#seeing her made me actually accept I could be gay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

patscorner · 6 months ago

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write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶

yes ma'am 🫡

Always and Forever

Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.

wc: 1,780

Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff

______________________________

For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.

There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.

Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.

But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.

Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.

You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.

You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.

Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.

Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.

Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.

“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.

You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.

“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”

The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.

“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.

Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.

“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”

The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.

“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.

Always and forever.

The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.

Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.

The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.

Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.

You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.

Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.

You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.

You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.

When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.

“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.

“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.

“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.

You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.

She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.

“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”

KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."

Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”

“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”

You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.

Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”

You shrug and smile. “You love it.”

She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”

After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.

“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”

The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.

“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.

“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.

“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.

“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”

You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.

Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.

You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.

Always and forever.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris

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morganbritton132 · 1 year ago

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I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

#at this point in the timeline Steve has only been shot from waist down in Eddie’s Tiktok account #you may be thinking ‘is rock n roll dad Jeremy’s dad’ and he’s not #he’s the father of a kid that doesn’t give a shit about how their teacher is married to so when he goes home and says your math teacher is #married to a celebrity they’re like ‘I don’t know who that is so no he’s not’#so Steve’s students don’t find out until Eddie’s infamous ‘why is your math teacher my husband’ Tiktok #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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idk6123 · 6 months ago

Text

Puppeteer The Puppeteer (Homelander X Male Reader)

With The Seven constantly being on the hot seat, Homelander only wishes one thing during days like these, control. He wishes there were a way The Deep do less dumb stuff. He wishes A-Train wasn’t some junkie that relies on drugs to use his powers. He wishes he could actually trust Starlight. He wishes Queen Maeve actually would listen to him and stop hating him. He wishes Translucent was still alive. He was fine with Black Noir.

With the lack of a member, he wishes someone more reliable to have in the team. Someone that meets all of his requirements, strong, obedient, trustworthy, basically everything that lacks with his current team. Thus, he got Ashley to scout for potential heroes.

“…And by doing this, we will be keeping up with the trend for more inclusivity.”

Homelander frowns and drops the information file on his desk. “You really think someone blind and in a wheelchair would fit the team?”

“She may be handicapped, but she’s strong. Besides, we never had a handicapped person in The Seven.”

“True, but we do have one in the PR team.” Homelander ruthlessly comment. Without even looking at the offended Ashley, the blonde looks through the files of how he finds interestingly enough to take even a peek.

“Luckily, we many other candidates. I’m sure we can reach a compromise-” Homelander drops the files on the side. Then he gestures to Ashley to give him the files she’s holding. She’s quick to give it to him, making him to look again. “We have plenty of strong heroes who will make the public-” She then stops talking when Homelander stops browsing to look at one file in particular. Judging by his face, he found his new hero. “Who’re you looking at?”

With a satisfied smirk, Homelander continues to look through the file. “We got our new member.”

“I highly advice to not get him.” In the hallway, Ashley is following Homelander, who’s meeting his new teammate. “He just made his break as a hero. He only got 11 followers on Instagram, most of them being family members. He caught only 2 burglars. He’s an introvert and I’m not surprised he only leave the house to do grocery shopping. The only good thing is that he’s gay, but I got 100 gay guys on my list.”

“I don’t care about them. I want him.” Homelander insist. He doesn’t stop walking. Not even looking at Ashley as he talks. “And if you’re going to have trouble having him good PR, that is your problem.” With that, Homelander enters his office, with Ashley following him with stress.

Inside of the office, Homelander is quick to see the young man, who looks a bit nervous. He stands up to give his new boss a nervous smile. “It’s an honor meeting you, sir.”

Homelander accepts his hand, smiling back at him. “Please drop the formalities. Please treat me like you treat your friends.”

After introductions, Y/N sit back on his seat, while Homelander is sitting opposite of him. Ashley is standing at the side, wondering what her boss is up to. “I have to say, I’m quite surprised I received a call. I just started all of this, and I’m already being recognized by The Seven.”

“There is a reason for that.” Homelander shows a kind smile. “You got a gift like no other, Y/N. “I never seen a telepath that has such potential like you have. I know you’re an amateur right now, but I can see in front of me a hero that will save millions of lives.”

Y/N blushes a bit, didn’t expecting to receive so many complements from his idol. “T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I would like to see you demonstrating your powers. I want to see how good you are right now.” Homelander requests. “I want you to tell me something embarrassing of Ashley.”

Ashley looks alarmed, with Y/N being taken a little aback. “…I don’t use my powers on people casually unless necessary.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine with it.” Homelander brushes it off. Although not wanting it, Ashley merely forced a painful smile. “Besides, considering this is about your future, don’t you think it’s necessary?”

Y/N knows things seems off, but this is ones in a lifetime chance. So, he uses his powers. Within a second, his face looks disgusted. “What kind of BDSM shit are you in?”

Homelander looks amused as Ashley looks even more embarrassed. “I don’t even need her to confirm it that you did it.” He then leans over. “Now for my final request. I want you to use your mind control power, take over Ashley’s mind and do something ridiculous in the hallway.”

“Wait-!”

Before Ashley could beg for Y/N not to, he did, though he feels a bit guilty. Her entire face only shows some hollowness. As she walks to the hallway, Homelander smirks and stand up. Both men get out of the hallway to see what’s going to happen. There, Ashley stands in the middle of it, with people passing by, not knowing what is going to happen.

“Attention! People! Attention!” Every worker in the hallway looks at her. “I need to confess something! Yesterday, we had a party back at my house, but I didn’t invited most of you. I want to apologize for sleeping in front of some of you and I was advised to go to the doctors.” Every worker frowns at hearing her. “I also want to apologize for the… ‘bathroom’ incident. I shouldn’t drink that much, and I got karma for it. I puked over some of you… and I’m sure you also saw me shitting in my pants at the same time. Again, I’m apologize, and I’m hope we can work normally from now on.” With that, she walks away. When she’s gone from the scene, Y/N let go of her mind.

Homelander looks proud at him as he put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Congratulations teammate. You’re in.”

Somehow, Ashley managed to create a story surrounding the new Seven member. Y/N apparently helped Homelander during a mission as a rookie, without knowing the big hero were there. Because of it, Homelander took the newly hero under his wing and train him. The whole spin is basically a sidekick and coach relationship, which worked well for the public.

Right now, it’s the first interview for the new hero. As he awaits in the lounge room, he nervously thinks through the interview, playing it in his mind. Homelander walks in, knowing Y/N is stressing.

“You don’t look too good, buddy.”

“…I never got interviewed before, that’s all.” Y/N nervously steps on the ground. “Especially not one at national tv.”

Homelander gives him an assures smile as he walks over to him. “Remember you can just be yourself. It’s alright to be shy. In fact, Ashley would love to represent someone more introverted on the big screen. Just be humble, nice and honest, exactly how we met. Think you can do that?”

Y/N hums. “Yeah. I’m not one for scripts to be honest. But I’m fine lying if it makes you guys lives a bit easier.”

Homelander looks proud. “That’s my sidekick.” He put an arm around the younger man, who looks a bit nervous. “And don’t worry. I’m going to sit right besides you if you need me.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

Y/N been accustom quiet well in The Seven. He and Starlight became quick friends. He took training sessions with Queen Maeve. He and Black Noir often spend time together, since both aren’t much talkers. He got stamina training from A-Train. He doesn’t talk to The Deep because he’s currently off the team because he raped someone. Y/N isn’t one to judge people quickly, but he makes an exception with him. That leaves Homelander, who spends the most time with. He helps him train his powers, his fighting moves and helping him PR wise. The boy often views Homelander as his mentor, and comes to him for general life advice, like today.

“I can tell there is something up your mind.” Homelander speaks up as both eat their lunches. “You can talk to me.”

“Well…” Y/N looks a bit uncomfortable. He takes a second for how to phrase it. “…So, I met this guy at security. He’s kinda my first friend that aren’t you guys. But yesterday, he… he asked me out.”

This makes the blonde curious. “Like a date?”

“Y-Yeah…” Y/N replies. “I never had one, so… I’m a bit nervous.”

Homelander smiles, as he thinks through the situation. He’s quick to have a solution in his mind for the new problem. “Want some advice? Just be yourself. He already knows you, so don’t worry about presenting yourself as being social or something. Besides, there is nothing to be ashamed of being quiet.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Basic advice, but your right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Later that day, Homelander got to the guy’s apartment to ‘fix’ the problem. Afterwards, all he had to do is send a text to Y/N the date is off because he wasn’t interested. Knowing the effect he’s going to get; he calls it a day and await for the next act.

The next day, he met with Y/N in the training room, seeing him more stoic then usual. “Everything alright there?”

“…My date bailed on me.” Y/N avoids looking at Homelander. “He said he wasn’t interested.”

“You serious?” Homelander sits down at the side. Afterwards, he gestures his sidekick to sit besides him, which he does. “What a jerk. Are you alright?”

Y/N shakes his head. “…I-I was really looking forward for it. I thought, maybe now I’m in The Seven, it’s fine to be the quiet guy… but it looks things hasn’t changed a bit.”

Homelander put an arm around Y/N, scooting him a bit over to him. “Don’t be ashamed. I know you’re an amazing guy. You’re kind, polite, honest and a hard worker. If he called the date off, that is his loss, because any guy is lucky to be with you.” With that being said, he put his other hand on Y/N’s knee, making the man blushing a bit as Homelander’s face is so close.

“Y-You really think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know it.” Homelander smiles warmly. “Think you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Y/N smiles. “I’m going to be fine.”

Some days later, Homelander invited Y/N to his room. Once there, he sees the blonde holding a bottle of champagne alongside two glasses on the table.

“Since you did so well last mission, I thought we should celebrate.” He opens the bottle, as a pop sound comes from it. With a smile, he tempts Y/N to drink, which he does.

With both men smiling, they drink the champagne from the glass as they sit down. Homelander is proud of his sidekick, now finally being stand on his own. Last mission, Y/N managed to mind control 10 people at the same time. Without even getting someone hurt, he successfully removed some terrorist who would’ve ended innocent people’s lives.

“Just imagine what you can do in the future. Wouldn’t be great if you could do, let’s say, 100 people?”

“I had already trouble doing with 10.” Y/N laughs. “It’s going to be a while before I can do even 20. That being said, it’s all thanks to you. You saw the potential in me and helped me achieve it.”

“You’re welcome. I know talent when I see it.” Homelander smiles. “And I know you’re only to get better from here out.”

“I feel like that too.” Y/N sounds hopeful.

“And I continue train you. …But I have something to confess to you. I have an ulterior motive.”

Y/N is curious. “Really? What’s it?”

“Well…” Homelander avoids looking at him. “When I first saw your file, I knew you were going to be a great member, and I was more then happy to help you. But as I spend more time with you, I grew more attach to you. Not as a teammate, or a friend, but as someone who cares for you.”

Y/N looks a bit stunned. “…You mean as a partner?”

Homelander looks back at him. “Nothing would make me happier to have you at my side… as something more then a friend.”

“W-Wow…” Y/N continues to look startled. “…I-I never expected this.”

Homelander smiles. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

“I… I would be very happy to be your boyfriend.”

With a wider smile, the hero leans in and kisses Y/N, who nervously kisses back. Both of them being gentle with the other. It was short, but it was sweet, something what the blonde was going for. After the kiss, he put his hand on Y/N’s cheek.

“You look so beautiful. I’m very happy to have you at my side.”

The next day and the big hero wake up in his bed. His eyes quick to look at the side to see Y/N lying next to him. His front is facing towards him. With a wide smile, Homelander get on his side to carefully hug Y/N, who’s face is now against his chest. The new recruit mutters something.

“Y/N?”

But it appears he’s still asleep. The blonde then looks pass Y/N’s head. As he continues to smile, he knows he got what he wanted. To have someone’s loyalty, now in the form of love. And to make it better, have someone that is powerful. With his powers, Homelander can use his telepathic abilities to get any information instantly and control someone’s mind without any problem. Sure, he needs to mold his lover to do what he wishes, but if he continues to be patient and dedicated to his project, things will turn out very well.

#the boys tv #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys series #homelander #homelander x male reader

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barblaz-arts · 9 months ago

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I think people have been accustomed to couples being in that honeymoon phase when they’re shown onscreen together. We ALWAYS see that with newly-established couples in pretty much any type of media… But that’s not Chaggie.

Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years. Their honeymoon phase has long past. They’re not doing outlandish displays of affection. They’re just, comfortable. Doesn’t mean they love each other any less, just that those sappy moments aren’t as common anymore

Yes! also the way a lot of people are surprised that charlie and vaggie aren't only best friends is such a good example of the double standards wlw ships get. thinking they aren't dating is understandable. Overlooking that Vaggie and Charlie were meant to at least be shipped together is INSANE.

If i never knew they were dating already, i and so many other sapphic ship lovers would be eyeing tf out of Vaggie and Charlie's relationship. Lookit some of the things that happened/are established before the "she's my girlfriend" line in ep 5

- the newcaster lady made a homophobic comment towards Charlie, saying she "doesn't touch the gays" when Charlie tried to give her a handshake

- THIS

- just all the times Vaggie would soften up as soon as she sees Charlie smiling or being her dorky self despite being previously upset/angry

- Vaggie's whole friggin verse in Whatever It Takes is very obviously meant to be romantic

- Charlie being worried about Angel Dust while Vaggie gives her the most "i love you and im sad that you're upset but i love that you're upset over something like this because it shows how amazing of a person you are" look at Charlie as she tucks her hair behind her ear

- Angel: I think this belongs to you *hands Charlie over to Vaggie*

- just all the casual touches they do that would totally be read as shipping fuel AT LEAST if it happened between a male/female duo or two men

- the fact Vaggie woke up?? Looking beside her to find Charlie?? To show that they sleep in the same bed?????

- Vaggie offering her hand unprompted when Charlie was having a stressful phone call with her dad and Charlie readily accepting it

And I'm sure there are people who'd go "But it's always shown from Vaggie's end! It looks so one-sided!" So? Aren't there tons of ships out there that seem one-sided but yall are perfectly fine shipping? And it's harder to see Charlie's love for Vaggie because Charlie at her core is a very loving and affectionate person. Of course it's gonna be more obvious for Vaggie since she's so prickly towards anyone else.

If all these things still happened without any of us knowing that they were actually girlfriends, we'd have a certain section of the fandom shipping it hoping they DO become canon while others would be claiming we'd be ruining a perfectly good platonic friendship by making it gay. They'd say we're reading too much into things.

But they ARE a couple. we aren't reading too much into things because it was meant to be read as romantic. And yet we're still the delusional ones for thinking an already established sapphic couple is "cute and interesting" because now they're claiming they simply dont have chemistry. It's frustrating.

Of course I have my criticisms too. The show could portray more of how Vaggie is more special to Charlie than anyone else, have them flirting more overtly or something. But any argument that they're "so boring i thought it was het" is invalid to me because i damn well know if at least one them was a dude a lot of them would be saying otherwise.

#asks #sorry you probably didn't want me ranting #but i am sick and tired of the 'theyre boring and have no chemistry' argument #they're just saying that because they can't say the 'theyre just best friends' line any more

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brooooswriting · 10 months ago

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hiii it’s my first time making a request and I saw that you were looking for Leighton Murray x reader requests.

So I was thinking about Leighton x reader, where reader knows Leightons dad and he tries to match them up. And she’s like the whole package, she plays soccer with Whitney, is an Lgbt advocate and also joins Leighton’s advanced math class. Leighton feels threatened so it’s like academic enemies to lovers.

You're better than me

“Hello,” you greeted Leighton and the other two people in the room as she walked into her advanced math class. She was new in there after her family forced her to take harder classes. The other two greeted you happily while Leighton only rolled her eyes. You had to hold in a scoff, even if she wasn't the biggest fan of you, was it so hard to say hello?

While Leighton wished that this was the only time that she had to see you, it wasn't. You were also on the football team with Whitney and you often visited the women's center. So, she wasn't safe anywhere cause Whitney liked to bring you into their dorm to study since you were pretty good in all your classes.

This was precisely why Leighton could not be more excited for the family weekend, which was crazy because her family was exhausting. But at least you would be busy too, or at least she guessed that you would be.

“Hey Dad,” she said as her father got out of the car. He immediately walked up to hug her, holding her too close for her to get any air.

“Hello, how are you? How is Essex treating you?” he asked, not really hearing the answer as she had to mumble into his chest. “I can't wait for dinner tonight, I want you to meet somebody” he added as he finally let her go.

“Meet somebody? Please tell me you don't have a side chick.” She frowned looking at him.

“Leighton! No, of course not. Now, let's go. I believe we have a packed schedule.” She nodded and followed him into the building, constantly thinking about who she might have to meet. The blonde had to say that the day went quite well, it mostly did when she was alone with her dad. They talked about college, her mum and Nico, about what she might do after her years at Essex and how his job was going.

After some long hours, it was finally time to go eat and she would finally see who he would want her to meet. As they walked into the restaurant her heart stopped when she was to whom her father was walking. There you sat in a women's suit, with some makeup and heels. God, she hated the fact that she was attracted to you right now.

“Y/n, it's so lovely of you to meet us here,” her dad said as he hugged you, making her nearly gasp. You gave him a smile as you hugged him back.

“No problem, Henry!” you told him and again the blonde nearly gasped. You turned toward her and sent her a big smile. “Hey Leighton, it's nice to see you,” you said as you pulled out the chair for her. Henry did not tell you that he would bring Leighton tonight which made the whole thing kinda awkward. You actually liked her but she seemed to hate you.

She sent you a tight-lipped smile and sat down, you and Henry then joining. “So, it seems like you two already know each other,” Henry said, giving you both a big smile while his daughter rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we do. But, just out of interest, how do YOU TWO know each other?” the girl who hated you asked, aggressively pointing between you and him.

“Oh well, after you came out your dad wanted to know what to do, and how to act. You know it can be hard for parents of gay kids, even when they accept their children for it. They never know what is too much and what is not enough” you started to explain but didn't get far.

“Can you maybe skip all this shit and just answer my question?” she snapped making her father furrow his brows.

“Yeah, of course. Since I am an LGBT advocate your dad asked me for help” You gave her a short nod when you finished your explanation.

“Why would you ask her dad? And why would you want me to meet her?” It wasn't hard to see that she was annoyed, by you, her dad and just life in general you guessed.

“Well, she's a great woman Leighton. She plays football, has a scholarship for it, she is great at math, she is part of the lgbtq and she is exactly your type” You wanted to disappear so bad right now and it seems like Leighton wanted the same thing. For you to disappear. Her eyes were wide and her brows raised as she stared at him with disbelief.

“Dad! I told you we’re not gonna talk about my dating life. Not ever. Got it? And especially her” well, that hurt. Henry gave her an unhappy look before giving you a sorry one. You only gave him a short nod to signal that it was alright.

“Leighton that’s enough! I’ll go to the restrooms real quick before we eat” he stood up and walked away. As soon as his back was turned towards you the blonde was on her phone.

“Look,” you started and pushed her phone down so she could look at you “I know that you hate me for some weird reason but your dad was really nice and asked me to come so I said yes. I didn’t know that you were coming alright? So how about you use some manners and act like you can at least stand being in a room with me huh?” She only picked up her phone again making you sigh. “I don’t get why they talked about you so nice in the women center” you mumbled out making her look up from her phone.

“What did you just say?” She couldn’t believe your audacity. Who did you think you are that you go and talk to her and about her like that? Especially mentioning her ex. God, she hated you. You were so annoying and she didn’t even know why.

“I said that I do not understand why they said that you were nice and shit. I was really happy when I heard that you were in my advanced math class, but you only acted like a bitch the whole damn time. You even do it when I visit Whit, and the only thing I ever said to you there was ‘hi’” you ranted, happy to finally say what you’ve been thinking of for so long. Luckily for you, Henry came back before the blonde could say anything else.

“So, did you guys decide what you want to eat?” He asked as he sat down.

That was one of the most exhausting dinners you ever had. And after hours, Leighton still kinda ignored you and Henry ordering his drink extremely weird you were finally out. “Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you back to college? It’s quite far” the man asked again making you chuckle.

“Yes Henry, thank you tho. I’ll walk, need a bit of fresh air and exercise” it was a lie. You didn’t really feel like walking but the thought of sitting in a car with Leighton was not even close to what you dreamed of, so walking seemed like the best idea.

And after a really long discussion with Henry, he finally let you go. “Wait, I think I will walk with her dad. Then you can make your way back home, it’s late already and I could use the fresh air too” you sighed internally but didn’t want to make this awkward in front of the older Murray.

You waited for them to say goodbye before making your way back to college. “Why?” You just asked after a few moments of walking as you just couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay anymore.

“Didn’t wanna discuss this whole thing with him” you chuckled at her answer, it was clear that she didn’t wanna talk so you just shut up and kept walking. At some point you looked over to see the blonde hugging herself, goosebumps covering her arms. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before deciding what to do. Right now, you hated her as much as she hated you. Why did she have to be so endearing and cute while being a goddamn asshole at the same time?

“Here” you mumbled as you draped your jacket over her shoulders, making sure that it would stay.

“What the fuck? What the fuck am I supposed to do with your cheap ass jacket?” She asked, but her voice wasn’t as harsh as it usually was as she noticed the goosebumps now covering your arms.

“Get warm. Just accept it, it doesn’t mean that you have to like me or anything. Look, I’ll even fall back ok? You can walk in front of me so nobody realizes that we were somewhere together” you immediately slowed down and let her walk to get some distance but she stopped too.

“This is a bit much don’t you think? It will be even weirder when we do it like that”

“Why do you hate me? I’ve been nice to you, you hate me. I ignore you, you still hate me and try to bully me. Why? What did I do to you? I was really excited to meet you” you looked her straight in the eyes, this time you weren’t going to break it first.

“No particular reason” she shrugged but it was a lie, this time it was obvious. So you just kept staring at her, challenging her to go with her lie. “Fine, I just feel like you may be smarter and a bit more academically advanced than me which made me… I don’t know. I just don’t like it, and then you also have to be hot and trained, I mean even now I can see your damn abs” you couldn’t help but grin as you finally knew why she hated you.

“You know, if you really feel like I am smarter than you, then I can’t say anything else other than would happily tutor you” you joked, breaking out in laughter while Leighton hit your shoulder, an unamused look on her face. “Alright, I’m sorry. But I think the same thing about you, you’re extremely smart. Way smarter than people think you are and as if that wasn’t hot enough, you also look hot. Like damn. But I was so excited to meet you because I’ve been crushing on you since you came to one of our games” you smiled, this time it was a real smile.

“And… even after I treated you like shit, would you still be open to… you know?” She asked, her voice unsure.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t have my jacket right now. So, do you wanna go on a date?”

“You really still wanna go?”

“Yeah, I do”

“Then I would love to”

“Finally” you mumbled as you walked closer to her, one hand slowly going towards her waist. You moved slow enough for her to move away, but were more than happy when she stepped closer too. After she didn’t make any sign of discomfort you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her softly.

“I should have stopped being a bitch way earlier” she mumbled before kissing you again, the kiss getting more passionate.

You walked her home, your hands brushing against each other every now and then making a warm feeling spread in both of your stomachs. “Alright, so we will go out tomorrow after math?” You confirmed, smiling when she gave you a nod. This time she leaned in first, kissing you again before giving you your jacket.

“I cannot believe you beat me by one point in this damn math game” Leighton complained on the way to the restaurant you were taking her. You chuckled as this had been going on for about 15 minutes.

“Well you said it yourself, i am smarter than you” you joked, petting her back to assure her that you were joking. By the time the blonde finally shut up about this game you had arrived.

“Go y/n, go Whitney” Leighton screamed as she stood up while watching you and her roommate play, her body clad in your soccer jacket. The sight making you smile every time. After the game was won you quickly ran to Leighton pressing a kiss to her lips. “You did So well” she praised.

Her roommates watched from the other side as you and her smiled at each other, a similar happiness adorning your faces. A happiness no ex of Leighton had ever put on her face.

You couldn’t wait to see Where this relationship would lead.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #tslocg x reader #renee rapp x reader

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gatheringbones · 1 year ago

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[“Coming out was very lonely. I had very few friends. Most of the adult lesbians I knew were alcoholics, chronically unemployed, prone to violence, self-hating, apolitical, closeted, cliquish. Lesbians hated each other. If you found a lover you stopped going to the bar because you could not trust other lesbians; they would try to break up your relationship. My first woman lover went into the military, where she turned in other lesbians so she would not be exposed. One of my dyke friends got a job as a supervisor in a cabinet-making company and refused to hire lesbians because, she said, they were unreliable employees who were disliked by the other workers. The only thing that seemed worse to me than the apolitical lesbian community I came out in was the strangulation of pretending to be straight. I came out only because I could not go back; there was no place for me to stand in the het world. I was driven out.

Moving to San Francisco improved things somewhat. There was more public lesbian space there—six bars instead of one. But it did not alleviate the loathing with which my family viewed me. Nor was San Francisco in the early seventies any sort of gay utopia. We had no gay-rights law, queer bashing was a frequent event, and everyone had lost at least one job or been denied a place to live. It was a relief to be surrounded by other lesbian feminists, but only to a point. Bar dykes and feminists still had contempt for one another. Feminism rapidly became a way to reconstitute sexual prudery, to the point that it seemed to me that bar dykes were actually more accepting of and knowledgeable about the range of behavior that constituted lesbianism. In the bars or in the women’s movement, separatism was pretty much mandatory, if you didn’t want to get your ass kicked or be shunned. Separatism deteriorated into a rationalization for witch hunts in the lesbian community rather than a way for women to bond with one another and become more powerful activists. The lesbian community of that decade did terrible things to bi women, transgender people, butch/femme lesbians, bar dykes, dykes who were not antiporn, bisexual and lesbian sex workers, fag hags, and dykes who were perceived as being perverts rather than über-feminists. We were so guilty about being queer that only a rigid adherence to a puritanical party line could redeem us from the hateful stereotypes of mental illness and sexual debauchery.

What did I gain? I came a little closer to making my insides match my outsides, and that was no small blessing. The first time I met other dykes I recognized a part of myself in them, and knew I would have to let it out so I could see who I was. For a time, being a lesbian quieted my gender dysphoria because it made it possible for me to be a different kind of woman. That was an enormous relief.

For a long time, I hoped that by being strong, sexually adventurous, and sharpening my feminist consciousness, I could achieve a better fit between my body and the rest of me. Lesbianism was a platform from which I could develop a different sort of feminism, one that included a demand for sexual freedom and had room for women of all different erotic proclivities. I had a little good sex and discovered that I was not a cold person, I could love other people. It was as a lesbian that I began to find my voice as a writer, because in the early days of the women’s movement, we valued every woman’s experience. There was a powerful ethic around making it possible for every woman to speak out, to testify, to have her say. But there were always these other big pieces of my internal reality that lesbianism left no room for.

The first big piece of cognitive dissonance I had to deal with, in my second coming out, was S/M. I date my coming out as a leather dyke from two different decisions. One was a decision to write down one of my sexual fantasies, the short story that eventually became “Jessie.” At the time I wrote the rough draft of that story, I had never tied anybody up or done anything else kinky. I was terribly blocked as a writer. I kept beginning stories and poems that I would destroy. I have no idea if they were any good or not. My self-loathing was so intense, my inner critic so strong, that I could not evaluate my own work.

So I decided to write this one piece, under the condition that I never had to publish it or show it to another person. I just wanted to tell the truth about one thing. And I was badly in need of connecting with my own sexuality since I was in the middle of what would be a five-year relationship with a woman who insisted we be monogamous, but refused to have sex with me. So I wrote about dominance and submission, the things I fantasized about when I masturbated that upset me so much I became nauseated. Lightning did not strike. As I read and reread my own words, I thought some of them were beautiful. I dared show this story to a few other people. Some of them hated it. Some of them were titillated. Nobody had ever seen anything like it before. The story began to circulate in Xerox form, lesbian samizdat. I found the strength to defend my story when I was told it was unspeakable or wildly improbable.

In October of 1976, I attended a lesbian health conference in Los Angeles and went to a workshop there about S/M. In order to go to a workshop, you had to sign a registration sheet. I was harassed by dykes who were monitoring this space to see who dared sign up for that filthy workshop. On my way, I had to walk through a gauntlet of women who were booing and hissing, calling names, demanding that the workshop be canceled, threatening to storm the room and kick us all out of the conference. The body language and self-calming techniques I had learned when I had to deal with antigay harassment on the street came in very handy, but how odd it was to be using those defenses against the antagonism of other dykes. Their hatred felt like my mother’s hatred. I am so glad I did not let it stop me.

When I got home from that workshop, I knew that I was not the only one. Not only were there other lesbians who fantasized about sadomasochism, there were women who had done these things with each other. I decided to come out again. If there were other leather dykes in San Francisco, they had to be able to find me, so I had to make myself visible. This meant that I often did not get service at lesbian bars, or I was asked to leave women-only clubs and restaurants. I was called names, threatened, spit at. I got hate mail and crank calls. But I also found my tribe. And because I had already experienced my first coming out, I knew we were not going to be an ideal, happy family. I could be more patient with our dysfunctions, and see them as the result of being scared, marginalized, kicked around. Being a leather dyke took me another step closer to dealing with my gender issues. I could experiment with extreme femme and extreme butch drag; take on a male persona during sex play. I gave up separatism because I needed to take support from any place where it was available. Gay men already had a thriving leather culture, and I wanted to learn from them. I also wanted to have sex with them. It still wasn’t okay as far as lesbian feminism was concerned to be bisexual, to be transgendered, but I could bring those folks into my life and make alliances with them. I could defend them in print. There was even more good sex, and people who loved me and received my love despite the fact that it was dangerous for us to show ourselves to one another. I faced my sexual shadow, and she bowed to me and then danced beautifully in profile against the white walls of my consciousness. My writer’s voice was unlocked.”]

pat califa, from layers of the onion, spokes of the wheel, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#pat califa #bi literature #lesbian literature #trans literature #history stuff #gender stuff #terra preta

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bengiyo · 4 months ago

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Ben's Big BL Blurb

I was traveling for a few weeks, and there's no way I'm doing individual posts for every show I've been watching, so here's my thoughts on all of the shows I'm currently enjoying, in the order I'm most enjoying them.

Twilight Out of Focus

This show is fucking excellent. I'm not that keen on taking a break from our leads to see other couples, but I do like that BL continues to be the way that these guys are figuring out they're attracted to each other. Mao moving so smoothly into his boyfriend era, and knowing how he's feeling, has been excellent. I also really loved Hisashi knowing they needed to not be together all the time.

The Trainee

Jane is so attractive, and I'm so happy for Off. This latest episode was a lot of fun to watch for Ryan, because it's nice seeing him be more actively engaged in things happening around him. Pai seems far more settled now that she knows she has a place. Pah is clearly still a mess. Tae seems like he's good at what he does. Ba-Mhee falling for Judy is NOT IDEAL, and Judy is over the line.

Overall, I'm actually interested in seeing them mirror interns crushing on their mentors with two different pairings as a point of comparison. I also like how every week feels like the work goals make sense.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear

Besties, so much is happening in this show. There is daddy drama, wife drama, dead son drama, and so much more! These episodes are so long, but I'm really engaged with everything happening on this show. Job and Inn are really fucking good in this.

I Hear the Sunspot

I'm so glad that Kohei made his feelings clear, and I'm enjoying seeing Taichi figure out how to respond to them. We once again had a camping trip that did not give me what I wanted, but I did like Kohei being clear that he's still interested in Taichi. Finally, I liked the little confirmations that Kohei is taking to sign, and that Taichi is interested in that journey.

Knock Knock, Boys!

I'm so proud of Best! He has played Peak in this restrained way for so long, and it paid off in this most recent episode. I love that this story started with a gay man running from himself and his feelings, who then realizes that he can't run away from people who care about him anymore because they won't let him. I love that everyone being patient with him gave him what he needed to finally accept himself and say what he needed. I've really loved the way Thanwa tries to support Peak.

I'm also overjoyed for Almond and Latte, and I need them to fuck nasty before this show ends or I will be so disappointed. Latte is quietly one of my blorbos of the year with the way he is always clear about who he is and what he wants even as he is okay with where Almond is in the moment. They're an excellent pair.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

RISA IS OFF THE BESTIE LIST FOREVER! I will never forgive her for outing Hiroko to Ayaka just so she could ask Ayaka to choose her instead. Also, fuck those Bettys at the bar, who definitely know Hiroko's business, and that she's not out at work. Why talk about her to a stranger who called her senpai?? I'm relieved that Hiroko knows that Ayaka likes women now, and am curious how we move forward at this point.

I also need to know who this woman was who hurt Hiroko, because nothing makes me sadder than when we have to hide from other queers.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Thanks to @isaksbestpillow I was actually able to start this on my trip. I didn't want to start a show on a trip, but I could not resist. I really love that Ishida is in his late 20s and struggling with direction and purpose after his initial plan blew up in his face. I love that he's recognized so quickly that he's developed feelings for Mitsuya-sensei, and I love that Mitsuya-sensei is open about who he is. It's about goddamned time that we saw an age gap story of this kind, because so many meaningful relationships I've had are with gay men older than me.

Takara's Treasure

This quiet little show makes me so happy every week. I just desperately need for Taishin to figure out what he's feeling, and for people to help him realize what he's feeling. Takara's my favorite kind of pretty boy: the ones who are obviously and poorly masking incredibly turmoil. I love that Taishin sees through this and wants to help Takara. Excited for him to get to take care of him when Takara gets sick.

Century of Love

I've been having a lot of fun with this show, but episode 8 felt like a huge wobble. I love that San was so committed to Vee the whole time, but the back and forth about the stone was tedious. San giving up the stone as a way to signify that he was over the memory of Vad was nice, but we didn't reconcile Vee's theft and the emotional cost of that.

Love Sea

MAHASAMUT!! WE FINALLY BEAT THAT NASTY OLD MAN'S ASS!! Mut trampling over a bullshit breakup and kicking Rak's dad's ass instead was so satisfying that it almost makes up for Mut having little identity outside of his relationship to Rake, or the terrible arc that Mook and Vie are having, over the last few weeks. I have been playing Stomp for the last few hours because I needed them to kick that man. Mut did not hit him enough.

New Shows

There's a bunch of stuff I have to sort out over the next few days. I'm not going back to My Love Mix Up TH, but I do plan to start 4 Minutes. There's also another J-BL in the grey I got some help finding called Sugar Dog Life.

Shout out to @lurkingshan for helping me watch a few things while I was gone, and also @twig-tea for keeping me apprised of which new shows I probably need to pick up.

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copper-16 · 9 months ago

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You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here.

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right?

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to.

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls.

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients.

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there.

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally.

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along.

It’s just, nobody had.

But perhaps that would change.

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back.

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling.

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town.

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where.

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike.

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded.

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action.

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear.

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet.

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet.

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet.

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like.

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in.

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table.

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to.

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man.

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head.

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot.

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken.

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk.

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do.

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name.

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally.

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion.

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room.

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence.

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them.

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble.

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive.

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act.

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune.

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble.

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her.

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs.

And god was Misa wrong.

This woman wasn’t attractive.

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop.

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk.

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid.

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now.

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high.

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work.

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English.

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded.

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin.

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman.

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out.

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation.

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious.

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name.

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes.

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s.

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily.

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on.

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers.

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers.

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different.

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her.

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully.

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair.

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt.

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently.

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen.

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless.

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away.

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care.

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer.

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly.

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy.

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason.

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low.

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back.

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette.

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise.

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back.

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body.

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid.

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman.

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow.

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought.

It was her choice.

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in.

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly.

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat.

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing.

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree.

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap.

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power.

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it.

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless.

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own.

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling.

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core.

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier.

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs.

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace.

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons.

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed.

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second.

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning.

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to.

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something.

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more.

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots.

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more.

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished.

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest.

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other.

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly.

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful.

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate.

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten.

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk.

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such.

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with.

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways.

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like.

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again.

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her.

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly.

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance.

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently.

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own.

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time.

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually.

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises.

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her.

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace.

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there.

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire.

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut.

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful.

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin.

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere.

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette.

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed.

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow.

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while.

#ingrid engen #mapi leon #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #misa rodriguez

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balkanradfem · 1 month ago

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Friends, I have a devastating/confusing update regarding the hot woman in the building, I don't even know what's going on anymore, you be the judge and tell me what you think.

So, if you remember last time we met, she gave me her number, she didn't have her phone on her, so I called her so she could save my number and call me, and come over. She never called and I assumed she just forgot or didn't save my number at all. So I'm like, okay, she doesn't care that much, it's okay, I no longer have a crush on her, I'm normal about this.

Yesterday, as I was about to head out in the evening, I see her standing in front of the building, as if waiting for someone to let her in. I'm someone. I open the door and she greets me happily, and we start chatting in the doorway. We were chatting for half an hour, she didn't seem in any rush, she was done with work, she told me she's about to go shower and relax for the day.

So in that conversation, we touched up the subject of how it feels to live with other people, since we're both introverts, and I mentioned 'oh but you live with your son and have to take care of him every day, but that's different, that's love' and she goes 'well you could find a guy and then live with him and you'd have love too'. And I froze. My eyes went blank. Soul fully left the body. I stared at the distance. The only reply I managed was a slow 'Oh.' My every thought about her was re-engineered in my head to accept that this woman not only has no interest in me, but is probably straight. Which was tough but I dealt with it, I accepted it, straight people can have buzzcuts I guess, whatever.

I responded with something like 'oh I don't want to clean after them, you know how they are' and we had a fun 5 minutes just trashing males, she told me she got divorced twice so I knew that she knew what was up, she agreed with me on most points.

I think my blank stare and extreme reaction I had about being told to 'get a guy' tipped her off about something, because she afterwards started talking about how she would maybe do better with a woman, and I was like Oh?? But then she backtracked and said she was scared of being heard because people in here are not very accepting of that, but she is, she thinks 'gay is okay' (I am nodding with a smile). She tells me about living abroad and how people are not actually accepting of that, but they don't care as much, nobody bothers you. At this point I'm just confused of what she's saying, like is she telling me about her personal experiences of being openly into women abroad? Or just talking in general what she noticed about homophobia out there? Or was it about trying to survive out there with a buzzcut? I don't know.

Then we sneaked into the bicycle room and she complained how I always wear a hat, so I explain to her that I have to, because I have sick ears; she's asking me over and over can't I just take it off, for a second? Basically begging me to take it off, just so she can see me without it, and I fold, and take off my hat, and she's mesmerized. She's looking at me with this weird shine in her eyes like she's never seen anything like it before, I'm pleased but also utterly confused because if you're straight why are you looking at me like this?

I decide enough is enough and I need to bring her over, so I drag her into my apartment, we've been talking for so long just in the hallway and we could be in my kitchen. She goes reluctantly, and then lingers at the entrance and doesn't come to the kitchen after me. I come back and ask 'Are you uncomfortable here? Do you not want to see the kitchen?' and she apparently was worried she would dirty the floor with her shoes. So I drag her over to the kitchen, and I luckily had a little jar of candied quince which I made the other day! (sidenote, did you know that David Karp makes candied quince recipes online? I have discovered this.) She loves my candied quince, and again, goes 'You're ready to get married' to which I'm immediately SO MAD, and I fight her on it, I go 'Do you think a husband could make candied quince??' and she looks at me 'oh no way' 'Well I DON'T WANT A M*N WHO CAN'T EVEN CANDY QUINCE and she laughs. I also give her a persimmon I got as a gift, because that's a semi-exotic fruit and I want her to try it. She likes my kitchen, gives me nice comments on every little handmade pillow and basket, she's in general so sweet, she hugs me, she likes my paintings, I'm happy. Then when we were getting ready to both leave, she goes 'I see you hate bras just like I do', and I'm offhandedly saying 'yeah who created that evil' but in my head I'm like I'm wearing a sweater right now, I'm wearing a sweater and you noticed? You looked at my chest enough to notice, and then you informed me you don't wear a bra either??? And then I called her phone again to be sure she saves my number, which she didn't the last time, and we both part and go our merry way.

I am driven mad by her behaviour and I don't know whats going on. Could anyone diagnose this situation. I am weeping I've been told to marry off a guy twice. I'm being pressured into being an unwilling bride by a woman with a buzzcut who I had a crush on. Regret and devastation. But then she also does things that I would call flirting if I thought she was in any way interested. I told her to stop calling me child-nicknames too and it did not work. I'm 34 I don't deserve this.

#lesbian #i have no idea anymore #hot woman update #what do i do with this

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

y'all have been sending in the requests for AI alessia being her gay older sister who plays for arsenal and i hope it satisfies because it was tricky to write lmao, so picture that ^ is isabella

best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

"-and you promise that you're not mad?" your best friend bit down on her bottom lip nervously as you smiled as reassuringly as you could. "less of course i'm not mad! why would i be?" you laughed and shook your head at the blonde you'd all but grown up side by side with.

"because we always said the plan would be for you to go to university and me to play professionally in whatever club was closest so we could do it together, and i've ruined that!" your best friend sighed guiltily, collapsing back into her pillows.

"alessia. you are one of the best up and coming footballers there is, you've got a huge career ahead of you and this is the perfect next step to launch you into it. i'd be selfish cow and a terrible best friend to try and keep you from it." you promised sincerely, grabbing her hand and squeezing with a nod.

"will i miss you? of course. but i want you to go, i promise." you affirmed firmly. "and i promise that i'll make sure we don't drift apart. best friends for life means for life, and you better come and visit!" alessia held out her pinky as you grinned and interlocked it with your own.

"okay well that makes me feel a bit better because i was stressed about telling you!" the girl sighed and sat back up. "i've also been stuck with you for like ten years now, i'd really like a break." you shoved her playfully, ducking as she swung back at you with a grin and slid off her bed.

"please we both know you'll be a blubbering mess at the airport, your only friend off on a whirlwhind adventure and you...stuck here." alessia pouted sarcastically as you gasped. "i have loads of other friends thank you! you just refuse to accept that because you're notoriously posessive and needy." you teased back with a grin.

"and i'm off to university anyway you dickhead! where i'm sure i'll find myself a new blondie to spend my every waking day with." you jeered as she fumbled around in her cupboard for something. "you better not or i'll be forced to come back and kick her head in." alessia warned making you laugh.

"unless its a girlfriend of course, you desperately need one of those so you can stop kissing your hand." your best friend shrugged dropping a large box on her bed. "less! that was one time years ago and i told you that in strict confidence!" you kicked at her as she grinned, your cheeks blushing red.

"what? i wouldn't blame you for dating someone who looked like me, i know it's your biggest shame that you're secretly in love with me." the blonde pouted patting your leg making you roll your eyes.

"please. you know it's actually homophobic to assume that because i like girls that i like you, and here i was thinking you'd be an ally." you tutted as her eyes widened and she scrambled to ramble out an apology.

"an ally? please." you both looked up at the new voice, alessia's older sister isabella leaning in the doorway with a smirk. "have you heard of knocking?" alessia sighed as bella shrugged. "have you heard of not caring?" the older girl retorted walking into the room further as you covered up a laugh with a cough and alessia shot you a glare.

"see? she thinks i'm funny. why are you so in denial?" bella pouted, the two always arguing about something which amused you to no end given it was often over something so incredibly small it seemed they just enjoyed bickering.

there was only two years between them and they had more in common than either would care to admit, in fact both would argue they were one anothers opposite that really wasn't true.

you knew isabella had been training with arsenal in their junior academy and was hoping for a professional contract now she'd made her senior debut for the lionesses, both goals alessia was quickly following in her footsteps to also achieve, the entire russo household all football mad.

"what's all this then? college bribing you not to come anymore?" she began to rifle through the large box on the bed which you realised was full of various UNC swag. "get your filthy hands off it thank you! god knows where they've been." alessia scoffed, pushing her away and snapping the box closed.

"they're squeaky clean. want to check?" the older russo smirked, grabbing alessia by the face with her hand and pulling her into a headlock as you watched on in amusement. "get out! god i'm gonna miss you the least." alessia eventually pulled away, shoving the taller girl across the room with a glare.

"still admit you'll miss me though, and mum wants you." the girl winked backing away. "for what?" alessia questioned with a frown. "mm she did tell me, but i didn't care enough to remember." with a shrug bella left the room leaving alessia fuming and you quietly chuckling.

"why do you always egg her on by laughing! she's not funny she's infuriating!" alessia huffed glaring at you now as you held your hands up in defense, your best friend dragging you with her downstairs to see what her mum wanted.

"dinners ready. can you go get your sister and her friend please lessi?" carol asked, shooting the blonde a firm glare when she groaned at the request. "why do i have to come?" you laughed as she grabbed the back of your top, tugging you up with her.

"just think of it as me wanting to spend as much time with you before i leave." alessia grinned as the two of you ascended the stairs, her brothers already having moved out it just left alessia and isabella living at home.

"oh thats it is it?" you rolled your eyes knowing she was full of it as you reached her sisters door, alessia giving her sister the same courtesy she gave her as she flung her door open without knocking.

though she wished she hadn't.

"get out!" the older russo sat up quickly half naked spare some shorts and a bra, having been previously hovered over the girl pinned beneath her, the two clearly making out.

"jesus my poor eyes! dinners ready, looks like you were just about to eat though bella." alessia smirked before leaving the room, purposefully leaving her sisters door open.

"what are your ears painted on? fuck off!" bella scowled, throwing a pillow at you as you stood frozen, quickly spinning around and almost running out of the room, the door slamming closed after you.

safe to say she didn't come down for dinner after that.

"it's not even scary less, its a thriller!" you argued as you and alessia made your way back upstairs, each of you stating your case over what you wanted to watch tonight.

"my names not lily? jesus you're worse than what everyone says!" you both glanced down the hallway before entering alessia's room, the girl from earlier standing there with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face.

"sorry?" bella shrugged leaning in her doorway, clearly not sorry as the mystery girl whose name was not lily scoffed, shoving the taller girl and hurrying off downstairs to leave. "you truly are disgusting." alessia grimaced as her sister only grinned.

"careful now ally, did you used to say the same about all the girls gio snuck round?" the older girl winked, leaving her sister scoffing and about to defend herself before the door thudded closed.

"god she is insufferable."

"can you go make more popcorn?" alessia asked, head buried in her phone as you nodded, more than comfortable to help yourself to anything in the russo household. "can i go and make more popcorn..." you trailed off expectantly as the blonde tossed her phone beside her.

"now?" she guessed with a grin, causing you to flip her off as she tossed an m&m at your head and began to rummage around for the remote to select a new movie.

with it being half past ten at night you expected the kitchen to be vacant, though you noticed the lights were all on and as you rounded the corner you saw the older russo sister sat at the benchtop eating a plate of leftovers from dinner.

her attention on her phone she didn't notice you at first, only looking up as she heard you start to rummage around in the pantry. "surely we've started to charge you rent by now?" the older girl teased as you emerged with a bag of popcorn, rolling your eyes and tossing it in the microwave.

"i'll make sure to sign a jersey for you once i get my pro contract so you can sell it and buy my family some food since you consume so much of it." the taller girl shoved your head to the side playfully as you moved out of her way so she could rinse her plate.

"so. did you enjoy the little show earlier pervert?" she smirked, glancing at you as she dried up her plate. "what? you're so weird." you frowned, pulling yourself to sit up on the counter.

"please. you know if you asked me nicely i'd kiss you so you can stop wondering what it feels like." she grinned, moving closer to you as your frown turned into a scowl. "or so you can stop using your hand. less talks quite loudly you know." she teased, standing in between your legs as you tensed up a little.

if you were honest with yourself you'd always found her to be quite attractive but you'd never ever go there, both for your own and alessia's sake.

"i've kissed girls!" you defended truthfully, and you had, you'd just not ever progressed any further than that. "mm but have you been kissed by a girl?" the older russo quirked an eyebrow, leaning in closer as her hands fell either side of your body, somewhat caging you in.

"thats the same thing." you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how hard your heart was hammering in your chest. "that means no then." bella chuckled, tilting her head slightly.

"i mean have you ever been properly kissed by a girl? when she's got her tongue roaming your mouth, her teeth nipping down on your bottom lip before she sucks on it to soothe the sting-" she leaned in closer as your eyes widened.

"-where one of her hands are on the back of your neck so you can't pull away until she lets you, and the other hand...well it touches other parts of you." the older girl grinned wickedly, her mouth ghosting yours before she put her plate back in the cupboard behind your head and pulled away entirely.

"baby gays are always the cutest." bella winked, ruffling your hair and walking off as if she hadn't just sent your head into a spin, the beep of the microwave making you jump a little as you slid off the counter, shaking your head to try and rid it of the thoughts you'd just had.

she was your best friends sister, she'd always be off limits.

"just when i thought we'd gotten rid of you." you rolled your eyes as isabella opened the door for you with a sigh. "no one else is here and your best friends in another country, so then you must be here for me?" she grinned as you pushed past her, heading for the stairs.

alessia had been gone for months now and you missed her like crazy, so much so you'd booked a flight to go and visit her during what was to be her spring break and your time off from your own university course.

though of course that meant the girl had texted you a rather elaborate list of things she'd left behind that she requested you bring with you to see her, which despite the ongoing teasing that she'd lose her head was it not attached to her body you agreed to go and collect.

"she'd kill you for being in here." you sighed as the older russo collapsed onto her younger sisters bed, making herself comfortable as you began to gather what alessia had requested.

"only if you snitch me in." the girl grinned, watching you as you fluttered around the room. "surely you have something better to do? being a big pro now and all!" you sighed, looking at her with your hands on your hips.

"so you did hear! not even a congratulations? thats just poor manners." bella tutted with a shake of her head, sitting up and moving to the edge of the mattress. "i'm not an arsenal fan." you teased with a smile, hearing her scoff in mock offence.

"you don't have to be, you can just be my fan." bella challenged as you again rolled your eyes. "you know if i had a pound for every time you rolled your eyes at me over the years i could have bought a house by now." the older russo sister grinned.

"must mean you say a lot of stupid things to have girls always rolling their eyes at you." you quipped, rummaging through and grabbing out two hoodies, tossing them onto your growing pile.

"i personally prefer to make their eyes roll back into their heads." the taller girl commented quite casually, your eyes widening for a moment at the abrupt statement but choosing to ignore it. "so what are you doing after this?" she stood and made her way out, leaning in the doorway.

"going home?" you quirked an eyebrow unsure where she was going with this. "do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asked surprising you.

"are you asking me to hang out?"

"maybe. you miss less, i miss less, though if you tell her that i'll deny it till the day i die, we may as well keep one another company."

"plus i'm older so less's entire personality comes from me anyway. so it'll be like she never left, just swap one russo for another!" she added on with a smile as you shook your head.

"yeah sure, why not."

"burn yourself with the straightener did you?" you flinched suddenly as the girls thumb gently pressed into a fading love bite on the side of your neck, the only lingering evidence from an incredibly drunken hook up at a university party you'd gone to over the weekend.

and much to your best friends horror and delight, where you'd finally lost your virginity, before her.

"none of your business!" you pushed her hand away as she smiled and turned her attention back to the movie. well, for a few minutes. "finally dropped the baby gay card then, feel good?" she teased as you rolled your eyes.

"stop calling me that."

"oh sorry, prefer if i just call you baby then?"

"stop, bella seriously."

"what?"

"can you not keep it in your pants around anyone? or do you just shamelessly flirt with anything that moves?" you shot her a dirty side eye only making her smile widen. "well the something has to be female, obviously." you tried to hide your smile with your hand but she grabbed your wrist.

"saw that!" she teased as you tried to pull away, the two of you messing around for a moment before she leaned in and your heart began to race, recognize her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we can't." you whispered, hating how unsure your voice sounded. "tell me to stop and i will." she whispered back, leaning in even closer as you opened your mouth and she paused, but you couldn't speak.

taking that as permission she closed the small gap in between you both, pressing her lips firmly to yours. you'd have loved to say you pushed her off, told her again that you couldn't, thought about your best friend and what she might think.

but the only thing that consumed your mind was her and how good her mouth felt molded with your own. as you began to kiss back you felt her hands move, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle her lap, movie long forgotten in the background.

"alessia." you pulled away remembering your best friend as the older girl nipped at your bottom lip and your stomach twisted. "doesn't have to know." bella promised and you hesitated for a moment, but as her lips curled into a cocky smile and her hand flew to the back of your head, you knew you were a goner.

safe to say that was not the last time it happened, far from it.

you ignored the guilt which bubbled up in your stomach as you pretended it never happened, flying over to see your best friend and spending two blissful weeks with her, then flying over again a couple of months later to watch her in the she believes tournament where she would finally get her senior national team debut.

though of course that also meant isabella would be playing, and their whole family would be there with you.

"i'm so so proud of you!" you yelled happily as your best friend jogged over, shit eating grin on her face as she wrapped you up in a hug, isabella hanging back as she chatted with some of her team mates, though her eyes lingered on you.

and it was those lingering eyes which eventually did you both in.

you were all out for dinner after the game, you seated beside your best friend and luca, gio opposite him as the other russo sister sat across from you and mario across from alessia, carol at the head of the table.

you'd hardly spoken to her the entire time you'd been around, focusing all of your time and attention on the rare moments spent with your best friend who you knew you'd have to say goodbye to again in a few days time.

however that didn't stop the defender from trying to gain your attention, sending you subtle looks across the table as she kicked you playfully, winking at you when alessia wasn't looking.

well, when she thought she wasn't looking.

dinner finished you excused yourself to the bathroom, declining your best friends offer to come with you with a laugh as you promised to meet them outside the restaurant.

you did your business and washed your hands, hearing the door open but not bothering to look up, jumping in shock as arms wrapped around your torso and a familiar pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

"bella we can't." you chuckled, though still leaning your head back a little to give her more access, eyes fluttering closed as she peppered the warm skin with butterfly kisses. "can't we?" she smirked at you through the mirror with that same cocky smile that made your knees weak every time.

"i've missed you in camp." she confessed softly, spinning your body round and pushing it into the bathroom counter, wasting no time rewarding you with a searing kiss which sent your head spinning.

"they'll wonder where we are." you exhaled shakily, using all your willpower and pushing her off you. "you won't escape me later." she warned playfully, nodding for you to leave first as she hung back.

it was several hours later, you and alessia hanging in your shared hotel room together catching up just like normal, your combined laughters echoing around the room as the girls phone suddenly buzzed.

"hey i have to go talk to the training staff about something. but find a movie, i'll be back!" she promised, rolling off the bed as you nodded, not bothering to question why she was suddenly needing to speak to the training staff at almost ten at night.

alessia wasted no time marching down the hallway to where her sisters room was, knocking impatiently as she answered. "oh come on in!" the older russo chuckled as alessia shoved past her, checking the two of them were alone.

"how long?" alessia asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the taller girl who frowned, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "pardon?"

"how long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?" alessia spat, scarily calm as a storm brewed behind her bright blue eyes. "look less-"

"no, don't lie. i saw your little fuck me eyes across the table, and it wasn't her leg you kept kicking at the table. so tell me the truth." alessia warned as her sister sighed, rubbing her face with her hands unsure how to find a way out of this.

"we haven't slept together, i promise."

"but?"

"but we've done, other things."

"you are seriously unbelievable. you couldn't just be happy plowing your way through every insecure footballer in london, you had to go for my best friend?" alessia yelled angrily, fists balled by her sides.

"woah okay less i think you're overre-"

"you're going to stay away from her bella. she's not just another name for your books, she's my best friend and a better sister to me than you've ever been!" alessia fumed, hurt flashing across the older girls face momentarily before it hardened.

"it takes two to tango. you gonna go yell at her too then?"

"she can't have known any better, which is why you're going to stay away from her. i won't let you take advantage of the fact she see's the good in people, as little of it exists in you."

"fine. get out!" the taller girl stood, shoving her sister back who scoffed, turning on her heel. "happily!" the door slamming after her, you none the wiser of anything that had just happened as alessia returned, plastering a fake smile on her face and not uttering a single word about it.

which is why it hurt all the more as you slipped out of your room to call your mum that next morning as to not wake your best friend.

making the mistake of glancing down the hall, you watched as a random girl slipped out of one of the rooms, a familiar face kissing her goodbye with a grin.

you froze and thats when her eyes met yours, not a single look of regret on her face as you stared one another down for a moment before she watched you hurry back into alessia's room.

she was your best friends sister, and that's all she'd ever be to you.

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso #alessia russo #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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