#rain plays dream team

[rainbogen]

10/10 game.

[eileennatural]

actually i get why roy kent's attitude sucks all the time it sucks so bad to make a sport central to your identity and dedicate your life to it and love it and then have that very same sport fuck your body up so bad that you have to quit and also have chronic pain for life lol

[gloomwitchwrites]

What if prompt for the 141: In the Rain

"It's pouring rain, why are you here?" Or something to this nature. I love a confession in the rain, stuck in the rain, kissing in the rain, all of it! Lol

I too love a good confession in the rain. That final scene in Pride & Prejudice is still peak confession in the rain trope for me. I think about it all the time. I think about it on repeat. I want it tattooed on my eyelids. When I think "in the rain," I think of that scene.

So, these aren't smutty by any means but one (maybe two) have some spice to them. They are full of love and longing. There are emotions, angst, and lots of kissing. It's our soaked to the bone 141 boys confessing their hearts in the pouring rain.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief mention of alcohol, suggestive themes, grief/mourning, love confessions, kissing, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings, intimacy, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

There are few things that John Price indulges in.

Cigars. Whiskey. The thought of you as his woman.

That last one plagues him. It burrows in. Makes a home every night to flood his dreams with images of you. John awakens each morning with you on his mind—and then you linger the rest of the day, crawling forward to say hello when he least expects it.

John sits on a barstool in a dive bar, contemplating life in the bottom of his whiskey glass. It’s the middle of fucking nowhere, but that’s the point. This isn’t a celebration or a job well done. This is a “thank fuck it’s over” drink.

The dive bar is dark and smoky. A jukebox in the corner endlessly rotates between eighties rock and country music. Next to the jukebox is a pool table where a group of three play. Otherwise, the place is entirely empty.

John knocks back the rest of his whiskey, signaling the bartender for a refill. He’s only half-listening to the conversations around him.

Laswell, MacTavish, Garrick, and Riley are all here. Simon is silent, staring off into space as the other three have an animated conversation. You’re here too, sandwiched between MacTavish and Riley. You’re not speaking, but you are listening, nodding your head at all the right moments.

But you look tired. Like you’re about ready to pack it up and call it a night. It’s deserved. This mission sucked. It was brutal. Tough. A complete shit-eating stink of a job. You aren’t part of the team. Not really. Laswell dragged you in last second, and John is happy that she did. Otherwise, he’d never have met you.

And that would be a tragedy.

John only has eyes for you. It is a sweet tooth that cannot be satiated. He’s been a bit reserved in how he’s approached you, but you always have a soft smile for him or a cheeky remark. It’s devolved into flirting at times, and at points so blatant that everyone else chimes in.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you yawn, pushing your empty glass to the edge of the bar. The bartender walks by and snags it, whisking it away to be deposited into the sink.

This is it. You’re about to walk away. John will likely never see you again unless Laswell decides to call on you. This might very well be his only chance.

You slip off your barstool, and John abruptly stands, his leg smacking into Laswell’s stool. Everyone—including Simon—turns in John’s direction.

He coughs. Clears his throat. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he says quickly.

MacTavish smirks and elbows Gas in the arm. The two men exchange a knowing glance before they both raise their eyebrows at John. MacTavish even shakes his shoulders a bit. John shoots them a cold look over your shoulder. They stifle their laughter behind their glasses.

You don’t notice at all. Your focus is on John, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

The entrance of the dive consists of one interior door, a small entryway, and an exterior door. As the two of you enter the small entryway, a crack of thunder erupts overhead. You pause, staring out the small window on the exterior door. It’s not pouring, but the rain is steady. Getting caught it in for any period of time will likely result in soaked clothes.

You turn slightly in his direction, and John is suddenly aware of how cramped the space is.

“You don’t need to walk me to my car,” you say softly, gesturing toward the downpour. “Not with the rain.”

John shrugs. “I want to.”

It’s true. He does. But there is an ulterior motive here. This is his one chance to have a final goodbye or a new start.

You smile softly, gaze flicking down to the floor before returning to his face. John’s cheeks heat—and it’s ridiculous. He’s a grown fucking man. He doesn’t get flustered. But this space is small. It is far too cramped. John is nearly on top of you.

Beneath those long eyelashes are your gentle eyes. It’s a look you only give him. Your lips part slightly. They’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. He wants nothing more than to lean down and close the distance.

“Okay,” you reply with a teasing laugh, opening the door.

The earthy scent of rain hits him first and then the pattering of the falling rain comes next. You slip out the door and stand close to the building under the small awning, attempting to stay out of the rain. John follows behind, coming up next to you.

Your smile is sweet as you gaze up into the dark sky. But then you turn to him, and that smile morphs into something devious.

“Should we race to the car?” you ask, as if conspiring.

John grins. “Think you can beat me?”

You laugh. “An old man like you? Absolutely.”

John can’t help but smile back, nudging you with his elbow. “Not that old.”

“What do I get if I win?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“A kiss,” says John automatically. It rolls right off his tongue. There is no way for him to take it back. And he doesn’t want to. “What do I get if I win?”

You wait a beat. And then answer.

“A kiss,” you reply slowly.

A kiss.

John blinks, his mind momentarily stuttering out. Your grin widens, and then you’re off, sprinting into the rain and to the car.

John nearly trips as he jogs after you. The gravel is slick and the rain splatters against his jacket. He isn’t all that interested in racing. John is only watching you, and the way your ass bounces as you make for the car. Your curves are lovely. He imagines opening the rear door and pushing you into the back seat, only to drag you into his lap to take whatever he wants.

You make it before he does, but John is right behind, nearly sliding to a stop in the wet gravel. You turn toward him, grinning. Pieces of hair stick to the sides of your face. John cannot help himself. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you in.

You don’t resist. You surrender.

John’s mouth crashes against yours and you open beautifully for him. There is no one kiss. There are many. Multitudes. It is endless. It is rain-laced. Whiskey-drenched. John might have the buzz of alcohol in his veins but you are quickly replacing it.

Your lips part and John slides his tongue inside. Your hands grab at him, fingers digging in. The two of you are pressed together, rain falling to drench clothing and skin.

With a low groan, John pushes you up against the car, intensifying his kisses. You eagerly greet him, accepting them all, returning them in equal measure. You are just as desperate. Just as hungry. Time is an illusion—and it isn’t until you shiver beneath him that John pulls away, aware that the two of you are now soaked through.

“Why are you still here?” you ask.

“You don’t know?” he replies, his hand cupping your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“It’s pouring, John.”

“I know.” You smile, and John goes in for one more kiss. “Do you not feel this? Am I the only one?”

You shake your head. “I feel it. Everywhere, John. I feel you everywhere.”

“Let’s go. Get out of here.”

“Right now?”

John’s grip tightens and you gasp, hips pressing against his.

“Right now.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The rain is light but steady. It falls from the cloudy sky to patter against your umbrella.

The graveyard is empty, and yet you knew Simon would be here. He always is on the anniversary of Johnny’s death. Like clockwork. It’s routine for him. A ritual.

Simon’s back is to you, his head bent as he stands in front of Johnny’s grave. There is no body there. It’s ornamental. Something for family and friends. There are fresh flowers next to the headstone.

You have no idea how long Simon has been out here. Simon has no umbrella with him, and the hood of his jacket is off. He’ll catch a chill like this, which is why you came. Seeing him like this is always difficult, and since Johnny’s passing, Simon has grown more attached.

He is always checking in on you—always near. You’d call it protectiveness but it feels more like obligation. A duty. Most days, Simon appears to be on the cusp of telling you something, revealing a secret that he’s itching to confess. You don’t know what it might be. Couldn’t take a guess. But you have thought about it. You have imagined all sorts of possibilities.

The two of you are always finding the other. Always reconnecting. Always reaching out. If it’s not him, it’s you. Perhaps it’s Johnny’s death that has brought this on. Whatever it might be, Simon is closer to you than he’s ever been, and sometimes it frightens you.

It feels like more.

“I brought you an umbrella,” you say to Simon’s back.

He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder. Simon’s gaze sweeps from the ground and then lands on you. His hair is wet and droplets of water speckle his face like freckles.

Simon fully turns toward you.

The rain picks up a bit, soaking Simon further. You rush to him, holding your umbrella over his head, cutting off the rain. The two of you stand under it in silence, simply staring at each other. Time stretches, and then Simon’s hand rises, wrapping around your own where you hold to the handle.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

You swallow, and gather your courage. “You shouldn’t grieve alone.”

Simon’s brow softens. “I’m supposed to be the one looking after you.”

“I never asked you to,” you reply.

“But Johnny did.”

You start, eyes widening slightly. “What do you mean?”

Simon licks his lips. A droplet of water drips from the tip of his nose. “I made a promise. To Johnny. I made a promise to him.”

“What promise?” you whisper as the rain picks up more. The rain strikes the top of the umbrella in loud patters that nearly drown out your voice.

Another droplet falls from Simon’s nose. He leans in slightly, and the movement is confusing. It’s too intimate, like he wants to close the distance.

“I promised that I would—” he abruptly cuts off, swallowing. Simon’s gaze darts from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

“What is it, Simon?”

He sighs. “Fuck it,” he growls, shredding any distance there might have been between your bodies.

Simon claims your lips, kissing you so completely that you’re momentarily stunned. You taste the rain. Mint. A slight hint of smoke. You return the kiss, not pushing him away or pulling back. You open for him, accepting it all, and Simon continues to take, his free arm wrapping around your waist to draw you closer.

Even though he’s drenched, Simon is incredibly warm. It’s unfair how he can be an inferno in this downpour.

The graveyard is forgotten. The rain is a distant. There is only Simon’s lips, and the groan he makes when you return each kiss in equal enthusiasm.

Simon goes in for a quick nip before drawing away. It leaves you breathless and wanton.

“Was that part of the promise?” you ask, only half-joking.

Simon shrugs. “In a way.” You arch an eyebrow and Simon smiles softly. “I told Johnny I’d make a move. And now I have.”

“Yes,” you agree, heat blooming in your cheeks and your core. “You have.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

There is no turning back.

You made a choice. Kyle made a choice.

This is how it is.

You don’t want to be at the airport. You don’t want to leave. This entire situation is shit. But Kyle seemed willing to let you go. He’s not here. He didn’t beg you to stay. He didn’t try to convince you that all he wants in life is you.

That’s all you need. To be wanted. To be loved.

After all of this—after everything, and Kyle isn’t here.

You’re not mad. Not really. You are both adults. You both have made a choice. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean you don’t understand. Because at the end of the day, you do. Truly.

Sighing, you haul your suitcase over the curb and on the sidewalk. The Uber that brought you here is already pulling away to go pick up someone else. The airport is packed on the inside, and the rain that falls from the sky in sheets. You have a coat, and the hood is up, but what you really need is an umbrella.

Already, you feel the water seeping into the unprotected places. Rain does that sometimes. Trickles in where it isn’t wanted.

You start to pull your suitcase behind you. A wheel catches in a small crack, and it nearly takes you down with it. Stumbling forward, you put a hand out to catch your fall. You expect your bare palm to land on concrete. To burn with pain.

But you don’t make it to the ground. You don’t touch it at all.

There are arms around you. They are strong. And somehow so damn familiar it’s frightening.

Then, you’re being lifted, guided back to your feet. Those strong arms ease you onto solid ground, and then you’re turning to thank the stranger that’s saved you from falling face first into the concrete.

But it is no stranger.

“Kyle,” you breathe, staring into the face of the man you’ve loved for years now.

Something breaks. Shatters.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Kyle hasn’t let you go. His arms are still around you. Your hands grasp his biceps, and his jacket is slick with rain. His hood is not up. And yours has fallen at some point. Already, the rain is soaking your hair. Strands of it stick to your face.

“Coming to right a wrong,” he says. Your lips part but Kyle shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t fight hard enough. I let you slip through the cracks.”

Kyle draws you in a bit closer. The people passing by and the cars are distant.

“I should have told you ‘I love you’ every day. I should have been present.”

“Kyle—”

Your next words are stolen. Kyle closes the distance, and then you’re wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, sinking into the kiss.

You can’t leave now.

You can’t.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The rain falls gently from the sky.

Johnny grins, staring up into it, opening his mouth. His tongue is out to capture the droplets. You laugh, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, going in for a quick kiss on his cheek.

As you draw back, one of Johnny’s hands shoots out, snagging your arm. You playfully yelp, and swat at him, thinking that Johnny will let you go. He’s flirty, and sweet, but there is nothing more to it.

At least, you didn’t think so.

But Johnny’s gaze is heated, and the way he holds you against him is far too intimate to be anything other than what it is.

“Johnny,” you laugh, trying to play it off, but he remains firm.

His smile faulters slightly but it’s not a frown. It’s a heated stare. His gaze is on your lips, and you can see the desire there. What would happen if you went for it? If you kissed him?

“What are we doing?” he asks. “Can’t I have you?”

Startled, everything leaves your head. “What?”

Johnny’s gaze flicks up, and those gorgeous eyes drown you—submerging you in his depths. “Why are we stepping around this? We want each other.”

You do want him, but you thought it was mostly one-sided.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, softly.

Johnny smirks, and then he’s lifting you up into the air, placing you on top of the low stone wall. “Should I use my words?” he asks, fingers sliding underneath your rain-drenched shirt. He is warm, and his touch heats your skin. “Or should I show you with my body?”

Johnny nips at your bottom lip as his hands ascend. One slides between your breasts just as his lips meet yours. Your core clenches, and then you’re grabbing for him, touching him as much as he’s touching you.

The two of you are in the Scottish countryside. There are no people around. Just the two of you, and rolling green hills.

Johnny slots himself between your legs, and you reach beneath his kilt, finding him hard and wanting. He hisses, and then groans when you stroke him.

Everything is warm. Everything is rough.

It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, or that it’s a bit cold. You allow Johnny to shove articles of clothing aside, to find the places where you’re needing him to be. His touch is a brand, and you love how it feels, pulsing through your loins like an overheated engine.

“Johnny,” you gasp into the rain, fingers threading through his hair as he goes to his knees to taste between your thighs.

There is only heavy breath. A twisting of pleasure.

When he finally brings your bodies together, there is nothing but him. Nothing but you. Just two people finding each other.

The rain is nothing.

It isn’t even cold anymore.

Johnny is all heat. And you are burning for him.

taglist:

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@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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[katiascraft]

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[ceesimz]

Wilted

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení

Another (13k wc) one shot, read the main story here!

Statistically, in your sport, you were one of the lucky ones. You had made it to 27 without spending more than two weeks at once out with an injury. Nothing too extreme, or painful. Just knocks here and there, a few minor muscle injuries, and the likes. 

Unfortunately, in this line of work, a bad injury was inevitable. In just one movement, it felt like your Champion's League dream was over.

Should you have signalled that you needed to come off earlier, when you took your first knock just halfway through the second half, maybe the game wouldn’t have ended the way it had. Maybe if you weren’t so naively determined, you wouldn’t have ended up face down on the grass hours away from home in Munich, writhing in pain.

The first leg of the Champion’s League quarter-final was bound to be a tough game, especially playing away at such a dominant Bayern team. None of your teammates could have expected it to be so physical though, it was uncharacteristically abnormal for both teams. The tussle you had found yourself in when you had received a sharp, fast knee from side-on against your thigh really should have been the end of your game. But you weren’t one to give up, especially when the score was still 0-0, the tension had to come to an eventual end for one team at some point and you wanted to be there to make that happen. You ignored the dull ache in your muscle and continued playing.

You were too eager though, playing with too much pent-up frustration to just get a goal, that you were involving yourself in unnecessary battles and making unrealistic runs. One of those occasions had to go wrong at some point, and it absolutely did.

With a long ball thrown over the top of the Bayern defence by Patri, you managed to outpace Eriksson and were comfortably at least half a metre in front. The ball was yours, you’d shrugged off the defender that had been on your tail relentlessly for eighty minutes so far, and this could be the deciding play of the first leg. This was your moment.

You wanted to show you were giving it your all, wanted to show how badly you needed this UWCL trophy after years of failure with another team in a different German town. You wanted to prove that you could do it all, leave nothing on the pitch, and come out on top with the iconic gold medal to show for it after getting your team to the final.

Except, with the harsh cold rain battering down, the ball glided after its first bounce out of your reach, causing you to overstretch. After that, you clattered heavily against the wet grass as a searing pain ripped through your leg. The excruciating cry you let out could be heard throughout the stadium, a grimace on everyone’s faces as it didn’t take a professional to know that the injury was a bad one. One of your hands fell to the epicentre of the pain on the back of your thigh, the other hand grabbing a fistful of grass as you sobbed in agony.

The ball was out of play anyway, allowing the referee to appropriately halt the game as players from both your team and Bayern came over. There were hands on your back and words uttered your way, but the panic rising through your chest and the ringing in your ears paired with the pain still running rife through you were too much to comprehend at once. The world felt so big and overwhelming, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and pray it all went away. The pain, the people around you, the fans watching with their eyes and their phones, the implications of what this injury meant. You couldn’t do this. 

“Hey, it’s me, it’s Ingrid, come back to me.” 

That voice broke through the brick wall of your thoughts, one gentle hand rubbing up and down your back as the other brushed a few damp wisps of hair out of your face. Vaguely, in the background, you registered an authoritative voice ushering everyone away before the brightness of the stadium floodlights dimmed behind your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you in that moment, your teammates had formed somewhat of a wall to save you from the view of the fans.

Another figure kneeled beside you, murmuring quietly with the person next to them before a soft, familiar hand took yours from the back of your leg and squeezed it comfortingly. It's quite clear to any player that you've got a hamstring injury, and the extent to which the discomfort you're feeling is concerning for everybody on the pitch. The hearts of the two people that love you most break for you.

“Cariño, we know you're in pain, but we need you to come back to us. We want to help.” It's Alexia speaking now; she's got your hand in hers and the touch brings you back down a little. “The physios will be here soon.”

You reply with a minute nod as that's all you can manage, your cries slowing not out of choice, but exhaustion. The adrenaline had kept you running all game, especially after the clash earlier, but now you had hit a wall, or the ground rather, and everything had come crashing down on top of you. 

Alexia and Ingrid notice your lack of noise and take it as a good sign, both of them shooting a glance at each other before the Norwegian takes the reins.

“Hey.” Ingrid said, her hand sliding from your back to your shoulder in an effort to roll you over, even just a little, so she could properly see your face. “What’s hurting? Something in your leg?”

You gave a pitiful nod, allowing the defender to lay you on your back, but you pulled the collar of your jersey over your eyes in a last attempt to hide away from it all. 

“Is it your hamstring?” Alexia asked, her free hand falling to your hip and stroking the skin available with her thumb where your shirt had been lifted. A final nod from you confirmed Alexia’s worst fears; you had most likely torn your hamstring. The severity of it would determine how long you could be out for, but it wasn’t looking good.

Before she could say anything else, she was surrounded by not only the Barça physios, but the medical team at the ground too, a stretcher placed down just in case behind her. She knew, realistically, you would end up having to use it, but she also knew the mental repercussions it would have for you.

There was a certain way you processed things, and it was obviously different to the majority of the world. In this moment, where you lay in agony on a football pitch, you knew you were injured. But you hadn’t accepted that fact yet, hadn’t processed it or allowed it to be the truth. You could still reject that fate for yourself - hide behind your shirt, try to ignore the medical staff all around you, the concerned looks on everyone’s face, and shut everything out. The second you were transferred to the stretcher, you would have no choice but to come to terms with what had happened to you. 

Alexia knew what you’re feeling now would pale in comparison to how you would certainly feel later that evening. In a hotel room in a different country from home, crutches by your bedside, a compression sleeve tight around your thigh, and ice atop that. Words of condolences fired your way, sorrow present in all the eyes that landed upon you, nevermind the throbbing pain that would persist. Constant reminders you couldn’t escape from would surely ruin you.

You still had time to reject it, pretend it wasn’t your reality. 

“It-it’s not that b-bad.” You tried to argue, abruptly sitting up and wiping your tears before prying people’s hands off of you. “Let me up.”

“No, you can’t get up. Let the doctors do their job first, you don’t want to make anything worse, okay?” Ingrid lightly pushes you to lay back down, only for you to shove her hands away.

“No! I’m fine, I can walk it off. Lea-”

“Cariño, listen to me.” Alexia shuffled up closer, softly holding your face in her hands so that you had no choice but to listen to her. “You are injured. You have torn your hamstring, and it is very dangerous for you to do anything on that leg now. You will make it worse. Listen to us, to the doctors, and let us help. We are all here for you and we are not going anywhere. Please.”

To some, Alexia’s words might come across as blunt and harsh, rather than caring with your best intentions in mind. But she did have your best intentions; the moment required some tough love, if she sugar-coated anything then it would only cause more damage in the long-run.

“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered, clutching at her forearm as you cried into your other hand.

“I know, lay back and they will give you something for it.” You found comfort in her voice and touch, making you feel safe and secure enough to follow her words and allow the medics to do what they needed.

In the blink of an eye, it seems, you’re in the away team physio room. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle around you, but at the same time you’re alone. No one is holding your hand, no one is reeling off words of reassurance, there’s not a soul at your side. It’s just doctors wanting to get their job done for the day. You had no idea how much of the game was left, so you didn’t even know when you could get a reprieve. 

That horrible feeling of panic was rising through you like a tsunami wave. You felt trapped, claustrophobic, and to top it all off you couldn’t even see a light at the end of the tunnel, whose walls were quickly closing on you. 

Alexia had lied to you. She had said that her and Ingrid were there for you and weren't going anywhere. But nobody was here with you right now. You were alone.

Anytime one of the doctors tried to talk to you, their words weren’t registering. Anytime they tried to put their hands on you, you flinched, only causing you more mental and physical pain. None of them could bridge the gap to help you. And, considering they were doctors, not a single one could see the severity of your emotional distress. It only led to tensions rising as they got antsy and irritated, and you got more and more worked up.

Alone. Trapped. Hurting. Alone.

That mantra circled dangerously around your mind. Alone: nobody was here with you. Trapped: you physically couldn't walk, you didn't know the stadium, and you wouldn't know where to go if you did. Hurting: the doctors hadn't given you any pain relief, Alexia had lied once more. Alone.

Alone, trapped, hurting, a-

Alone only until some time later, the door slammed open, and this time someone in the room did have the right to be angry.

“What is going on in here? Why is no one helping her!?” Mapi cried out, rushing over to where you were borderline hyperventilating into your hands and everybody else stood, watching. “Preciosa, it’s Mapi, I…”

She didn’t know what to do with the state you were in, it wasn’t something she had ever come across before. How could she help you if qualified doctors couldn't? 

You seemed inconsolable and the panic running riot through you slowly began to seep into her, which wouldn’t help either of you. Mapi had no experience with anything of this severity, she'd seen Ingrid have panic attacks before but that was years ago, she hadn't had any in a long time. This didn't seem like a panic attack, and if it was a meltdown, she certainly had never dealt with one of those before. She'd only seen the aftermath of one, and it wasn't even her that had dealt with it.

It felt like all she could do was bide her time and hope that Alexia or Ingrid came in ASAP, but she knew she had to act sooner. By doing what, she wasn't sure. But she had to start somewhere.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Her eyes looked frantically around the room, noting that all the people that should be helping you were only staring with exasperated looks on their faces. “Hey, everyone out! Get out!”

They shook their heads as they left, filing out one by one and murmuring between themselves. Meanwhile, your state of mind hadn’t changed and Mapi’s concerns only grew. Cautiously, she tried to take your hands away from your face but somehow your strength was too much for her and they didn’t budge an inch. The worry Mapi felt grew tenfold and soon there was a tremor to her own hands. She felt like time was running out, as if you would implode the longer you spent in this detrimental state.

So, she decided on a different approach.

“Hey, sit up for me, preciosa. Come on, I need you to sit up.” 

To her relief, you followed her instructions easily this time, and she moved you to sit up and swing your legs carefully over the edge of the bed whilst being mindful of your injury. Once in position, Mapi clambered onto the bed and sat behind you, her arms coming up to wrap around your chest and hug you tightly. She had learnt once, from Ingrid, that pressure helped to ease anxiety, and if her assumptions were correct, that was the primary emotion screwing you up right now. 

“There you go, I’m here. Take some breaths now, in and out, it is just me and you.” She kept her embrace tight, baring her weight behind it and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a repetitive, reassuring motion. “We need to slow down, cariño, slow down that breathing. I’ll do it with you, hm?”

For the next minute or so, Mapi took exaggerated breaths behind you in an attempt to ground you, and it worked. At some point along the way, one of your hands had dropped from your face to Mapi’s on your left arm, covering it in a silent gesture of gratitude in a moment where you couldn’t verbalise it. It didn’t take long at all for you to come back to the room, but neither of you moved and instead opted to stay still. This was comforting, it was easy, and it was familiar. 

Even after five minutes had passed by, Mapi didn’t leave. Her next approach was to distract you from all that had happened, and luckily for her she was blessed with a skill that for the first time in her life actually came in handy. Mapi could talk forever, so that’s what she did. She spoke about what she’d gotten up to recently, the newest coffee shop that had opened near the training ground, and somehow she even started relaying memories from her childhood. She spoke about anything and everything, and it worked. 

Finally, you had removed both hands from your face and the tears had finally dried up. You were leaning back against Mapi, head resting on her shoulder as she showed off the many tattoos that were scattered across her hands and up her arms. Your physical pain had taken a backseat for all the mental torment you were going through earlier, but now it was returning in full force. You didn't feel able to talk just yet though, so failed to bring it up.

“You feeling okay now?” Mapi hummed quietly, you nodding somewhat uncertainly a few moments later. She gave a tight-lipped smile and kissed your cheek, tucking her chin over your shoulder and delving the pair of you into silence. There wasn't much else to be said or done.

Not so long after, commotion could be heard down the corridor outside the door and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

“-should be in there, helping her!” The door swung open, revealing a confused Alexia. “Mapi, what's going on?”

“Come in and close the door. Leave them out there for now.” Mapi said calmly, squeezing your hand after sensing you tense up a little.

Alexia did as asked - she closed the door and came over to the pair of you. Her eyes roved all over you, noticing the way Mapi is holding you and how your eyes are red and puffy. She reached a hand out to land comfortingly on your uninjured knee, her thumb stroking the skin there in concern.

“What happened, cariño?” She wondered quietly, frowning at the slight shake of the head you give her.

“I think she had some kind of meltdown or panic attack thing. None of the physios or doctors were helping, they were just stood watching and making her feel worse. I kicked them out and calmed her down, we're okay now.” Mapi explained simply, looking at you as you kept your eyes averted from the woman in front of you and instead fidgeted with your hands.

Alexia blew out sharply, cursing in Catalan under her breath. Mapi can sense she's about to go off on an outraged tangent, so the defender stops her with just a look. The captain deflated immediately, shaking herself out of her frustration and taking a calming deep breath before focusing back on you.

“I'm sorry. I tried to come off with you but they wouldn't let me. I am so sorry.” Alexia said softly, raising a hand to wipe away the lingering tear tracks on your cheek.

“You weren’t here when I needed you.” You mumbled, a deep-set frown on your face that filled Alexia with guilt.

The pair of them share a glance over your shoulder. The captain looks hurt, really hurt, and Mapi can’t quite blame her for that. They understood your discontent, but they didn’t know how deep it ran. They thought it was possibly somewhat misplaced, and your judgement was just a little clouded by the day’s events.

Except, it wasn't.

When you trust someone, and you hand your heart over to them, what may seem to be the slightest mistreatment can lead to the biggest blowouts.

After years and years of discrimination, prejudice, and hatred all directed at your whole being, it's hard to trust people. Hell, only eight months ago did you tell your colleagues about your true self after being a footballer for what, thirteen years? Other people's foul behaviour in the past was not your fault, yet it's only you left facing the repercussions. And the current situation was a perfect example of exactly what that meant for you.

“Cariño, I…” Alexia started, but she quickly trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, where to go from here. She hadn’t really found herself in this scenario before, she was always the first person you came to for comfort, and not only had you had found it from someone else, you were annoyed with her too.

Her hands pulled away from you like she'd been burnt, a notion not lost on you or Mapi.

“Ale really did try, I promise. Jona wouldn't let her sub off.” Mapi tried to tell you, but you stayed silent. She tried to suppress her sigh behind you, but you heard it. Loud and clear.

“You can leave if you want to, Mapi. Thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it.”

You didn't mean for it to sound so apathetic and ungrateful. But that's how it came out. You couldn't change it now.

Mapi instantly pulled away with nothing but a nod, squeezing your hand before getting up and leaving. She gave Alexia an uncertain glance as she walked past her, the taller woman just nodding at her before the defender left. 

It meant the pair of you were left alone now. There was a hushed voice from behind the door, no doubt Mapi lecturing the doctors. That wasn't at the forefront of your mind now, in fact there wasn't really anything you could focus on apart from the way you were acting. You'd treated two of the people dearest to you in an unkind way, yet you couldn't stop.

“I don't get why you weren't here. I don't get how Mapi was the first one to come to me.” You stated, eyebrows raised up in an attempt to act unphased by everything that had gone on. The tremble to your hands and the quiver to your lower lip told Alexia exactly how you were feeling.

“I tried. I really did.” Still, she didn't know what to say. 

“Not hard enough, Alexia.” You looked up at her in what you thought was a disappointed glare, but really it looked forced with layers upon layers of hurt behind it. The use of Alexia’s full name too shouldn't have hurt her as much as it did. “You're the captain. You can bend the rules and get away with it. I mean, if it was the other way around, I'd be there for you in a heartbeat no matter the consequences. So why wasn't it the same for me? I really needed you.”

Despite your best attempts, you couldn't fend off the frown or the tears that forced themselves upon you. Regardless of how you'd acted towards her, Alexia instantly forgave you for it all. She knew, in this second, you were overwhelmed and assigning your anger onto everything in the world because of what it had done to you today. She'd take all the blame if it gave you a release. 

“I didn't want to let anyone down.” Alexia whispered, holding back her own emotions.

“Well, you let me down. In the end.” 

The words just kept tumbling out of you uncontrollably. Of course you knew it wasn't Alexia's fault, she most likely would have been sanctioned after all, but that didn't stop the dam from breaking and unleashing waves of frustration onto everyone. All Alexia could do was nod and take it, and hope that once you had returned to your normal mindset, this would just be water under the bridge. And it would, you already knew you were being quite irrational, but you were too far gone to stop now.

Hastily, the midfielder blinked back the tears in her eyes and reached a hand out to put on your shoulder. That one gesture was what cracked your demeanour; you leaned forward then, resting your forehead against Alexia's stomach and, for the second time that day, letting the tears flow freely from your eyes. Her arms immediately wrapped around your back as she ducked down slightly to place a kiss on your head. She squeezed her own eyes shut, trying once more to keep her cries at bay so she could help you through your own emotions.

Only the sounds of your sniffling could be heard in the otherwise silent room, your tears dampening Alexia’s jersey as she doesn’t move a muscle so she can uphold your peace. Every so often she’ll run her hand up and down your back as a sign that she’s still with you in the moment, even if her words didn’t convey as such. She waits patiently for you to feel able again, knowing that your mental health is so much more important right now than whatever was going on with your leg. In the back of her mind she could guess the physical pain was still high, and the fact that you hadn’t mentioned it once since she walked in was enough cause for concern in itself.

“I want to go home.” You muttered tiredly some minutes later, leaning back to wipe your face with the inside of your shirt.

“I know. The doctors need to check you out first though, and I’ll be right here beside you. I won’t let them do anything you don’t want them to do.” She reassured you.

“But what can they do? Nothing right now. We already know it’s a torn hamstring, so let me get back to the hotel. I know it needs, what, ice and compression? We can sort that easily. I’m tired. And I don’t feel comfortable here. Please, Ale, I need to get out.” You pleaded, looking up at her with bloodshot, teary eyes that near enough split her heart in two. 

She pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly, kissing your temple this time before whispering, “Let me see what I can do.”

—

Turns out, there wasn’t much she could do. The Barcelona staff wouldn’t let you leave without being looked over, so after a minor disagreement and some amendments being made to the staff who would do so, you finally gave in and let them do their job. Just as you expected though, they really didn’t do much but confirm your thoughts. Ice, compression, and rest, before getting scans for it done when you landed back in Spain. 

They were hopeful that it wasn't a full tear and it wouldn't require surgery, but you weren't going to give that hope a home in your heart. Your expectations were the lowest of low, it was the only way to prevent yourself from getting hurt more. After all, it is the hope that kills you.

And now, as you lay on your hotel bed, completely and thoroughly exhausted by everything, you feel helpless. Alexia is going around the room and tidying, her attempt at gaining back control of just something because she feels helpless too, and you're just there watching her. Sleep keeps trying to take over you, but you refuse to let it happen, instead focusing on anything that doesn't involve succumbing to your exhaustion. Because, really, you just want your Ale. But she can't keep still.

“Amor, I can see your eyes drooping, please try to get some sleep.” She comes around to your side of the bed and leans down to kiss your cheek, looking at you both pointedly yet softly.

“Don't want to.” You shook your head, hearing her sigh. “Only if you come to bed.” 

You're itching to comfort her - you were well aware of the emotional discourse you had caused earlier and were desperate to make up for it. 

“You promise? You really need some rest.” You nodded, suppressing a yawn, and saw her smile before giving in.

She had already helped you through a somewhat disjointed night routine before setting you up in bed. There weren't really any comfortable ways for you to sleep tonight apart from on your back, which really wasn't too comfy at all. The compression sleeve was uncomfortably tight and the painkillers you'd taken hadn't really done a thing, nor had the ice earlier. 

So, after quickly getting changed, Alexia slid under the covers and flicked the lights off with the switch by the bed, before moving onto her side and shuffling closer to you. From then on, the room was still and serene. It was the kind of quiet that was audible, it had weight to it that meant it could be felt in the way it settled in the bones of everyone experiencing it, and perhaps that was the catalyst for you. It wasn’t empty, no. Instead, the muffled hum of the world outside the window collided with the combined breaths of you both to make it feel a little too alive. 

To you, the silence was stifling and alarming. For Alexia, she was none the wiser to the sensory torment that was making you feel inexplicably worse. Every essence of the day - your injury, the aftermath, the future, the silence, your guilt - was hammering down on you now. Just like earlier, there was no escape. No reprieve. This was your present, though it didn’t quite feel like a gift, and there was no stopping it. 

There was enough of a gap between you and Alexia to allow the emotions to build. You could feel the warmth from her, but you felt separated by all the words that had gone unsaid by you. They lingered, taunting and menacing, as if you didn’t have enough on your plate already. 

But you didn’t give your girlfriend the credit she deserved. 

When your breaths became slightly stuttered, and your eyes clamped shut a hair too tightly, Alexia sensed it all.

“Cariño?” She whispered, gently cradling your cheek and turning your head towards her. “What's wrong?”

You tried to talk, you really did, but all that came out was yet more stuttered breaths and tears from your aching eyes. Withholding a saddened sigh, Alexia leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours. Her hand on your cheek wiped away any tears that fell and rubbed soothing circles on the wet skin. 

“I'm s-sorry, Ale. I r-really a-am.” You raised a hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle the cries on their way out, but Alexia only shook her head and carefully pulled it away.

“No, cariño, don't apologise. You don't need to say sorry for anything.” Her lips pressed kisses against your nose, cheeks, chin, the corner of your mouth and your temple. She didn't need you to apologise, all she needed was for you to know she would love you no matter the circumstances.

“But I was so, so horrible a-” 

���Shh.” She cut you off gently, leaning your foreheads back together to calm you. Throughout all of this, she still managed to maintain the quietness of the room, somehow making it peaceful and serene like it should have been the first time around. “I understand. You do not need to be sorry, I know how you were feeling earlier and neither me nor Mapi are upset about what you were saying. Just shh, relax.”

You nodded and took in a deep, shuddery breath, clutching her forearm and doing your best to do as she said. Both of you let a few minutes pass by, giving you all the time in the world necessary to calm down, the close proximity and her comforting touch helping you to reach a stable state of mind.

“I just wanted you to know.” You told her in an insecure voice some time later. She smiled and tilted her head up to kiss your forehead once more, holding herself there for a couple seconds to emphasise her adoration. Then she went back to her previous position and looked into your eyes with care and love in her own.

“I do know, I promise.” She stated with such conviction that it didn't leave you with much else choice apart from trusting her wholeheartedly. “I wasn't nice to people around me when I first did my ACL. Mapi was there to see it all, I had to do a lot of grovelling afterwards. When I could move about properly again, she made me clean her whole apartment.” 

At that, you let out a wet laugh, only to suppress another yawn afterwards. Alexia smiled even more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You won't make me do that, will you?” It was her turn to laugh now and the sound of it brings a genuine smile to your face. 

“Never.” She hummed. “I know how it feels to get a bad injury and I will never blame you for being upset. I will be here for you every step of the way until you're back on the pitch again, we all will. You're allowed to feel angry, sad, frustrated with the world, or however else you're feeling. It is unfair, but we will get you back.”

“You're sure?” You mumbled a few moments later. With her eyes gazing into yours and her thumb stroking your cheekbone lightly, she nodded. Then, to confirm her affirmation, she leaned forwards that bit more to softly leave a kiss to your lips.

“I am certain.” She murmured when she pulled back, lips brushing against yours. “We will get you there. The team will take us to the final, and you will be walking out onto the grass in Lisbon with not only the club, but the fans behind you too. I swear it.”

Her words were all the motivation you needed. 

They echoed around your mind as you tried to sleep that night, and throughout the whole of the next day. It was tough to cope with, this (albeit temporary) new normal, and you loathed the sympathetic looks on everybody’s faces as they watched you slowly hobble from place to place on crutches. The flight home was a whole other story; for the life of you, you couldn’t get comfy, and in the end you had to sit sideways in your seat to give you the space to rest your leg across the empty middle seat whilst your feet ended up in Alexia’s lap. 

Alexia tried to keep her face composed, knowing the effect everyone else was having on you, but it tore her apart to see the down-trodden frown on your lips and the constant furrow to your brow that conveyed exactly how you were feeling. For the duration of the flight, her eyes hardly left you, constantly checking to see how you were doing without trying to be too overbearing. This wasn’t even the trickiest part of the day, yet it was already proving to be a tough mental challenge.

However, there was one silver lining that came to light. Possibly, it was the best outcome of them all. It wasn’t even Alexia’s injury, but she felt like crying upon hearing the news. Even when she walked you into your apartment later in the evening, there was still an overjoyed smile on her face as the sentence played over and over in her head.

“It’s only a grade two tear, meaning the rehabilitation process will be easier, especially considering you don’t need surgery.” 

On the other hand, you weren’t so positive. No matter the result of the scan, you still had to deal with weeks off from the one constant thing that never failed you. Except, it had failed you this time, to the highest degree so far. It didn’t matter that your comeback might be sooner than you initially thought, time off was still time off. From now on, there would be physio sessions, lonely days in the gym, matches missed, and even with the hard work you would put in, you might still miss the possible Champion’s League final, should your team get there. There was no doubt in your mind that they would get there. To miss a game like that at the peak of your career would irrevocably ruin you in any and all aspects.

Yet, again, Alexia of all people understood this. And the moment that you fully broke down, was the time she understood you the most.

“What if I don’t come back? What if I don’t play the same as I did? There’s no guarantee for anything, Alexia, and I just-”

The anxieties poured out thick and fast, but the captain was there to catch all of them and secure each one in the back of her mind, for when you were ready to tackle each one. She was seated behind you on the sofa, the sky a midnight blue out the window and the only light in your home being the warm white of the lamp in the corner of the room. Her arms were tight around your torso, her chin hooked over your shoulder with her cheek pressing against yours. Each time another sob ripped through you, her hand would be there in an instant to swipe away each individual teardrop and the quiet reassurances in your ear never seemed to end. 

Your emotions subsided eventually, but the strength and security of the blonde behind you never faltered. With your head resting back on her shoulder and your sniffles sounding through the room periodically, she was running through every problem and solution that could come about in the upcoming weeks. Not a single possibility scared her away. She would get you through rehab and to Lisbon if it killed her.

Doubting you and your will-power was something Alexia would never do. In reality, she thought most people underestimated you. There wasn’t a single worry in her mind that you would work harder than anyone to be back for that one match you had dreamed of all your career. And if the team didn’t get there, well… for Alexia, she had never had a bigger motivation than the one in her arms right now.

And when she thought you had exhausted yourself once your sniffles had stopped and your breathing was even again, she voiced all that was on her mind. Just like the night before, her words were everything you could ever need. It was hard to be discouraged about getting your life back on track when such a prominent figure, who had been in a worse situation than you in terms of injuries, was so certain that you were going to get through this blip.

“We will get you back, I’ll make sure of it.” She began in the quietest whisper she could manage, though when her mouth was right beside your ear it wasn’t hard to hear her. “I will not leave your side, min engel, not for one moment. You are the strongest person I know, I’ve told you that before, but it’s true. I thought I knew what it meant to be strong, but you show me a new meaning of it every day I’m with you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but how could I not?” She smiled to herself, flashes of all her favourite memories from the past eight months passing through her mind. “You give me everything I ever dreamed of. Being your girlfriend is the greatest honour of my entire life. Jeg elsker deg, cariño. Siempre.” 

You heard it all. You couldn’t ignore her.

“Since when did you know bits of Norwegian?” You asked her. She stiffened under you, feeling like she had been caught red handed. With a giggle, you sat up and turned the upper half of your body to face her, careful not to jolt your leg. When you looked at her, there was a pink tinge to her cheeks and a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips. All it took was one teasing grin from you for her to groan and throw her head back against the sofa cushions in embarrassment. 

“I thought you were asleep.” She mumbled from behind her hands that had covered her face, only for you to laugh at her more. “Stoooop.”

Pushing through the pain, you gently flipped to lie on your stomach and, once comfortable, rested your chin on her chest. You gazed up at her almost in awe; it hit you, sometimes, that her love for you ran so much deeper than you’d ever realise. It ran through her veins, it had seeped deep into her bones, and filled her from head to toe. What she showed you on a daily basis was so much more than you could have dreamed of, but if you asked Alexia, she’d say it was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Why did you want to say it when I was sleeping?” You wondered quietly. She took her hands away from her face and looked down at you, her arms moving to rest atop your back.

“I just thought the moment was right.” She shrugged, her sheepish smile from earlier replaced by a soft one.

“You meant all of it?” You asked in a barely intelligible voice. 

“All of it. All of it and more, cariño.” The blonde replied with zero hesitation. “These upcoming weeks, we will just take it step by step, okay?”

“I know. It just worries me.” You sighed, dropping your forehead to her chest. “So much to do. So much I don’t know. I might get re-injured straight after. I don’t want to do it.”

“I understand.” Alexia murmured, ducking her chin down awkwardly to kiss the top of your head. “It will be worth it though. When you come back, you will fall in love with football all over again. You will find joy in the basic things, like just running or doing kick-ups. It changes your perspective on a lot of things. Sometimes these things come our way, no matter how much we don’t want them to, and they change us for the better. You will see.”

—

With this injury, you literally did have to take things step by step. The next day was a recovery day for the rest of the team, and you had to tag along so that you could meet with Jona and the staff about creating a provisional rehab plan for you. Week one was just rest. Nothing else. You were ordered to sit at home all day, waiting for Alexia to come home like a sad puppy. Honestly, that was probably the hardest part to get through.

You were an active person, not a day went by without you doing some kind of exercise or physical activity. Being stuck on the sofa or in bed twenty-four hours of the day was not appealing at all. Rather embarrassingly, when Alexia left for the first day of proper training since the Bayern game, you had watched her leave with tears in your eyes. She would only be gone for a few hours, but knowing your team was working hard for the second leg at the weekend was killing you. 

What you didn’t know though, was that Alexia had already planned the week out for you. 

Ten minutes after she had left on day one, Alba showed up with bags upon bags of stuff. Snacks, face masks, gifts, flowers, your favourite candle, the right equipment for her to give you a manicure, and more. It was hard for your thoughts to be clouded by negativity when the brunette was there to meet each millisecond of a frown with something to take your mind off of it. Whether that was with words or a hug or something else, by the time Alexia got home, you’d had a pretty good day. Upon stepping into your apartment, she dropped her kit bag and slipped off her shoes before joining two of her favourite people on the sofa to watch whatever movie was playing on the TV. Alba tried to push her away to shower, but the blonde just grinned before scooching closer to her sister and wrapping her arm tightly around her. The scene on display before you then was much more interesting than the film, the two bickering for what seemed like forever until Alba eventually had to leave.

On day two, Alba came to visit again, this time bringing her little dog and one of Eli’s home cooked meals for lunch. The day played out much the same as the one before it, but it was still just what you needed to get through this first rough week of recovery. When Alexia got home, her cheeks ached with the smile that grew after spotting you asleep on the sofa with the chihuahua in your arms. Alba rolled her eyes at the lovesick gaze her sister gave, only for Alexia to flick her forehead before carefully laying beside you and wrapping herself around your sleeping body. It took a matter of minutes for her to drift off, and she was less than pleased when she woke up to a plethora of… inappropriate drawings on her face whilst you were left untouched.

The rest of the week went pretty much the same way, until you’d finally gotten through it and, before you knew it, you were seated in the Johan watching the second round of the match-up that had taken you out in the first place. Fortunately for you, the team seemed hungry, and you were treated to a great game of the sport you loved. Even if you were a player for one of the clubs watching, it was thrilling to see both teams fight it out like they did. But ultimately, there was no stopping your blaugrana teammates that day. And Alexia, she seemed reinvigorated. In all the time you had been in Barcelona so far, the Bayern game was the best you’d seen her play so far. She was on another level, and as you clambered your way down to the locker room with your crutches to greet them all, you were swelling with pride.

You’re understandably a little slow when half your body weight relies on two metal sticks, so by the time you’re heading into the locker room, most of the team are already in there after making the rounds with the fans. The music is playing already, each of them buzzing after successfully making it one step closer to the final, but their faces light up even more at the sight of you. They hadn’t seen you in the week that you had been posted up in your flat, so they couldn’t help but cheer as you hobbled in.

“Ahí está!”

Jana smiled brightly at you, instantly walking over to hug you tightly. Others soon followed, and before you knew it, you found yourself at the centre of a group hug that was difficult to partake in when your arms were still hooked into your crutches. You laughed unabashedly at them all and their dramatics, greeting them one by one when they finally broke away. There were still some missing from the room, specifically the one person you were looking for, but you happily chatted along with them and joined in with their celebrations whilst you waited. 

“Back to work next week, sí?” Aitana grinned as you sat down in Alexia’s cubby, nodding up at her with a smile. “We have missed you in training, really!”

“She’s right, Mapi has been getting too big for her boots this week. You need to come back and start humiliating her in practice again.” Keira rolled her eyes with a huff, Aitana laughing beside her. 

“Tell her she should count her days.” You smirked, watching as that very woman strolled into the room with Alexia and Ingrid behind her. 

The three of them came over to you straight away, all with beaming smiles on their faces. Alexia sat down beside you and quickly pecked your cheek, managing to do so without catching the attention of the team members that would mock her. Everyone knew about your relationship, but Alexia didn’t feel like showing her utterly soft side as she would get teased for eternity.

“You guys played really well today.” You told the three of them, Alexia smiling to herself as she untied her laces.

“Almost like it is our job, preciosa.” Mapi poked your shoulder, only to receive an elbow to her side from Ingrid.

“Take the compliment, María.” She said, sending the pair of them off into a playful argument. 

It left you and Alexia somewhat alone, despite being in a room of at least twenty people, but some peace nevertheless. For a minute or two, you observed her silently, watching on as she took a moment of respite for herself after the game. Then, she turned to you, a content smile on her face.

“You okay?” She murmured, putting her hand over yours that rested against the bench.

“Mhm. What about you, player of the match?” 

Alexia rolled her eyes at your affectionate teasing, chuckling quietly. You grinned and bumped your shoulder into hers, resting your head there afterwards.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yes, I loved it. You played so well. Honestly, your best game this season.” You told her, and the blonde woman's smile only grew. She'd been told countless times over her career how good she was, but there was something about you telling her that was just that more meaningful.

“Sí, and you know why?” Mapi butted into the conversation, looking pointedly at Alexia.

“Mapi, no-”

“Ale made the whole pre-game speech about you.” 

You heard a scoff from the woman in question as you sat back up and glanced at her. She had turned her head away slightly, cheeks bright red as Mapi laughed giddily at her reaction.

“Really?” You smiled sheepishly. Mapi decided to run off to the showers at that moment, leaving her friend to explain that one.

“Maybe.” Alexia grumbled, only for her grumpy facade to crack the second she turned back to look at you. “I did. I told the team from now on, in the Champion's League, we play for you. It wasn't about just you. It was about… other things too. But also you.”

“You are so cute, Ale.” You hummed, hearing her groan quietly and shake her head.

“I need to get a restraining order from that diablo.” She huffed. Then, she softened, turned back to you, and whispered, “I did play for you though today. Just for you.”

—

The second leg of the quarter final was luckily on a Saturday, meaning Alexia was freely yours for the Sunday afterwards that had been made a rest day. Thanks to the good amount of rest you (reluctantly) gave your leg, a week onwards it was feeling better than you expected. Alexia still demanded that you used the crutches and she didn’t leave much room for argument, but what you did fight for was the opportunity to actually leave the four walls of your flat properly. Not just for a game, but for actual human social interaction. She agreed, not without a seemingly endless list of do’s and don’ts, but nevertheless she agreed.

It ended up being exactly what you needed. You got back home early afternoon feeling rejuvenated and ready for the first week of rehab that was waiting for you in the Barça gym. Sure, it might have just been a breakfast date at that same spot with the same person as that day all those months ago, and just a sluggish walk around some of your favourite local areas, but it was perfect. 

Despite the ache in your arms and the slight heightened pain in your leg, you lay on the sofa back at your flat with a warmth in your heart, for the first time that week. Alexia found it rather amusing when she walked back into the lounge area to find you smiling to yourself with your eyes shut. Your sofa was pretty small, so when you lay down arm to arm it didn’t leave much space for anyone else. As she didn’t want to disgruntle you, Alexia decided it was best to sit on the floor in front of you instead. She put on the first football game she could find on the TV and watched it whilst picking from the bowl of fruit she had brought in. However, as you dozed off behind her, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back every so often. Why wouldn’t she take all the time she could to gaze at the person she adored most? It was an easy conclusion for her to come to.

She looked at you with the same eyes as you walked in front of her into the locker room the next day. Even as you both went separate ways after changing, she didn’t dare look away from you until you finally turned the corner, despite it making her a tad late onto the pitch. The dreamy look in her eyes faltered a little, making space for concern, when she met you at the end of the training day and there was a frown on your face. 

“Still have to use this one stupid crutch.” You grumbled when you saw her questioning look as you approached her in the corridor. “And I hardly did anything today apart from listen and stretch and get poked and prodded.”

After only two sentences from yourself, the heart shape returned to her pupils as she nodded in sympathy and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s only day one, engel. It will get better, I promise.” She whispered into your hairline, before leaving a kiss there. “Let’s go home and relax. My flat or yours?”

As it turned out, injury rehab was quite difficult. And slow, painfully slow. That first day was barely a drop in the ocean. Perhaps it was Alexia who was the naive one out of the two of you about this whole journey, but nobody could fault her, she just wanted the best for you. Once she took off her rose-tinted glasses, she could see that this was going to be so much more difficult than she initially thought.

The routine difference was hard for you to adjust to, and not only that, but the schedule you were given was susceptible to change at any moment. One second of work could alter every part of the month’s timetable. It was that structural rigidness that had you on edge at all seconds. 

Your temper was inexplicably short, you were snappy and blunt almost all the time, and it was as if one minor thing could trigger a meltdown if it caught you at the wrong moment. You wanted to work hard, yes, but with so much unknown, it was difficult to keep your concentration on the one goal you had. Everything else was getting in the way - your emotions, fears, anxiety, frustration - there were too many distractions. 

And whilst the mask came down around the majority of your teammates, it was Ingrid and Alexia that received the brunt of your uneasiness. Every time you thought things were getting better and you started actually feeling optimistic, something would come along and cruelly knock your confidence right back down.

As the days rolled on, you became more and more exhausted with it all. And that was not what you needed during rehab. 

Keeping up a facade that wasn’t true, forcing a smile that wasn’t there, and feigning determination that was dissipating by the day was so mentally damning. You nearly made it to the end of the week unharmed. Nearly.

“Snuppa, are you awake?” A voice called from outside your bedroom, followed by the third knock so far.

It was the first morning that you were waking up alone since your injury nearly two weeks ago. Apparently, your drained and morose mind was taking full advantage of that.

“Okay, I’m going to come in now, alright?” Ingrid gave it another ten seconds before she opened the door after getting no response. What she walked in on wasn’t so unfamiliar.

You hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. Getting up and facing the day ahead just wasn’t something you wanted to do. Thankfully, this wasn’t the result of a meltdown, but rather months worth of exhaustion built up to burn you out completely. 

“Hey.” Ingrid said quietly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong?”

There were a million things you wanted to come out and say, but that wasn’t going to happen right now. Ingrid understood that.

“Do you think you’ll make it out of bed today?” You could answer non-verbally, with simple nods or a shake of your head, and here you just shrugged a shoulder. “Okay. I hear today is supposed to be a good day though, the physios think you can ditch the crutches altogether now.”

Oh. You’d forgotten about that. 

“You know, it doesn’t matter what time you go in. If you’re up to it, you can go in whenever you want, I will sort it with the staff. But if not, that’s okay too. It’s good to have a break every so often.” 

Maybe a compromise could work? Getting rid of the crutch would be a great step in the right direction. But a break also sounds good too. 

“Whatever works best for you, snuppa, we can do.”

It was planned for Ingrid to meet you that morning and take you in anyway, but to be honest you hadn’t expected to do anything but stay in bed, under the guise of darkness and a blanket for the day. A way to protect yourself from the world and all it could do. However, her proposal did sound easier to manage than what was originally planned for the day.

“If it’s too much for you at any time, either me or Alexia will be there to take you home.” She smiled sympathetically down at you, her hand coming up to hold yours that rested on top of the covers. “We just need to work out what’s best for you today.”

That was easier said than done. You did make it out of bed a little while after that, but only to eat breakfast and feel a little more human. At some point, Ingrid had messaged the staff to let them know that neither one of you would be in on time, and that it was currently a work in progress to get in at all. She also sent a text to Alexia too, who had a full morning of meetings before training, but she still somehow managed to blow up Ingrid’s phone a second later. 

Thankfully, you did manage to make it in. It was a challenge, of course it was, but you made it and that was a win in itself. And then the wins kept coming.

You were cleared to walk, cleared to start doing proper exercises and workouts in the gym unlike the boring borderline yoga you'd been doing all week, and the best of all, you were another step closer to being back on a football pitch. That was enough to restore the smile on your face. 

Though, you were still quite burnt out, that couldn't go away with just a bit of good news, so Ingrid had helped you make a plan with the physios over the weekend. The team was due to play on Saturday afternoon, with a day off again for the Sunday after it. Due to it nearing the end of the season where the schedule got more and more packed with high tension games, there were more rest days given to ensure all players were kept healthy, physically and mentally. For you, that meant you could take the whole weekend off without needing to go in for rehab - instead, the staff had given you strengthening exercises to do at home in the hopes that you would be able to somewhat relax and recover before Monday. That was more than okay for you.

Something had caused training to run a bit later that day, so despite your mishap in the morning, you were finished before practice was. So, with your newly restored ability to walk again, you carefully made your way from physio to the pitch. This was the longest you had gone in two weeks without seeing Alexia, and no matter how silly it seemed, you had missed her. 

It didn't take long for the blonde to spot you once you had reached the sidelines, sat on a cooler box watching them all, and her whole aura brightened immediately, as if seeing you with a smile was a weight off her shoulders. All day, she had been silently worried for you, guilty and devastated that she wasn't there in the morning. But now all that was gone, and her lovesick gaze had returned. 

Ten minutes passed before the end was called and the second it did, Alexia was jogging over. She wiped her face with the bottom of her jersey as it was a hot April day, then looked at you with a proud smile.

“Hi, amor.” She beamed, her eyebrows flying up in pleasant surprise at how easy you managed to stand up, unassisted. She gazed at you for a few moments, before gently wrapping you up in a tight embrace.

“Hi, Ale.” You giggled into her shoulder, your arms linking around her neck.

“I am so proud of you.” She whispered before sweetly kissing your cheek. Then she pulled back, her hands raising from your back to your neck as she smiled down at you. “So proud. Of you getting to work this morning, of your hard work. Of everything. So proud.”

You blushed and sheepishly averted your eyes to your shoes, only for Alexia to push your chin back up with her thumbs. 

“Yeah, I get it, you're proud.” You mumbled light-heartedly, watching as she chuckled and nodded.

“I am, would you like to hear me say it again? I am so pro-” You interrupted her by covering her mouth, preventing her from talking. However, she out-strengthed you, so she easily pulled your hand away and shook her head. “I'm proud, and I love you.”

Despite there still being some of your teammates and staff members around, she cupped your cheeks and kissed you fervently. All care flew out the window; she was overflowing with admiration, and she had to make sure you knew it. With the way her lips moved against yours and how her hands held you, it took barely a second for you to become aware of that.

It was a great day, in the end. And though you did need a weekend off like you were given, by the time Monday came around, you were more determined than ever. 

—

From that day onwards, time flew by. Weirdly, a dream scenario occurred. You grew hyperfixated on the progress you were making. Your doctors and the people around you were always there to ensure that it remained a healthy hyperfixation, which it did. Although there were a few situations where others had to gently intervene or check in with you, for the most part you handled your circumstance perfectly. 

You had eventually grown into a comfortable routine that you stuck to by the minute everyday. And with your happiness, came that of others. Alexia was honoured to have a front row seat to it all. Like she had predicted, you had rediscovered joy in the small things, and it was evident to her and the rest of the team when you were lacing your boots up for the first time in weeks whilst sat on the grass. The simple, awfully familiar act had caused a smile to show on your face. 

Your teammates were watching from afar, whilst Alexia and Ingrid were stood beside your trainers and chatting with them about the day’s plan. Today was the day you would be running on the grass again. It was the end of April, and tomorrow, Barça were due to play the second leg of the semi-final against Real Madrid in the capital. Nobody had said it, but they were all thinking it: watching you achieve this milestone was a huge boost in motivation for them to secure a place in the final.

Multiple of them had their phones out to record the moment, and you tried to school the giant smile that was fast on its way to forming when you took your first step of your run. It felt fucking good. A simple bit of running had never given you so much euphoria. There were no aches, no pains, no twinges or discomfort, everything was the same as it used to be. 

Once you had done your first lap of the pitch’s width, you went back to the physios with a shy grin. Ingrid gave Alexia a teasing nudge as the older woman had a certain gloss to her eyes, and she groaned under her breath before blinking suspiciously quick. The pair watched you conversate with the trainers before they gave you the all clear to get started on some basic running drills. 

By then, your other teammates were ordered to start practice, whilst Ingrid and Alexia wormed their way out of it a bit longer so they could be there for you. To your surprise, you grew tired quite quickly, though you supposed over four weeks of no cardio would do that to you. Yet, your leg still had no issues. It would be a bit longer before you went back to proper training, but you would happily take this. Because for now, you felt on top of the world. 

Ingrid and Alexia bid their goodbyes, hugging you and whispering their pride, before jogging away to get to work. On your way into the building for yet more physio, you had to pass the rest of the squad, and of course there was a certain Spaniard that was unable to keep her mouth closed.

“La reina de la reina is back!” She shouted, both arms in the air like a toddler. Your teammates cheered along with her, making it known just how happy they were for you. You laughed at their show of affection, pushing down the bubble of emotions it kicked off inside you. Nowadays, you were almost certain you belonged with them.

Later on, you travelled with them to Madrid, but not before they all congratulated you and made jovial jabs that had you laughing until your stomach ached. Ultimately though, the excitement of it all and the physical exertion had tired you out. Alexia was more than happy to let you sleep on her shoulder for the whole journey through Spain.

You weren’t even playing in the game the next day, but from the moment you stepped foot in the city, you were wracked with nerves. It wasn’t that you didn’t have faith in your team, it was that if for some reason they didn’t get to the final, it would feel like all your hard work was for nothing. Yes, you would be back playing football and it would be an incredible personal achievement, but… the thought kept you up that night. Alexia slept soundly beside you, not a worry in her mind about it, and yet you were so anxious that a deep feeling of nausea set in. 

Travelling on the coach to the ground was the same; that anxiety was still there, and whilst the rest of the team was pretty relaxed about it considering they already had a two goal advantage, your good leg was bouncing up and down rapidly. The blonde captain beside you noticed it when she looked away from her phone and she frowned, knowing it was a common thing you did when you were stressed. Mapi and Ingrid were chattering away between themselves across the table from you, none the wiser thus far.

“Cariño, are you okay?” Alexia asked quietly, her hand landing on your knee and breaking you out of your anxious trance. You gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, gulping and looking away afterwards. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just nervous about the game.” You replied with a nonchalant shrug, which caught the attention of the pair in front of you. Mapi cut Alexia off before she could speak.

“Hey, after the final, why don’t we all go on vacation together in Portugal? Ingrid and I went last summer, it was perfect.” She suggested, Ingrid immediately lighting up and nodding excitedly.

“It really was, we should go together.” The taller woman bursted off into a ramble about the place they stayed in, Mapi cutting in every so often. It helped to keep you distracted and Alexia agreed on behalf of you both, the three of them delving into details. 

Despite all that, the second the coach stopped, it all came rushing back. Thankfully, you were going to be sitting on the bench for the game rather than in the stands, though there wasn’t really anything to make you feel better until the final whistle was blown. 

If circumstances were different and you were playing, chances are you probably wouldn't even be half as nervous. As a player, you have a certain amount of control over the outcome. As a fan, there's nothing you can do except watch. And bite your nails, and bounce your leg, and the sorts. Being around the team would surely be better than alone with the fans, so hopefully that would put you somewhat at ease. Yet, even if Barça scored ten goals throughout the game, until that whistle blew, you'd still be on edge.

That being said, the best thing about playing for FC Barcelona is that they're pretty fucking good at their sport. Granted, like Mapi said, it was their job (and yours too of course), but that didn't stop you from being blown away by the talent each player holds.

Being on the field with them is one thing, watching them is another. It's an art form, their style of play, and being in your position on the bench with Irene on one side and Jana on the other, the three of you have your jaws stuck to the ground. The game was flawless on the team’s behalf; zero goals conceded, zero yellow cards, and three goals to go with the two from the last game. Watching Alexia Maradona turn herself out of the triangle of las blancas players she'd been caught in might have been the most attractive thing you had ever seen. The free kick she scored, just like the ones you had seen her do morning after morning, topped that skill move as soon as it went in. 

Moreover, Cata’s triple save in the dying minutes of the game to save her clean sheet really was the cherry on the cake. The referee signalled the end of the game after that, Mapi having taken the ball to the corner flag to let the clock tick down, and you were near enough in tears.

You had made it. You were in the Champion's League final. And with the way you were progressing in rehab, it was looking more and more likely by the day that you would at least get some minutes in the biggest game of your career.

Vicky tugged you up out of your chair and pulled you onto the pitch, where the rest of your team were celebrating. Yes, you were in this team too. That display they'd just put on, you were part of it. The badge on their chests, you wore it too. 

It wasn't a moment of impostor syndrome like it had been in the past. Here, it was a moment of gratitude, disbelief. This was your team, and you were in the final of the most prestigious tournament for club football. 

The younger attacker at your side swung your hands between you both in utter elation as you jogged to the huddle of blaugrana in the centre of the field. You don't know who was where or what was going on, but without a care in the world, you ran up to them and jumped on the back of the first person you could reach. Looking down, you realised it was Esmee, so you hugged her tightly whilst still on her back before jumping down carefully greeting her properly.

For a little while, it was just a heap of bodies, laughing and cheering and dancing to whatever music rang through the stadium’s speakers. However, at some point, you ended up in the middle of the group. And with this team's record, it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, hey, put her down! She's still injured!” Alexia shouted as she ran over from her media duties to find you being thrown in the air by them all. “Dios mío, estáis como una cabra. No usáis el cerebro? Ojalá tuvierais tanto sentido común como talento!” 

“Cálmate, capi! Look how happy she is!” Jana slung an arm around Alexia's shoulders as the pair stood back and observed the chaos ensuing. Alexia huffed and crossed her arms. “You really did play for her, huh? You did it for loooove.”

“Vete al carajo, nena.” Alexia grumbled, leaving her side but not without a quick kiss to her cheek. “Oye, basta! Ahora!”

With you laughing away, the girls finally put you back on the ground as Alexia shoved her way through to you. You were none the wiser to her demands, so the second you saw her, you smiled brightly and went to hug her. The smile was immediately wiped away and replaced with a puzzled frown when her hands clutched your shoulders and her eyes roved up and down your body.

“Did they hurt you? Is your leg okay?” She questioned with a disapproving stare and a flare to her nostrils.

“No, it was just a bit of fun, I-”

“Good. I would have killed them if they reinjured you.” She mumbled, now giving you the hug you wanted in the first place. The tension in her muscles evaporated in your hold, and it was then you knew she wasn't actually angry. “We are in the final, amor.”

“We're in the final.” You echoed in a whisper, pulling back to gaze up at her with a childlike grin that failed to conceal the excitement bursting through you. “We're in the final!”

“Sí, a la final, min engel! Your final!” She met your giddiness with an intensity of her own, taking your hands in hers and intertwining your fingers. You went to step back from her, only for the captain to pull you back in until your noses were touching. Discreetly, hidden by the team around you, she kissed the corner of your mouth, knowing you were mostly out of view of the fans. Then, she moved so that you were cheek to cheek, her lips beside your ear. “That trophy is yours already. And I can't wait to play football with you again.”

The bashful smile you rewarded her sentiment with was far better than any accolade or achievement Alexia could ever get.

—

Life got pretty busy from that day onwards, it was full steam ahead to get the tail end of the season completed. By the end of May, you were back in full team training, and when you had completed your first session, your cheeks ached from smiling. Of course, once it had finished, a number of your teammates decided the best way to celebrate it there and then was to uncap their bottles and spray you down with sports drinks like it was champagne. If anyone asked what the teardrops on your cheeks were from, at least you had an excuse to cover your unwanted expression of joy.

And when the month of May was done and over with, it was time for the last game of your first season in Spain. What a game it was.

Stepping out onto the vibrant green grass in Lisbon for MD-1 training at the stadium was a memory you would treasure forever. Sure, when you were actually playing in the final the next day, that might overshadow it, but nobody could take that first step away from you. 

The plan for the game was that you would be subbed on at any fitting moment from the 60th minute onwards. You didn’t care that it wasn’t a full game, that was ample time to make your mark and stamp your name into the footballing history books. You’d make sure that would happen if it was the last thing you did.

Except, things don’t always go as planned. 

Being 1-0 down at halftime was not how the team wanted it to play out. 

Frustration was written on everybody’s faces as the locker room filled up, wondering how on earth it had gone wrong like it had. With the way the other team was playing, the game plan had to be reworked. And boy, was it. 

It was decided that you would be substituted on at half-time instead. Was it risky? Probably. But the trainers were okay with it, Jona was happy with it, and you were delighted at the change of events. Perhaps you shouldn’t say that to anyone else, considering your team was a goal down, but there was no hiding it. Alexia took one glance at your face and knew you were about to hold the opposition accountable for the tragic mistake they had made. Retribution was to be had, not just against the other side, but you were about to kick off your revenge tour. There was a sense of danger about you when you entered the field, and rightly so.

Within minutes of the second half, Pina scored to equal the scoring. Aitana was there to collect the ball from the back of the net and bring it back to the centre circle to restart the game. It was a one-sided affair from there. 

Barcelona Femení had inflicted damage upon most teams in Europe by now, they had a reputation. Nobody should count them out, put them down, and most of all, underestimate them. With you added to the team, a fatalistic striker that had a deadly right foot, there was no chance that that trophy wasn’t going your way.

A fair amount of pressure was all it took for the other team to crumble. Their legs were tiring as a result of the constant pressing they faced, and their defence was quickly falling apart. A sharp, direct through ball from Caro was everything you needed. One swift strike of the ball later, and the white squares of the net rippled in tandem with the blaugrana fans that decorated most of the stadium. 

Every low of the last two months suddenly didn’t matter when you were running off to one corner of the pitch, every member of your team following behind you. All the difficulties, all the meltdowns, all the sleepless nights, they were worth it. 

Since you had a headstart in the celebrations, you came to a stop just before your teammates did. 

For a split second, it was just you. You and the pride and the relief that pulsed through you at what you had achieved. There were still a number of minutes left of the game, but that didn’t matter. Not once in your life had you ever felt elation like it, you’d bottle it up if you could. Bottle it up, label it, and put it on your living room shelf as a constant, ever-present reminder of your ability. 

Oh wait, you could just use your medal instead.

That moment of awe and wonder was quickly interrupted by twenty screaming bodies crowding around you - the on-field players as well as the substitutes, the staff, and god knows who else. 

At the heart of the huddle? Alexia and yourself, just like it was in Madrid. 

The midfielder was speechless, there was a million things she wanted to say but not one came out. Instead, she simply looked at you with her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, before you put her out of her misery and jumped into her arms. She caught you with ease, holding you tight to her as your head span on a swivel looking at the thousands of Barça fans all celebrating you. 

Still in the arms of the woman you loved, Mapi grabbed your arm and shook you back and forth in admiration.

“Preciosa, qué coño?!” She bellowed, Alexia laughing as she gazed up at you.

The captain carefully lowered you to the ground, hoping to finally get a word in, when your best friend wrapped her long Scandinavian limbs around you and squealed directly in your ear.

“I am so proud of you, søster! I can’t believe it!” Ingrid stated in one long continuous squeal, squeezing you to death. 

The celebrations carried on probably far longer than they should, but soon you were making your way back to your starting position with Alexia almost glued to your side. When it had all calmed down, some softer emotions settled. Before, it was intense with adrenaline running fast and high. Now, a quiet, content sense of pride and disbelief draped itself, without much commotion, over your heart like a warm blanket. It was such a raw and strong feeling that, rather inconveniently, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Cariño, are you crying?” Alexia asked in an ever so slightly teasing tone. You shoved her away lightly, smiling when she gave a giddy laugh. “Come on, the game isn’t done yet! We might not even win.”

“Alexia!”

Playing the rest of the game after such an emotional high was probably harder than rehab itself. Your legs were about as stable as jelly, and everytime you thought you’d finally willed the tears away, your eyesight glazed over again. 

Evidently, the world was on your side today.

Hearing that whistle blow evoked that same bottled up feeling from before as you fell to your knees in relief. The word ‘surreal’ never felt more fitting than it did as you slumped over onto your back, the sky above you coloured with the pink and orange of Lisbon’s setting sun. Weirdly, there wasn’t much on your mind, it was more of a quiet hum that brought peace, like a distant radio or the pattering of rain against a window. The only thing that stood out to you was the fact you had accomplished the one thing that always seemed to escape you. But not anymore.

It was in this moment where you realised that this dream of yours was never just about achieving your end goal - it was about becoming the person with the strength to get there. This victory isn’t just about what you’ve gained, but who you’ve become. You’ve honoured your potential in a way you never could have imagined, and though the road to get here was long, dark, and uncomfortably bumpy, you were now able to reap the benefits of your determination that had certainly reached new heights. 

There was a phrase you first heard when you were younger: ‘it took a village.’ Back then, you would scrunch your nose up at it, unsure what it meant or what on earth a village had to do with anything. However, now as an adult with a support system that was built on an indestructible foundation of love, you knew that it truly did take a village to thrive. 

It was embedded in human nature since the first generation of life that having a shoulder to cry on and a soul to confide in, as well as people to laugh and share the joys with, were the most important thing anybody could need. Where you might have pushed that away in the past and claimed it wasn’t what you needed, there isn’t a better moment to acknowledge that without that, this moment simply would not have happened.

And when you raise the trophy, with a gold medal around your neck, confetti in your hair, and your newfound family around you, you stand firm in the assurance that you are capable of anything.

—

let me know what you think :) for now at least, this is the last idea i have for this world, if there is anything you wanna see in a story, let me know! i love this world and will never be able to leave it alone, so you are welcome to bombard me with any ideas, big or small. im very very very thankful for all the love this little universe has gotten so thank you for reading it, i couldn't have imagined it would go like this! but it's been one of my favourite things ive done and that is down to all the lovely people reading it. lotta love for you all <3

[caplanbuckybarnes]

In The Lonely Shadows (2/2) Dean W.

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben.

the first part of this was requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists. 

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: people were rabid about asking me for a part two. So please, enjoy!

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, dean returns. sassy & protective crowley

[READ PART ONE HERE]

Read on Ao3!

--

Dean watched as your chest heaved up and down with every breath you took. The wind was howling outside, with rain pouring down. He was only partially soaked, having run for cover under teh pitiful awning above your hotel door. A suitcase was tucked into one hand and a backpack filled with supplies slung over the shoulder. He'd wanted to say goodbye before he left. But he couldn't. He was a coward, after all. He'd had a few visits from Castiel and Crowley, neither of them saying a word about you.

Though, he asked. He hasn’t spoken a word about Sam, either. The horror of watching Sam fall into the pits of Hell with Adam devastated him. So he ran away. He ran away to the person who would get him away from the hunter’s life, Lisa and Ben. He played pretend for as long as he possibly could.

Until he couldn’t keep up with the facade anymore. All he did was think about you, and the life the pair of you could have had. He’d find himself hovering over your name in his cellphone but never pressing the call button. Oftentimes, he’s stay up late at night, while Lisa laid peacefully next to him sleeping.  He knew he couldn’t lie to her forever about what - or who - truly had his heart.

Oftentimes, when he dreamed, it was about you, your face and your hands wrapped tightly in his as you started behind him on hunts. Thats what he loved about you the most, how much you trusted him to protect you.

So months after he departed, he located you in this dingy motel, where rodents and garbage littered the parking lot, and a few street lamps flickered dangerously in this damned storm. He’d gotten a replacement key to your room, claiming to the sketchy old man at the kiosk that he was your husband and you didn’t leave the key outside for him. So, on the threshold of the hotel room is where he stood, his fight or flight response kicking in the moment he laid eyes on you again.

He hadn’t seen you in months, far too long. But not long enough to forget the way your cheeks puffed out while you were embarrassed or the way your hair always fell into your face when you’d laugh at his stupid jokes. He couldn’t forget the way you would shuffle into his warmth at night, either.

God, did he miss the way you infected all of his clothing with your perfumes. 

He hesitantly stepped into the room, only to stop midway through in almost a panic. What if you moved on? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you shot him? He wondered at that moment if you held any protection on you, or if you’d thrown all of it away.

But he took the chance anyway and stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him quietly. He quietly toed out of his shoes and turned around before fully surveying the room. He couldn’t see any other person’s belongings in the room, so he assumed you were indeed alone.

Nervously, he tiptoed to the bed and studied your face for a long moment. He remembered everything about you-- your eyelashes, the dimple on your cheek. He wanted to reach out to you, nearly stopping himself as he felt his arm move without his command. He brushed his fingers against your cheek before he knew what he was doing and stepped back as your eyes had flung open in terror.

“Y/N,Y/N, it’s me, it’s Dean,” he said, reaching behind him for the pistol he always carried with him, though, he would never attempt to hurt you in any sort of way. “Hey, hey.”

“Dean?” you blinked through the darkness of the room. You must have been sleeping. Because you thought you heard Dean’s voice. And you thought you seen him standing mere inches away from where you slept on the bed.

Before he could get the chance to respond, another voice filled the room, a voice you’d come to recognize and acknowledge throughout these last few months.

“She doesn’t need you, Squirrel. She’s doing great without you.” Crowley’s voice echoed in the small room. 

Pulling yourself into a sitting position on the bed, you wiped at your eyes before switching your gaze between the pair in front of you. Crowley had been watching you over the weeks, which you had grown weirdly accustomed to, so it was no surprise that he had appeared out of the blue. What had startle you, was the other man standing mere inches away from you. If you just lifted your arm a few inches, you would be able to clasp your hands together.

“You left her high and dry after Moose had fallen into the depths of Hell, where, mind you, he’s been shacking it up with Lucifer. You should hear the agonies and woes from him.”

You could see the agitated twitch in Dean’s cheekbones, even in the poor excuse of light shining through the cracked window curtains.

“But now, back to the matter at hand, hmm?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the two-night lamps turned on, casting the room in sudden brightness that none of you was prepared for.

“How’s Lisa and Ben?” Crowley smirked as Dean looked entirely uncomfortable at the jabs. “Didn’t want to be a family man anymore, huh? Did she decide she didn’t want your baggage?”

“It’s none of your business, Crowley,” Dean quipped. He snuck a look towards you and almost melted at the sight of tears in your eyelids. He wanted to erase the heartbreak he had caused you. He wanted to erase the pain away from you.

He only wanted you to forgive him. He wanted you and only you. He wished he hadn’t run off after Sam had gone to Hell, but he was broken and insecure. He was scared that you would leave him as well, so he did the only thing he could think of doing at the time: He ran away.

He begged for Lisa to forgive him, and she did. She took him in immediately, even after he explained all that went down with Lucifer and Adam and Sam. She took care of him. And for a while, he could forget all the pain. He could mourn the loss of his brother in peace. But there had always been a hole in his heart that Lisa nor ben would veer be able to fill.

He hadn’t known it at the time until he had sat up the night before and wallowed in misery after having nothing but dreams and nightmares about you for months.

“No harsh words, Not Moose?” Crowley taunted as he took a step toward you, causing Dean to nearly topple backwards onto the bed you were still sitting on. “No quips? Nothing? What do you have to say for yourself? Because while you were playing house, I was left to pick up the piece of her broken heart! How noble of you.  Leave her behind to wallow in misery, and now what? You expect her to swoon because you're back? Pathetic."”

You never thought you would see the day when the king of hell would be red in the face at the Winchesters. But here he was, pointing a threatening finger in Dean’s direction while the other man looked like a kicked puppy. 

You wanted Crowley to stop the insults at Dean. But the fact that he was protecting you in this way meant so much to you. You never knew how much Crowley actually cared about you. 

"I bet she’s just thrilled to have you back. Nothing says 'I care' like a good old-fashioned abandonment, right?" Crowley scoffed.

“Crowley, enough,” you sighed as you finally pushed the duvet away from your body and stood up, causing Dean to look at you with hope. With your request, Crowley quieted down, though he didn’t cease the glare or scowl on his features. Ignoring him, you took a breath, taking Dean’s height in stride. “So, what? You show up at my doorstep and nearly scare me to death, for what?”

“I was wrong,” Dean swallowed, blinking slowly as tears piled against his eyelids. “I never should have left you the way i had. You were mourning Sam as well, and I was a coward for leaving you. I never once stopped thinking about you. I never once let you out of my mind. Lisa knew it, Ben knew it.’

“I’m not forgiving you, Dean.” you held your ground, even as you had to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “How could I forgive you? Do you know what the hell I’ve been through? You weren’t the only one to lose a brother, you know? Sam was my family as well.”

He opened his mouth, only for you to cut him off.

“It’s been fourteen months, Dean—fourteen long, terrible months. I celebrated Sam’s birthday without you. I celebrated your birthday without you. Crowley was the only one to check with me. Do you know he saved me from death on numerous occasions? That could have been you.”

He looked utterly defeated at the mention of the birthday celebrations. He could only imagine you singing to yourself with some cheap cake and a gas station lighter, wishing for the family you once held as you blew out the candles.

“Dean, I don’t know whether to hit you, kiss you, or put a bullet in you.” you scowled, pushing past him to walk over to the bathroom to wash your face. Leaving the door open, you heard Dean shuffle around Crowley to get to you again. 

“I can’t leave you, not again. Never again,” he watched your reflection as you grabbed for a hand towel and wiped the water from your face. 

Glaring at him momentarily, you sighed heavily before turning around and leaning against the counter. “Crowley will kill me for this. But I can’t help but think that I’m still in love with you. We can talk more about this in the morning. I had a long few weeks, and I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Eagerly, Dean followed you out of the bathroom, barely noticing Crowley’s absence as he tucked you into the bed before he climbed in himself.

--

**totally up for a part three IF people want it. So please, please, please, if you enjoyed this reblog this & leave comments.

[jflemings]

— english love affair

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie moves to portland but the months leading up to her departure plague her mind

warnings: smut & angst. she’s loooooong. and probably got a few mistakes so just ignore that for my sake xx

a/n: flashbacks are in italics

୧ ‧₊˚ 💋 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about / The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain / I can't forget, my English love affair / Today, I'm seven thousand miles away / The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget / My English love affair

you lay your head on jessie’s pelvis as she catches her breath. her face is flushed and sweat is gathering at her hairline, her legs have now gone limp over your shoulders but the faint imprint of your ears on her inner thighs, as well as the bruises forming, is enough evidence that you were there.

she runs her fingers through your scalp, a stark difference to how tightly she was pulling at the roots of your hair just moments before.

your own hands travel up her sides and you slowly push yourself onto your hands and knees, practically folding jessie in half in the process. you lean down and capture her lips in a slow kiss, smiling when she jumps as your nipple grazes her clit.

“still sensitive?” you mumble against her. your slow kiss turns to opened mouth kisses along her cheek and down her neck as she wraps one arm around your shoulders.

she releases a breath “well, you kinda just rocked my world so i’d say so”

you smirk and tuck your head into the crook of her neck “just doing what i do best” you say cockily as your hand cradles her jaw “unless… that wasn’t good enough for you?”

your mocking tone and hand firmly grasping jessie’s jaw makes her wet all over again, even though you just made her cum not even seven minutes ago. you lean further into her allow your body to graze her heat, making her twitch and grind against you. a low whine comes from the back of her throat.

a hand slyly travels down between the two of you and you place your fingers firmly over jessie’s clit. the pressure makes her begin to arch off the plush white comforter of your bed. your smirk slowly slides into something more wicked, more teasing, as you continue to apply pressure where she’s sensitive.

jessie releases a shuddering breath “oh my god”

you test the waters and begin to circle her clit slowly “c’mon jess” you tease, sitting back on your haunches. jessie’s hands hook under the back of her knees, keeping her spread open for you to do as you please. “give me another”

jessie scrubs her hand over her face and groans. she sits up and peers out the window of her bedroom, squinting slightly as her eyes adjust to the dark.

she shifts uncomfortably and takes note of the dampness of her underwear. this wasn’t the first time she’s woken up in the middle of a dream where you were on top of her. or under her. or between her legs. in fact, it was the fourth time in the past two weeks.

the move to portland had gone fairly smooth, all things considered, but one thing that continued to bother her was the way the two of you left things. it was a weird gray area, one that she didn’t know how to navigate yet. there was no conversation or formal ending of whatever the two of you had but it made sense that you weren’t going to continue. there was now miles of land and ocean separating the two of you, and jessie didn’t think it would be fair to keep going back and forth when there was so much distance.

only, now she was starting to regret it.

what had started as drunk sex after a team night out lead to unmistakeable and unmaskable feelings. intense ones that had followed jessie across the pond.

the canadian looks at her phone on her bedside table and sighs. she could text you, or call in the morning. but what would she say? ‘hey i keep having wet dreams about us having sex because i’m actually in love with you’ or, what about ‘sorry for texting you at two in the morning after i’ve been gone for almost a month but i’m actually really missing you and what we had’

before she can even think about it, she pulls herself out of bed and goes into the bathroom, grabbing a clean pair of underwear out of her drawer as she passes. jessie looks at herself in the mirror and rolls her eyes. she wants nothing more than to tell herself that she’s being stupid, or ridiculous, or obsessive, but she can’t. she knew what she was getting herself into when the two of you didn’t have a conversation about what you were as a pair or to eachother, and it didn’t seem fair to berate herself over something that, really, was as much your fault as it was hers.

it was kind of funny if she thought about it for a second. you had gotten yourselves into this arrangement accidentally and didn’t talk about what it was, even after jessie had bought you a toothbrush to keep at hers and made room in her closet for you to put a few things. it snowballed into something more than just sex and she felt like a coward for not talking to you about it sooner.

you and jessie walk hand in hand down street on the way back to your apartment. your heeled boots click clack against the cement of the sidewalk and jessie’s keys cling and clatter together in the pocket. the sky above you grumbles low and with warning, like it’s doing a last call for everyone to get inside.

jessie looks at the sky with squinted eyes “we’ve probably got less than five minutes until it starts pouring” she says with a huff.

you knock your shoulders together “it’s been threatening to rain all night and it hasn’t yet. i think we’ll be fine”

the canadian rolls her eyes at you just as you put your hand around her shoulder, your hands still interlocked, and pull her into you. she ducks her head into the crook of your neck and sighs “i’m serious”

“so am i” you giggle “and if the rain catches us we’ll almost be in my apartment anyway”

the sky grumbles mercilessly again, and soon the sound of rain encapsulates the two of you. jessie groans into your neck and wraps her arm around your waist to pull you in further.

“we’ll be in my apartment anyway” she mocks

“i said almost”

“whatever”

with a belief that the two of you will still manage to get out of the rain not completely soaked to the bone, you begin to pick up the pace. jessie’s pulled her head out of your neck but still holds you close, craning her neck to look at the sky every so often. her obsessive checking doesn’t do either of you any favours as the rain starts to pelt, however.

she pulls you under a bus stop quickly “we should’ve just taken millie up on her offer to drop us home”

you nod in agreement before laying your head on her shoulder, listening to the rain hit the roof of the enclosed bus stop. jessie pulls out her phone and opens up the uber app, sighing in annoyance when she sees the outrageous prices “a taxi won’t be much better than these prices” she mumbles

“we could just walk the rest of the way, it’s only a block and a half”

she peers out from under the roof “yeah, okay” she says.

you interlock arms and begin to speed walk down the block, the sound of infectious giggling following you all the way to your street. you pull jessie impossibly closer before interlocking your cold hands, grinning like a child when you, again, pick up your pace.

jessie looks at you confused before you break out into a run, pulling her along with you and forcing her to keep up. the sound of your footsteps hitting the wet pavement can hardly be heard over jessie’s giggling and gasping.

“emma would kill us” she says as she finally pulls on your hand to get you to slow down “you’re already coming back from a calf injury”

you roll your eyes at her “what emma doesn’t know won’t hurt her”

your mascara is running down your face and the street lamp behind you creates a glow around your head, catching the rain in the light. if you were to look into a mirror you’d probably say that you look like a wreck, but jessie thinks you look like an angel.

the canadian smiles and grabs your face with both hands, pulling your lips to hers in a soft kiss. your hands fall to her hips just as she pulls you closer, throwing one arm loosely around your neck. she can taste rain water and red wine on your lips as she kisses you with more intent, licking into your mouth and savouring the taste.

she can feel her hair sticking to her head and she knows that there’s every chance she’s going to catch a cold if she doesn’t get the two of you inside the warm sanctuary of your home soon, but she can’t quite bring herself to care as she gets drunk off you.

she shakes her head and rids herself of her damp underwear, throwing it into a corner of her bathroom before she pulls the clean pair on. she splashes cold water on her face and huffs, bracing herself in her sink to just take a breath. the regret continues to plague her even as she retreats back to her room and tucks herself back into bed.

— —

jessie throws her head back as she fails to get on the end of another pass from hina. she sends her an apologetic wave and a tight lipped smile, sighing in relief when rob says to take a hydration break.

she stands towards the back of the circle of players surrounding the water bottles. after she went back to bed last night it still took an extra forty five minutes for her to fall back asleep, her inability to get comfortable and the images of you stopping her from getting the rest she needed.

janine slides up next to her “are you okay?” she asks lowly “you look out of it”

“didn’t get much sleep last night” jessie answers without missing a beat.

janine stays quiet for a moment, studying jessie and her demeanour. she furrows her brows and tilts her head, her eyes narrowing “you should go home”

jessie raises her brows and throws her a sideways look “i don’t need to go home. i’ll be fine”

“jess—”

“seriously janine” jessie’s face pinches and she lowers her voice, an authoritative lint to her voice “i’m fine”

janine holds up her hands in a defensive manner and puts the waterbottle back in the cooler, stepping away to give jessie the space she wants. the canadian captain sighs outwardly when she sees sinc standing off to the side in her peripheral.

morgan and hina stand either side of her caught up in what obviously was a three way conversation before janine and jessie’s conversation caught her attention. there’s a look of indifference on her face but the slightest curl of her lip tells jessie that she’s got something to say. whether that something is going to end in jessie being sat down for a talk, she doesn’t know.

the rest of training continues almost the way it started: missed passes, badly timed runs and crossbar shots galore.

it’s when jessie’s huffing about whilst packing her things does sinc attack. she places her bag on the floor, slots herself into kelli’s empty cubby and leans her elbows on her knees.

“jess” she says

“hmm” jessie hums back as she grabs her bike helmet.

“you got a minute?”

the london native pauses and looks down to where janine and sam are talking eachother’s ear’s off animatedly. the words flower arrangements and centre pieces can be heard all across the change room, so jessie knows that her best friend hasn’t put their old captain up to this.

she sits silently and gestures sinc to talk.

“today, what was that? i’ve never seen you so out of it, even when you were just starting out on the national team” she asks softly, ducking her head

jessie rubs a hand over her face “i didn’t get enough sleep. i kept waking up through the night”

“i’ve seen you run circles on less energy” she pointedly says “is that really it?”

jessie chews the inside of her cheek in contemplation. “there’s just this girl” she mutters “her and i aren’t really speaking anymore”

sinc doesn’t do very well in masking the surprise on her face “a girl?” her voice jumps an octave before she clears her throat subtly “is she— were you…?”

“we never… it was never spoken about”

“never spoken about?”

jessie’s face flushes “yeah”

“okay” sinc purses her lips “well what’s stopping you from talking about it now?”

“did you not hear me? we don’t talk anymore. i can’t just call her”

“so you’re stopping yourself?”

she groans and flops down into her own cubby “we haven’t spoken since i left and now it just feels like i’ve left it too late. i don’t want to crash in on her life if she’s not missing my presence”

sinc sighs briefly looks in janine’s direction before turning her attention back to jessie. “look, jess, you’ve only been in portland for a month and a half so i’m willing to bet that she’s losing just as much sleep as you are over this.” she says with intent, her unblinking stare commanding jessie’s attention “and i think you’ll regret it in the long run — not reaching out to her.”

“thats what i’m afraid of” jessie mutters, leaning further back into her cubby. she closes her eyes and lets a heavy sigh pass her lips.

sinc gently placed her hand over jessie’s knee, patting it once “put yourself at ease and call her. maybe you’ll get a full night’s sleep.”

——

jessie braces herself on her forearms and tucks her head into your neck. you can hear her ragged breaths, and feel her hot skin on yours as she rolls her hips. your hand falls to the back of her head and your fingers thread through her hair, tugging at her roots.

“oh my god” you moan into the air, gasping when she pulls her hips back and thrusts into you hard “jess” you say breathlessly.

“i know” her hand snakes down between your bodies and her fingers circle your clit tightly “just one more f’me, c’mon pretty girl”

she ruts into you, matching the own pace of her fingers, and moans when the harness provides her with her own satisfaction. she feels your nails claw at her back as you arch further into her and wrap your legs around her waist, drawing her into you impossibly further.

the combined sound of your breathy moans and her grunts fill her bedroom, the tension thickening around you. the sound of you is music to her ears as she pushes you to the edge. every groan, moan, breath and whine only spurs her on further, pushing her to get you there.

jessie curls one arm underneath you and pushes herself up, pulling you along with her. she sits back on her legs and you wrap yourself around her, rolling your hips feverishly. she watches you as you throw your head back and release a guttural moan.

“i’m so close— oh fuck! don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop”

your legs shake around jessie as you jump off the ledge, the pressure on your clit slowly subsiding as she removes her hand. her hands loop under your arms as she lays you flat on your back, drawing her hips back and bottoming out again.

jessie pumps into you with intent, the small, quick strokes doing more to get her off than bring you to another orgasm. the coil in her belly curls even tighter around itself and she feels herself begin to tip over, diving headfirst into an overwhelming orgasm.

with a long, drawn out moan she relaxes on top of you. your arms stay wrapped securely around her but your legs unhook themselves and slide off her slick skin. you hiss as she sits up and pulls out, throwing the strap onto the ground beside her bed before flopping back down on top of you.

“oh my god” she breathily says

you scratch at her scalp soothingly “rough day?”

“can you tell” she laughs, laying her head on your collarbones “i know that wasn’t really what you were expecting when you came over. i’m sorry”

you kiss your teeth “if that’s what you choose to do after a bad day then i’m all for it” laughing, you kiss her forehead “but only if i’m on the receiving end of it”

“no one else would be”

“no one else at all?”

jessie shakes her head and tries to fight off a yawn “nope”

the two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before jessie rolls off you and sits up on the edge of the bed “do you want anything? some food, drink, a shower?” she questions

“i’m gonna have a shower, if that’s okay with you”

she waves her hand in the direction of her bathroom “go for it. take as long as you need, i’ll start dinner”

the canadian stands and begins to put her clothes back on, picking yours up as she goes. she folds them neatly before placing them on the edge of her bed and leaning over to give you a sweet kiss.

“you don’t want to get in with me?” you ask curiously. normally jessie would be jumping straight into the shower with you and then you’d either eat together or stay up late watching whatever trashy reality tv was on. not getting dressed and offering to cook without you.

she tilts her head “i can but i just had something special for dinner planned so i figured i’d get started on that and then just jump in when you’re finished”

you pour but relent, kissing her again “okay. i won’t be long”

jessie turns and grabs you some clothes out of her closet. she also places her fluffiest pair of bed socks on top of the small pile, smiling at you cheekily when you cock a brow.

“dinner and fluffy socks? have i missed an important date?” you smile.

jessie’s heart stutters in her chest at the sight of you sitting on her bed still naked and smiling. a blush blooms across her freckled cheeks as you coo over her “no, i just wanted to do something special”

“you’re special enough”

if she had guts or metaphorical balls of steel she’d call you. but she doesn’t. instead, she makes herself your favourite meal and sulks while eating it all by herself. she ignores janine’s text asking you to come over and morgan and soph spamming the groupchat with close up unflattering close up game day photos.

she stalks your social media and then scrolls through her camera roll looking at photos she’d taken of you and everything you did together. candids of you in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear in her kitchen, ones of you smiling at her across the table at breakfast, you in your coat during cold champions league nights, funny ones from unflattering angles.

she looks at all of it.

she throws a pity party for herself and wears the fluffy bed socks. she runs every memory through her head like an old film strip burning up. she can see every inch and curve of your body like you’re right in front of her, like she’s able to just reach out and touch you.

it’s something that she knows can never be taken from her. from that first night when you dragged her up the stairs of your apartment building to the last night you spent in eachother’s arms before she left. she knows that no one else gets to have those experiences with you, that they were all uniquely hers to have and hold.

it didn’t matter if you’d already moved on and had somebody else to whisper sweet nothings to, those memories were always yours and hers. every feeling, every sound, every emotion, was real and true and hers.

the realisation brings a sense of peace to her and as she sinks back into her couch. her head rolls back against the top of her couch and she shuts her eyes, the tv fading into the background and serving as nothing more than white noise as sleep begins to fogs her mind.

jessie’s body goes completely slack, the open arms of sleep finally embracing her, when her phone buzzes from the table. she blinks herself awake and reaches for her phone, jaw dropping in disbelief.

y/n

hey, how are you doing? i’ve been thinking about you.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The part where Jeremiah’s like if I start kissing you I’m scared I won’t be able to stop or something like that! Chills

My Jeremiah stuff keeps flopping, why are you doing this to me...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Under the moonlit sky of the golf course, everyone was getting ready for bed. Steven and Taylor had gotten tablecloths and cushions from the debutante ballroom. It wasn’t as comfortable as a real bed, but it was better than sleeping on the grass. At least it was summer. And thank god it wasn’t pouring rain.

Not feeling tired yet, you decided to walk around. These past nights, your dreams have been haunted by bright blue eyes and a sweet smile, as if pressing you to make a move on Jeremiah Fisher. You shared a kiss on the boardwalk last summer and didn’t stop thinking about it all year. It was embarrassingly pathetic.

Talking about Jeremiah, you spotted him by the golf cart, folding tablecloths to make blankets. A smile curled on your lips and you walked toward him. 

‘’Hey, Jere.’’ 

‘’Hey,’’ he returned, short and dry. 

A frown drew between your eyebrows. ‘’Do you want to go inside and finish the movie?’’ 

‘’Not really. It’s kinda late.’’ He continued folding the tablecloths, completely ignoring you. 

‘’Oh. Okay.’’ You nodded, understanding. It was late. ‘’If you ever need a place to sleep tomorrow night, you can come to my house. I’m sure my parents—’’ 

‘’That’s very kind of you, but no thanks.’’ 

You lowered your eyes at the grass, watching it slip between your toes in your sandals. You were trying to be kind, but he obviously didn't want your help. 

He was still upset about the house and his aunt and dad teaming up to sell it, but there was something else. Something related to you. 

Last night, on the boardwalk, he was sweet and touchy and even gave you some of his candy he and the boys won. Now, he was a different person. Cold. Distant. It’s like he didn’t want to talk to you, to be with you.

You could only think of one thing related to you that Jeremiah could be acting strange over. 

‘’Is it because of the kiss we shared last summer?’’

You hadn't talked about it since it happened and kisses often make things awkward in friendships.

Jeremiah shook his head. ‘’It’s not that,’’ he said. ‘’I…I liked the kiss.’’ 

‘’Then why do you keep pushing me away? Since you arrived in Cousins, you’ve been so confusing. You almost hold my hand in the theater and now you push me away like I have plague. I can’t decipher those mixed signals, Jeremiah. I'm not a detective, I'm a teenage girl.’’

With a deep breath, Jeremiah looked directly into your eyes. ‘’Because when I’m alone with you, all I think about is kissing you and if I kiss you, I don’t know that I can ever stop.’’

His words hung in the air, mixing with the crickets' chirp, a confession of feelings you were not expecting to hear tonight — or ever. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, realizing that you had been wrong about Jeremiah. He wasn’t giving you mixed signals because he was playing with you, he was giving you mixed signals because he was scared of his feelings for you. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jeremiah spoke first. 

‘’Life has been really hard these past months, but I never wanted to push you away. I wanted to call you after our kiss, I wanted to ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you again. But I found out about my mom and I couldn’t think about anything else,’’ he admitted, his voice soft and earnest. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, but you didn’t see any. 

‘’When I saw you at Rosie’s, I was so happy.’’ A genuine soft smile tugged at his lips, thinking back to two days ago. ‘’Seeing you face to face is much better than through your instagram.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’You stalked my instagram?’’ 

Jeremiah covered his face and groaned, embarrassed. ‘’Is that all you picked up?’’ 

You uncovered his face and intertwined your fingers with his. ‘’No, but it’s an interesting anecdote. I didn’t know you were the type of guy who stalked girls on social media.’’ 

‘’I’m not!’’ he defended, regretting saying that now.

‘’I know.’’ You chuckled. ‘’I’m just teasing you.’’ 

A sense of warmth and comfort enveloped the two of you, the tension that had been lingering between you dissipating. Although all of your friends were sleeping a few meters nearby, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you. Especially when you looked up into his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in their beauty and forget everything else.

Jeremiah let out a small laugh, relieved that you were taking his confession and embarrassment in good spirits. He looked down at your lips, thinking about the last time he tasted the vanilla cupcake lip gloss on them. Were you still wearing the same? It probably wore off by now, but Jeremiah was dying to know if you tasted the same. 

Taking a small breath of courage, he leaned in closer, closing the distance between you and gently pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tender, Jeremiah’s hand coming to cup your face gently while yours reached his shoulder to pull him down to your height. 

When you broke apart, you smiled against his lips, dying to kiss him again. ‘’Do you want to set your blanket next to mine?’’ you suggested, glints of hope in your eyes.

Jeremiah nodded. ‘’If that’s okay with you.’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

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[jaylver]

NO COMPETITION SERIES

— a series of 3 hockey boys and an aussie footballer trying to win over the love of their lives

PAIRINGS: enhypen!hyung line x reader

GENRE: college sports au, romance, angst, humour

STATUS: completed

NOTES: set in the same au, but some of the timelines are different!

© jaylver 2023

WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

READ HERE

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl.

READ HERE

MIDNIGHT RAIN (BACK TO YOU) — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love.

READ HERE

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that. 

READ HERE

——

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

—

( taglist CLOSED!!! : @1800-beomgyu @yawnzshit @shinrjj @skzenhalove @taekwondoes @lalalalawon @ce1ight @enhacqke @winteringdream @strvlveera @rikisly @rikakhai @renchai @sievenderz @fariylixie0915 @enhastolemyheart @ckline35 @eulris @yenqa @jayfrvr @tobiosbbyghorl @liikno @vizstars @kells5595 @addictedtohobi )

——

[rainbogen]

Does Mario have to swim through this place every time he goes to and from the dream world? That must get tedious after a while.

It's later revealed that all of the NPCs you meet in the dream world are created by the person who is having the dream. Meaning this is Luigi subconsciously flattering himself, which I find so funny.

The exact nature of Dreamy Luigi is such a fascinating mystery. Obviously, he's Luigi's eyes and ears for what happens in the dream world. But for a mere figment of Luigi's subconscious he has some surprising amount of self awareness, seeing as he was able to seperately identify himself and give himself a name of his own.

There are the moments I live for.

To all the gamers out there: How many of you actually use the item shops in Mario and Luigi games? I feel like the games give you so many healing items out in the field and in battles that you never need to really stock up. And the equipment you get from beating bosses and completing side quests feels a lot better than anything you can buy.

I have so many things to say about this boss that I've decided to make them into their own seperate entry. For now I'll just say that I love just how expressive the regular Mario is here; first he's angry at Peach being kidnapped and then he'd shocked by the evil duplicate.

I have to wonder: Do Luigi and Dreamy Luigi share memories? Because even though most dreams get saved to neither short nor long term memory, Luigi never seems confused as to what is going on.

If he does remember everything, would that mean Luigi suffers from a sucky form of lucid dreaming? As in, he's just as conscious asleep as he is while awake. Maybe that would also tie into and even explain his spacy disposition.

[smoshyourheadin]

some comfort soencer agnew :(

It’s okay, you can cry now.

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

a/n: OH WE’RE SO BACK SMOSHYOURHEADIN NATION!! i’ve missed y’all sooo much!!! kinda short but enjoy none the less 🫶 requests are open <3

as you lay on his bed, the sound of raindrops tap against the windows gently as you feel a tear roll down your cheek. his room is softly lit by the glow of the tv which is playing some shitty reality show, with plush blankets and pillows on his bed.

spencer and you met when your friend damien had invited you to be a guest speaker at his ‘funeral’ - where spencer made your sides hurt with how funny he was. from the moment you met him, there was an undeniable chemistry between you. over time, you and spencer started hanging out more, texting and calling, meeting up for coffee before he had to go to work, and you’d also started to convince damien to invite on the channel more often, as an excuse to see him - ian and anthony eventually hiring you to work on art and design.

despite the growing closeness, neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged the romantic tension that occasionally surfaced. your friendship had a mix of intimacy and comfort that neither of you wanted to jeopardize by labeling it. you were each other's confidants, sharing dreams, fears, and everything inbetween.

“hey there, y’okay?” spencer’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, as he walks into his room with two cans of sprite, seeing you blink away tears.

“um, yeah. no. i don’t know” you sit up and wipe your face, sniffling gently, and you cross your legs as he sits to face you on the end of his bed, your knees touching his.

“d’you wanna talk about anything?” he looks into your eyes, gaze soft but firm somehow.

“um,” you look away as you feel more tears forming, a lump creeping into your throat “i just... feel like i'm constantly running, trying to keep up with everything. the videos, the comments, the expectations. it's like... it's never enough, you know?"

spencer nods, his hand moving to rest atop yours. "i get it. this world can be overwhelming. but you don't have to face it alone. we're a team, remember?"

you squeeze his hand, finding a bit of strength in his touch. "i know, it's just... sometimes i feel like i'm letting everyone down. like i'm not good enough."

his eyes soften even more, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in a good way.

"you're more than enough. you bring so much joy and creativity to everything you do. and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. it doesn't mean you're failing."

you take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. "i guess i just need to hear that sometimes. that it's okay to not be perfect."

spencer shifts closer, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. "no one expects you to be perfect. especially not me. i just want you to be you. because that's more than enough."

his words break something loose inside you, and the tears start to flow freely. spencer pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as you let out all the pent-up emotions. his embrace is warm and reassuring, a safe haven from the storm raging inside you. you inhale deeply, and notice he smells like old books and coffee,

“it’s okay, you can cry now” he says into you hair as you sob, his fingers gently brushing through you hair

after a while, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude. "thank you, spencer. for being here, for understanding."

he smiles, a small, comforting smile. "always. you mean a lot to me, y’know that?"

you nod, a small smile of your own forming. "you mean a lot to me too, spence."

he takes a deep breath, and for a moment, you see something flicker in his eyes.

you move yourself next to him, and lay your head on his shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, as you close your eyes, feeling content in the moment. the sound of the rain, the flickering light of the tv, and the steady beat of his heart lull you into a sense of calm.

and in that quiet moment, with the rain still pattering against the windows, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together.

[xxblairexxss]

Tradition

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

In which you decided to surprise Charles to cheer him up. Based on this,

You had been with Charles ever since he was in Formula 2. You were there and witnessed every sweats and hard work he put in to chase his dream. You knew him at the back of your hand and you knew very well how he would always put on his mask to cover up his actual emotions. The first time you saw him putting the mask on was when he had a race in Baku, only a few days after Hervé Leclerc passed away.

“Good luck, Charles. Come back to me in one shape.” You mumbled into his chest as he pulled you into a tight hug. When he pulled away and you locked eyes with him, all you could see was an unwavering stare full of determination. “Thank you, bébé. I promise. Wait for me, alright?”

He won the race and you were so elated that you couldn’t stop crying. You saw him stepped on a podium with a smile, completely illuminated the fact that he lost his father 4 days ago and that he wasn’t and won’t be there to give him a hug and to witness his win anymore.

But all those strong facade he had came crashing down when he pulled you into his driver’s room after all media sessions and immediately locked you in his arms, tears rolled down his eyes almost instantly. “I managed to block all thoughts during the race but when I stepped on the podium, part of me was looking for his face, his smile. When I went and hugged the teams, I was looking for him to hear him say ‘You did it, son.’ as he always did. How do I get used to this, baby.” “You’ll be okay, Charles. I promise it’ll be okay but it takes time, don’t push yourself to be strong.” You placed your chin on his shoulders as your hand went to the back of his head to gently massage the back of his hair.

A year later, he lost his grandmother. You have met her a lot of times and she was the sweetest ever. Charles always talked about how his grandmother would sew a little cross on his race suit before he raced but he let it go when she passed away and he stopped having a small cross on his race suit.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

His mood hasn’t been very bright this season. The constant problems with the car, the sudden DNF in Bahrain, the crash in Miami’s qualifying, you knew he was struggling mentally but again, the mask.

Until one day you were alone in your hotel room in Austria as Charles went to the paddock to have a short briefing regarding the upgrades. He left his Ferrari hoodie because it started raining and he was sensitive to cold, he said.

So you took the jacket and pulled out a travel sewing kit that you brought from home and started to sew a small hand embroidery heart at the end of the sleeve. God knows how many errors you had when you first made an attempt to follow the Youtube tutorials but guess it was all worth it.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

When he came back, you were sitting on the bed with the hoodie hidden under the duvet and you grinned at him as he made his way to sit in front of you. He tucked the loose strand of hair behind your ear and left a peck on your nose. “Hi, pretty girl.” “Hi, baby!” You replied, still keeping the grin on your face. He chuckled and cocked an eyebrow, eyes still locked with yours. “Precious, I know that smile very well. Did you have something to tell me?”

That was when you took the hoodie and handed it to him. He took it, but full of confusion because it’s not like you never worn his shirts or hoodies before. “Look at this.” You pointed at the small, grey coloured embroidery heart. “It’s not a good luck charm, I know you don’t believe nor do you need it. I just thought it would remind you about your late grandmother, about how strong you are and how far you have made it.”

“I love it, baby. It’s cute.”

“You think so…?”

“Yeah! Are you kidding me? How could I not love this? Oh, I am so gonna show this off to everyone. I’m gonna pretend as if I’m scratching my hair so this could be seen in the camera or like playing with my bracelets so everyone can see it.”

“Stop it!” You laughed and cupped on his cheeks. How could you not fall in love with him.

charles_leclerc

Liked by f1 and 897,608 others

charles_leclerc It feels good to be back in the podium. We'll work flat out to be back on the top step as soon as possible

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noahschnapp 👏🏼👏🏼

charlesdimples is that your good luck charm

sharllerc now we know why you are back on podium

lordperceval PARENTSS ❤️

[repulsiveliquidation]

Masterlist.

Requests are open. If there is a WIPs you'd like to offer ideas for, feel free!

I write for Arsenal WFC and FC Barcelona Femeni, but players from other teams are more than welcome, especially those whom i've written for before. Please include your player of choice and your detailed request when you leave them in my inbox! I am not opposed to brainstorming in my DMs but please understand that I may not respond promptly but I will get back to you!

fluff = 💛, angst = 🚨, smut = 🔞

WIPs

Writer x Reader

Ewa Pajor

Glass Pane 🔞

Kika Nazareth

Playing Cards 🔞

Grace Clinton

Mikrokosmos 💛

Aggie Beever-Jones

One Thing Led To Another 🔞

Laia Codina

Reservation 🔞

Alessia Russo

Puppy Eyes 🔞

Jessie Fleming

We Might As Well Try 🔞

You Drew Stars Around My Scars 🚨🔞

Thorn in my Side 🚨

Wake Up Call 🔞

Jill Roord

The White Suit 🔞

Oral Fixation 🔞

Say Yes to Heaven 🔞

Elevators 🔞

Leila Ouahabi

Eyes on Me 🔞

Group Project [The Orgy] 🔞

Want, Not Need. Pt. 1

Want, Not Need Pt. 2

Careful Planning

Two is Better than One

Aitana Bonmatí

Ecstasy 🔞

Hope, Coffee, and Poetry 🔞

earmuffs 🚨

fidgets 💛

pretty lights 💛

lather 💛

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Baby It’s Cold Outside 🔞

Alexia Putellas x Leah Williamson

Time Consuming 🔞

Time Difference 🔞

Melted Ice Cream 🔞

Alexia Putellas x María León

Twice the Pleasure 🔞

Good Girls 🔞

María León x Ingrid Engen

Crippled 🔞

Special Instructions 🔞

Arsenal Women

Chosen Family 💛

Alexia Putellas

Dress Up 🔞

Rain 🔞

Did I Cross The Line? 🚨

For Club and Country 🔞

Impatient 🔞

Honeymoon 🔞

Scars 🚨

Broken 🚨

Claire De Lune 🚨

all the rain in the world. 🚨

Darlin' I'd Wait For You 💛

Paris 🔞

If I have to ask, I don't want it. 🚨

Fire and Ice 🔞

beige. 🔞

One Call Away 🔞

Bottom Ale 🔞

Betrayed 🔞

Show Me 🔞

Ona Batlle

Collateral 🚨🔞

without you 🚨

Too Dangerous 🔞

To Love Someone 🔞

The Best of Me 🔞

Backseat 🔞

Touchy Feely 🔞

don’t let them hear. 🔞

Angel in the House 💛

Royalty 💛

La Princesa 💛

She's going to be okay. 💛

I don't think you deserve gentle darling. 🔞

Touch me like nobody else does. 🔞

Leah Williamson

Choice 🚨

Flare Up 💛

Guardian of My Heart 🚨

Sun to Me 🚨

Alone 🚨

good excuse 🔞

When I’m with you, there is no one else because I get heaven to myself. 💛

Cookies and Cuddles 🔞

baby bear 🔞

dreams 🔞

don't wander 💛

Kiss Me Before You Go 💛

Arsenal's Number 6 🔞

Blueberry Pancakes 💛

Fore! 💛

They could never be mad at you. 💛

Nightmares and Hot Chocolate 💛

Leah Williamson x Lucy Bronze

I've got you. 💛

Georgia Stanway x Leah Williamson

I don't need you. 💛

Maya Le Tessier

I'm not sick. You're delusional. 💛

Georgia Stanway

Lazy Saturdays and Scrambled Eggs 💛

[leah-lover]

Arrogance. Alexia putellas x reader.

Let me know if you want a part 2.

You loved winning more than anything or anyone in the entire world and that was your biggest flaw. Brought up in the US soccer system, you were taught that winning is everything. You had set the precedent of joining the US women's national team as early as 17 years old which had never been done before. You were smart both academically and tactically. You graduated high school early, went to college early and proceeded to win the national championship all 4 years.

Your life always took the back seat to winning. You didn't have many friends. You didn't go out or party. You trained hard, you took care of your body, and followed a strict fitness routine. You were overall the best in your generation.

Being labeled as the best of your generation got into your head early in your life. Your strict regime made it hard for you to make friends and your cockiness and pride didn't help either. You were friendly but nobody ever dared to become your friend.

After college you moved on to the NWSL in which you won MVP , rookie of the year, and the championship in your first and second year. You had also won the world but at the same time. However, winning didn't fill the gap in your life that it once did. You didn't have to prove yourself anymore, you were renowned in the whole world as the best, everybody wanted to be you but no one wanted to be with you not long term at least. You were notorious for hooking up with people but you didn't want them to stay over for breakfast

As the years went on the international competition got harder. You were still the best but an upcoming Spaniard was raining on your parade. You were both head to head in matchies, a few tackles landing you warnings and yellow cards, and in awards. Both having very good stats you are head to head for the ballon d'or which she won that year.

You didn't talk to each other much. You can recall talking one or twice to each other . but you talked about one another a lot. The media seemed to spit you both against one another. You started hating each other in real life.

This summer your contract with Seattle fc came to its end and you chose not to renew. Offers were flying by but the one that caught your attention was Barcelona's offer.

They were willing to spend 1 million dollars on you. It was a precedent. No club had ever paid this much for a transfer. Thrie offer sticked your ego so much you accepted.

You have been playing at Barcelona for almost a season, scoring a hatrick at every game. Your relationship with your teammates didn't change. You were still space out.

The most important relationship was with your captain. Your rivalry with her was the second headline out of the b transfer. But you didn't pay her or the rivalry any attention.

Tonight you have achieved something you wanted to do for a long time. You have won the champion’s league. The locker room was celebrating the win and chanting your name. While everybody was dancing Alexia came to approached you and said “ congrats and thank u american”

“ no need capi.” you responded.

The flight back was fun, people were singing and dancing but the only thing you thought about was alexia. Her smell, her hand on your shoulder, her being thankful for you. You found yourself looking over to her from time to time. You weren't like this, you didn't day dream about people especially not the captain.

The celebration party took place in a bar. You were a few dink in when you looked over to you right yo find Alexia nursing a flute filled with champagne.

“Why aren't you dancing?” She asked.

“ I am not the type plus i am pretty sure y'all hate me.”

“And why is that “

“Don't know just a feeling.”

After that I went outside. I didn't smoke much but the nerves Alexia was giving me deserved some nicotine. As soon as I lit the cigarette I felt her hazel eyes glaring at me.

“ These things are gonna kill you, you know.”

“ I want to die young plus nobody would give a shit.”

“ I would give a shit if the most important person in my club was killing herself because she can't man up enough to talk to people. You hide behind your accomplishments. But you are just a normal girl just like any of us. You need people beside you.”

“ You are wrong about me. I am not scared of talking to people; they just would never understand me. I am a control freak. I don't like to give it up. People tend to hate that about me ” I say as I take the last puff of my cigarette. My eyes don't leave hers and the tension is through the roof.

“ I like to lose control from time to time.”

“ Capitana please don't play with me”

“ Currently I am not playing with you. Let me make you a deal. You go inside, have some fun and I will let you do what you want with the information you just heard.”

“ Why are you doing this?”

“ I don't know, I just care, I guess.

[rookiesbookies]

Different relationships that the CoD boys are in and will probably be in for most fics I write bc they give these vibes?

Featuring: Price, Soap, Ghost, Konig, Keegan, Gaz (in that order under the cut)

Price:

Wife. You both met on a dating app when the Captain was feeling lonely. Poor man got so anamored what was supposed to be one date and a fuck turned into one date, two days, four dates then fucking, then well yk. He kept you under deep protection, the boys never really learned about you but Price sends you photos of them all the time, referring to them jokingly as his sons. You’ll meet them eventually, but only when Price knows Graves and Sheppard aren’t a problem anymore.

Soap :

Fiance. After a couple years and a lot of confidence talks by Gaz, he built up the courage. He knew you’d say yes, everyone knew. Everyone knew the night you came to the bar to pick Soap up when he was blackout drunk and didnt kill him when he vomited all over your car’s dash. Ghost knew of you first to snatch up Soap’s phone to call. He was gruff and to the point about it but he felt sorry seeing Johnny cry over missing you but not wanting to leave the team during a celebration for another successful mission. Price made you promise him he’d be allowed to walk Soap down the aisle since it was, as he said, “clear who wears the pants in this relationship.”

(Fic about this posted and in my masterlist with in pinned on my account)

Ghost:

Situationship. He has too many attachment issues to be super stable and he knows it, especially with his line of work. You dont here from him for months at a time after goodbye dates, but when he comes back he’s basically living out of your apartment because it just feels better than living on base. He crashes on the couch because he doesnt want to join you in bed to make you uncomfortable or steal your bed by accident. He kicks and flops in his sleep like a fish.

Konig:

Wife. He couldn’t have put the ring on your hand faster out of fear of makimg you uncomfortable. After the second date he knew he wanted to marry you. But he waited a year to ask, it was painful for him. He asked the two of you elope, promised a ‘real’ wedding with a big white dress and anything you could ask for when the world was safer or his job slowed down. He has large enemies so he mostly keeps you as on the downlow as he can. Everyone knows not to mess with the Colonel's Wife.

Keegan:

Fiance. He promised you when you both graduated he’d marry you, lost contact not long after, reconnected a bit later, and he put a ring on you- promising he wouldn't lose you again. You’ve been engaged for a couple years but you want to be financially stable enough to do the dream wedding you both have planned on a Pinterest mood board. You’ve been his best friend since forever and met in a math class when he didn’t quite understand algebra. He says, “im not a math person,” quite often to this day.

Gaz:

Girlfriend. You met at a bar during his training way back while a friend was working as a bartender, they let you bust his ‘fake’ ID just to talk to him. He comes to see you every time he can now, cozying up in your bed and telling you the happy and fun moments he has with the boys on missions. You play Its Raining Men and he jokingly acts like he’s having flashbacks as a running gag.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Playing the Part

actor!Eddie x actress!reader

summary: you and Eddie are playing the romantic leads in a movie. The only problem? You can’t stand each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) fingering, oral (f receiving), hurt/comfort

You and Eddie stood in the middle of the street, staring at each other like nothing else had mattered. No words had been exchanged between the two of you, but just from the looks in your eyes, it was obvious what you were feeling. Eddie pulled you into his arms as rain poured down on the two of you. It pelted your skin, making it cold and wet, but all you were thinking about was the man in front of you. Even soaked from the rain, he still somehow looked so angelic. Almost as if the rain made him look even better.

The man was looking at you with so much love that it was almost palpable. His brown doe eyes bored into yours, saying so much even though no words fell from his lips. He was always so good at telling you exactly how he felt just by looking at you. How exactly he did it, you’d never know.

“So you’ll marry me?” He asked and you grinned.

“Of course I will!” You exclaimed before pulling him into a deep kiss. His arms wrapped tighter around you, deepening the kiss by tilting your head backwards so he had more access to your lips.

“Cut!” A voice yelled from behind you and the two of you broke apart instantly. You wiped your mouth the with back of your hand while Eddie sprayed some breath stay into his mouth, looking at you with nothing but disgust.

It was needless to say that the two of you despised each other. It was obvious in the way you spoke to the other and the looks you shared. As soon as the two of you had been casted as the romantic leads for the film, everyone held their breath. You had hated each other since the moment you had locked eyes and they were honestly surprised that you both had actually agreed to work together.

The fact was, neither of you actually wanted to participate with the knowledge that you’d be working together let alone having to act as a couple, but the roles were forced upon you since both of your teams decided that your feud was childish and that if you had actually spent time together, you’d get along.

What a pipe dream that was. All you two had done was argue if you weren’t doing a scene. Off screen, you were absolutely insufferable together, but on screen, it was like magic. Your relationship almost seemed believable.

It had gotten to a point, though, where the pull was threatened to be pulled if you didn’t stop with your behavior. It wasn’t too late to cast a new couple and the director never failed to remind you of that. So, you put on smiles and faked like you were the best of friends only to argue once you were behind closed doors and sure that nobody could actually hear you.

Since so many members of the crew had seen you both go into your trailer so often, they had been convinced that you had been sleeping together. Which was laughable to the two of you, until it wasn’t.

You hadn’t meant to. It was merely an accident. You were trying to get a scene right which happened to involve a kiss and one of you was the one to deepen it and one thing led to another and you both somehow ended up naked. It wasn’t your fault that there was a perfectly good couch behind you. You were just trying to test it out. Turned out it wasn’t a very good one since it had broken just as you both were coming down from your orgasms.

A one time thing quickly turned into two times which turned into three until you were fucking each other on the regular. Sure, you hated the man’s guts, but even you could admit that he knew exactly how to please you and make you feel good.

Though, it seemed that you only were able to enjoy each other’s company when Eddie was inside of you since any time you had to kiss him for a scene, it felt forced and different to how he would kiss you behind closed doors. Those kisses were always rough, but at least you could tell that he was enjoying himself.

“Everyone take a break and then we’ll go again.” You should have known that the take hadn’t been good, but you really didn’t want to go again. Not if Eddie wasn’t going to put his all into it like you had.

You fled the set a quickly as you could and made a beeline for you trailer so you could have some peace and quiet. For once, you weren’t going to let Eddie in. You needed him to know that he couldn’t just fuck you whenever he wanted and that you weren’t going to continue your arrangement any longer. It was unprofessional and only made your relationship that much more confusing.

You sat down on the bed and collapsed onto it. Why did everything have to get so complicated? Why did your feelings have to get in the way? You could have easily continued what was going on between the two of you if your feelings for him hadn’t grown so strong. Perhaps it was foolish to fall for someone that you were only sleeping with, but you couldn’t help it.

There was a knock at your door but you ignored it. You knew exactly who it was and you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t without wanting to have sex with him and you couldn’t do that anymore. It had to end.

Even after telling him to go away, Eddie continued to knock. You always opened the door immediately and he wasn’t going to leave until he got answers as to why you were acting so differently. He thought he at least deserved that.

You eventually opened the door and Eddie stepped inside, grabbing onto your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was rough just like always and despite knowing that you needed to push him away, you didn’t want to. You kissed him back, your hands curling into his hair as he stepped forward until you hit the bed. He licked into your mouth as he guided you to lay down on the bed, removing the flannel that you were dressed in as he did so.

His hand moved up your shirt and massaged your breast as he slid underneath your bra, his other hand moving up your back to unclasp your bra. You rested your hand on top of his to stop him and he looked up at you, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Want me to stop?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, you know that, right?” There it was again. The sweet behavior that only seemed to appear when you were in that position. Why was it so difficult to treat you that way when you weren’t alone?

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Your silence was freaking him out. You always usually had something to say. In fact, it was hard to get you to stop talking most days.

“You can continue,” you told him and he looked at you skeptically. You had changed your mind. You needed him right then, your pussy too wet to not have remedy it in some way.

“Y/n-”

“Eddie, please. Need you.”

“Y/n, I’m not sure that-”

“Then look at my sopping wet cunt and decide for yourself.” The lust returned to your eyes and Eddie slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down to your ankles. He then removed your underwear and just as you’d said, your cunt was in fact sopping wet.

“Look at you, darling,” he said, spreading your legs wide. “Need me that bad, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, okay? Gonna eat you so good.” With that, he removed your jeans and underwear from your legs and immediately shoved his fingers inside of you, the pure pleasure causing you to grip the blanket beneath you tight.

“Oh,” you moaned and Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were the squelching of your pussy as Eddie moved his fingers in and out of you, your moans, and Eddie words of encouragement as he helped you through it.

“That’s right, angel,” he cooed. “Sound so pretty.” He kept his slow and steady pace as he moved his fingers with every intention of edging you, wanting you to beg for his mouth that you so desperately wanted on your cunt.

“Eddie, please,” you begged and he just looked at you with that mischievous grin. “If I could do it myself, I would.”

“Relax, angel. Let’s not get too impatient. “I’m gonna take care of you, remember?” With that, he removed his fingers from your cunt and replaced it with his face, diving in with no warning, causing you to gasp as he nose brushed just the right spot.

He took no time to graze it with his teeth, eliciting the most delicious sounds from your mouth. Your hands moved into his hair and you tightened your fists around the locks at his scalp, giving it a yank when he did something you particularly liked.

“So good, Eddie,” you whined. “Need more.” He swiped his tongue from your slit to your clit then began to suck on it, eating up both your beautiful moans and the way you were pulling on his hair. “Fuck,” you swore and that he took that as invitation to continue, deciding that he’d lick and suck until he had lapped up every single drop of your delectable slick.

“Sound like an angel, angel,” he said. “And you taste so fucking good. Could eat you all the time.”

Once he decided that you were ready, he stuck his tongue fully inside you and your back arched as he draped your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer so he had more access to your pussy. He swirled it around as you pressed your legs against his head as your moans got louder and louder.

Your vision went hazy as you reached your orgasm and you reached for Eddie’s hands, giving them a squeeze as he continued to work his magic on your cunt, making sure to let you know just how much he was enjoying himself as he did so.

His tongue reached a spot that it never had before and it caused your back to arch the most that it could, your legs tightening around his head even more as you reached your peak.

“Eddie,” you practically screamed. “I love you.” The words that left your mouth caused you both to pause. You immediately sat up as Eddie removed his face from your cunt, his eyes growing just as wide as yours. He pulled your legs off of his shoulder, but stayed on the floor, resting his hands gently on your knees.

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, both of you too afraid to be the first one to speak. You hadn’t meant to say it and certainly not while Eddie had been eating you out. But the words hung between you and you couldn’t take them back. They meant too much to do that.

“You love me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but yes. I do.” His face lit up and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiled into it and you couldn’t help but mimic him, the kiss becoming harder to accomplish but that only made the two of you laugh.

“I love you too,” he mumbled against your lips. “So much that it hurts.” He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss just as there was a knock on your door, letting you know that it was time to go back to set.

“Guess we should go,” you said with a sigh.

“Guess we should,” he nodded, reaching for your underwear and jeans before helping you put them back on. He then helped you from the bed and you fled the trailer hand in hand to head to the set where you’d do your first scene as an official couple.