Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 
Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 
No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 
You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 
One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 
His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 
He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 
You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 
He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 
Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 
“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 
Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 
You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 
Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 
She was banned from playing.
The team lost. 
Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 
She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 
You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  
It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.
Your Alex. 
You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.
Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.
“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”
Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.
“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.
“Mi and y/f/n…”
Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 
Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 
Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 
Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.
And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.
You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.
You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.
It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.
Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.
No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 
You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 
You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”
Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.
“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.
A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.
“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”
Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.
It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.
That was weird.
You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.
She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.
Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.
She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.
Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 
“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 
“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.
As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 
You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 
Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be
You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 
She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.
You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.
Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.
You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.
This was perfect.
It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.
You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.
It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.
She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.
“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.
“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.
“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”
“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.
“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”
“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.
You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 
Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 
Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 
You didn’t care. 
You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.
And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me
You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 
You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.
The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.
As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”
You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.
It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.
It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.
“I love you.” 
And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 
So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"
It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 
You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 
She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 
Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.
“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.
“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.
“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.
“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 
“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.
And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 
Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 
You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 
The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 
You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 
Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.
“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 
Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.
Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me
You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 
“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.
She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 
She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 
“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 
“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 
She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.
You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 
You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.
A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”
“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.
“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 
You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 
She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 
You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 
You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 
She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 
The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 
One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 
You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 
You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me
“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 
You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 
You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 
Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.
It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 
In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 
You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 
She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.
“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”
And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.
Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.
“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 
“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.
The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’
She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.
God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.
It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?
She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.
His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.
Weeks passed.
She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.
Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.
She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.
She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.
And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.
A ghost of the woman she was. 
Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 
Finally, Word you were alive. 
3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”
675 notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 11 months ago
Note
could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?
something special
<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining
"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.
"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."
about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.
you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.
when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.
"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"
"since always." jack grinned proudly.
"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"
"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.
a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.
"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"
jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."
"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.
"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."
there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.
"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."
"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.
just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.
in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.
it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.
again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.
"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."
aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.
jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"
"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."
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sturnsdarling · 3 months ago
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lets just stay here for a while
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{part two of 'I get them too, sometimes' } anxious!reader has an anxiety attack so bff!matt kisses her to calm her down, after, they agree to not go back to the party and just hang out with each other for a while.
vibe check: fluff, maybe suggestive if you squint, MAKEOUT SESH oioioioioi, just cute vibes all round honestly
1.6k words
A/N: slightly obsessed with this vibe dude. i'm really into writing fluffy stuff atm, I do have some smut in the works but as of rn this is the vibe I'm on. I hope this comforts you guys as much as it does me hehe
love and cigs, merc
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"d'you - do you wanna hang out in here for a bit? I can stay with you" Matt said, his eye contact wavering at the offer only to return to you once more.
"oh you don't - you don't have to do that, Matt, you'll miss your party" you shook your head.
"I don't really like parties anyway" he replied, "I'd honestly rather sit here with you on the floor all night" he chuckled, gesturing to the floor.
You smiled as a soft laugh left your nose, "okay" you said.
"yeah?" his head shot up to meet your gaze.
"yeah." you nodded
Matt opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as quick, a boyish grin crawling its way onto his face. You cant help but smile back, the thumping sounds of the music just on the other side of the door suddenly becoming a muffled hum as you stared at Matt.
His presence had always been a strange comfort to you, more so than any of your other friends. There was something about him, you just knew he got it, whatever it was and there was never any pressure to be anything other than yourself around him.
"so, um" You both began to speak at the same time, cutting yourselves off with a laugh and a raised hand.
"you go" He said, a soft smile still lingering on his lips
"can I ask you something?" you said, biting your cheek slightly.
"anything" Matt replied, almost instantly
"how many girls have you kissed to stop their anxiety attacks?" you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood from earlier.
Matt laughs, dropping his head and shaking it slightly, peering up at you from under his lashes, "none" he smiles, "well, other than you now, obviously"
a genuine laugh left your lips, you brought your legs into you, an uncontrollable smile etched across your face as you looked at him, "well, I guess I should feel privileged then"
"oh, definitely" Matt nodded, brows furrowed in jesting seriousness, "I don't just go around kissing any and everyone having breathing problems, you know" he added, trying to maintain his serious face but failing.
you chuckled again, "I should hope so, that would be very invasive" you couldn't help but laugh at the mental image
"yeah, I'd probably get in a lot of trouble" Matt said, laughing as he spoke, "good thing - uh, good thing it's just you, huh?" He said.
your heart dropped slightly and you weren't sure why, something about the 'just you' stinging slightly, your face dropped into a slight smile and you nodded, biting your cheek, "yeah, I suppose that is a good thing" your eyes met the floor.
Matt noticed your change in demeanour and immediately started kicking himself, why did he say that? what did that even mean? what did he even want that to mean? a silence filled the room, the only sound being the echoing music of Chris' party playlist in the back, some generic rap song you didn't like that much started playing and, in unison, you and Matt groaned.
"god I fuckin' hate this song" Matt rolled his eyes.
"me too" you chuckled.
"for once I wish we could have a party like this with my music, I'd have such a better time"
"we could -um, we could listen to music, if you want to" you said, shrugging
"yeah? I mean, yeah, let's do that" Matt said, nodding and getting up, riffling through his drawers for an old pair of wired headphones for you both to share.
He found them and came and sat down next to you again, this time, his back rested against the bed as he pulled his phone from his pocket and plugged in the headphones. Matt placed a bud in his ear and held the other one out to you. You shuffled up next to him, your back against the end of the bed as you placed the bud in your ear. Matt looked through his playlist, trying to find the perfect song, you lazily gazed over his screen, watching all the songs fly by as he raced through his playlists.
"oh, I love that song" you said, pointing at the screen
"Dominic Fike?" Matt asked, looking at you, "didn't I show you his stuff?"
"mhm" you nodded, "I like him, he's cool"
Matt simply smiled, looking back to his phone and pressing the song. 'Wurli' by Dominic Fike started playing and after a moment, Matt put his phone down between the two of you and rested his head back onto the end of the bed. You did the same, letting the corner of the bed act as a rest for your neck.
Matts hand was rested by his phone, and without thinking, yours met his on the floor, your knuckles brushing against each other slightly as they rested next to each other. Your fingers twitched against his, every touch felt like static through your body, the subtle intimacy of it making you feel giddy. Matts hand edged closer to yours, his fingers now resting on your palm slightly as he traced small circles on your skin. You shifted your hand slightly, moving it down to meet his, your fingers interlocking on reflex.
Matt closes his eyes with a smile, and you did the same, you felt like teenagers, holding hands for the first time. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed over yours and his touch made you feel completely content.
"Matt" you craned your head to the side, looking at him.
"hm?" he hummed, mimicking your actions and turning so his face was only inches from yours, his breath hitching slightly at the feeling of his nose nearly brushing yours.
"thankyou, for staying with me" you smiled, eyes pouring into his
His brows furrowed slightly as he stared back, unable to pull his eyes form yours, "of course" he smiled
"you um-" you paused, letting your eyes flit to his lips for a split second before returning to his eyes, "you're a really good friend"
Matt chuckled, not realising how close you had both gotten, your noses now touching as your eyes wondered back to his lips, "well, you know what they say" his words coming out in a near whisper
"what do they say?" you asked, your volume matching his, your lips a now breath from his.
"they, um - you know" his eyes were rapid between your eyes and lips, feeling the warmth of your words on his skin, "I have no idea" he admitted, before pulling his hand from yours, placing it on your cheek and pulling you into him.
Your lips were pressed against his, this time, in a much more desperate way. You pulled at his shoulder, dragging him into you impossibly close as his tongue brushed against your lips, asking for access that you granted him immediately. Your tongues brushed against one-anothers, your hands grapsing at each other as if you were trying to crawl into each others skin. The song was still playing, nearly at an end as you were pulled deeper into Matt.
As he kissed you feverishly, you shifted, hooking your leg up to hoik yourself onto his lap. You straddled him, his hands finding your waist immediately as both of you refused to break the kiss. Your lips moved against one-anothers in sync, as if you were created for eachother, created to kiss like this. His hands moved up your back, making you arch into him as you whimpered slightly into the kiss. Neither of you had come up for air, and the song had restarted, you were completely lost in it, blissfully unaware of the approaching sound of Chris calling Matts name outside of the room.
"Matt, what the fuck are y-" Chris said, swinging the door open and cutting himself short as he laid eyes on the vision in front of him
You and Matt instantly pulled away from each other breathlessly as your attentions shot to the door.
Chris' mouth was hanging open in a smirk, "sorry, kid, as you were" Chris through his hands up in surrender, turning his back and closing the door behind him with a chuckle.
You and Matt both sighed, laughing slightly as Matts grip on you loosened, and your forehead fell to his. You shook your head against his slightly.
"we should probably go back out" you whispered, pulling away from Matt and resting your hand on his shoulder.
"yeah" Matts shoulders dropped, "we probably should" he nodded, his gaze on your hips as he pressed his thumbs into the tops of your thighs.
"or" you said in an insinuating tone.
"or?" Matts eyes shot to yours, a grin spread across your face, "or is good, I like or" Matt said rapidly, eyes flitting between yours and your plump lips.
"we could just stay in here" you shrugged, moving your lips to hover over his.
"that, is an amazing idea, angel" he smiled, pulling you into him with a large hand spread across the small of your back.
Once again, your lips were moving against his. The song still playing on a loop in your headphones as you kissed each other desperately, your hips moving against his as your straddled him. You felt almost lightheaded as Matt kissed you like he was starved of you, pulling you into him as if he had been waiting to kiss you, to have you like this, his entire life.
Just outside the door in the kitchen, Chris searched around the sea of people for Nick, who was at the table with a group of people talking about something Chris didn't care about. Chris placed a hand on Nicks shoulder, getting his attention before leaning down and whispering in his ear, a smile growing on Nicks face as Chris spoke.
"finally" Nick said, looking up at Chris who was nodding his head in agreeance.
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taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10
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yzzart · 11 months ago
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hello, my love! how're you? I hope you're well
could you write one more compilation between tom and y/n? further detailing their relationship with the rest of the cast. I love seeing you include Rachel in your writing, and I'd love to see her recording, commenting and showing more tweets about y/n and tom!!
thank you very much for your generous and sweet attention ❤️☺️
"Definitely an old couple."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: your fans are obsessed with compilations of you and tom being an old married couple.
word count: 604!
notes: your request is an order, my sweet anon! and in the future i will post a request showing the tweets that Rachel shared with reader 😼!!
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"Our beautiful lovebirds." — The camera, which was recording a video, is pointed at you and Tom, who were sitting in your chairs and observing yourself in the mirror that had been placed by the makeup artists. — "I love calling them that." — She commented alone, then, laughing; until Tom put the peacekeeper helmet on your head, all the while laughing about how adorable he looked.
Quickly, he grabbed his cell phone that was on the table in front of him and took a photo; in fact, more than two photos. — Suddenly, the camera goes into frontal mode, showing Rachel's image.
"A cliché couple, i love them."
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"About the movie, i'm curious to know, in your opinion, what was the best thing about it?" — The interviewer asked, uncrossing her legs and waiting, attentively, for the answers.
"The best thing?" — A fake thoughtful frown formed on your face. — "I really think it was seeing blond Tom…?" — Tom hit your leg, laughing along with the interviewer; you tried to maintain a serious expression, conveying an air of confidence with your answer, a very complicated mission. — "Oh, and the worst thing was him returning to his natural color." — Your eyes swept over Tom, who continued to laugh, smiling listening to the sound of his laugh.
"That's not possible." — He recovered, running his hand through his coat, fixing it a little, and turning his head to the side, looking at you; his lips were still forming a mischievous smile. — "I remember you saying you're the number one fan of my natural hair." — Tom crossed his arms with a defiant look, and tilted his head.
"And i am, my dear." — Imitating his action, you also crossed your arms, teasing your boyfriend; Tom lightly pushed your arm and placed a hand on your thigh.
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"Oh, and Tom and Y/n're, like, Lenny's godparents." — Rachel fixed her headphones, removing some strands that were in her ears, turning her head to the interviewer and Tom. — "Sometimes i feel like he prefers them over me." — She joked, feigning a melancholic frown and forming a small pout.
"It's just that she and i are his favorites now." — Tom replied, earning laughs from the interviewer and Rachel.
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"And Y/n is the clear winner!" — Tom announced, clasping his hands together and looking at the camera, watching one of the producers, who worked behind the cameras, prepare to present the small prize. — "Can i dedicate a speech demonstrating my pride or is it too early?" — Rachel laughed, not believing his words and finding it funny, accompanied by Josh, with you making a gesture of reference. — "Please, honey."
"I don't know but i'll listen." — You replied, arranging a high-five with your boyfriend and noticing the presence of the little prize approaching. — "This is for me?" — Tilting your hand, you took the enchanting object and admired it; something that looked like a miniature Oscar, and was really adorable.
"When you're the best, you're the best." — Rachel and Josh spoke together.
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"And i think Y/n just arrived!" — The interviewer commented, tilting her head towards a small crowd that was forming at the beginning of the red carpet; and several flashes and some screams were witnessed by everyone at the scene.
"Oh, she's here." — Leaning his hands on the railing and moving away, Tom ran his eyes over the crowd; until, finally, he had the opportunity to see you and, automatically, an exuberant glow remained in his deep blue eyes. — You were so beautiful, always have been, he thought. — "Look at her." — His tone was low, but so admirable and enchanted. — "I need to ask her for an autograph."
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bbydeathclaw · 1 year ago
Text
Petulance
pairing: silco x fem!reader (nsfw)
AO3
summary: Silco sends you away to try to get some work done and you decide to be a horrendous little shit about it.
tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), good ol' mating press, teasing, bratty reader, simp silco
word count: 5.4k
adorably aesthetic mdni banner by @cafekitsune
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a/n: hello! this is my first time writing in a looong while almost 10 years to be exact please don't look at me. but I had to get back into it with this shamelessly self indulgent fic of my favorite brooding king pin. I hope you enjoy!
Silco had thought it a bit odd at first, the ease with which you’d taken your leave from his office tonight. Ordinarily when he’d attempt to send you away in favor of getting his paperwork done in a more timely manner, you’d put up some form of sulky little protest.
An overemphasized pout coupled with a look of feigned sadness, eyebrows furrowed together when you’d offer to assist him with said work. Your reason being that it would ‘probably get done faster’ between the two of you. 
A lie, and a blatant one at that. You were, on all counts, absolutely shit at keeping your focus on any tasks he’d try to give you. You knew it. He most certainly knew it. Truly he’d wonder why you’d even bother offering at all if you just spent most of the time trying to distract him anyway. 
Still, he can’t say he isn’t amused by your actions. He finds these juvenile acts of yours terribly endearing for the most part, and even starts to look forward to them, knowing full well that he'll give in to just about anything if you’d simply ask it of him. 
Which is why he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed when you don’t do any of this at all, and Silco starts to regret his idiotic suggestion entirely until you throw a cheeky smirk his way instead. 
“Alright, I think I’ll go bug Sevika for a bit.”
A single eyebrow quirk, followed by a low hum of approval. 
“I’m sure she’ll be positively thrilled by that,” he replies, suppressing a smirk of his own at the thought of his second in command being pestered by someone almost half her size. 
He’s still disheartened by your willingness to leave, but ultimately makes peace with it knowing that you’d more than likely return at some point. You give him a small wave with your fingers followed by a wink over your shoulder, and Silco doesn't hesitate to drag his gaze over your body shamelessly as it saunters out of his office.
About an hour passes, and the music coming from downstairs is just starting to pick up for the evening. You enter the room with a fluid sidestep, leaning back against the door once it closes behind you. His good brow raises slightly. “Back so soon?”
You don’t answer at first, instead making your way over to one of the tables in his office, like a cat quietly stalking about until something catches its interest. He watches you methodically as you settle for one of Jinx’s old trinkets that had been long discarded, carefully turning it over in your hand. “Sevika called me a menace.”
This time he makes no attempt to hide the subtle upturn from the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with her, my dear.”
“She seems pretty cranky tonight.” 
“Hm, surely through absolutely no fault of your own.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in what he can only assume is an attempt to stifle a giggle before turning to face him with an adorably giddy expression that makes his chest tighten. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
So innocent, as if you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Silco doesn’t answer you verbally, merely bringing his forehead to rest against his hand and lifting the piece of paper he’s holding in the air with the other. The sullen face you make doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you turn to put the gadget back down with an airy sigh.
“Well,” you drag the word out. “I guess I’d better let you get back to it.”  
“Yes, that would be nice,” he says in turn, though it comes off more teasing rather than the displeasure he’s trying to convey. 
You study his face for another beat or two before you finally respond. “Okay, if that’s really what you want.” It’s not. Not even in the slightest. “I’ll go see if Thieram needs any help at the bar.”
“My love, Theiram is more than capable of handling his responsibilities as a bartender alone. It’s why I hired him, in fact.” He pauses. “Have you perhaps considered staying up here and behaving yourself, rather than looking for more ways to wreak havoc amongst my employees?” 
For a moment Silco thinks that he may be tipping his hand too soon, fearing that you’ve caught on to the fact that he’s basically been doing fuck all except sitting here and waiting for you to come back to his office. His suspicion only rises with the way you’re tilting your head and downright beaming at him with ill-disguised glee, like you’d been reading his every thought. 
“If I stayed up here it certainly wouldn’t be to behave myself.”
The paper he’s holding makes an audible crunch sound, his hand crumpling the edge of it faintly in response to your suggestive remark. 
Before he has the chance to reply with some snarky comment, you’re already heading towards the door, making a show of swaying your hips and giving him another view of the delicious swell of your backside before you take your leave again. His chair makes an audible groan as he leans back against it and lets out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his hair and glancing down into his lap at the result of your seemingly endless torment.
Intolerable minx.
By the third time you make your way back up, only about half an hour has passed, and Silco’s all but given up on the prospects of getting any semblance of work done tonight. His thoughts being entirely permeated by you and the state you’d left him in. 
The Last Drop is in full swing now, and the liveliness of everything going on downstairs comes through the open door as you re-enter his office. However this time, he makes no effort to acknowledge your arrival, his chair now facing away from his desk, turned instead towards the large stained glass window that bathes him in a sickly, pale green light. All the noise from the club gets muffled when the door shuts once again, followed by the sound of purposeful footsteps making their way over to him.
“Welcome back,” he states flatly, trying to sound as disinterested as he can manage in his current predicament while he looks over his clipboard in a vain attempt at trying to salvage what was supposed to be a productive evening.
“Hello there, almighty Eye of Zaun,” you chime back with a playful lilt in your voice. “Did you miss me?”
Silco’s eyes tick upwards and stare blankly at the window straight ahead, actively suppressing the urge to let out another heavy sigh. You were going to be the death of him at this rate, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. How you managed to be both so insufferable and still so unbelievably charming he’ll never quite understand. Before he has the chance to turn his chair with an already fixed scowl, he hears a faint thud behind him, the distinct sound of glass meeting wood only slightly muted by a soft shuffling of papers. 
A few seconds pass before Silco finally spins around to face you, seeing that a tumbler has been set down right on top of the paperwork he had been ruminating over all night. He’s also greeted by the sight of you already sitting in a chair directly in front of his desk, grinning from ear to ear. His heart swells at the sight and his scowl gradually melts away, only to be replaced by something more along the lines of skepticism when he takes in your expression fully. 
Your smile is accompanied by what appears to be a look of pure satisfaction, though he has no clue as to why. His non-discolored eye narrows at you, like a parent trying to figure out what misdeed their child has committed behind their back. 
Silco regards you warily for another moment, taking in every minute detail of your face in hopes of detecting something that might give you away while he reaches for the glass set in front of him. Ice clinks against the sides as he swirls it around before bringing it to his lips, taking a long sip followed by a hum of appreciation. His eyes shoot back up to meet yours, and finds you now biting your lip while trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. 
You’re definitely up to something, that much he’s certain of now, and the fact that he still can’t figure out what it is causes his previously feigned discontent to turn into more of a bubbling frustration, having just about enough of whatever game you’re playing. A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he glances down at the drink now dangling from his fingertips, then back up to you. 
Silco knows you’ve taken in the brief look of suspicion on his face when you let out a laugh that, despite the visible displeasure he's exuding towards you, is still one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard.
“I didn’t poison you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you quip, clearly amused at the implication.
“At this point I would be grateful if you did.”
You laugh again, but it comes out more like a short exhale through your nose along with a relaxed grin, taking a sip of your own beverage, and Silco’s good eye narrows at you once again. 
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No.”
Silence.
“Then what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He practically glares at you for what feels like a considerable amount of time before it finally dawns on him that you haven’t left yet. 
“Did you need something darling? Or have you just come to find more ways to elicit whatever reaction you’ve been hoping for this evening?” Silco brings the tumbler to his mouth once more, letting it hover there momentarily in order to get the rest of his words out. “Because if the intended reaction was to see how far you can test my patience I can assure you-” 
Words die on his lips immediately when you make a move to stand, mismatched eyes shooting down to your waist to see what appears to be quite possibly the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you in, leaving so very little to the imagination.
He’s still holding the glass right up to his face while he watches you make your way around the only obstacle that separates the two of you before hopping onto one of the corners, your butt and thighs jiggling faintly when they make contact with the solid piece of furniture. “I just figured you could use a drink after such a long night of hard work. Is that so wrong?”
Silco tracks your movements with an almost predatory fixation, watching you lean back slightly to rest against your arms, crossing one leg over the other and he has to actively resist the urge to scoff. This thing is hardly covering anything, you’re essentially sitting there with your bare ass on his desk. The realization of that along with the sight of everything you’re showing has his cock hardening at an alarming rate.
You don’t seem to notice, or if you do you don’t say anything, eyebrows knitting together in a poorly disguised attempt at looking genuinely worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy to see me.” 
Silco sets the glass down onto his desk with a bit more force than intended, turning his chair to face all the way forward and bringing his mouth to rest against interlocked fingers. Any moment now he’s expecting you to hop right off that corner and make your way back downstairs, back to a place filled with depraved and perverted onlookers. 
Realistically he knows no harm would ever befall you while you were down in the Last Drop. All of his subordinates had been given clear instruction to keep a watchful eye on you at all times, and after a while a lot of them had started to do it less out of obligation and more so out of genuine care, especially Jinx and Sevika. 
Plus, he knows you can hold your own in a fight. Growing up in the undercity had hardened you just enough to make you a scrappy but formidable opponent. So logically speaking, Silco knows there's no safer place for you to be, but the thought of anyone other than himself seeing you in that, especially the less than respectable patrons that frequent his establishment nearly every night, makes his blood boil.
“Of course I'm happy to see you, my dear,” he retorts, turning his head to look over at you once more, eyes darting downwards to that indecent piece of fabric wrapped around your waist then back up to meet your gaze. “It's just that I'm seeing quite a lot of you at the moment, and if you go back downstairs, so will everyone else.” His last words come out strained as he shifts in his chair in a poor attempt to alleviate his growing erection.
“Oh, you mean my skirt? Is there…something wrong with it?” You lift your hips to take the tiniest of scoots towards him, and Silco’s eyes immediately hone in on the action. 
“Don’t be cheeky.”
Another scoot. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped, especially in this.”
At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if you really are trying to kill him, taking controlled and steady breaths while he attempts to suppress his growing ire in response to such a ridiculous question. Of course there’s something wrong with it. Silco’s sure he’d nearly be able to see the soft outline of your mound if you were to spread your legs, even in the slightest.
He lets out another deep breath before picking up his pen and casually scribbling his signature on one of the invoices strewn about in front of him. “You will not be going back down there like that.”
He’s not looking at you, but Silco can see the movements of you moving closer out of the corner of his unmarred eye.
“Are you..asking me to stay?” 
He doesn’t respond, instead electing to take another piece of paper to scrawl his name at the bottom offhandedly. He knows what you’re playing at, the fact that it took him so long to realize it irks him to no end. He wouldn’t mind answering honestly and just telling you that yes, he does want you to stay, but the thought of giving into your bratty little antics this evening doesn’t sit quite right with him. 
Which is why he makes the conscious decision to ignore you as you move close enough to where your upper leg is now narrowly brushing his elbow, the shift causing him to mess up the tail end of another signature. Silco chances a glance towards the movement and regrets it almost immediately when he takes in the soft curve of your thigh, his cock twitching painfully at the sight.
He makes his second mistake when he follows the tantalizing trail of your body upwards and is met with the most unabashed, shit eating grin plastered across your face. He has to force himself to look away, the hand not holding his pen coming up to drag his long fingers back and forth across his mouth as he contemplates the idea of sending you away all together, leaving you pouty and disappointed. And for a moment he comes close to doing just that, until he makes the grave error of risking a glance up at your face again.
You’re not smiling anymore, expression replaced by something far more lustful and serious. Silco simply stares as your tongue slides out to pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before gently nudging his elbow with your knee. He doesn’t hesitate in dropping his arm to offer you the space in front of him, and you slide over gracefully. He stays perfectly still while you plant a foot atop each of the armrests of his ornate chair, knees pressed tightly together.
He finally responds to your earlier question with one of his own. 
“What would possibly give you that idea?” His voice is light and teasing, all traces of anger gone. “You’ve been nothing short of a nightmare all evening, love. And now this?” Fingertips come up to stroke the side of your calf, humming appreciatively.  “What am I going to do with you?”
This earns Silco a wide, toothy grin as you scoot forward. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”
“Don't be coy with me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, breath fanning over your knees as he speaks. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” knees parting just barely, “to answer my question.”
Silco pushes his tongue against his cheek in minor annoyance before sliding both hands up your legs and over your knees, then back down until he reaches your hips. He grips firmly at the supple flesh and yanks you closer towards him, eliciting a sharp squeak followed by a string of giggles.
“I think you might be the most aggravating creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of courting.”
Your face adorns a look of mock appreciation. “Awe, thank you!”
Slender hands travel back up to your knees. “Truly just a tantalizing little menace.” He waits for you to part them further, granting him the access he’s so desperately craving. “One that I’m both drawn to and irritated by all at once.”
Your smile is nothing short of haughty, as if you’re truly taking everything he’s telling you as a compliment. “Well now you’ve really got me hot and bothered,” you shoot back, knees moving further away from each other until you’re spread all the way open for him.
Although spoken in a sarcastic tone, Silco sees that your words are in fact true, his eyes taking in the sight of your already dripping cunt.
“Indulge me, sweetheart,” he says, one hand coming up to trace the backs of your thighs with his knuckles, causing goosebumps to decorate your soft skin. “Why the need to be so difficult tonight?” 
You shiver at the touch, bottom lip still tucked between your teeth as he brings a thumb up to stroke lazily over your pussy. 
“J-just for fun,” you retort, but your voice doesn’t hold the same conviction. “Wanted to see..how long it would take.”
“How long what would take?”
The laugh you let out is shaky at best, but there’s still a bit of confidence left when you answer. “For you to ask me to stay.”
It only takes about half a second before Silco’s thumb pushes into your core and his tongue cards a long, hot stripe along your folds. The noise you make spurring him on further as his mouth envelopes your clit, giving it a harsh suck before pulling away with a satisfying wet plop sound.
“I don’t recall asking anything of the sort,” he chides, sliding his thumb back out. “If memory serves me correctly, you came into my office several times practically demanding my attention.”
Silco punctuates his last few words by pushing two fingers into you, pulling another sharp inhale from your lips as he turns his palm to face upward and curls them inside of you.
“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts, bringing his thumb to circle against your now swollen clit, drawing a long whine out of you as you work your hips against him. “..that perhaps I attempt to send you away in order to finish with my tasks quickly, just so I can get back to doting on you with said attention? Selfish little creature.”
Your eyebrows pinch together, speaking between shallow breaths. “You.. could have just.. said that.. you know.”
Silco smirks, watching you look back at him with a pair of pleading eyes. “And deny myself the pleasure of seeing your lovely pouts and open displays of petulance?” He adds a third finger. “I think not.” 
“Silco,” you whine, “please.”
His cock twitches in response, and he doesn’t waste any time bringing his mouth back down to your bud and swirling his tongue around it lavishly while his fingers twist and turn inside of you. He watches you throw your head back, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip the edge of the desk above your head, the other coming to latch onto the top of his head hard as you roll your hips against him. 
“There, that’s it,” he coos, “show me how eager you are. Use me.” 
This draws another string of small gasps and moans from you, coupled with lewd, wet, slurping sounds as Silco continues to lap and suck at your clit, bringing his free hand to grip your thigh and anchor you to him. The strain in his pants grows increasingly more painful when you sigh his name affectionately, followed by a noise of protest when he removes his fingers from you all together in an effort to tug at intricate buttons of his trousers, freeing his aching cock and palming himself to the sight of your ruined state. 
Your arousal coating his fingers serves as a welcome lubricant for him to stroke himself languidly, relishing in the feeling of you bucking up into him, using him to chase your own end. His licks are hot and thorough, leaving no part of your heat untouched.
“Yes,” Silco groans into you, “just like that.”  
Your other hand comes down to unbutton your top, cupping and squeezing at one of your breasts, and he knows you’re close by the way you’re begging and pleading above him. The sound of your voice feeds into his determination, letting go of his cock in order to wrap both arms around your thighs, securing you in place and devouring you like a starved man.
The way you cry out his name while your walls flutter around his tongue has him reeling, mismatched eyes boring into you, watching your orgasm in complete reverence as your fluids run down his chin.
“Good girl,” Silco sighs, his movements slowing down to let you ride out your climax. “You always make such sweet sounds for me.” 
Your legs tremble and the vicelike grasp you have on his hair loosens before you slump back down onto his desk, words barely managing to come through your short and labored breaths.
“Could've been making them a lot earlier if you’d…stop trying to kick me out.”
A hint of a smile creeps up on his face as he presses small, feather light kisses up the backs of your thighs, leaving glistening spots of your slick behind in their wake. “You know, it is possible to keep your unsolicited remarks to yourself every once in a while.”
Yours breaks into a devious grin that tugs at his heart without mercy. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 
“Mmm, point taken.” 
Silco stands to turn your body so that you’re taking up the full length of his desk before climbing up onto it and bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His length bobs thick and heavy with need, bringing it to rest against your slit.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
You roll your hips against him needily, coating his cock with your arousal. “Maybe.”
“You drive me absolutely mad,” he growls, voice dripping with carnal hunger as he pushes your legs up against your chest once again, lining himself up with your entrance. And it’s the way you're looking up at him with your lip tucked in between your teeth in anticipation, the slight inward curl of your eyebrows in an almost pleading expression that has him pushing into you in one, smooth buck forward, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside of you.
Silco sees your eyes roll back, and he has to physically stop himself from doing the same. He wants to see it all, wants to see your blissed out expression while he fucks you, wants to see all the different ways he can make you come undone beneath him.
You make a pitiful attempt at stifling a moan, one that ultimately fails when Silco starts to rock his hips against yours, pulling them back slowly and savoring the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls before driving them forward with a sharp, pointed thrust. But he’s right there with you, exhaling a throaty groan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him so deliciously, the sensation being nothing short of divine.
“Look at you, taking me so well,” he whispers, lowering his head and tilting it to place gentle kisses along your jawline before nipping at your earlobe. “Like we were made for each other.”
The breathy whine this elicits causes him to straighten himself upright again, picking up his pace steadily, and soon the room is filled with the obscene, wet smacking of skin against skin as Silco begins to pump into you with feral-like need. He readjusts your legs so that your calves are hooked over his shoulders, letting him fuck you so much deeper. 
You’re a mess of broken pleas beneath him, and he clings to every single one, a symphony meant solely for him and him alone. Silco watches you with wholly, unabashed devotion as your face twists and contorts in pleasure, pleasure that only he can bring you. And though he wants to feel like he’s still in control, he knows deep down he’s equally ruined by what you do to him, maybe even more so. His seafoam eye glazes over, and strands of hair fall loosely around his face as he ruts into you. 
You reach up and try to put your arms around his neck, but the position your legs are in only allow you to claw at his shoulders helplessly. “S-silco, please..”
“Oh? I see someone’s finally learned some manners,” he taunts.
The huff of annoyance you let out amuses him more than he’d care to admit, “For fuck’s sake, Sil. Let me hold you.”
“Demanding thing,” he scolds, but gives into your ‘request’ regardless, lowering your legs just enough so that your knees fall to the side and hook over his forearms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck with open urgency. And now you’re pulling him down and holding him there, like the waters he'd nearly drowned in.
Silco’s jaw goes slack as he turns his head and pants in your ear like some wild beast, whose sole purpose is to bring you to your end. Like it was all he was ever made for. Your head turns to meet his lips with your own, and he tries to keep some semblance of restraint while he kisses you, but he can’t, not with you. It’s hungry and sloppy, full of exceeding desperation. 
He breaks the kiss reluctantly to make his way down to your neck, lips and tongue moving against the delicate flesh and littering your throat with marks of all kinds, leaving no room for anyone to question who you belong to. “Mine,” Silco snarls possessively in between sucks and bites.
He's about to pull away when one of your hands slides up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and locking him in place, begging for more, more, more, and Silco’s more than happy to oblige. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger so tightly, and this realization both excites and ruins him as he begins to ram everything he has into you with new purpose.
“Oh fuck, Silco. Right there,” you cry out, voice becoming raspy and hoarse from your continuous gasps in between moans. 
"Yes, that's it. Show me how much you want this, how much you need this," he huffs out through gritted teeth, trying to establish some form of dominance once again, but it's no use when he realizes his words are just as applicable to him as they are to you.
He forgoes his hold on your legs, letting them fall to your sides briefly before wrapping them around his waist. Your eyes flutter shut and your head starts to loll to the side, but Silco grabs your jaw quickly and forces you to look directly at him.
“None of that, darling. I want you to look at me when you come undone,”  His breath comes out ragged and primal. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
You nod frantically in response, eyes drifting downward to stare at his mouth, like a silent plea. He takes the hint without delay, squishing your cheeks together until your lips form a small pout before leaning down to kiss you fervently. His tongue swirls around yours, hot and wanting, before he pulls away just enough for him to pant into your open mouth, his connecting to yours by the thinnest string of saliva. 
Silco can sense your second orgasm approaching rapidly, and he brings his fingers towards your lips. You take the hint right away, wrapping them around his digits and sucking on them lavishly. Once he’s satisfied enough, he removes them and snakes his hand down through your intertwined bodies, settling for the bundle of nerves located between your legs.
Your moans increase in pitch, arms and legs squeezing even tighter around him as he works you with skilled flicks of his wrist.
“You’ve endured this so well, my love,” he whispers against your ear, voice laced with unrestrained hedonism and resolve. “Let’s reward all that effort of yours tonight, shall we?”
His question is rhetorical, but you nod so eagerly for him nonetheless as your walls begin to pulsate, clenching so unbelievably tight around him you���re practically pushing his cock out, nearly sending him over the edge himself.  
“That’s my girl,” he sighs with heavy grit and worship. “You feel incredible.”  
Silco’s face comes back up to hover over yours, looking directly into your eyes while he fucks you through your climax, his own looming closer and closer. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your labored breaths greedily as his thrusts begin to stagger before coming to a complete halt, his pelvis flush against yours as his cock twitches obscenely within your heat. He lets out a harsh, guttural moan right into your mouth as he spills into you, your walls continuing to milk him with stuttered squeezes, and he has to pull away sharply to exhale a series of delirious gasps. 
Your chests heave against one another, waves of pleasure slowly dissipating as your sweat soaked bodies stay interlocked. Silco shifts slightly, bringing his hands to stroke the top of your head lazily with his fingertips. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he places soft, tender kisses along your cheeks, your eyes, your lips, anything within reach.
He’s rewarded with a giggle, followed by a dopey little grin.
“You know,” you say as your breaths finally return to normal. “I just remembered the other reason you try to send me away while you work.”
Silco already knows the answer, but you punctuate your words anyway by wiggling your ass, causing the sound of his paperwork shuffling beneath you, followed by a light yelp as he smacks your bottom lightly. 
“Impossible little wench,” he chastises, lifting himself off of you and being greeted once again by the sight of the thing you keep referring to as a ‘skirt’. He grabs the edge of it with his fingertips, holding it up like it was a cursed object. “Where in Janna’s name did you even get this from?”
You bark out a laugh before propping yourself up hastily to look down at it with pride. “Ran let me borrow it.”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Borrow it,” he repeats, “as in you have every intention of giving it back to them?”
You stare at him for a moment, no doubt mulling over your answer.
“...No?”
Silco smirks at your response before leaning in. “Good girl. Besides, I think we may find many more uses for it still.”
Your eyes widen with child-like wonder, but for the entirely wrong reason. “Oh, so you’ll wear it for me, too?”
He stares back at you blankly, blinking several times before rolling his eyes almost theatrically, earning him another small fit of laughter as he finally graces you with a response.
“Whatever pleases you, I suppose.” 
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anonymityisfunwriter · 7 months ago
Text
The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy
Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.
A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.
You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.
Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.
Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.
They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.
You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.
"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"
"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."
"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.
He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."
Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"
"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.
"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.
The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."
As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."
Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."
The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."
"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.
"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.
You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"
"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.
Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."
"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"
"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"
"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.
"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"
"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."
Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"
You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."
He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."
You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."
"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.
There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"
He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"
Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."
"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"
"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"
"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."
Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"
"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"
"You're incorrigible."
The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"
"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"
He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."
"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."
It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.
And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.
And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.
"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."
You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."
"Not to Bucky, you're not."
"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."
Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"
"That's your name, isn't it?"
He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.
You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."
You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."
He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"
You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."
That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"
You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."
He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."
"I don't."
His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"
"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."
He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."
You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."
"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"
You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"
He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."
"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"
"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"
"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"
The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."
"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."
He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"
You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."
"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."
"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."
"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."
"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."
"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."
You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.
And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.
Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.
For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."
A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."
You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.
You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.
Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.
You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.
Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.
And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.
Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"
"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"
"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."
Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"
"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"
Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"
"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"
You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"
"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."
"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."
You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."
"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.
You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.
Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.
So that's exactly what you were going to do.
Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."
You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.
In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."
He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"
You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"
"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.
You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."
"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."
His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"
"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.
You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"
"Of course. Anything for my girl."
You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.
The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.
He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.
He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.
And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.
Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"
Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."
"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."
"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."
"Where does she live again?"
Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."
Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."
He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.
Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"
His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"
"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."
"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.
Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."
"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.
It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.
You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."
"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."
An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."
"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.
"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."
"Any other tips?"
"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."
It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"
You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"Just relax. They'll love you."
As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.
Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.
Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."
"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."
She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."
"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.
"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."
"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."
Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."
As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.
As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.
"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"
"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."
As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.
"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."
"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."
"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."
"Mother," you sharply warn.
"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."
A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."
"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.
"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.
"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.
"In between courses."
"Courses?"
Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."
"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."
Your father snorts, "Really?"
You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."
"Any siblings?" your mother asks.
"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."
"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.
"Dad," you hiss.
Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."
Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."
"A man with a plan. I like that."
"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."
You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.
You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.
As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."
"You're welcome back anytime, James."
"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."
The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"
"He's a nice boy."
You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."
"You'll grow out of it."
Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"
"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."
"You don't know him."
"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."
You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"
"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"
You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."
You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.
The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.
He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.
This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.
Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."
"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."
"Bucky?"
He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."
"What?"
"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."
Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."
"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."
"Is that really what you thought last night was?"
"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."
"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."
"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."
You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"
"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"
"See what?" you demand.
"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"
"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."
His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."
"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."
"Do you mean that?"
"Every word."
"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"
You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."
"I'll quit," he immediately replies.
"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"
"That surprise you?"
"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.
He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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russellsppttemplates · 6 months ago
Text
No more of this (Lando Norris)
Lando is trying to stop the hurt of loosing you by getting ahead of it and (trying to) leave you first
Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ I took a bit of a gamble with this one, and I'm hoping it is still a good enough piece to read! This was from a request for which I had another idea whilst I was writing this one, so I might work on it if this truly is a bad take on it!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: relationship troubles, miscommunication, anxiety symptoms, alludes to the passing of a family member and consequent inheritances
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Lando wasn't sure how long he had been in the room on his own, but he knew he didn't have it in him to leave soon.
He thought he wasn't enough, he was too much trouble for anyone around him, that's why no one is there for him right now.
He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen to check if the texts he sent you had gone through, but the lack of an answer from your part was simply that.
Not even Y/N cares about him or what he needs. Maybe he didn't word it in the right away? Surely, Y/N would have replied by now if he had written it down properly and not appeared like a clingy, needy child. Maybe he could send another one, just to make sure it is all alright.
To lovie ✨️
I'm sorry if that was a lot, but I just wanted to know how your day had been! I love you, sweet girl 🧡
There, all better.
The McLaren driver waited for your answer, hoping to make ammends from his previous tries.
Maybe she's busy, she has so much on her plate as well. She can't take care of Lando too. Lando wonders what his girlfriend would do if she knew you felt like this. If she found him lying in a bed, unable to move and startled by the idea of facing the outside? She would leave him right then and there. Y/N can only take so much and she's not going to take this.
The tears that fell went unoticed until they pooled on the pillow cover fabric, wetting it and dampening Lando's cheek and jaw.
The weight on his chest lightened when his phone vibrated.
From lovie ✨️
I'm so sorry, Lan - my phone was on silent because of the meeting with the notary and I forgot to turn it back up 🤦‍♀️
It has been a busy couple of days with the signings and handovers, but I can already see the end of it!
And how was your day, bubs?
I miss you loads and can't wait to kiss your handsome face 🧡 I love you 💖
There it goes, that wasn't so bad, right? She replied - she's safe, she has a reason why and she wrote I love you. Maybe all of that fuss was for nothing.
Lando quickly typed back a reply, hitting the button to send after reading it a couple of times to ensure it was good.
To lovie ✨️
It's okay, sweet girl, you don't have to worry! It's been same old, had a training session with Jon and then worked on the sim.
Can't wait for you to be home soon, I love you so much ❤️
You replied, that was all he needed. Everything is back to normal, the heartbeat has slowed down, the weight on the chest had been lifted, and breathing wasn't so hard anymore.
For now, anyway.
The last two days had been fine, good even - Lando spent the afternoon playing padel with Max Verstappen, streaming with Quadrant and even played golf on his own, relief washing over him when, despite being on his own, his thoughts didn't take him to the dark side like he expected them to.
You had FaceTimed every night and exchanged texts in the morning so there hadn't been any reason to worry - until now anyway.
When Max and Pietra told you they were flying to Monaco to spend the week there, you decided to postpone leaving for two days and take the flight with them instead.
You'd have to have reached the realisation that Lando is not the best you can do. You couldn't possibly be that blind.
Y/N knows you're he's not good enough, she knows she deserves so much more and now that she has property back home and a safe ground, she'll leave him before he knows it.
It builds up again, his breathing short and laboured while his heart speeds up, his hands unconsciously retreating into themselves and making fists as his nails graze his palm.
You are going to leave him.
Not if Lando leaves you first.
"This isn't even the worst flight we've had", Max reasoned once you landed in Nice, "you're really feeling it, aren't you?", he nudged your shoulder.
"It's just been a busy couple of weeks", you sighed, looking for your luggage on the carrousel, "I'm so glad it's all dealt with now and I can finally be home again", you smil3d tiredly.
"You mean you can finally be with Lando again", Pietra teased you.
"Can you blame me, though? I miss him so much I'm not sure I can keep away from him for long once I hug him", you admitted, spotting the bright blue luggage on the conveyor belt.
"Lando just texted me saying he is by the informative screens", Max offered, grabbing his and Pietra's luggage and leaving the way out of the busy airport.
Once you spotted your boyfriend, you hastened your pace to approach him, leaving the luggage on the side so you could jump into his embrace.
"Hey, my love, I missed you so much", Lando held you impossibly tight to him, nipping on the skin of your neck and inhaling your scent.
Y/N is back, she's here.
"Me too, baby", you said, kissing his neck multiple times, "I'm so glad to be home", you mumbled, pulling a smile out of him before you kissed his lips.
"One could argue we are here too, but we're clearly not that important", Max joked, patting Lando's back where he could given that you were clinging to him like a koala.
"The car is in the -2 Parking zone", Lando offered, grabbing your luggage and walking behind his bestfriend and his girlfriend while keeping you close to him.
For now, this would have to suffice before things changed forever.
The whole drive back to Lando's apartment involved light chatter and catching up on the past few weeks.
"I think we should go out, enjoy some of the night life while you still can", Max slapped Lando's shoulder once you had settled in and unpacked.
"I can get us entrances", the Formula One driver agreed, grabbing his phone before he went through his contacts.
Once the entrances and the dinner reservations were secured, the four of you took turns in showering and getting ready, Lando never letting you leave his sight for long.
"You look beautiful, lovie", Lando complimented, watching your shake out the curls you had done on your hair.
"Thank you, bubs - you look really handsome too, I love it when you wear all black", you mused, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles gently.
It was all good. You didn't seem mad or upset with him, in the contrary actually - like he felt, you too were a bit needy for his touch and to have him close to you, offering him reassuring words and sweet nothings every time you could. Maybe his thoughts were a lie. Some of them have been, maybe those were too.
The dinner was lovely and you were able to walk to the club you'd be spending the night in, getting drinks first before finding the area you were staying in. Lando was quickly pulled by the DJ on the booth, recognising him from previous nights out, while you, Max and Pietra stayed where you were.
He was enjoying himself before he noticed you were chatting with someone else, remembering him from your friend's birthday.
He has a girlfriend who is Y/N's friend, Lando has nothing to worry about.
Until he does.
He doesn't miss the way you hug him or the way you engage in light chat with him, all smiles and cheers.
You deserve someone who is always there for you, who can be present and make you smile like that all the time, and he knows he's not the person for the job.
"I'm going back down to my group - thanks for the invite", Lando shook his hand before pulling the DJ for a quick hug, making his way to you and your friends.
"Hey, love, you're back!", you smiled with a big wave to beckon him over, lacing your hand in his as soon as you were close enough, "you remember Marvin, right?".
"Yes, hi, how are you?", he mused, shaking his hand before protectively placing his arm around your waist.
Marvin had to leave to go be with his friend group as since then, you noticed Lando seemed weird. He was usually the life of the party and he always enjoyed himself in these environments, so to see him just stand there and sway his head to the music was a foreign sight.
"Dance with me, baby", you put your back to his chest, letting his hand hold you by your waist still while you swayed your bodies.
"I love you, Y/N, never forget that", he mumbled spontaneously after a while, kissing your cheek multiple times before hiding your face in your neck.
"I love you too, Lan, so much", you replied back as that was the last clue that something was going on.
A couple hours later, and after you had been sat at the booth for quite a bit, you told Lando that you felt a little tired, Max and Pietra agreeing with you that all the travelling had caught up with you, so you made your way out and back to his apartment.
"Have a goodnight, guys", you waved as Max helped his girlfriend into the room, the blonde woman having already fallen asleep on the way.
"Are you feeling better, Y/N?", Lando wondered as he watched you put your heels back in their spot once you stepped inside your bedroom and closed the door behind you.
You debated telling him the truth, but your relationship has been built in honesty and trust about everything, so the course to take was obvious, "Actually", you began, "I am totally fine, but I noticed you weren't great, you didn't seem that happy and I thought we could talk about it , if you'd like", you suggested, "or we could sleep, I'm fine with either, but I hope you choose the one that makes you feel better", you smiled.
The smile quickly vanished when Lando got up from the bed, his body language tight and tense, "now you care about me? Now you want to know if I'm okay or if I'm doing what makes me happy? All after I felt like shit and had to deal with things on my own?", Lando mused, taking you aback with such words.
"Lando, baby, what do you mean with that?", you asked.
"You were here and I was there, and then I have been here while you've been back home and you haven't been there for me", Lando spat, "I just wanted you by my side, I needed you and you weren’t there for me", he concluded. The anger previously in his tone was replaced by sadness and a hint of shame even.
"Lando, it's not like I have been on vacation purposefully away from you - there have been matters that my family needed me to take care of as there wasn't anyone else to take that responsibility! I don't understand where this is coming from - if I wasn't with you it's because I really couldn't be there!", you argued.
"It's... I can't do this right now", Lando looked up as tears started brimming his eyes.
"It seems not", you defended yourself, feeling the hints of accusation and the lack of flexibility and empathy from your boyfriend, "excuse me", you offered, grabbing your pyjamas and leaving your shared bedroom.
The accusations you threw to one another were heard by your guests as Max looked for you while you adjusted the living room sofa so that it could turn into a single bed, not needing the full sized mattress since you'd be clearly sleeping alone.
"What are you doing here?", Max wondered.
"You don't need to pretend you didn't hear that", you shrugged your shoulders before wiping your cheeks with your thumb, pulling on the sheet so the corner wouldn't fly off during the night.
"I can't take the guest room when you are sleeping here, Y/N", Max offered, pulling your hand so you would get up.
"I'm fine, it's not like I'm counting on getting that much sleep", you mumbled, sitting down against the cushions.
"You two are going to sort it out", Max gulped, "you always do, Y/N", sitting down next to you.
"Do you think we will?", you muttered, the weight of the words leaving your mouth settling in the possibility, "did he tell you anything? I'm at a loss at where all of this has come from", you offered your perspective.
"You're Lando and Y/N - there is no way in this world that you don't make it work. You are meant to be, no matter whatever turn you took in your life or whatever decisions you could've taken differently, you and Lando were supposed to meet in every single one of them", Max comforted as he rubbed your back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.
"Things are so messed up between us", you tutted at your boyfriend's earlier words and the disbelief that this was happening.
"Lando has been under a lot of pressure lately", Max offered, "I know his words hurt you and I'm certainly not justifying them, but he's... He just wants to be his best self for you, and between his family issues and this season's prospects, not having you with him there has shaken the foundation he thought was his steady self".
"I didn't notice it - yay for the bad girlfriend points!", you jokingly cheered before groaning, "I need out of this day".
"That's why you should go to the spare bedroom to sleep it off, Y/N", Max sternly said, "and you're not a bad girlfriend for this, not at all".
"I'm staying here, I told you", you stated, "you go and take that spare room, P is probably asleep on the bed already", you giggled, "I'll be fine".
"Tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for a fresh outlook of this whole situation", Max tapped his thighs before getting up, "Good night, Y/N".
"Good night, Max", you waved as he turned off the ceiling lights and closed the French doors that separated the living room from the dining room and the rest of the apartment.
Lando tossed and turned around for what felt like the hundredth time since he laid down on the mattress.
His words didn't come out the way he wanted them to.
But maybe it was for the best.
He didn't want to hurt you, and that is both a burden and a guilt that he will carry for the rest of his life.
She'll never forgive him. Not now that he's really shown how messed up and broken he is. How the playful, giggly boyfriend she was with is now a shell of a poor excuse of a man. He had been spending the nights alone since you were gone, but now that he knew you were - hopefully - still somewhere in the apartment and not next to him, the weight on his chest couldn't be heavier. It gets harder to breathe, and the thoughts don't stop.
He's lost the best person in his life because these insecurities got the best of him. Once again, he's letting them win and take charge of his life.
Lando sits up and holds the pillow you usually sleep with, trying to catch a small whiff of your scent that still lingers there and usually calms him down.
He's done something really bad. Maybe this was him. This was who he was nowadays and he was truly doing you the favour of letting you out before it got too bad.
When Lando wakes up after sleeping for what feels like a long nap, only Max is up as he steps into the kitchen.
"Morning", Lando muttered, not sure where to pick up from what he knows his bestfriend heard only a couple of hours ago.
"Morning, mate! P is feeling the hangover, so she'll be out for a while! Let's go on a run, it will do us both good", he put his hands on Lando's shoulders and patting them.
Lando groans and looks longingly at the living room, noticing the closed doors, wondering if you were still asleep.
Such an ass he is, letting his girlfriend sleep on the sofa.
Lando and Max run the usual distance, stopping to stretch at the little park area near his apartment, and because it's still early, there is no one else around but them and an older man walking his dog.
"Will you tell me what's going on with you and Y/N? Because by the looks of it, you really should talk to someone about it", Max stated. There wasn't a chance that Lando could run away from this, figuratively or literally, so he explained to his bestfriend what had been going on his mind.
"Do you think I am someone worthy of her? Y/N deserves so much better than me, so it's best if she leaves me first", Lando concluded.
"If she leaves you first, what?! Do you think it won't hurt you? Or her? Is that what this is all about?", Max argued, "you're seriously telling me that the only way you see a solution for this is to break up with her because you're so sure she wants to break up with you?! This is ridiculous, Lando!!".
"Of course it will hurt, Max! I love that girl with everything I have and I can't bear the thought of disappointing her, of her having less than she deserves, and I also can't even think about her leaving me! The anticipation that any moment she could say those words has been killing me!", he admitted outloud for the first time.
"Lando, that girl loves you with every bone of her body, do you really think she is going to break up with you?", Max sighed, "your mind is lying to you and it pains me to see the way it's doing it to you and the people around you".
"I'm not where I should be, these thoughts are consuming me left and right and I can't tell apart what is real and what my mind is catastrophising ", Lando agreed.
"Lando, people can't help you if you don't tell them you're feeling like that", Max stated, both sternly and empathetically, "and there are so many people that care about you".
They sit in silence in the bench as Lando ponders his words and Max replays them on his head.
"Is that what is going on in your head, though? That Y/N is going to leave you, and so you're getting ahead of it by breaking up with her?", Max mused.
"When you say it like that, it sounds so stupid and the opposite of what I want to do", Lando scoffed at himself, "but everything is aligned to it - she can do so much better for herself, and it's stupid I know, but my mind goes on and on about this and it almost never quietens down", he gulped.
"Y/N doesn't want to leave you, Lando, that's another lie you're telling yourself", Max offered, "she loves you and you deserve eachother because you're it, you're the endgame and you can work through this, but she needs to know".
"I know - sometimes I do anyway, I think", Lando chuckled lightly at his own joke, "we need to go home, I need to speak with Y/N".
"Indeed you do", Max agreed, getting up and following him to the apartment.
Pietra was already up and in the kitchen when the boys arrived, pecking her boyfriend's lips and looking at Lando, "Y/N's up, we have had breakfast and she went back to the living room while I was in the shower", she informed as Lando nodded.
"Can I come in?", Lando asked after knocking on the door.
"Yes, it's your apartment after all", you mused as he stepped inside
"No, Y/N", Lando groaned, "this is our place, my love, and there's something I need to tell you, many things in fact", he added.
"You should start then", you patted the spot next to the mattress where you had spent the night.
"I love you, Y/N, so much, that was never a question, and it was because I love you so much that every now and again, I have these thoughts that I'm not good enough for you, that I can't give you what you deserve and that you'd be better off with someone else, or without me", he took a big breath in, "I just wanted to be my best self for you, and it all comes crashing and building up and up and I can't shut the noise down".
"Lando, you could've told me, I would've helped, try to do my best in helping you so you weren't carrying this on your own", you offered, your hand crawling to his so you could hold it in yours.
"I hated that I needed you that much because you also have your own life and you don't want to be next to me every waking second. In my head, you shouldn't have to deal with me being needy of feeling like this", he admitted.
"And I'll be, I don't care what you need or say, Lando, I'm going to be here for you, I don't have to go back for a while now, so I'll be where you need me", you offered, "and, Lando, you could never be too much for me, you could never make me feel like I can do better because every day I thank my lucky stars that we're together and that you feel the same love I feel for you", you cupped his face, "you deserve so much, Lando Norris, and I'll work everyday to prove you that you're worthy of love and care and that things going on here are sometimes a lie", you kissed his forehead.
"I don't deserve having you, I yelled at you for no reason", Lando mumbled.
"There was a reason, and it would take me a lot more than you yelling at me when you're stressed and worried, but I'd also like to know whatever is happening when it is happening so I can help, or we can seek out professional help too", you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.
No one had ever fought for him like this. He's used to be the one to prove to people that they belong in his life and that's he's all in, not the other way around since, once every time his partners start to feel like it's too much once the honeymoon phase fades out and regular, day-to-day troubles show up notice it getting serious, they flee.
"We'll do this together, lovie", Lando muttered against your lips as he looked into your eyes, "I'm sorry I doubted you when in reality you are the one who's always stuck with me", he smiled, kissing your lips.
609 notes · View notes
allaboutnayeli · 5 months ago
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not over, never over | a.putellas x reader
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summary: you and alexia broke up but that doesn't mean everything is over.
author notes: sorry to the blonde british woman fans 💔 alexia won so i had to pull this out. i actually been wanting to write smt for alexia for so long! hope you guys enjoy this 😋
contains: ex!alexia x reader, no toxicity just pure misunderstanding and love in these parts, angst but it's worth it, from lovers to exes to lovers trope, lesbians lesbian-ing, badly translated spanish sorry spanish speaking community 🗣️, inspiration is lyssa & dijonai look at wnba lesbian drama influencing people outside of the league, slow build up.. just vibe
playing let em' know by bryson tiller 🎵
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"if that's how you really feel then i'm done!" is the last thing you said to alexia before leaving her apartment. not only her apartment, but the three year long relationship that has been a stable figure in your life since it started. you aren't even sure how the argument that led up to the break-up even started; alexia and you ended up in her apartment after a intense training session. she was irritated, you were irritated. all it took was one wrong move where you complained that there was a lack of warm water after alexia's shower and you two were suddenly spilling out all of the problems going on in-between you two.
how sometimes the spaniard doesn't communicate in the healthiest way, opting to hold everything in until her emotions explode. how you overthink about every little action she does which leads to you misreading the situation and being distant towards her. it was both of yours faults but at the same time no body's fault. everything just happened at the wrong time, on the wrong day, in the wrong moment and the end result is a break-up that neither of you wanted but both of you refuse to take back.
the first few days without alexia feels like pure hell. going into practice and seeing her face everyday is not helping your emotional state. you want to be angry with her but at the same time you feel so apologetic that you can't bring yourself to entirely blame her for the break-up. she may have started the argument, but you continued it and was the one to end it in such a castophic way so you were also apart of the problem.
the other barcelona girls don't notice right away what happened. alexia and you would act friendly with eachother, a little avoidant but friendly. at the end of the day, when you two are on the pitch, feelings need to be pushed aside and football needs to take priority. she's still professional and you are too but there is a sense of distance that even others soon notice.
mapi is the first to say something about it. alexia is over mapi and ingrid's shared apartment, laying on her couch while watching some old euros matches. rewatching the euros from last year before the tournament for this year happens is a tradition mapi and alexia pride themselves on. however, there is a bit of sadness hanging over the usually fun hangout.
"is spain losing again or what? you have hardly smiled since you got here," the tattooed woman says, coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. she makes alexia adjust so that she can also sit down on the couch. the way alexia takes a short moment to reply is already worrying mapi.
"what? no, i.." alexia shakes her head before glancing at her friend. she doesn't know what excuse to use; should she just say she doesn't feel well or say it's a family issue? neither would do, mapi can read alexia like the back of her hand. the only person mapi knows better is ingrid which is expected.
before alexia can say anything else, mapi places her free hand on the older woman's shoulder. a knowing smile on her lips as she looks at alexia. there is of course the constant warmth that mapi brings around with her everywhere, in everything. that warmth makes alexia perk up a little. mapi is her bestfriend; venting to her wouldn't be so bad. it wouldn't be bad at all. mapi is not the type to judge, anyone can see that based off her tattoos alone.
"is it about y/n? the last time i saw you two leave practice together was nearly a week ago and that's a long time for you two," mapi says gently, knowing how alexia sometimes needs coaxing to speak her mind.
it's something about hearing your name and mapi's tone and just being near her bestfriend that makes alexia blurt out, "she broke up with me!"
immediately she quietens down, hopefully none of mapi's neighbors cared about or heard that little outburst.
"i mean.. we had an argument then she left my apartment. she said she's done," the blonde sighs. letting out a small laugh at how mapi shifts to pull her into a hug. she accepts it easily, there's no point of rejecting it when mapi already knows what's wrong.
"it's okay, alexia. well.. it's not okay but you know what i mean," mapi says, "sabes que ella te ama."
"por supuesto que lo sé," alexia pulls away from the embrace. she lets out a tired sigh, leaning back into the couch to match the exhaustion in her mind. she could play practice for hours on end without feeling tired but days without you leaves her feeling aimless. three straight years of having you for herself and now you're gone, in that way at least.
"but still she said she's done. i feel horrible for how quick i was to lash out at her.." alexia continues to tell mapi about what happened. how the littlest thing set her off and she just couldn't stop. the argument wasn't even about the shower, alexia had been pent up with emotions for a long while that day. they all just spilled out the moment a tiny conflict happened. the remorse in the blonde is obvious just by her words, but it's not just her tone or what she says. alexia's whole body looks defeated like when she loses a big game.
it's a sorry sight truly. mapi gives her opinion once alexia is finished. saying, "just sounds like you need to communicate better. i think you can work it out with her. muéstrale que lo que pasó fue un error. uno del que te arrepientes."
alexia glances at mapi before looking at the tv screen across from them. the match is nearly over, with spain still losing. she can't even focus on how her nation's men team is being absolute shit when everytime she closes her eyelids, she sees your face. she sees the hurt expression you had when she snapped at you. the way she could see how you tensed up and immediately got defensive but there was this split second where you just looked so hurt. nobody would have caught that slight expression change before you yelled back, but she did, of course she did. she has spent so much time studying your face and your habits and just you that she could describe you so easily, like there is some textbook out there with your name on it. in a way there is; it's sitting all pretty inside of alexia's head.
if only she wasn't such an asshole, maybe all those things she knew about you wouldn't go to waste.
mapi doesn't try to make alexia speak again. instead she just chews on her popcorn and watches the match on screen. alexia would open back up soon enough, when she felt like it.
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everyone else figured out what happened when weeks passed and you two weren't acting like y'all usually do. no obviously affectionate teasing or kisses you two think everyone else doesn't see. mapi of course haven't told anyone except for ingrid who isn't the type to gossip, but coming to the conclusion that you two were broken up was easy to get just from your actions.
walking into the locker room knowing everyone knew was driving your anxiety up a wall. would someone say something about it? or would they just ignore it? there isn't some tension between alexia and you.. at least you don't believe it to be. even though you can hardly look at her for more than five minutes before looking away. she wasn't doing any better. yeah, no tension.
you decide to just act like you were unbothered by the break-up. going into the locker room like any other day and just doing what you usually do; and nothing happens. everyone talks to you like normal. you thought someone would point out what happened but then you realized your teammates, your friends are better than that. all the questioning would probably happen later outside of practice.
everybody could see how affected alexia was even though she tried to hide it. she isn't as good at acting nonchalant as she thinks she is. in reality, the other barcelona girls could tell something was wrong with how distant she's being. keeping to herself more, being one of the first to head for the locker room once practice ended and one of the last to arrive. of course nothing affected her performance on the pitch. like always alexia was a force to be reckoned with.
meanwhile anyone who didn't know you. didn't know how deep the relationship between alexia and you ran would think you didn't care about what happened; the furthest thing from the truth. you just carry the hurt around, keeping it to yourself.
"hola hermosa. ¿cómo estás?" you hear from behind you when going to your car after practice. you turn to see salma. the tall girl smiles at you, quick to come closer and sling her arm over your shoulder. pulling you close as she says, "don't answer that. i already know how you're feeling. how are you handling the breakup is a better question."
one moment you were confused on who was talking to you and the next you are in salma's arms. you blame her long legs for how quick everything happened or maybe it's due to how spaced out you were being.
"how do you know i'm dealing with a break-up is the actual question," you say even though you already knew everyone else figured out what happened.
"c'mon, everyone can tell. we just didn't want to make things awkward at practice but aitana sent me to come check up on you," she smiles at you, "it isn't hard to figure out if anyone looks at you and alexia for more than two minutes. i can see it in your eyes."
was it that obvious? of course it was. you have always been thankful for how good your teammates were at figuring things out but right now you really wished you didn't so you could just deal with this on your own.
"alright, whatever. i'm not handling it well at all. i didn't think i would be single right now.." you let out a long sigh and another sigh when you saw the look of sympathy salma was giving you.
"awe, y/n," salma pulls you into a hug. you happily accept it, you have been needing a hug for a while now since you weren't getting any hugs from alexia anymore. it's a little embarrassing to hug in the middle of the parking lot, but whatever.
"can i come over? you can vent all you want. maybe get tipsy, nobody has to know," she says when she pulls away from the hug after a long moment.
you go silent as you think then you nod, "okay."
and that's how you end up on your couch, way more than a little tipsy (you only had two glasses of wine), crying to salma.
"i just don't get it. why wouldn't she stop me from leaving? why wouldn't she reach out afterwards? i didn't mean what i said!" your words are irrational and you know that but the alcohol in your system is just fueling your thoughts. salma is holding you in her arms. she's unsure if she should just outright tell you that it's obvious alexia wants you back or would it be better to just tell you to reach out instead. she goes with the latter; giving you the truth right now about how alexia is low-key miserable without you doesn't seem like the best option. maybe when you aren't tipsy off some wine.
"why don't you reach out? why didn't you? the break-up sounds so out of the blue, i wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the fact you and alexia are being all weird around each other," salma says.
"we aren't being weird around eachother."
"alexia scored in our last match and you didn't go to hug her like everyone else. you just gave her a high five before we got back to playing. if this was a few weeks ago, you would have been the first to hug her."
salma's accurate reasoning makes you want to roll your eyes and deny, but it's true. alexia and you are at a weird point. haven't not talked once outside of something football related. no texting either, just pure distance. that night when you left you have hoped she would call or text or even talk to you the next day at practice, but that didn't happen. just silence and distance and a "friendly" demeanor that definitely had something underneath. just because you two didn't talk didn't mean there wasn't still chemistry there.
you shrug, looking up at the taller girl, "i might. just nervous, what if she officially wants to be done and never to look back? i just walked out on her." the anxiety in your mind was building back up; the alcohol was not helping.
"she might be, actually, i know she's hurt but that doesn't mean she wouldn't hear you out. it's you we're talking about here," salma looks down at you. seeing the obvious sadness and regret in your eyes makes her frown. it wasn't like you to be so down, your personality wasn't like that.
the emphasis on know makes you feel a little more confident. if salma is so sure and she's looking from the outside in, no emotions clouding her judgement, then it must be true right? the least you could do was try.
"alright, i'll talk to her. i swear." salma smiles at your words, quick to grab your glass and put a small amount of wine in it.
then she smirks at you, "one last drink? it's celebratory."
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the last match of the season was an obvious success, an easy win against valencia. all of the barcelona players decided to go out clubbing to celebrate the end of the season despite the fact you all would be heading to mexico soon enough; that doesn't mean y'all couldn't get a little drunk though.
it has been a solid few days since you had that venting session with salma and still you haven't done what you said. it wasn't your fault really, with the season almost coming to a close, you didn't want to have that conversation and possibly make the locker room a weird environment if alexia didn't take you back. salma (and aitana who salma had reported everything you said back to) were against your thinking. firmly pushing for you to just talk to her and figure everything out.
"the environment in the locker room is already weird because we are used to seeing you guys together," is what aitana said when you told her your reasoning, "ella te quiere de vuelta, todos lo pueden decir."
hearing that from aitana had put more confidence in you than before. it couldn't be a lie if salma and aitana believed it, right?
back to the clubbing, you are getting ready at your apartment. everyone has gone back to their own homes after celebrating in the locker room, so they could freshen up and change. you spend way more time on finding an outfit than you usually do; tonight was the night you planned to talk to alexia. having this long needed conversation when you both were sober and not high off of a good season would be best but everyone needs some liquid courage sometimes to pull through, to get what they want.
it's slowly been getting too long since you two last spoke outside of football, the last time you two interacted on social media, and fans were slowly noticing it.
it wasn't a hard task to spot the tension and lack of celebrating on the pitch in-between you two. you vividly remember going on twitter to so many fanpages wondering what's going on between alexia and you. scrolling past each one made you just want to throw away your rational thinking and text alexia right away, but no. you waited until the season ended so here you are putting on a pink halter top and a short skirt that you knew alexia loved, she bought it after all. when it came to jewelry you put on the necklace she left over at your place.
you haven't gone over to her place to get your things and she hasn't either. you noticed that she kept wearing the gold promise ring you bought her, seeing that made your heart flutter every time. you weren't any different, you still wore your promise ring as well and you have been sleeping in the shirts she left over your place every single night without fail.
you take a short while to finish your makeup, just in time as you hear a car honk outside. already knowing it was aitana, you were planning to get drunk tonight or just a little tipsy so driving your car to the club wasn't an option. you grab your purse, making sure you had your phone, before leaving out of your apartment. smiling as aitana waves at you from her car. she giggles when you get in the passenger seat, smile on your lips.
"ready to get your girl back?" she glances at you.
you gasp before laughing, "we're going to the club to celebrate how amazing we were all season. not for some get her back plot."
"it's okay to tell the truth," aitana gives you a teasing smile before focusing her attention on getting out of your apartment complex parking lot and on the street.
"you have been around mapi way too much."
the club is bustling with people as aitana and you step inside. she pulls you towards where the tables all the other barcelona players are at. immediately your eyes land on alexia, she's sitting at a table with mapi, ingrid, marta, and caro. two couples at the table and it would be three if you were over there, if you two were still together.
she's wearing a red tube top and denim shorts that show off her legs. she looks beautiful like always and you can't, don't, stop your thoughts from wandering.
"we're finally here! y/n was taking forever," aitana smiles as you two stop at the table with ona, lucy, and keira. you spot salma sitting with patri and claudia, all of them already having drinks.
"of course she was. we shouldn't expect less from her," lucy laughs as you scoff. sitting down next to aitana, you lean your body slightly on the table. "i bet ona takes longer," you say.
"what did i do?" everyone at the table laughs at ona offended expression. conversation flows freely between you all. nobody has gotten rowdy just yet, with the team still waiting on frido, jana, and a few others to come to the club. your mind strays away from the fact alexia is at the table next to you as you engage in a heated debate with lucy about who is going to win the euros this year.
"don't act like england is a bad team!" lucy says, looking at keira for back-up. the younger woman rolls her eyes, turning to continue to talk to aitana.
"i never said that but they just aren't beating spain this year," you say back. ona immediately jumps in to defend your point, "she's right. i bet spain is going to crush it this year."
"babe, you're supposed to be on my side."
"i am on your side, just not your country's side."
ona and lucy's little back and forth is cut short as everybody else arrives. now it's really time to let loose and party. aitana immediately sends you to the bar to get everyone at the table drinks, you pass by patri and claudia who got up to dance the moment everyone was here. you know a few of your other teammates are dancing right now; frido didn't even sit down before going to the dance floor.
when you left for the bar, you didn't notice the mischievous smile on aitana's lips or how she looked over at mapi who had a mischievous look in her eye. you also didn't notice how alexia wasn't at her table anymore either.
you reach the bar, leaning against it as you wait for the bartender to come over since he's busy with someone else right now. when you look to your right, you have to do a double take because it's a pretty blonde with a red tube top and denim shorts on right next to you; alexia.
she's acting like she doesn't notice that you are right next to her but she could spot you from a mile away. should she say something? her internal monologue was basically full of just "duh of course" and "what if she doesn't even want to talk to you"
both are annoying the shit out of her, so when the bottle of tequila comes she opens it. pouring herself a shot and downs it right away.
"you're eager, huh?" you want to slap your hand over your lips. you weren't planning to speak to her just yet, later on when you had some type of alcohol in your system was the plan.
alexia glances at you. a mix of uncertainty and fondness in her eyes.
she chuckles, "yeah. why don't you get some drinks so you can join me? you did so well during the season.. you deserve it."
the praise makes you feel all warm. way too warm in a club packed with people. you feel hesitant, nervous, unsure of how this would continue. would you two actually talk about what happened or just act like it didn't happen the entire night?
"you did well too," you say before turning to call for the bartender. after you order the drinks, you look over to the spot next to you where alexia was and find that she's gone. you give a quick glance behind you at the tables where the team was at. she's sitting down next to aitana now, half of her table was gone as mapi and ingrid are up somewhere.
"thanks," you say to the bartender. grabbing the drinks before walking back over to your table. alexia smiles at you when you sit down. you smile back.
ona and lucy take their drinks, ona pulling lucy up to go to dance and keira gestures to aitana to get up.
"gracias por las bebidas. ya volvemos, yendo al baño," aitana says, getting up. you give her a weird look; one of pleading for her to stay and not leave you alone with alexia. the blonde gives aitana a weird look of her own.
aitana and keira leave, ignoring you both. you can easily see they aren't even going to the bathroom, but neither alexia and you object.
the table falls into an awkward silence. alexia sips on her drink, this time it isn't a shot but an actual glass. you let your eyes wander before landing on your drink; alexia knows you're trying to avoid her gaze and it's really starting to annoy her. mapi had drilled into her head (it took so many times because alexia is too stubborn for her own good) that you want her back, that y'all are meant to be. the alcohol in her system is really messing with her right now and all she wants to do is to be against you, feeling your warmth.
and you weren't faring much better mentally. you came here to celebrate but to also get alexia back or at least talk about what happened but you can't even muster up the courage to mention it. you have hardly spoken to her.
she's looking at you though, you can feel it.
"i'm going to dance. you should too, bonita," she says before standing up. you don't answer her but you watch her walk away; she can feel your eyes on her.
if this was just a week ago, alexia would be way too nervous to call you that but the alcohol is fueling her confidence and your eyes on her settle any nerves that she had left. however the spanish player was going to let you approach her, so whatever is about to happen can go at your pace; she respects you like that. also she doesn't want to scare you off or piss you off. she just hopes you don't take long because one more drink and she might just take things into her own hands.
you sit at the table, sipping on your drink but you can only watch everybody dance for so long until you get up yourself. remembering how alexia called you bonita makes you finish off your drink, determined to at least try to get her back tonight.
when you go onto the dancefloor you don't go straight for her but decide to dance with salma. somehow she hasn't tired herself out and she happily pulls you close.
"pensé que ibas a estar ocupado hablando con tu novia. ¿cuál es el problema?" she shouts close to your ear, trying to make you hear her over the music. you shake your head, "i'm going to.. i just need more time!"
"bueno, parece que la reina se está impacientando," the tall girl laughs, "she's looking over here at you."
a look of confusion crosses your face before you turn slightly to look behind you and spot her right away. she's dancing with frido but her eyes are focused on you; the spaniard's gaze is intense, calling out to you.
"i'm going to talk to her," you turn to look at salma, "and don't get too drunk, okay? drink some water!" then you move away from her. you barely catch the "okay!" shouted towards you (which you know is a lie) as you make your way off of the dancefloor and towards the bathroom. you need to prepare yourself before approaching alexia.
you step into the bathroom, thankful that it's empty. straight away you go to the sink to look at yourself. what should you say? should you just apologize? you aren't able to go too deep into your pondering as you hear the bathroom door open then close.
"you just keep walking out on me, huh?" the voice of alexia makes you look at the door. there she is, arms crossed across her chest as she looks at you. same intense look from earlier.
"i wouldn't call this instance walking out. i was going to come and talk to you," you say. this isn't how you imagined having a conversation with her, but it's happening so you'll just have to deal with it.
"bueno lo haré. me viste... mirándote y ni siquiera te acercaste a mí," the spaniard walks closer to you and you don't step away, "everyone is telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"
you shake your head, some confidence and a lot of determination flows into your conscience, "people keep telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"
alexia chuckles, "no, of course not. i'm just frustrated. we both came to this club knowing that we want each other but it feels like you are playing games with me."
"games? i'm not. i didn't want to just come over to you and be like be my girlfriend again. i wasn't sure how you felt exactly, just that you wanted me back. i didn't want to rush it," you are quick to say. the words would sound rational to a less drunk version of alexia but all she could think about is that she wished you two talked about this way earlier.
"that's sweet, but i can't wait any longer. i only want one thing."
"what?"
"to be yours."
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author notes: this didn't come out like how i expected it to but i don't hate it. hopefully y'all liked it and i wrote alexia okay enough. also this fic is so long, so like cliffhanger or part two?
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
654 notes · View notes
jude-duarte-wannabe · 2 months ago
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one order to be served by lewis carl davidson hamilton please!! oaty slice, english muffin, apple turnover and croissant with a side of tea, cider and pina colada 😁😁 reader is working remotely and having an online meeting but lewis is dying to eat her out and just do it while she was in the meeting 🥵💦
irresistible
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, i think this may be my longest story yet, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing after being gone so long, i hate promising to post and then not being able to cause of work, sorry for the late reply <3 your requested prompts will be bolded
pairing; husband lewis hamilton x female wife reader
blurb; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself, he's just lucky you love him aka lewis eats his wife out while she's on a zoom call
warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, belly kisses, semi public sex, body worship, pregnancy kink. [let me know if i missed anything]
tea; semi public sex cider; body worship pina colada; pregnancy oaty slice; "you smell like me" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" apple turnover; "can you keep it down in there" changed to "can you keep it down under there" croissant; "don't you dare"
words; 3.1k
currently playing; hands to myself by selena gomez "can't keep my hands to myself, no matter how hard i'm trying to"
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"oh god dammit, boba no!" you scolded your two year old calico who sat on the stool next to your laptop, swatting at the screensaver you had set, picking her up you stepped out of the little home studio you'd made for yourself during the covid days.
"lew!" you called out waiting for an answer but after not getting one, you wandered down the hall and into the living room, as you carried boba into the living room, she squirmed in your arms, clearly displeased at being removed from her new favorite perch, you sighed, scratching behind her ears to relax her "i know, i know the pretty lights are fun, but mommy needs to work."
as you entered the living room, you noticed lewis sprawled out on the couch, completely engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. you rolled your eyes fondly, a soft smile decorating your face as you realized why he hadn't answered your call.
"lew..." still no response as his eyes remained trained on his phone "lewis hamilton" you scolded and that caught his attention immediately, looking up at you with soft eyes as he dropped his phone.
"am i in trouble.." he gulped, looking sheepish as he responded.
"not yet," you said, your tone softening as you took in his worried expression. "but you will be if you don't start paying attention."
you merely dropped boba onto his lap and crossed your arms over your chest "please keep her out of my studio... the album is due at the end of the month and i still have three songs to finish" you groaned.
he nodded numbly which made you feel guilty for scolding him over something so silly and so you lent down and placed little kisses against his lips "i'm sorry i called you lewis" you mumbled as your thumb gently traced over his cheek. "you'll always be my lew"
you left him on the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge but before you could move and return to your studio, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, cradling your pregnant belly lightly.
"you smell like me bub" lewis mumbled into the skin of your neck, which sent shivers zipping up and down your spine.
you leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. a soft smile played on your lips as you placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers.
"i should hope so," you murmured, turning your head slightly to catch his eye, resting it on his shoulder. "i've been wearing your sweater all day."
he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. "i noticed," he said, his arm tightening around you. "it looks incredible on you."
"well i unfortunately have to take it off soon" you groaned "stupid zoom meeting with my producer"
lewis sighed, running his fingers over your bump, the soft fabric of his over sized sweater rubbing on your skin gently. "can't you just keep it on for the meeting?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
you shook your head, a wry smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "not unless i want to explain to my producer why i'm wearing 'the' lewis hamilton's sweater" you giggled.
lewis chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "but i'd love to see see his reaction." his voice dropped into a whisper, your producer had always been flirty with you mainly because he thought you were single and lewis hated it.
you playfully swatted his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity and tone of voice. "that's horrible lew"
"i hate the way he flirts with you, your mine" he growled against the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin. "and this proves it" his finger ran over the cold metal of your wedding band.
"your lucky i love you lew, your so possessive and you and i both know you like keeping this private, i like it being just us" you giggled, removing yourself from his grip, pulling his sweater up and over your head, placing it on the counter.
you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips "love you, i should go" and with that you made your way back to your studio, almost waddling due to the size of your belly.
as you walked, lewis couldn't help but admire you in your white floral maternity dress, he couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in his belly or resist the surge of desire that simmered within him.
lewis had always found you irresistible but now that you were pregnant he could hardly ever keep his hands to himself anymore, working on your newest album was the only break you got from his ever wandering hands.
but unfortunately for you, it seemed that not even that would be enough to stop lewis anymore, he made his way to your home studio, feet padding on the hardwood floors as he went.
you wouldn't have even known that lewis was there, leaning against the door-frame had he not accidentally bumped the door causing the hinges to squeak.
"what are you doing lew" you mumbled, taking your seat in front of your mic, lewis didn't answer your question, he merely wandered over and dropped to his knees in front of you.
his head rested in your lap, hands holding your hips as he placed kisses to your swollen belly, each of them filled with love and a gentleness that only lewis had ever shown you, it was part of the reason you'd fallen for him.
"want to taste you bub" his words were mumbled but you understood him well enough, you shook your head "don't you dare even think about it" you softly scolded, hand cupping his cheek.
but lewis wasn't in the mood to listen, he wanted to taste you and he had to do it now, the desire simmering within him was pushing him to do so, you were beautiful and he just couldn't get enough of you.
his hands trailed up your thighs, his touch feather light and making a pool of desire simmer in your own belly or was that just the baby getting hungry again, most likely the latter you thought as a giggle escaped your soft lips.
"why do i even bother" you murmured as his fingers started pulling at the band of your panties, eager to get them off and thrown into the nearest corner as soon as humanly possible.
you lifted your hips knowing if you didn't that lewis would simply rip them off you and you couldn't afford to be down yet another pair of panties all because your husband couldn't keep his hands to himself.
you watched as his head disappeared under the skirts of your dress, hands gently parting your thighs to get a better look at your dripping cunt, the way this man could affect you so easily.
he nuzzled against the soft skin of your thigh, you started to get lost in the feeling when the facetime ringtone rang out through the room causing you to jump in your seat, you were so distracted by your god of a husband that you'd basically forgotten you were meant to be facetiming your producer.
"can you keep it down under there" you asked lewis and when he hummed against your skin, you trusted him, bad choice might i say and adjusted your laptop so that both lewis and your belly were out of view before clicking 'accept call'.
"there's the star i know and love" your producer; thomas's voice rang out, you glanced at the screen and smiled as best you could, with lewis currently between your legs, the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was talking to thomas.
"hey tom" you mumbled, voice quiet in order to keep yourself from moaning as lewis kissed at your thighs, slowly inching his way towards your dripping wet cunt with every kiss.
thomas began to ramble about the new album and the last three songs that were needed and while you tried your best to listen, your focus was quickly pulled away from the computer screen and was put into staying quiet when lewis's tongue licked your cunt from bottom to top, nibbling on your clit which he knew would make you squirm.
you nibbled on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your composure as lewis worked his magic between your thighs. you could have sworn you could taste the metallic tang of blood from how hard you were gnawing on your bottom lip in that moment.
thomas's voice began to fade into a distant buzz in your ears. your fingers gripped at the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to moan.
lewis's hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. the thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body betraying your attempts to appear normal.
"taste so good" you heard lewis's mumbled voice and if you weren't so focused on trying to remain quiet and not draw attention to what was really going on, on your side of the screen you would've smacked him round the head.
thomas's face on the screen remained oblivious, still chattering away about chord progressions and potential guest artists. "what about olivia, we've been wanting to work together for awhile" you suggested when you managed to calm yourself enough to speak, your suggestion set thomas off on another tangent.
'good' you thought, that should hopefully keep him distracted for a while but you were once again pulled from your thoughts when lewis's tongue swirled around your most sensitive spots, making your thighs tremble around his head.
you were struggling to maintain your composure as lewis continued his ministrations. thomas's voice once again fading into a distant buzz as pleasure coursed through your body.
"that's actually a great idea," you managed to catch thomas say. "maybe we could arrange a writing session next week?" he suggested to which you merely nodded in return.
lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of your chair, the new angle sent a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you had to disguise the gasp that escaped you as a cough.
"everything okay?" thomas asked, his brow furrowing with concern, he was always concerned when it came to you, sometimes a little too much for lewis's liking.
"peachy" you squeaked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "just recovering from a bit of a dry throat" you lied, reaching for your water bottle to make it seem real.
lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, he was going to leave bruises that was for sure but knowing your husband as well as you did, he would also make sure to kiss them better because he hated hurting you, even when you insisted you were fine.
you knew you were completely fucked however the moment you felt lewis's tongue slip inside your cunt, desperate to taste every bit of you that he could.
your breath caught in your throat as lewis's tongue explored you hungrily. every flick and swirl sending shock waves of pleasure radiating through your body, your hips began to involuntarily move against his face the best they could with your rounded swollen belly in the way, thank god it was still hidden from the cameras view.
"oh god, bub" you moaned softly, your head thrown back in ecstasy.
he growled quietly in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations you were currently feeling. lewis's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with single-minded focus, you were his top priority in this moment and his focus would remain entirely on you, until you tipped over the edge of your release.
wave after wave of bliss washed over you as lewis worked you expertly with his mouth, you could feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of release, just a little more...
"ah y/n, you still with me" holy fuck!, you'd completely forgotten about your producer currently working on a melody on his side of the computer screen, thomas was the most oblivius man you'd ever known and today it was working in your favor.
the fact that he somehow hadn't noticed what was going on almost made you laugh, you bit your lip hard to stop yet another soft moan from slipping past your lips and despite everything that was happening, you somehow managed to croak out a reply to thomas.
"y-yeah, just concentrating," you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady, thomas nodded absentmindedly, completely focused on the track he was currently mixing. "what do you think of this bassline?" he asked, pressing play.
a pulsing beat filled the room, providing the perfect cover as lewis picked up his efforts, he wanted thomas to know what was going on but you were not about to let that happen, not on your watch.
"it's good," you gasped out "maybe try... ah speeding it up a bit?"
as thomas began to fiddle with the tempo, you felt yourself rapidly approaching the point of no return, lewis's skilled tongue was soon joined by his equally skilled fingers slipping inside your tight hot cunt as his mouth started to suck and nibble on your clit.
all the emotions and sensations that you were feeling was making your head dizzy, you wanted to end the call with thomas right then and there so that you could focus on lewis and lewis alone but you knew that, that wasn't about to happen unfortunately.
as lewis's movements intensified, you were struggling to maintain your composure, your breath quickened as you fingers tangled in the fabric of your dress skirt and hiked it up and around your hips.
as you did lewis looked up at you with mischievous eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pleasurable spongy spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud, you swore you could feel lewis smile agaisnt you.
"is everything alright?" thomas asked, finally beginning to notice how quiet you were being on this call compared to all the other video calls you'd shared over these past few months.
"ah.. actually no" you stammered out. "i think i might be coming down with something" you lied to thomas for a second time today.
lewis increased his pace, determined to push you over the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold on.
your breath hitched as you tried to maintain your composure, thomas's concerned voice crackled through the phone, "do you need to rest? we can talk later if you're not feeling well."
"n-no, it's okay," you managed to mutter, lewis's fingers dug into your thighs, his tongue and finger's relentless rhythm threatening to unravel you completely.
"are you sure?" thomas pressed, clearly unconvinced. "you sound... strange." panic fluttered in your chest. you couldn't let him suspect what was really happening. "i'm fine, really," you insisted, your voice strained. "just a bit of a headache." you reached for your water once more.
lewis pulled away from your cunt, his fingers slipping out of your warm cunt as well, his breath was hot against the skin of your thighs as he whispered, "tell him you have to go” oh how you prayed thomas hadn't heard that.
you felt a shiver run down your spine at lewis's command. your mind raced, torn between the overwhelming sensations that your husband was making you feel and the need to stay on the video call with thomas and finish the album.
"actually," you gasped out, "i think i might need to lie down for a bit." you had caved, mind you with a husband like lewis, who wouldn't cave when asked.
"of course," thomas replied, his voice laced with genuine concern for you "get some rest. we can catch up tomorrow."
"thanks," you whispered, your finger moved the cursor so it was hovering over the end call button. "i'll text you later." as soon as the call disconnected, a low moan escaped your lips.
lewis looked up at you again "good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire for you, his beautiful wife. "now, let me hear you properly."
you finally allowed you restraint crumble and you cried out, no longer having to hide the pleasure coursing through your body. "your a fucking menace lew" you scolded your husband as he went back to work, tongue flicking across your clit with renewed fervor.
lewis chuckled against your sensitive core, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through you once more, his strong hands which you loved oh so much gripped at your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed in your seat.
"you love it," he murmured "no i love you" you replied, fingers tangling in with his twisted braids "my handsome handsome husband"
"don't you dare stop," you gasped, your voice hoarse with need, lewis redoubled his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just so and that's when you saw stars, your back arched as waves of ecstasy washed over you
"that's it, baby," lewis encouraged, your body trembled as he guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his touch now feather-light and teasing, when your breathing finally steadied, he kissed a trail up your body paying special attention to your bump before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you swore you could taste yourself on his tongue.
"you're so beautiful when you come undone," he murmured pulling away his voice low and husky, his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly "i could die between these legs" he chuckled.
"i am so going to write a song about this" you teased with a giggle, hand cupping his cheek as you stared into the brown eyes you loved so much, that could be a pretty could be an interesting way to announce your relationship you thought.
he leaned into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "oh yeah? what's it gonna be called?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.
"hmm," you pondered, pretending to think hard. "how about 'the ballad of lewis's talented tongue'?" you joked.
lewis could help but burst out in laughter, burying his face in your neck, "cheeky," he mumbled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there. "i like it though but i might have to fight you for the rights to it."
you ran your thumb across his cheek, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "we could always collaborate," you suggested, your voice softening. "i think we would make beautiful music together."
lewis lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a tender look that made your heart skip. "we already do, love,"
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skalfy · 6 months ago
Text
Misunderstandings
alexia putellas x reader, ~4.1k words, part 1/2 - Part 2 here
angst in this part, but planning for a happy ending.
Hi! for people waiting for part 3 of the Misa story I promise I am working on it, just been busy and got caught with some other ideas, including this one. Hope y'all enjoy this in the meantime!
Also please feel free to send me requests, I am not very quick, but would love to take on some ideas. I don't really have a complete list of players I will/won't write for, but if you send me one for someone I won't, I'll reply and let you know so you can send it elsewhere :)
--
You had no idea how you had gotten off on the complete wrong foot with Alexia Putellas.
It had only been a month since you joined Barcelona on a three year deal, fulfilling a lifelong dream while launching you far out of your comfort zone. You were shy, and coming from Tigres, and before that, college football in America, you hardly even had a former opponent to befriend. All of your new teammates were strangers, and in some cases, even strangers you’d looked up to for years. All of your teammates except one, that was.
In a strange twist of fate, you had met Ingrid Engen almost a decade prior, when the two of you were both 17. You had an aunt--not a real one, but one of your father’s old friends from college-- who had moved to Norway a few years before you were born. Your family had gone to visit Aunt Anna every couple summers, spending a week or two seeing the fjords and the beautiful traveling the countryside. The summer you were 17, Aunt Anna had invited you to stay for a whole month. It was meant to be a sort of final hurrah before you started college in the fall, and your parents agreed without much debate.
Your second night at Aunt Anna’s house in Melhus, you had headed to the football pitch down the street with the intent to complete your assigned summer workout, and instead you had met Ingrid. That evening on the pitch was the start of a whirlwind month-long friendship as the two of you bonded over your love of the sport, then grew to find you had much more in common beyond that. One night as you sat on your bed in Anna’s house, Ingrid had told you that she was gay, opening up about the feelings she had for one of her U-19 national teammates. She held you in a tight hug as, for the first time, you said out loud that you thought you might be gay too.
You had said a tearful goodbye at the end of the month, but stayed in touch with Ingrid somewhat throughout the years, exchanging infrequent texts congratulating each other on football achievements or to check in on life. You had been pleased to hear that things worked out with her national team crush, Marie, though sorry to hear it ended a few years later. She had cheered you on in turn when you had your first serious relationship with a girl at college. When you first arrived at Barça, the two of you hadn’t seen each other since that month in Melhus, even with your respective places on your senior national teams, but you still considered her a trusted friend.
During the your first month with the Blaugrana, you had gravitated immediately toward Ingrid. You were delighted to fall back into the easy friendship you had shared so many years ago, and it helped that you were nervous to attempt to befriend your other teammates. You worried that you were monopolizing Ingrid’s time, but she easily assuaged your concerns, telling you that she was happy to spend the time together and that she would be there to support you as you took opening up to the team at your own pace. She offered you an open invite to have dinner with her and Mapi whenever you were ready to branch out.
Though you mostly kept to yourself and Ingrid, the rest of the team seemed friendly and open for the most part. Pina and Patri didn’t seem to mind your shyness and often chattered happily to you, managing to include you as a third member of their two person conversations in the changing room. Your spanish wasn’t perfect, but three years playing in Mexico had brought you up to a passable level.
Keira and Lucy, often accompanied by Ona, would also frequently bring you into conversations. You got the sense that it was as much for Keira’s sake as yours, she seemed more than pleased to have another native english speaker to chat to. You appreciated their dynamics, full of biting wit and teasing that reminded you of time with your national teammates.
The one person who seemed to hold nothing but animosity towards you was the one who you had been most excited to play with. You racked your brain, but couldn’t place any reason why you so often seemed to be at the receiving end of Alexia’s ire, but it was unmistakeable. At best, she ignored you-- the few mornings you had arrived early enough for the two of you to be the only ones in the changing room, she remained stubbornly silent, hardly acknowledging you at all besides a flat look as you entered. At worst, she singled you out in training, barking critique after critique. You had a relatively thick skin, but the captain’s intense disapproval wore on you as it never seemed to relent.
The obvious explanations that you could think of for her behavior were out. You were a forward, used to playing out and out striker or tucked under as a false 9, but you hadn’t played midfield since a few times in a pinch in college, so even setting aside her unmatched abilities, she couldn’t possibly think you were threatening her place. You had hardly ever played against her, coming off the bench late in a game once against Spain, and playing most of a friendly with Tigres. You had certainly never put in a risky tackle against her, you didn’t think you had even made any impact on her. Certainly nothing she might hold a grudge for-- you hadn’t, say, nabbed a winning goal.
As far as you could tell, it seemed like it was something you had done since joining Barça, because she hadn’t seemed so frosty on your first meeting. The captain had been quiet but polite as she welcomed you to the team, even returning the shy smile you had given her when you were introduced, but by the end of the first week it became clear that you had drawn her ire.
You had asked Ingrid for her opinion, and, while she agreed that Alexia did seem to be especially critical of you, she couldn’t come up with an explanation. After thinking through it, she optimistically suggested that it could be a misguided attempt to help you adjust to the Barcelona playstyle. At the skeptical wince you gave her in response, she offered to ask Mapi to weigh in. You thanked her, but declined. Alexia’s best friend’s opinion would likely be your best chance to understand, but you were wary of putting either Ingrid or her girlfriend in an awkward position.
--
A few days after that conversation with Ingrid, a particularly bad day of practice with Alexia all over your every move had you feeling desperate. You had stuck it out to the end of the session, but raced away as soon as you could, eyes hot with unshed tears and face red with embarrassment and exertion. You passed through the changing room only long enough to kick off your boots and grab your keys and phone. Jana was inside and changed already, on a slightly shortened training plan as she returned from injury, and she called out in concern as she saw you dart for the exit.
“¿Estás bien, Y/N? ¿Qué pasó?” You shook your head as the younger player stepped toward you, not sure whether you were answering no to the first question or trying to deny anything was wrong. Either way, Jana took matters into her own hands, grabbing you gently by the elbow and guiding you to face her. “Let me drive you home, vale?” you choked back a sob and let the defender walk you towards her car.
You told Jana which apartment building you were in and she didn’t bother to plug it into the GPS, navigating the short drive easily. She had turned on some music and you were grateful that she let it play quietly without asking you any more questions. When you reached your building, she turned the car off and climbed out, circling around to meet you at the passenger side door, clearly intent on seeing you all the way in. You let her walk you through your apartment door, sinking onto one of your kitchen chairs once you were in. The defender stood at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little uncertain.
“¿Quieres que llame a alguien? Call someone?” she asked.
“Voy a llamar a Jenni. Gracias por todo. Puedes quedarte si quieres.” you replied, managing a genuine smile at the young defender. She smiled back, pulling out the chair nearest you to sit.
Jenni had been one of your closest friends at Tigres, and she was eagerly checking in on your move to Barcelona every day, but you had held back about the challenges you were having with Alexia. You were afraid to gossip about the captain, especially with Jenni, and you weren’t entirely sure what kind of reaction to expect. But after the day you had, you craved Jenni’s support and guidance too much to keep holding back.
The phone only rang twice before Jenni picked up, greeting you with a cheery “¡hola, cariño!” you tried to answer her in return, but you were caught off guard by the wave of tears that surged back at the sound of her voice. All you managed was an urgent sniffle as you fought to hold the tears at bay.
“¿Cari? ¿Qué pasa?” Jenni’s voice, now concerned, crackled through your phone’s speakers again. After a moment, you felt Jana’s hand slide onto your knee comfortingly. You turned to her and saw that she had reached her other hand out, palm up. You handed the phone to her and watched as she immediately brought it to her ear.
“Hola, Jenni. Es Jana.” she greeted her former teammate before launching into a stream of spanish too quick for you to try to follow. You zoned out to the sound of Jana’s voice, focusing on deep breaths to unclench the tight knot of tears high in your throat.
You had managed to relax yourself considerably by the time Jana brought your attention back with a light squeeze to your knee where her hand still rested. You looked up to see her holding the phone between the two of you, an expectant look on her face.
“Jenni asked if you are ready to tell what’s wrong.” You nodded and took a deep breath.
“Alexia hates me. I don’t know what I did, but she hates me and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“How do you know, what is she doing? Cari, Alexia is shy and competetivo. Maybe she doesn’t know she is hurting you.”
“No, Jen.” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “She knows. If it’s just the two us she will ignore me, she can’t even look at me. When we are with the team she tells me everything I do is wrong, my touch, my passes, my shots. I know I am not as good as everyone else here, but I’m trying and none of it is enough for her. I can see how she is patient and kind with the young ones, so I know it is about me.”
“Es verdad, I haven’t been in the practices, but the others have been worried about it. I didn’t know it was so bad, but Ale has been muy dura.” Jana chimed in, and you were a little surprised to hear her mention the team was concerned.
“I thought I wanted to play here, but I can’t do this for three years. I just want to be back at Tigres.” you admitted.
“Lo siento, Y/n. Lo siento mucho. I wish I was there to hug you.” you could tell she meant it by the waver in her voice, and it made you miss her even more fiercely.
You talked through everything you could think of, all your interactions with Alexia, every idea you had eliminated for what went wrong. Jenni and Jana alternated between outrage and murmured words of comfort, but mostly just listened as you vented everything you had been holding in for weeks. By the end, you actually felt better. Whether it was the release of finally letting everything go, or the relief of hearing two people who knew Alexia agree that something wasn’t right, a weight was definitely lifted from your chest.
“So what should I do?” You finally asked Jenni. “How can I fix whatever this is?”
“Oh, nena, you shouldn’t fix this, it’s Alexia who needs to. Quandó ella escuche lo que tengo--”
“Jenni, no porfa! You can’t talk to her about this.” You loved Jenni, hot head and all, but you couldn’t let her go off on Alexia about this. “Thank you, I know you would do that for me, but I need to do this. I don’t want her to think-- I can’t ruin—”
“Vale, I understand, cari. I won’t say anything, prometo.” Jenni saved you from struggling to explain further. In the pause that followed, Jana spoke suddenly from next to you.
“I think you need to talk to Ale. O sea, if you want to understand what is in her head. Maybe Mapi knows, but,” she stopped with a shrug, and Jenni finished for her,
“Only Ale knows what Ale is thinking. Jana is right.” You nodded, even though Jenni couldn’t see you. She sighed over the phone, then continued. “It might be easier if you are gentle. Even if she doesn’t deserve it.”
“Gracias, Jenni.” You were suddenly very tired. “Te amo mucho. I wish I was back with you.”
“Yo también, nena. Te amo mucho. I am here if you need me.”
“I know. Good night.”
“Good night.” You hung up the phone and placed it on the table.
Jana stood from the chair next to you and held a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you gently to your feet, then wrapped you in a hug. You immediately softened into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She held you close for a long moment, then released you into a light hold.
“I know you have Ingrid, but I’m here for you too, Y/n. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’m glad you are at Barça and I want to be your friend.” The earnest look in her eyes as she spoke nearly had your own tearing up again. You tugged her back into a hug, squeezing her fiercely before you let go.
“Gracias, Jana. I want to be your friend too. Thank you.” You could feel a smile break across your face, and she grinned in return. “I should let you go home before it is too late. Are you okay to drive?”
“Yes, gracias. It is a short drive, we are almost neighbors. You can visit me soon and I will show you!”
You walked Jana back down to her car, exchanging numbers before you said your goodbyes. Despite everything, you felt a glow of hope for your future at Barcelona. At least you had a new friend and some kind of plan.
--
You were halfway through your pre-practice routine the following morning when your phone chimed with a message. It was Jana.
Jana: ¡Hola! Do you need a ride this morning?
Jana: Because I made you leave your car
Jana: Not sorry for that 😋🚙
You had completely forgotten about your car, so you were grateful for both the reminder and the offer.
You: Yes, thank you! I can walk to you if that is easier.
Jana: Do not worry, I will pick you up. 20 minutes?
You: Perfect
True to her word, Jana picked you up outside 20 minutes later. The drive was much more lighthearted than the previous night. You asked about Jana’s english, curious about why it was so good when she had spent her whole career in Spain. She started to explain that it was part of the curriculum at La Masia, but then cracked a smile and confessed that it was mostly because she was dating Jill and it was much easier than learning Dutch.
You had been curious about the rumors around the two, and seeing the way Jana lit up made you glad to hear they were true. You said as much to the defender, which led to her telling the story of how they met during the rest of the drive. The sweet story left you both in a good mood as you pulled up to the training center.
You climbed out of the car and grabbed your bag, laughing with Jana as she came up next to you and bumped into your shoulder as you started to walk together. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dread at the thought of walking into training, and you weren’t desperately searching for any sight of Ingrid. Jana seemed to be noticing the same thing.
“You will have to let me take you home more often if it puts you in this good of a mood!” She said, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.
You were about to respond when another voice beat you to it.
“Jana. Y/N.”
You froze, looking up to see Alexia approaching. Jana squeezed your shoulder where her hand rested. The captain had an unreadable expression on her face, eyes darting from you to Jana, then back to you.
“Hola, Capitana.” You said, lowering your gaze as her eyes met yours.
“Can I talk to you?” It was clear that the question was directed at you. When you didn’t immediately respond, she spoke again, voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Jana, vé sin nosotros. Iremos pronto.”
Jana caught your eye and you nodded slightly. You appreciated her willingness to look out for you, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble, not to mention you wanted to speak to Alexia anyway. The defender gave you a final squeeze to your arm before walking past Alexia toward the training center.
The two of you stood in silence. For a moment, your mind raced to guess what she had stopped you to say, but you pushed the worry down. With the way your relationship was going, it hardly seemed worth predicting what her latest criticism would be. You stared over Alexia’s shoulder, waiting.
“Jana has a girlfriend.” It was maybe the last thing you expected the midfielder to say, and you were caught completely off guard.
“What? I—I know.” You sputtered out. Jana’s last comment jumped into your mind, and when Alexia didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to continue and clarify. “What Jana said… She didn’t mean what it sounded like. She gave me a ride home last night and then this morning.”
“Bueno.” Alexia finally said, quieter than before.
“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, voice flat.
“Ah...” she hesitated. “No.”
The blonde turned and walked away as you watched. The good mood you had only a few minutes earlier was gone, leaving behind a sort of hollow feeling. Jana had been the one to drive you, the one with her arm around your shoulders, and the one to make a silly joke about taking you home, but still, Alexia assumed the worst of you and you only. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot for thinking you could talk anything out with the captain. A surge of hopelessness washed over you as you imagined her scrutinizing every interaction you had with your teammates in addition to your skills on the pitch, and you felt sick. You walked to where you left your car last night, pulling out your phone to text Jonatan.
You: Lo siento, estoy enferma y no puedo ir a practicar.
--
Once at home, you buried yourself under the covers on your bed. You still felt awful from the interaction with Alexia, but you were overwhelmed by a wave of other emotions-- guilt for missing practice, anger at yourself for letting a personal issue get in the way of your career, and a deep fear that things were not going to get better.
Your phone was vibrating in the other room, but you ignored it, certain it wasn’t anyone you wanted to talk to right now. Ingrid was at the practice you just left, and it was far too early for Jenni or your family to be awake in their timezones.
As you lay bundled in your bed, the adrenaline from your high emotions faded, and you found yourself suddenly fighting heavy eyelids. Slowly, you faded into sleep.
--
You awoke to a loud pounding on your apartment door. Disoriented, you dragged yourself out of bed, padding out into the living room as the noise continued. You flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open, coming suddenly face to face with your insistent visitor.
“Alexia?”
The blonde shouldered her way past you without a word, marching into your living room and looking wildly around. You closed the door and locked it before turning back to see Alexia peering into your bedroom. You snapped.
“Alexia! What the hell are you doing?”
“Looking for Ingrid!” She turned to snarl at you, eyes cold.
“What? Ingrid’s not here, what are you talking about?” You were genuinely confused, and Alexia barreling her way through your apartment wasn’t helping. You reached out and caught her by the elbow as she made to walk into your bedroom. “Stop, please! Can you just explain what’s going on?”
Alexia shook your hand off her arm, but stayed put.
“I’m not stupid. You show up here while Mapi is injured and try to steal her girlfriend. I see you every day at practice all over Ingrid. You don’t talk to anyone except her, you follow her around, you take her out for coffee, all while my best friend isn’t there to see. At first I thought you were just friendly, but it’s only with her.” Her chest heaved as she paused to take a breath. “Then I realized today you skipped practice and convinced Ingrid to join you and I knew.”
Your head was spinning and you were certain your jaw was nearly on the floor. You understood Alexia’s words, but struggled to comprehend what she was saying. As it finally clicked, a burst of laughter rose up in your chest. Alexia looked on, eyes narrowed, as you found yourself almost giggling.
“I’m, I’m sorry. It’s not funny!” You managed, pulling yourself together with a deep breath. “It’s just… you’ve been making me feel awful for weeks now because you think I’m trying to steal Ingrid from your friend? Did you even think to bring it up to Mapi herself?”
The blonde made no move to respond.
“I’ve been friends with Ingrid since we were 17. Mapi knows that. If we had any interest in each other we would have sorted it out long before now. You’re completely right that I’ve been following her around and sticking by her side, but you’re completely wrong about why. God, Alexia, I just came from halfway across the world to play for a team full of people I’ve looked up to for years. I miss my family and Jenni and the rest of my old teammates. A month ago, Ingrid was the only person I knew in this entire stupid country!”
You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying to calm your racing heart. Your body felt like you had just played 90 minutes of a championship final. When you eventually opened your eyes again, it was to the sight of Alexia still rooted to the same spot. She had hardly moved a muscle other than to drop her gaze to the floor, back and shoulders. rigid with tension. You left her in the bedroom doorway and walked over to sink into the same kitchen chair Jana had occupied last night.
“Y/n, I—” she started, but paused at the sound of the lock, then the knob turning on the door. It swung open.
“Y/n! Sorry to use your spare key, but you weren’t answering my texts! I would have come sooner, but I had a dentist’s appointment I had to leave practice for. Are you okay? Are you sick? Jana said you seemed fine until you talked to Alexia this morning, did she say something?”
“I’m okay.” Ingrid’s gaze caught you when you spoke, then rose to look past you as she responded.
“Good, I-- Alexia?”
“Alexia was just leaving.” You spoke before the blonde could. “Are you okay to drive home, Capitana?”
“Sí. Yes.” She answered quietly, finally moving away from your bedroom and towards the door to leave. Before she stepped out, she paused to turn your way. “Lo siento, Y/n. I will fix this.”
When the door shut behind her, you dropped your head into your arms on the table.
Part 2
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youaresimplylovely · 7 months ago
Text
Fashion n' Cars (Part Four)
Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her? Warnings: we still have overprotective maxie and a lil cutie maxie <3 fluff!! Fc: Emily Ratajkwoski Proofread!! A/N: woohoo! happy 500 followersss, love u all so much <33 im so happy that we reached this far and i can't wait to continue writing for u guys and giving u the best <3 and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^ https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79
part one part two part three
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ynverstappen
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maxverstappen1 YOU SAID I WAS GONNA BE WITH YOU WHEN YOU GO TO LONDON 😐
ynverstappen had to take an expert maxverstappen1 you're replacing me with Lewis??? ynverstappen it depends
lewishamilton had fun in London with you darling :)
maxverstappen1 can't wait for the british grand prix so i can crash into you :) ynverstappen thanks lew lew!! maxverstappen1 lew lew my ass
user5 SHUT UP LEWIS AND YN DATE IN LONDON??????
f1 😍
maxverstappen1 are you serious?
ynverstappen love ya f1 <33 user3 AAAA F1 ADMIN SUPPORTING LEWIS AND YN maxverstappen1 no. admin does not. and so do i.
ynverstappen
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ynverstappen maybe if i don't wear rb merch my brother won't win 😋
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maxverstappen1 yeah sure 🥱
landonorris WILL YOU BE MY FUTURE MRS. NORRIS 😍😍
maxverstappen1 i'll kill you before the wedding. landonorris what :( but then i can't marry her!?!? maxverstappen1 exactly.
charles_leclerc red is the only way to go mon amour 😘
maxverstappen1 it also means danger.
georgerussel63 wear merc, we'll be matching 🥰
maxverstappen1 why are there so many british guys here.
user8 WE LOVE OVERPROTECTIVE MAXIE :<< <33
f1
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f1 our podium for this weekend 🤩
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ynverstappen awh :( i wore ferrari merch but he still won (congrats to carlos tho <3)
maxverstappen1 that's called karma. carlossainz55 muchas gracias hermosa
lewishamilton thanks for not crashing into me @maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1 you're walking on thin ice.
landonorris i sprayed you champagne brother in law, can i marry your sister (2) ?
maxverstappen1 no (2) pierregasly since when do you know how to use "(2)" maxverstappen1 i'm not that old.
ynverstappen
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ynverstappen appreciation post to the first man in my life other than my daddy @josverstappen7 <3
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maxverstappen1 that's better, i love you schatje.
ynverstappen love u too maxie <333
ynverstappen
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ynverstappen back in the uk but with some french guy ><
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TAGLIST
And again if u want to be added u can answer the gform or reply hereee <33
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