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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

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consequences: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.4k

synopsis: folding your boyfriends laundry is a normal for you, mostly when his schedule is busy. so being the good girlfriend you are, you fold his laundry and stumble upon his soccer jersey, deciding to tease him with it and ultimately dealing with the consequences of your actions once he returns home.

genre: established relationship, non-idol!au, soccer player!jake, smut

warnings: swearing, sending nudes, bratty reader, masturbation, degrading, unprotected sex, dom!jake, jake rips readers panties, he is rough with reader, hair pulling, sex on the counter top, finger sucking, edging, MINORS DNI, lmk if I missed anything ♡

this is specially dedicated to @alvojake for helping me create this masterpiece ♡

You let yourself into your boyfriend's apartment, finding the hidden spare key inside the fake potted plant by the door, and strolling on inside. You knew he didn’t mind, you practically lived here anyway, preferring his bed over the shitty one you had back at the dorms. You might as well just move in with him at this point, most of your clothes and belongings are here as well.

Again, it was perfectly normal for you to randomly show up at his apartment even when he wasn’t home. Sending him a quick text letting him know you’re waiting for him to come home from work and soccer practice, to which he responds back with three heart-eye emojis.

Jake is always working so hard, not just at his job and college, but also at his sport, and on top of being a great boyfriend and always making time for you within his busy schedule. Taking the “if they want to they will!!” to a whole other level. Jake spoils you, cooks for you, always makes sure you feel loved and cared and most of all, he communicates.

And because he is always giving everything his one hundred percent in all areas, the least you could do is help keep his apartment clean, fridge and pantry stocked with food, and keep up with his laundry.

Which is the first thing your eyes are laid upon when you walk into the apartment, seeing all his clothes tossed onto the couch with his clean clothes laundry basket sitting beside the coffee table.

The apartment smelt of his laundry detergent and soap, the sweet smell of lavender and honey filling your senses as you stepped closer to the couch, on instinct sitting down in the middle of the couch and picking at the clothing one by one to fold them. Separating them into categories as you folded: jeans and sweatpants, boxers and socks, shirts, tanks, and sweatshirts, his hoodies, his dressier clothing, and last but not least, his soccer jerseys.

Not only did Jake have a couple extra jerseys from the team he plays on for the college you both attended, but professional jerseys from his favorite teams.

One by one, you took the now folded laundry to his bedroom, placing them neatly in his dresser. But once it was time for the jerseys to be played neatly in, you accidentally dropped one onto the floor.

With a sigh, you gently pressed the other jerseys into the drawer, then picked up the now unfolded one. You stared at his last name printed in big bolded “SIM” lettering, your eyes roaming at the blue and white stripes of your college's colors, then wandering up to the full-length mirror that rested against his bedroom wall, seeing your reflection.

You rubbed your thighs together at the thoughts that came into your mind, tucking your lip between your teeth.

You didn’t think twice about removing your clothing, leaving you completely naked until you pulled his jersey over your head, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric.

Sitting yourself on the floor in front of the mirror, you snapped a few photos, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and sitting straight enough that your nipples could obviously be seen. You turned yourself around, sitting pretty on your legs, lifting his jersey up enough to get a perfect view of your ass, and snapped a couple more photos.

You grinned at yourself as you double-checked each photo, being satisfied with the outcomes. All you had to do now was send them on their way to your boyfriend.

Jake sat at his computer desk, picking the lint out of the pockets of his jeans while watching Heeseung and Jay play rock paper scissors out of pure boredom. Usually, on a normal day, there’d be something to do. Whether that was paperwork, speaking to clients, scheduling meetings, or placing orders. But today? Not. A. Damn. Fucking. Thing. It took everything in Jake to not purposely sit back into his chair far enough that it tipped over and caused a panic just to help give everyone something to do.

He checked the clock at the far end of the office, still two hours left before he could dip out and head to soccer practice then return home and be in your arms. Which was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the second-story window from this boredom, by the way.

As if the thoughts of you were enough to manifest your text, he couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing your name on his phone.

you: I folded your laundry jakey <3 jake: tysm baby <3 what would I do without you fr fr?

The love Jake felt for you in this moment made him feel all warm and content, you were so good to him and for him. He literally couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

you: I did more than just your laundry. jake: oh? you: [6 image attachments]

Jake nearly dropped his phone to the floor, his pants growing tighter the minute those sexy photos popped up in his texts. Quickly locked his phone and with a swift motion glanced over his shoulder making sure none of his co-workers were behind him when he received those photos.

You smirked at seeing he read the message, already knowing he was probably panicking while being as hard as a rock. Leaning back on your ass to spread your legs further apart, you slide your fingers down your folds, spreading your lips apart. The very thought of Jake squirming at his desk to hide his raging boner had you completely soaked.

Jake tried to clear his thoughts, to take deep breaths to keep calm and soften his cock but not having any luck. The images of bending you over this desk in front of him and railing the fuck out of you in his jersey wouldn’t leave his brain. His pants grew ever more tighter against him.

He knew he had to take care of this boner and fast before anyone noticed and he became the laughing joke for the next month.

With anger now fueling him, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held it close to his lower stomach as he stood from his chair, “Gonna take a quick break, be right back,” he said to Heeseung and Jay, they giving him a quick nod before returning to their rock paper scissors game.

Jake slammed the bathroom door shut and locked, tossing his jacket to the counter. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down feeling the relief of his throbbing cock not being restricted, slamming his back against the door.

Jake fumbled with his phone in his hands, fingers shaking as he texted you back after saving each photo one by one.

jake: that was risky sending nudes like that while I am working. you: but you loved it, didn’t you? ;) jake: what if someone saw them? i’m the only one who gets to see you like that. you: oops you: [2 image attachments]

He clicked the two new photos, seeing the way your fingers spread your folds apart, your cunt glistening against the sunlight that beamed into the room from your slick.

Jake gritted his teeth, immediately dialing your number and pressing the phone to his ear, the call instantly going to voice mail, “ugh fucking whore,” he grumbled, redialing your number again. You knew better than to ignore his call a second time and answer.

With a shaky voice, you said, “Hey baby,”

“Hmm don’t hey baby me,” he growled, his free hand palming himself through his boxers at your voice, “you’re being so risky right now sending me those nudes, YN.”

You could tell by his voice how hard and turned-on he was. You could hear it in his voice that he was touching himself. It made you circle your fingers on your clit and cunt clench around nothing, “Hmm but you’re enjoying it, aren’t you Jakey?”

He slid his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, seeing how red and angry his cock was, how the precum slowly dripped down the side of the tip. He took himself in his hand and slowly pumped himself, “You’re being so naughty right now, being so slutty.”

You softly moan at him degrading you, rubbing your fingers against your fuck hole, the lewd sounds making their way into Jake’s ear.

“You better not be touching yourself,” he snapped, pumping his cock faster, tightening his fingers. He was so angry and so horny that the lines were getting blurred. He wanted nothing more than for his fingers to be the ones rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you.

“And what if I am?” you cooed, hovering your fingers over your hole.

“Stop,” he demanded, “Stop pleasuring yourself without me there as punishment for sending me nudes while I am working.”

Jake had to admit this was so fucking hot. Even if your bratty behavior was driving him up a wall in more than just one way.

“And if I don’t?” you cooed again, licking your bottom lip.

“Keep being a brat and find out.”

You pushed your fingers into your cunt, releasing a soft gasp.

“You better not be fucking touching yourself,” he said again.

You giggled, then ended the call.

Oh, now he was pissed.

Jake dropped his cock against his abdomen, both thumbs moving at the speed of light in anger, texting out a message about your bratty behavior, but stopping midway through to see a photo and video coming up.

The photo made his jaw clench. His jersey was now pulled up over your breasts, your perky nipples on full display as your legs are spread even wider than in the last couple of photos, with two of your fingers pushed knuckles deep into your pussy.

What a fucking brat.

The video was worse. You moaned loudly as you circled your fingers around your clit, then slowly slipped them between your legs, gathering your juices from your seeping hole, rubbing it up and spreading it around your lips. A small amount of it leaked from your cunt, slowly dripping down to the hardwood floor of his bedroom and then the video ended.

WHAT. A. FUCKING. BRAT.

He spit in his hand and took his cock back into his palm, stroking himself faster than before, head tilting back onto the door, biting his lip to keep his moans at a minimal level as his thumb worked to text you back.

jake: it’s all over for you you: oh yeah? jake: yeah jake: i’m going to fucking ruin you

You smirked, locking your phone and tossing it onto his bed, and pulled your pretty dark blue panties back onto your body.

While you were smitten at what you’ve created, Jake is drawing blood from his lip at how hard his teeth bit down. His hand pumping him in a pit of anger. How dare you disobey him? Even if it made him even more horny, how dare you? It was one thing to be bratty while with him, but to be so brave to do it while he’s away from you? Did you think you were safe? Nah. It’s over for you the minute he steps foot into that apartment. You wouldn’t know peace. Getting everything but being gentle with you.

Jake flipped through the photos and video you sent him, watching again and again how your slick drips from your cunt and onto his floor until his cum shoots out, coating his stomach. He loved seeing you wearing his clothes, mostly his jersey. Loving seeing his last name printed on the back with your gorgeous fat ass out sitting so perfectly on your perfect legs. Jake didn’t hesitate to make that his new home wallpaper. It was so fucking hot even with how mad he was.

Jerking off might have taken care of his boner problem, but the main issue here is the fact he still has a little over an hour before getting off work and still had soccer practice to attend. The only thing Jake knew was you definitely made his workday entertaining.

You were banking on that by the time Jake gets off work and attends practice, he would be way too tired to even punish you. So you pranced around his apartment in his jersey and your dark blue panties with a big ole smile on your face.

Your stomach growled and decided to push your bratty, naughty girlfriend persona off to the back burner and go back to your sweet, caring, loving, and cute girlfriend persona who takes care of her boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away.

You cooked dinner, which you don’t often do but still will on days Jake has longer schedules like tonight—putting together the perfect recipe for spaghetti and meatballs.

Once the food was done, you checked the time, seeing Jake was probably off work now and heading to practice. You felt good knowing that once he returns home he’ll have a warm meal to eat.

Except, you weren’t expecting what was about to happen.

Jake skipped practice.

Being way too damn horny and couldn’t wait a second longer. Jake was lucky he was able to keep a perfect boner (that unfortunately resurfaced) during the last hour of work. Made a phone call the minute he was out of his company building to his coach about how something urgent came up and he’d be missing practice tonight.

Urgent as in him fucking you until you could no longer stand or walk. For a whole fucking week.

Jake was sneaky as he carefully pushed his key into the doorknob and tip-toed his way in. Slowly and quietly closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes.

The smell of dinner filled his nose as he turned the corner, seeing you stand at the counter with your back facing him.

Jake carefully made his way across the living room, removing his shirt from his body, stopping at the couch to quietly yank down his jeans and boxers and slide them over the back of the couch.

You hummed to yourself as you finished up your dinner, wiggling your hips to whatever song you had stuck in your head.

Jake adored you, he really did. The feeling of endearment filled his heart at seeing how happy and cute you looked right now. Jake almost—almost—forgave your behavior from earlier at the sight before him and the smell of dinner waiting for him. But his raging hard cock and the flash of your dark blue panties pulled him back. He’ll give you his forgiveness another time.

You barely pushed the empty plate away from you when you felt a pair of hands touch you. One at the back of your neck and the other on your back, shoving you forward onto the counter. Your face is now pressed against the cool marble.

Your breath hitched at feeling your boyfriend’s long, hard length connecting to your ass. You don’t even need to look at him to know the hands and cock touching you’re his. You could be blind and you’d know your boyfriend's hands without a second thought.

You finally saw him in your peripheral vision as his chest connected to your back, hot breath hitting your ear, “You think making dinner would put you in good graces?”

“Jae,” you whined, “You’re home so early.”

He chuckled into your ear, “Skipped practice, had more important matters to take care of.”

Important matters being to punish you for your behavior. You could already feel your slick pooling in your panties even as your heart raced, mind wondering what he had in store for you. You could also tell he was already naked, meaning Jake meant business and no amount of apologizing would save you. Not that you wanted to be saved anyway.

The hand that was at your back slid down, aggressively squeezing your ass before slipping his hand around your thigh and between your legs, feeling your wetness pool onto his fingers. Jake hissed at the feeling. You were soaked. He didn’t even need to prep you. And that drove him insane.

“I told you to not fucking touch yourself,” he growled, his tongue licking up your ear, “But you had to go be a slut and disobey me.”

You backed your ass against him, both hands shooting to your hips and gripping them tightly, “Don’t,” he warned, “Don’t fucking move.”

You obeyed, keeping as still as possible. Trying so hard to not rub your thighs together in anticipation of what is to come.

Jake lifted himself off of you, eyes drifting down to your dark blue panties, seeing the wet spot from your cunt on full display, all for him.

Jake didn’t want to wait those few couple seconds to slide your pretty panties down your legs and throw them across the room. No, no. That wouldn’t be fun. He looped his index fingers into the fabric and the sound of them ripping filled the kitchen.

“Jake!” you snapped, starting to lift yourself off the counter, only to feel his hand right back on your neck and face meeting the marble once again, “Those were my favorite panties!”

“Womp womp,” he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your neck, as his fingers slid down to your clit, “Shouldn't have been acting like a fucking brat today. I also told you to not fucking move.”

Jake violently, and fastly, circled his fingers on your clit. It took everything in you to not moan out in such pleasure. Not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction of hearing you. He wanted to call you a brat? You’ll act like a brat.

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you were purposely holding back those sweet moans he desperately wanted to hear all in a way to get back at him. Unfortunately for you, Jake knows your body inside and out. Know what gets you going. Knows how to get you cumming with just his words alone. Knows how to work his cock in your pussy that will have you scream chanting his name at the top of your lungs for the whole apartment complex to hear.

He released his hand from your neck and wrapped it in your hair in a makeshift ponytail, yanking harshly to pull you up, your back now pressed to his chest.

“Wanna act like a fucking brat with me, hmm? What will be happening next is the consequences of your actions.”

Your bratty behavior was short-lived as his fingers worked faster against your clit, his breath whispering how much of a slut you were, his little whore, how bad of a girl you were acting today.

Your body tensed, and Jake removed his fingers, “Jae,” you whined at the loss of his fingers, feeling the climax you so badly wanted fade away, taking it upon yourself to slide your own fingers to your heat to finish yourself off, only for Jake to slap your hand away, and you were back to being bent over the countertop, your arms being pinned above you.

“Nah,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to bend it up and onto the counter, “Bad girls don’t get to cum, not when they disobey their boyfriend.”

You groaned against the marble, feeling your hot breath push back up at you, “Jae, I’m sorry,”

Jake smirked, he finally broke you.

“Oh, yeah?” he whispered, taking his cock between his fingers and lining the tip up to your fuck hole, “You’re sorry?”

You nodded, fingers gripping the hand that held yours. You wanted his cock so far up inside you so bad you were willing to beg, to apologize if it got you what you wanted.

Jake slowly pushed the tip in, “Use your words, baby,”

“Yes,” you pant, “I am sorry for being a brat.”

“Hmmm,” Jake hummed, “You’re still going to be punished.”

Jake aggressively pushed himself into you, completely bottoming out.

You chant out a string of “yes yes yes,” at him filling you up. But to your dismay, he didn’t move.

His fingers found your clit again, going just as fast as they did before his palm pushed down on your tummy, putting more pressure on his dick wrapped in your walls.

You let out wet moans, drool sliding out your mouth and onto the countertop.

“Louder, baby,” he groaned, “let me hear those sounds,”

You moaned louder, cunt clenching around him, and his fingers were once again gone.

You hissed at him and he just chuckled, “I told you bad girls don’t get to cum,”

He continued to edge you, dick still not moving inside of you, reminding you over and over again that this was your punishment, this was the consequences of your actions. Being denied the release you so desperately wanted.

Tears filled your eyes, head softly tilting up to make eye contact with him.

His pupils were blown out, full of lust, want, and need. You could tell by his facial expression he was losing his fucking mind. But Jake was strong-willed, and all it took was you locking eyes with him, batting those pretty eyes at him with those little tears for his grin to grow wider and decide to finally let you release.

Jake loved edging you, loved being so dominant and in control over you. Most importantly, he loved seeing how he’s ruined you.

“Cum,” he whispered into your ear, “Cum for me my love, make a sweet mess on my cock.”

You clenched around him, his fingers continued making their circles and showing no sign of slowing down until he felt your release on his cock.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, slowing his fingers.

Jake could feel your cum seeping out of your hole and down his thigh. He lifted your leg on the countertop even higher, spreading you so wide for him.

Then he started moving.

You yelped, your back arching, hands scrambling to get out of his hold to grip the counter. He fucked into you at a primal rate. The hand on your thigh squeezing the plush so hard his nails dug into the skin sure to leave bruises.

His hand released your hands and found their way back into your hair, pulling you back up against his chest.

“Scream my name,” he moaned into your ear, breathing unevenly from the pure pleasure his cock was feeling as he railed you against this counter, “Scream my name.”

And you did, using every ounce of air in your lungs to scream his name, his cock hitting your g-spot as your climax built up again. You already knew you’d have bruises on your hips from hitting the counter by his fucking, that your voice would be nonexistent in the morning, your legs would be jelly, and barely be able to move.

But you loved it. Loved every bit of it. These were the consequences of your choices, after all.

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, mouth gaping open as you continued to moan out his name in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help himself, your mouth looked so pretty all open for him and shoved his fingers into your mouth, the middle pushing down onto your tongue.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue swirling around his digits the best you could with the pressure he had on it.

Jake was losing his mind as he looked down at you, seeing the way your breasts bounce as his dick fucked up into you, seeing the way your nipples graze against his jersey.

Fuck he was so in love with you.

His thrusts became sloppy and not as aggressive. He was reaching his climax.

“Ughh m’gunna cum,” he moaned, your lips wrapping around his fingers and slightly biting down onto them, making him hiss in response.

Jake wanted to cum so fucking bad, wanted to feel you tightly around him as he came.

He shoved your leg off the counter, groaning as he forced your thighs to touch, making you so much tighter around him. You came right then and there from that pressure, sending Jake’s head spinning.

He bent you back over the countertop, removing his fingers from your mouth and gripping the other side of the counter, his hand that was in your mouth slipping from your saliva and accidentally shoving the plate that once held your dinner off the counter and onto the hard floor with a crash.

He pressed his chest to your back, using all his leg and hip strength to fuck harder into you in a way of begging for his release. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the counter, teeth biting down into your shoulder.

The last moan you let out in sync with his final thrust sent him over the edge, his cum painting your walls. Jake thrust a couple more times to chase his high, milking his cock with your cunt of every last drop until it was leaking down your leg.

“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, releasing the counter and running his hands down to your waist, softly squeezing as he plants soft kisses on your back, “I fucking love you.”

With a shaky breath, you told him you loved him too.

He pulled out of you, and lifted you from the counter, already seeing how wobbly your legs were, it boosted his ego.

Jake embraced you, kissing all over your face before landing on your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

Just when you think you’ve paid your dues, Jake’s cock hardened against your stomach, and his eyes went dark again, his index finger pointing at the broken plate on the floor while his other hand gripped your chin, “Clean it up please for me baby while I eat the delicious dinner you made for me, can’t let it go to waste.”

You nodded, watching as Jake removed himself from you and walked to the stove, grabbing a plate. You studied his back muscles, lip tucking between your teeth at how sexy he was shirtless, how sexy his back was.

“Oh, YN?” you hummed in response, watching as he slowly turned to face you, “Drink some water to soothe that throat of yours will ya? You’re going to suck me off after I eat.”

You rubbed your thighs together in excitement. Hands playing with the ends of his jersey.

Maybe you’ll be a brat when he’s away more often.

#jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #reader x jake #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #yeonzzzn writing

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darkmatilda · 7 days ago

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𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer genuinely can't believe that you're being kind to him. and you—well, you weren’t ashamed to admit that seeing him with the child had just a little melted your heart.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, a very fleeting mention of the babysitter kidnapper, but other than that, the fluffiest shit ive ever written (don't get used to it) (love them so much shshaha its unhealthy) (spencer performing MAGIC TRICK!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.3k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by lovely @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat love you so much you have no idea

The yellow Ford Falcon XB was reaching its record speed, slicing through the racetrack like a released arrow, emitting that signature mechanical growl and drawing dozens of captivated gazes.

At least, that’s how it looked through the eyes of a six-year-old.

Through Spencer’s eyes, it was just a toy car being pushed across the wooden surface of the table by a small hand.

The boy’s brown hair nearly touched his shoulders, and he wore a blue soccer jersey with a number on the back. His gaze wasn’t curiously darting around the office where they were alone—it was fixed solely on his favorite toy.

Reid watched him in silence for a moment, letting him play in peace before starting the conversation he, unfortunately, had to initiate.

For some time now, they had been working on a case involving the abduction of babysitters—each disappearing while on the job, vanishing after leaving the house with the children they were watching. Whether heading to the park, the playground, or a store, that was the only variable. The rest of the details were so methodical, so patterned, that there was no doubt they were dealing with a serial offender.

"Liam," he began, drawing the boy’s green eyes to him.

Spencer didn’t feel comfortable in this role. He never considered himself particularly gifted when it came to interacting with children—which was strange, considering everyone around him seemed to think otherwise. Especially since the arrival of his godson, Henry, had given him more opportunities for it.

"My name is Spencer, and…I’d like to talk to you for a moment."

He paused. The boy's face took on an odd expression; he didn’t respond, just looked at him with a certain shyness. Spencer hesitated, opening his mouth only to close it again.

All the previous babysitters had been taken the moment they looked away, leaving the children alone. From a child’s perspective, it must have been confusing. One moment, their beloved babysitter was with them, and the next, uniformed officers arrived, whisking them away to a place where more strange adults asked them strange but gentle questions.

For example, if they saw anything strange.

Strange? The children never really understood what that meant. After all, they had just been playing at the park like they did every afternoon. What could possibly be strange about that?

Spencer sighed. He didn’t want to bombard the boy with questions that would, at best, earn him a nod or a shake of the head. If he wanted answers—testimony (though the word felt absurd when referring to a six-year-old)—he’d have to take a different approach. He needed Liam to open up naturally. Even if it took a little longer.

"Is that a Falcon XB?" he asked, deliberately exaggerating his interest as he nodded toward the toy car teetering at the edge of the table. He moved around to take a seat beside the boy, slouching slightly. It always seemed easier to talk to kids when they were at the same eye level. "Can I see it?"

Liam stared at him for a moment before nodding.

Spencer carefully picked up the toy. His hesitation wasn’t just about earning the boy’s trust—though that was important. No, the real reason for his reluctance was the fact that, just five minutes ago, he had watched Liam absentmindedly shove the car into his mouth, biting down on its yellow surface.

"It’s really cool. Is it your favorite?" he asked, trying to push aside the thought of bacteria. The countless, countless bacteria.

There are an estimated 700 different species living in the human mouth…

Liam nodded again.

Focus, Reid. Cars, not bacteria.

"Did you know the original Falcon XB had an engine that let it reach over 220 kilometers per hour? It was so popular in Australia that the police used it for high-speed chases."

The boy studied him in silence for a moment, but Spencer could tell he had his attention.

“So…it’s a police car? Why doesn’t it have a siren?”

“The ones used by the police did," Spencer explained. "They also had lights on the roof so they could chase criminals. You know, yours might not have them because…”—he lowered his voice—“…it’s actually a secret police car.”

Liam frowned, clearly not following. “A secret police car?”

Spencer nodded.

“Used for undercover missions,” he continued. The boy’s full attention was locked onto him now—he must’ve hit on something that really fascinated him. “By secret agents, so they wouldn’t be noticed. And when they really need to…”

He glanced at Liam out of the corner of his eye, making sure the boy was still watching him closely. Once he was sure he had him hooked, Spencer clasped his hands together, concealing the Hot Wheels car between them. He held them still for a moment, letting the anticipation build.

Then, finally, he pulled them apart—revealing nothing but empty palms.

“…it disappears.”

The boy’s mouth fell open in amazement, gasping. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even though, to him, it was nothing impressive. He had done this trick hundreds of times—it was so simple. And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about watching the boy’s reaction, seeing how intently he studied Spencer’s hands, completely baffled by the disappearance of his toy.

Then suddenly, in the middle of it all, Spencer felt someone watching him.

He shifted his gaze toward the doorway, toward the figure standing in the threshold—the sight of whom caused his smile to falter. Not out of displeasure, but more out of surprise. And it wasn’t just her presence that caught him off guard. Lately, they had been running into each other in the most unexpected situations, to the point where he was starting to get used to it. What he wasn’t used to was the expression on her face.

By now, he had memorized the looks she most often wore around him—irritation, sarcasm, playful exasperation. But the way her head tilted slightly to the side, the faint curve at the corner of her lips, and the softness in her eyes didn’t fit into any of those categories.

Spencer felt his shoulders tense. He wasn’t sure if he had always been this paranoid or if it was a newly acquired trait—maybe one tied specifically to her—but a sense of unease settled over him. Before standing up to approach her and find out what she wanted, he cleared his throat and turned back to Liam one last time. He placed his hand behind the boy’s ear, pulling out the toy car as if it had been hidden there all along.

“I’ll be back in a moment, alright?” he informed him.

The boy didn’t even look at him, completely engrossed in examining the car from every angle, as if truly believing it could vanish on command. Spencer found himself smiling again. But that expression faded entirely when he stepped closer to the woman leaning against the doorframe. She shifted slightly backward into the hallway—probably to keep their conversation out of the child’s earshot.

“You know,” she started before he could say anything, raising her eyebrows slightly.

She lifted something in her hand—something Spencer hadn’t even noticed before, too focused on analyzing the look on her face. That suspicious look on her face. It was a plastic box of crayons.

“When JJ ran into me in the hallway, shoving this into my hands and begging me to find Spence and give it to him, I was a little confused. But now I get it.”

She nodded toward the boy.

Spencer instinctively followed her gaze, mirroring its path. At the same time, she shoved the box of crayons into his hands. Caught off guard, he had to grip it tightly to keep from dropping it. She then crossed her arms over her chest.

He glanced at her face once more and suddenly sighed, finally realizing what this meant.

“Oh, well, let me guess,” he began, rolling his eyes upward. “Because you had to deliver this to me, you now expect something in return. And you won’t tell me what, you’ll just keep me in suspense for the next few weeks, casually reminding me that I owe you, until eventually, you demand something absolutely ridiculous.”

He spoke with confidence, convinced of his theory. But as a prolonged silence settled between them, he started to doubt it. Especially when she averted her gaze for a moment.

Someone might think she was crafting a particularly sharp retort—he himself considered it for a second—until he realized she never needed time to think of a comeback. When talking to him, they rolled off her tongue at machine-gun speed.

Another brief glance toward the boy.

"This is about the case with the kidnapped babysitters, isn’t it?" she asked, completely ignoring his entire speech. "I heard something about it. The kid—he's okay?"

Spencer didn't hide his surprise at the question. It took him a moment to realize that it was completely natural in this situation—almost anyone would have asked it. Maybe it was just the rare trace of concern in her voice that caught him off guard.

“Um… yeah…yeah, he's okay,” he stammered, his tongue suddenly twisting over the words. He had no idea why. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the strange fog in his brain.

“I mean, I was just about to talk to him, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t see anything. Same as in the previous cases. This unsub doesn’t…doesn’t hurt kids.” Suddenly, he became aware of the weight of the crayons in his hands, remembering them again. He added, “And, uh, thanks for this. When we work with kids, we often give them paper and crayons. Sometimes it’s easier for them to draw something than to say it out loud.”

She let out a sound—a hum—suggesting that she understood.

He caught himself mentally keeping track of time. They were probably breaking a record for how long they had gone without arguing. Or at least without one of them slipping in a tiny jab at the other.

He was experiencing so-called cognitive dissonance.

“So, they stuck you with babysitting duty today?” she asked. Before he could respond, she let out a quiet snort. “Well, no surprise there.”

“What do you mean?” Spencer frowned. “By the way, this isn’t a common thing. I’m not particularly good with kids. Usually, they assign someone else for this, like—”

“I’m not particularly good with kids,” she repeated, her voice laced with mockery.

Oh. So they were back to their usual dynamic.

“Congratulations. You heard me correctly.”

“I know I did,” she shot back, sharper this time. “I just don’t agree. I watched you two for a moment. You are good with kids. Didn’t you see how excited he was when you did that trick?”

“He was just surprised. I made his toy disappear.”

“Which doesn’t change the fact that he’s a kid whose babysitter was just…” She mouthed the word kidnapped, only her lips forming the shape of it. “Something he might not fully grasp, but still—he was taken to a completely unfamiliar place, away from his parents. And instead of being terrified, he’s calm, even fascinated by what you showed him. So, like I said, you are good with kids.”

Spencer listened to her explanation, an odd feeling creeping over him. A kind of uncertainty, like she couldn’t possibly be talking about him. He almost wanted to turn around, check if someone was standing behind him, if the words were meant for someone else. But he didn’t—because, strangely, even moving felt difficult at that moment.

“Anyway,” she murmured suddenly, breaking the prolonged silence between them. “I’ve got to go. And don’t worry, you don’t owe me anything this time. I’ll let you off the hook—just this once.”

Before she left, she focused on his face one last time. That strange expression was still there—the same one from the beginning of their conversation, the one that had thrown him into cognitive dissonance. That strange expression that, maybe, was… something kind?

He returned to Liam, so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed the boy watching him for quite some time. He gave a small nod, pulling himself back to reality, back to the case at hand.

“She’s your friend?” Liam asked, his gaze drifting to where the woman had just been standing.

Spencer set the box of crayons down on the table, within the boy’s reach. He considered the question for a moment. He decided, however, that a six-year-old didn’t need the complicated details of their relationship.

“Yes.”

A brief silence followed his—well, lie.

“Really pretty.”

Laughter gathered in his chest. It was, in its own way, charming—the infatuation hidden in his shy words.

"Yes," he nodded gently. "I mean, she knows that”

"Because you told her?"

He hesitated at those words, genuinely unsure of what to say. Fortunately, the boy wasn’t waiting for an answer. For a moment, his green eyes locked onto the toy car still sitting on the table, then back to Spencer, full of silent request.

"Can you teach me that trick?"

"Okay, buddy. Don’t stress. You’ve got this. Good luck."

Spencer patted the boy on the back. Liam gave a small nod, as if gathering courage, then hesitantly made his way toward the woman.

At the sight of a child suddenly at her feet, her eyebrows lifted high. She crouched down, asking him something in a soft voice.

Liam held out both fists, the yellow toy barely fitting in one of them. It was obvious where it was hidden, yet the woman pretended to consider her choice carefully before pointing at one hand.

Proud of himself, he revealed both empty palms—then pulled the toy car from behind her ear.

Her lips stretched into a wide smile, exaggerated in surprise. Then, she sought out his gaze, holding it for a lingering moment—just long enough for Spencer to realize he was smiling too.

#criminal minds #diva reader ♱#dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fluff

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kxsagi · 5 days ago

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I saw this one idea from an acc and i LOVED IT. Bluelock boys x football player reader?? Thank uuu

“𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐟 > 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦”

a/n: soccer is such a hot sport

ft. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, tabito karasu, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

rin doesn’t do loud cheering. no standing ovations or dramatic fist pumps. nah, he’s the type to sit in the stands with his arms crossed, expression blank, looking like he doesn’t even care. but anyone with half a brain could tell by the way his eyes are locked on you, laser-sharp and focused, that he cares more than anyone else in the stadium. when you score, his lips twitch into the tiniest smirk, and he barely nods, but his fingers tighten around his phone, snapping a photo of you mid-goal. and when you jog over to the sidelines for a water break, he casually offers you his bottle with a deadpan, “good shot.” but the way he holds it out, already uncapped, like he was waiting for you? yeah, he’s been holding that bottle for the last ten minutes, just in case.

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢

you know shidou’s the type of bf who yells your name like he’s front row at a concert. “THAT’S MY GIRL, BABY! YEAH, SHOW ‘EM WHO’S BOSS!” he’s practically hanging over the railing, shirt half unbuttoned, hair wild from how many times he’s run his fingers through it in excitement. the man is hoarse by halftime from screaming praise at you. when you land a perfect corner kick, he turns to the random dude next to him and slaps his shoulder. “DID YOU SEE THAT? THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND. LIKE, ACTUALLY. I’M DATING HER.” post-game, he practically tackles you with a hug, sweaty jersey be damned. he grins like a maniac, pressing wet, obnoxious kisses all over your face. “fuck, you were insane out there. mvp. the whole field was yours.”

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐞

sae acts like it’s no big deal. like, whatever, you’re just a pro soccer player, no big deal. but he cannot help himself. whenever someone even vaguely mentions soccer, he casually slips your name into the convo like it’s nothing. “yeah, my girlfriend scored twice in her last match. no big deal.” except he says it so smugly that people have to ask. and oh, does he love when they ask. his voice is flat, but the glimmer in his eyes is unmistakable as he shows them a highlight reel of you absolutely cooking defenders. and when you spot him watching from the sidelines during your game? he’ll give you the laziest little wave, like he’s totally unbothered, but the way his lips twitch ever so slightly when you look his way? yeah, he’s so proud.

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

isagi is basically your personal hype man. he knows all your stats by heart – goals, assists, minutes played – and he’s ready to recite them at a moment’s notice. before your match, he’s pacing by the tunnel, hyping you up like a coach. “you’ve got this. you’ve been nailing your shots in practice. just play your game, baby.” and when you score? oh, he loses it. he’s standing, hands in his hair, eyes wide with disbelief like he just watched you score the winning world cup goal. “holy crap, that was insane!” he’s clapping so hard his palms are probably red. post-game, he hugs you so tight you can barely breathe, grinning like a fool. “i’m so proud of you. like, ridiculously proud.”

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

bachira is a menace on the sidelines. he’s doing little soccer tricks with a stray ball while you play, calling out your name every chance he gets. “go get ‘em, baby! woooo!” when you nutmeg an opponent, he full-on sprints down the sideline like a deranged golden retriever, yelling, “MEGURU’S GIRL, MEGURU’S GIRL!!!” when you win, he storms the field, despite the officials yelling at him to stay back. he picks you up and spins you around, planting kisses all over your face. “you were sooo cool! did you see yourself? wait, of course you did, you were right there! but still!! you were SO COOL.” and yes, he absolutely posts 30 blurry photos of you with captions like, “my goat gf 🐐💖.”

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐨

reo buys box seats just so he can get a better view of you. he’s wearing designer sunglasses even though he’s indoors, and he sips his expensive sparkling water all casually, acting totally chill. but the second you make a play, he drops the rich guy act. suddenly, he’s standing, clapping loudly and shouting, “YES, BABY! THAT’S MY GIRL!” he’s the type to bring an entire bouquet of roses to your post-game interview and place them dramatically in your arms with a grin. “for the most talented player on the field.” and if the cameras catch it? good. he wants the world to see how proud he is of you.

𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨

nagi might seem lazy about everything else in life, but when it comes to your games? he’s fully locked in. he shows up wearing your jersey, hair still messy from a nap, but his eyes are glued to you the entire time. he may not be the loudest cheerer, but his voice is the one you hear the most clearly. every time you make a play, he leans forward and mumbles, “so cool…” under his breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. when you win, he’s the first one to greet you, still half-sleepy but grinning ear to ear. he loops his arms around your waist and leans into you like he’s about to fall asleep. “mmm… you’re my mvp. carry me home?” (bro’s gonna break your back)

𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨

karasu cannot shut up about you. he’s straight-up posting memes like, “my gf could outplay your entire team.” at your game, he’s the guy standing by the railing with his arms spread wide like, “did you guys see that?!?!” if you score, he’s turning to random strangers like, “that’s my girl. mine. you see that? yeah, i go home to her.” when you walk off the field, he greets you with the cockiest grin. “pfft. that was light work for you. wasn’t even a challenge.” but then he softens, brushing some hair out of your face. “seriously, though… you were unreal out there. my little soccer star.”

𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐚

otoya is leaning against the stadium railing like a walking thirst trap, winking at you every time your eyes meet. “hey, number ten, you single?” he calls out dramatically, earning glares from nearby fans. when you land a perfect free kick, he lets out an exaggerated, impressed whistle. “damn, babe. you always this sexy when you destroy your opponents?” post-game, he slinks over with that flirty grin, resting his arm around your shoulders. “you were so hot out there. i think i need a private post-game interview with you. maybe in my hotel room?”

𝐲𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐮

yukimiya is all soft smiles and heart eyes. he watches you like you hung the moon, his hands clasped together as if he’s witnessing a miracle. when you score, he exhales softly, eyes filled with admiration. he’s not the type to shout, but you can feel the warmth in his applause. post-game, he greets you with open arms, pressing the softest kiss to your temple. “you were incredible,” he murmurs, voice full of awe. he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes glimmering with so much pride it makes your chest ache.

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softidiotsposts · 14 days ago

Text

Whatever You Want, Whatever You Need

distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? well, what about hate?

{Thank you to the lovely request here for the idea, I hope I did it justice! I actually really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you all enjoy reading it too.}

Warnings: A SITUATIONSHIP!!! suggestive/light smut (build up), angst, fluff, classic enemies to lovers with a side of hating each other, masc!R (dw still wlw), soccer used // word count: 8.1k

masterlist

The universe of professional sport is riddled in great rivalries that are remembered for decades.

Ferrari and Mercedes in F1, the US and Australia in the swimming world, the Williams sisters in Tennis and of course, the El Clásico- Real Madrid V Barcelona, the capital city's best team V Catalonia's pride and joy. Two Spanish football's giants going head to head.

Yet rivalries in sport aren't built on hate, they are created through the urge to beat someone who you think is equal or better. Someone who you know dedicates themselves as much as you.

You have no respect for Barcelona's captain and apparent La Reina of modern football, Alexia Putellas. So maybe you prove rivalry can be born of hate?

Alexia has ground your gears since the moment you had heard of her through Tobin and Christen years ago-

"She's fantastic, making waves in Spain y'know?" Tobin's casual comment sparked a fire under you because who was Alexia and why the fuck was she so special all of sudden?

The media, who had been focused on you for the better part of 5 years, suddenly switched gears. You were old news, apparently. Just some wishy-washy American that's still playing in a closed league with only a handful of good performances, they didn't care if you broke record after record (mostly your own) because all you could do is win the same league title year after year.

The only attention that you actually got was when you'd don a US jersey, of course a great honor that you would never take for granted but... it hurt a little. Hurt that people could care less about you unless it was an international break.

But even that came to a close with the Spanish controversy and ultimate World Cup win. A title that you wanted to win again but couldn't even scratch, not after a penalty shootout against Sweden that left you with a shattered heart and a weak feeling in the knees.

You were washed and used, not special and talented anymore.

Alexia was the new, shiny player with trophies to prove it, where were yours? You could only get second place after second place. And Barcelona was now the best club in Europe after winning back to back Champions Leagues.

You hated it, the US was the place for women's soccer for so long- it was the place where the best of the best played and it was the gateway to professionalism but now, the European way dominates.

It was no longer- Go to the US for college so that you can get scouted. Instead it's to go to a European academy, they'll make a player of you.

That's why you decide that if Alexia wanted to ruin all the effort you'd put in to make your career special, then you'd beat her- time and time again if you must. To prove what? You're not really sure, maybe to say that you haven't lost it.

"Hey, Barry?" You call your agent out of the blue on a Wednesday afternoon practically mid-season, knowing that your contract still has another 2 years on it but you could care less.

"Y/N? What's up?" Barry is a nice guy, a family friend you've known practically your whole life. He's guided you through your career so far- landing you brand deals with brands and promotional opportunities.

He continues, "Listen, if it's about the lack of brand-"

"No, it's not about the deals."

Your brand deals have been slowly dwindling as your career has been but to be honest, you could care less about whether or not a cereal brand that you never ate sponsored you.

"Okay... So... What is it?" Barry's voice is a murmur through the phone and you've learned throughout the years that it only happens when he thinks you have bad news.

"I want to move club," Your tone is serious and not as playful as it normally is when you call him. You hear Barry sigh before he responds.

"There's 2 years on your current contract and you know that Gotham doesn't want to sell you."

Barry is right. Gotham has been doing practically everything in their power to keep you at the club, even raising your salary significantly each contract and you know it's only because you're their top goal scorer.

"I know but you'll get them to mutually terminate, right?" You ask, even though it's not a question and more like a request.

"I don't know, Y/N. They are paying a lot for you to stay and you've won the league comfortably for a few years haven't you?"

You have but that's not the point. You want to beat Alexia and for that you need to play against her, not just at an international level.

"Plus, where do you even want to play? Gotham is winning the league, y'know? There is not a better te-"

You cut him off, "Spain, get me to Spain. Please Barry?"

You know that works on him, it always has and probably always will. Barry knows it's rare for you to actually plead for something- Let alone something related to soccer.

"Spain?" Barry's tone indicates shock and you're not surprised- You have never wanted to play abroad before, you like the comforts of home far too much for that.

"Yes, get me a contract with Real Madrid."

Your words are as final as they can be, there is absolutely nothing else you want.

Barry worked his magic and suddenly you were 'mutually' parting ways with Gotham after 5 long years with them. It was a shock and the media blew up over night, rumors that you were retiring floated about along with different clubs that you might be signing for.

Lyon. Chelsea. Arsenal. Bayern. Wolfsburg and of course Barcelona- People whispering about the potential threat you'd pose with Bonmati and Putellas behind you. Little did they know, you hated the blue and red of the club and hated their Queen.

Your medical with Madrid became public knowledge a few days after it occurred leaving the rumors of Barcelona in the dust. You were confirmed a madridista then and there before you could even sign the contract.

"You did WHAT?" Tobin's voice rang through the phone, very loud and very clear.

You grit your teeth, you should have probably mentioned this earlier- Much sooner, maybe before your move was public knowledge?

"Listen... Tobin..." You start sheepishly, knowing what was coming.

"You ended your contract? AND moved all the way to SPAIN? Spain which is-"

You sigh, "You know why."

Tobin knew, Christen knew and probably the whole national team knew of your strong opinions on a certain Spaniard.

Actually, Christen and Tobin were the first people you'd go to for anything. Advice, soccer or not soccer related, to rant, to just talk to. They are kind of like you bonus parents, a pair that you know you can rely on so they knew the ins and outs of your problems with La Reina.

"Still, you should have given us a warning," It's Christen, clearly calmer than Tobin is- Voice soft and comforting, as it always has been or at least compared to Tobin's.

You'd always liked Christen and maybe that's why you were over the moon when Tobin told you she liked her. Probably also the reason why you added a little pressure of your own when Tobin hesitated asking her out.

"Okay, no need to gang up on me now, guys," You chuckle, trying to somewhat diffuse the situation and you hear a stifled laugh in the background. Clearly Tobin is trying to not seem amused.

"I'm serious," Christen clearly is and a voice agrees from behind her- Tobin- Sounding a little less serious and more amused now.

"Okay, I'm sorry... but I have to go now."

You balance the phone on top of a cardboard box that you've already taped shut. The process of your move is in full swing now.

"I gotta go now, love you."

You hear a shouted "Love you too" from Tobin and a normal one from Christen before the phone is disconnected and you're left alone again.

Different piles of clothes wait to be sorted, although they are mostly all the same- Training gear that you won't need anymore, you figure that if you leave it, Barry will return it to the club. Other stray things also wait, books and various knick knacks that will have a new home in Madrid.

You run a hand through your short hair and sigh. You should probably continue to pack?

Madrid is different to Harrison- The city is overflowing with its culture, eras practically stand next to one another. Buildings combining decades at a time with some looking as though they were sculpted by hand while others looked as though they were built in a factory.

Madrid is grand in the best ways and you decide that this is exactly where you want to be.

The apartment that you managed to secure on the fly is modest by comparison with some. It's a two bedroom with one of them being an office and the kitchen is modern with a touch of homeliness that reminds you of home. The view overlooks some of the city and you fall in love with the fading sky. Pink mixes with orange and red to create a lovely mess, one that you absolutely adore.

El Clásico is almost synonymous with the greats. CR7. R9. Messi. Xavi. Iniesta. You could go on for what seems like ever but the point is that El Clásico is an event, the streets close and people hold their breath until their team scores. The fans don their best and shout the loudest they can, it's an atmosphere anyone would die for. You included.

Your first Clásico is two months after your signing. It's a regular league match except it's not. This is your first chance to prove yourself, in front of the supports and in front of La Reina.

Alexia is not untouchable, no one is and you were going to prove that today. For you, Barcelona's dominance ended today because Real was ready to play for keeps.

You've seen her before, in person and of course on TV but you've never spoken. You matter how many times you finished second behind her in the Ballon D'or (twice) and the few times you've both been selected for best eleven, you haven't dared to speak with her.

Maybe the hate is unwarranted? Alexia hasn't harmed you physically or even said anything about you but it's just her. What is so damn special about her? The media like to pit the two of you against each other in their articles: La Reina and the unlucky, Alexia wins second Ballon D'or, beating rival L/N.

You're so sick of it. That's why you go all out, no mercy, no matter how many points behind you're in the table, even if the game is pointless because it won't change anything.

You press high, practically step on Maria León's toes and each time you get the ball you rush ahead trying your best to break down Barcelona's steel wall defense. It's not easy. You sweat buckets full and practically gasp for air but the first half ends without a goal- for either side.

To Madrid, that's a success. They've managed to keep Barcelona at bay for 45 minutes and possession doesn't look to be Barca dominant either. To you, it's utter failure. Alexia guides Barcelona like a battle fleet, perfect and precise. You, however, are holding on to the edge of a cliff with teammates who you don't know well enough- All chances seem to dissipate the second you pass because Barcelona uses your miscommunications to their advantage.

You listen to the coach but nothing really goes on, you're thinking of Alexia... Weirdly, about how Barcelona seems to fit her as if she was made for the club. Tailor made. It's not something you normally think of and it makes you shiver even though you're boiling hot with various emotions whirling around inside of you.

The second half begins with a goal. A goal for you, the crowd cheers and you revel in it, dropping to your knees with your hands in fists before your teammates slide into you. You celebrate that goal as if it were a Champions League final- It makes you feel as though you're on top of the world, you want to scream from the tallest mountain that you've taken the first steps.

An equalizer comes twenty minutes later in added time, it's the third minute and you're counting down the seconds until full-time. You pray that you don't lose possession but the opposite happens, Alexia lands a perfect tackle in midfield (something you'd see on the highlight reels) and shoots right then and there. She's so close to the half way line that you feel as though she won't make it, you're practically sure of it but instead Misa scrambles back (or tries to) and the ball bounces in the back of the net.

You feel a pain in your chest, it's heartbreak in the face of defeat.

The match ends in a draw, a win in the eyes of the Madrid veterans but an ugly loss in yours. The focus slipped for a millisecond and Alexia took that opportunity without a second though, one gap and the rat had slipped in.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you shake hands with players wearing the blaugrana colors. It's sportsmanship at it's finest and in that moment you decide that losing to Barcelona is the worst, they act humble in their glory and it makes your blood boil.

You get to Alexia at the end. La Reina extends her arm out to shake your hand and you gives a firm handshake, she's shorter than you by quite a bit and you've never noticed up to that point. The handshake is firm and warmer than you'd like it to be.

"You play well," It's a compliment from Alexia, said in a Spanish accent that tickles your ears oddly.

You hum then mumble a barely audible, "You too."

You don't know whether you mean it. Sure, you recognize that Alexia is top of the top but saying it to her face makes your skin claw with something unnamable.

The next time you run into the proclaimed Queen of football is at an event. A gala of sorts, you could say, for a bunch of different athletes from all other the world of sport. You recognize some of them, mostly the ones from team USA and of course, Alexia Putellas.

She's wearing a gorgeous gown, black with a rather large slit in the back of it. It shows off the various tattoos that she has but also the slight muscle definition on her back, a clear sign of the Barcelona training plan working. The dress is matched with heels with that classic red bottom that make her clearly taller, almost so that she matches your height but your own shoes (albeit not heels) make you ever so slightly taller as well.

You swallow thickly for some reason. You chalk it up to the fact that you're wearing a three piece suit in all black in the middle of Spain, even if it is in the evening and the fact that the glass of whisky that you're holding is your third of the night.

Unfortunately... Or maybe fortunately, Alexia spots you amongst the crowd. You're difficult to miss, with an excellently tailored suit that highlights your lean muscle in the correct way and height that makes you look less like a footballer and more like a basketball player.

She immediately walks over to you and you regret agreeing to go to this thing in the first place. Alexia looks dangerously sexy tonight and you feel the anger fading very quickly- You've always thought that she was hot in a sense, you've seen her in enough dresses in similar events to know this but were sane enough not to act on desperate thoughts. Not with Alexia of all people.

Tonight, though, you feel insane, like a hound let loose.

You lick your lips as she walks to you and bite the inside of your cheeks when she finally reaches you. You don't know what you want, whether you want to dance far too close with her or run away completely.

"Y/N, right? From Real Madrid." It's a question that doesn't seem to need an answer because you know that Alexia remembers you as vividly as you remember her. You can still feel the weight of her small palm in yours after the match from a week ago, it hasn't left and you're afraid that it won't.

"Yeah, Alexia Putellas, right?" You smirk because you clearly know that it's Alexia you're talking to- The same Alexia that made you move to Madrid and the same one that you want to crush.

But tonight is different, hate is half gone and turned into something that sits in the bottom of your stomach, something that makes you nauseous with lust.

She nudges your shoulder with her free hand and you catch it with your own slightly larger free hand. It makes you both pause and stare at each other, it's all hot and your eyes are glazed over with an unspoken desire.

Hate is a strong emotion, one that you've always allocated to Alexia because she has played on your nerves as if they were strings. Dancing along with trophies and words of excellence while you watched from the crowd. It was the Alexia show and you're keen to change that- A change that is being rapidly evoked, the draw last week proving that a new era is on the horizon.

"Maybe..."

Her answer is as sly as her eyes and want pools in your gut.

"Well... I'm only interested in dancing with La Reina."

Alexia raises her eyebrows before putting her drink down on a table full of half empty glass, clearly a dumping ground for unwanted glasses of alcohol. Then she does something you don't expect, she takes your whisky and places it on the same table and then tugs you on to a dance floor full of random people. Athletes and media, just dancing to electronic music.

You grin, alcohol coursing through your veins when Alexia takes your hands to place them on her hips. Your long fingers fan out over the satin of her dress and you press yourself impossibly close to her, hearing a surprised gasp when you do so.

"So... it's La Reina?" You laugh slowly into Alexia's ear and you feel her hands trail up from the small of your back to your shoulders.

You feel her chuckle and then sway her hips in your hands. The two of you are ridiculously close, so close that you can feel her underwear through the satin. It doesn't look innocent, it doesn't look like two players who oppose each other in almost everything they do.

Alexia leans into you and her breath touches the shell of your ear, it makes a jolt bolt down your spine.

"My hotel isn't far away."

It's a statement turned into a question, will you or won't you follow through? Alexia is challenging you into it. You swallow heavily, your mind is fuzzy and you know you shouldn't but you nod anyway.

Everything else is a blur until you get to the suite. It's nice and classy, something you expect from Alexia and the moment the door clicks shut, she presses you against it. Even though you're taller, Alexia has a certain passion that dominates but you never back down easily.

So you grab her wrists and press her against the wall to your right, it's aggressive and you intend it that way. You want her to know.

She gasps but smirks then thrashes her wrists against your grip testing your strength and when they don't budge from their place against the wall, Alexia groans. It's slow and utterly sexual and makes you want to grind against her.

"You're such a fucking tease," You groan out and then guide your tongue across her neck, lapping like a wild cat and Alexia lets out airy moans with each lick.

You love the way she grinds into your front and you live for this- Power, control and most of all, that it's Alexia here and not someone else.

"You're the tease, not me," She rebuttals and the sentence is punctuated with a loud moan as you bite down on her neck.

"Don't- don't... leave.. anything," Alexia gasps out and you're not stupid enough not to listen to her.

Instead of continuing your assault on Alexia's neck, you allow one of your hands to slip under her dress and onto the inside of her thigh. It's unbelievably hot and Alexia leans into your touch when you give it. Your fingers trace the ins of her thighs and she holds onto your shoulders with an iron grip.

"Joder...Fuck... Please?" Alexia practically begs and you take it as a personal victory.

"Please? Please what? Please stop?" You tease and try to retreat your hand.

Alexia yelps, "No!"

"No... Fuck me, please?"

You moan and peer down at her. God, what a beautiful mess she looks with a flushed face and dress half way up her stomach.

"Well... If the Queen says so."

The next morning a sense of dread filled you. Fucking Alexia was a mistake, a major mistake, a mistake that felt really good but a mistake nonetheless.

You turn to see the other side of the bed empty and you scoff because of course Alexia is a coward. Yet on the clearly slept on pillow lays a sheet of paper with the hotel branding on it, the script is rushed and you can barely make out the words because the spelling is off. The number though, is clear, in bold and underlined.

Alexia wants you to text her... Or at least, text that number.

You sigh deeply, then collapse back into your back. There is no way out when she keeps tempting you deeper into the lion’s den, is there?

The one time stand turns into another one and then another and another before you've lost count of how many times you've slept with Alexia. After each match against each other, you somehow end up in bed at a random hotel room- Sweaty and gasping for air.

You don't know what you're doing but you know it's not wise in any sense of the word. Not wise to be sleeping with the enemy and not wise to be sleeping with someone that you're striving to beat.

It's after another match that you end up in this situation, this time it's an international friendly and not a league match but nevertheless, Alexia and you fall into bed without issue. You fuck and then typically go to sleep but this time you can't, you can't sleep while Alexia's breathing is even on the other side.

So you do what you know you shouldn't, you turn to look at her. The glow of the moon highlights her face, leaving a ghost touch on her face. Her features are relaxed and it makes her look impossibly young.

You reach out with a boney finger and trace down the bridge of her nose and your breathing, as well as your movements, are stilted when Alexia stirs. You don't know why but it feels like you're committing a crime, as if you'd be caught red handed if Alexia wakes up.

But you continue anyway, your pointer finger traces the high of her cheeks and how relaxed her brows are. You commit it to memory, the feeling of soft skin under your callused finger tip.

You decide that at that moment, if you were a painter, you'd paint her. The soft curve of her nose and those sharp cheekbones and of course, those honey-brown eyes that you look with with as much seriousness as they do playfulness in moments.

It's hard to resist Alexia and you never do- Not when you ask with the lightest of voices and definitely not when she demands, voice full of what you think is captaincy.

Then days blend into weeks and weeks blend into a month. A long month without Alexia, you haven't played against the Barcelona captain for a month and you haven't texted either.

You glance at your phone that lays on the coffee table from the comfort of the sofa. It feels... Personal, if you text anything other than the location of a hotel room or an address or a come over.

Too personal.

This month has been a harsh reminder that you're nothing more than two opposing players that occasionally take their anger and frustrations out on each other. You're nothing to Alexia and she needs to be the same to you.

The next time you see Alexia is at an awards event and a sense of nervousness fills you. It's oddly similar to how this entire thing started, you in a suit- this time white instead of black- and her in a dress.

This time it is red, daring. It makes it hard to resist the urge to touch her, let alone talk to her so you make sure you're separated by a crowd at all times. You've gotten to close before and have been burned, you're not doing it this time.

You're nursing a drink in a corner, you truly don't even want to be here if you're honest. It all feels too weird... Seeing Alexia again after a month of radio silence. It's also reminded you that she is nothing but someone you have to beat.

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you flitch before whipping around to see Alexia, a sly smile on her face that makes your heart ache and insides turn. Of course, she looks impossibly beautiful tonight and your brain is whirling with excuses to leave before you fall in this trap again.

"Long time no see," Alexia leans forwards to murmur into your ear and you feel your resolve melting the second her breath reaches your ear.

Her body is half pressed against yours and you know the feeling so well that it's become second nature to press back against her. You resist as best as you can, turning your head away from her and drinking bitter alcohol instead.

You feel just as bitter as the alcohol tastes.

Alexia, of course, notices. You've learned that she's rather perceptive when she wants to be and it makes this ten times harder.

"What's wrong, rival?" It's playful and all without bite but you bite the inside of your cheek to resist snapping back.

"Nothing, sorry, gotta go, later," You brush her hand off your shoulder and storm out.

Out of the room and out the event altogether, thankful it was ending soon so your presence wouldn't be missed. You hail a taxi and gnaw at your nails in the back of the car as you get driven to the hotel, anxiety passes over you in fast waves. There is no time to breathe in between, let alone reflect.

Once you make it to the hotel, you've bitten through a cuticle and blood is running down your palm onto your wrist where it meets the cuff of your suit. The blood dyes it red and it looks like Alexia's dress, making your memory float back to her- It hurts to deny her of anything but it hurts just as much to lay awake while she sleeps peacefully after your escapades.

You're lost and there is only one person- well, two- that can help you find your footing.

"Hello?" A groggy voice comes through the muffled speaker of your phone.

"Help me, Tobin?" You're not sobbing, hell, you're not even crying but it comes out in a gut wrenching whisper. Your voice hoarse with unshed tears.

You hear a series of mumbles, clearly Christen, then bed sheets rustle before Tobin is back on the line.

"Are you hurt? Where are you?" A series of rapid questions are fired at you with a worried voice.

"No-no, I'm fine, physically at least, and I'm in Bilbao."

"What- Why?" Tobin's voice is still panicked, clear worry running through it.

"Awards," You say, all too sullen for it to sound good.

Tobin finally calms down and you can hear it when she asks, "What's wrong, baby?"

You resist the urge to cry or maybe laugh at the question. Alexia floods back into your mind like a tsunami, bulldozing everything else.

"I've... Messed up, badly, Tobin."

"What do you mean?" Tobin's voice is small compared to your heavy breathing and you have to strain your ears to hear her through the phone.

The hotel room is dark, not a single light is on and the blinds are drawn to create a pitch black room. It feels cold and it makes the loneliness more apparent, even though Tobin is on the phone, you feel so so alone- Spain is so far away from the comforts of home and you feel the effect of the rash decision now.

"I've... Slept with someone-"

"You're breaking down over this?" There is a laugh at the end of the question and you crack a little smile before fading back to a deep frown.

"Someone I shouldn't have."

"Oh."

It's small, so you know it's Christen and not Tobin. Then a sudden feeling of embarrassment fills your gut, you shouldn't have said it. Actually, you shouldn't have said anything at all. Should have never called in the first place.

"Who?" You're back to Tobin and hear a heated whisper that belongs to Christen, most likely scolding Tobin for even asking.

"Can't- can't say," Your voice comes out oddly small, like it never has before- or at least never when you're speaking to them.

"Why?"

Tobin presses and it feels as though she's digging her nails into a freshly carved wound. Alexia has been an outlet as much as she's been a support in a country you had no clue about. She would take you out- well, you'd pay- but she'd pick the place, no matter if it were Madrid or Barcelona. Alexia knew all the good spots like the back of her hand. Whether it were ice cream or coffee, there was always a place.

So maybe... Just maybe, she'd become more of a friend than you'd want her to be. A friend that let you fuck your anger out on her just as she would on you- An outlet physically as well as emotionally.

Unhealthy, is probably the correct word.

You're about to answer Tobin with a lie, something you don't normally do but maybe Spain has changed you? You never used to be so meek after all. But then, another call flashes on the screen, Alexia- or Putellas as she is on your phone, there is no picture to accompany it because why would there be?

"Gotta go," You snap and press the green button to pick up the call.

"You ran away from me," It's an accusation that fits the crime. You had run away and Alexia is calling you out on it right now.

You swallow, "No, I just left."

Is it a denial? Probably. It sure sounds like one, your voice smaller than more and tone sadder than ever.

"Where are you?"

The question is fast, like it always is with Alexia. Her life is fast, like a car without brakes. She cruises along, going a 100 miles an hour with everything- Football, training, sex... There probably isn't a single thing that is not done fast and with efficiency.

"Well, my hotel."

"Send me the location."

It's not really a question because Alexia is sure of the answer and she's right because all the resolve you had earlier is somehow gone. You want her here, now and you could care less about how shitty you'll feel later when she's asleep and you're not.

So, instead of hanging up, you send the hotel and room number then call the reception to let her know she's alright to come up.

It's crazy what you're doing. Anyone would tell you that, Tobin, Christen- Hell, even the people who actually know Alexia, people you play with daily would tell you this is a shitty idea.

The shitty idea ends with Alexia on your lap, grinding into you while you kiss on the bed. It's fast, as always and you try to slow her but she's relentless and you decide to just flip the two of you.

You take Alexia by the waist and flip her onto her back so you're suddenly on top of her and this suits you much better. Especially when Alexia smirks and grabs one of your wrists, tugging the hand to her mouth then she separates your middle finger from the rest and closes her mouth around it.

She sucks on the digit, taking the entire length of your long finger a few times before growing bored and adding your pointer to the mix. This sends a hot flush to your stomach and your eyes darken as much as hers do as she traces veins on your hand with her red tongue.

This was about to be a long, long night.

As always, you end up awake. Lying on your back, staring at the unappealing ceiling with thoughts running through your head at the speed of light.

Alexia is next to you, wearing absolutely nothing and you can feel the heat radiating from her- It gives you the urge to shuffle closer to her, wrap your arms around her but you're not given the chance.

"Are you awake?" It's Alexia asking, in a soft sleepy voice and you jolt next to her.

You don't expect it and you're quite shocked that she's awake- She never has been after sleeping with you or at least not that you've realized.

"Yeah..." It's a meek response that has you cringing internally.

Then you hear her shuffle and suddenly she's pressing herself against you, in a gentle embrace that sends flutters into your stomach. Alexia's skin is against yours and it feels like a boiling sensation, in the best way possible, making you hot inside.

"I can't sleep too," Alexia murmurs into your skin and it's so low that you barely catch it.

You take the opportunity to wrap an arm around her shoulders and she doesn't protest, instead you can feel her lean in. Letting you hold her closer than you ever have as your arm is wrapped around her and your face is half buried in her soft hair.

This is different, familiar, close in a way you haven't been yet. You've played against each other, pulled shirts and tackled ankles when you shouldn't have. You've been sleeping together for what feels like forever, whenever you can but this is close, this sharing you're doing in that moment.

Life isn't going at 100 miles an hour right now. You're not in Madrid, Alexia isn't in Barcelona, you're not mortal enemies that are pitted against each other anymore. Instead, you're here and she is too- Really here, in the moment. Not in some distant land dreaming about how to beat you in another match and you aren't doing that either.

It's good, this thing you have, in that moment.

You fall asleep soon after, questions on the tip of your tongue fade into nothingness as dreaming takes over.

You wake up the next morning to an empty, cold bed. Alexia is gone, as she normally is or sometimes as you are, leaving the other alone when they wake up. Usually, you'd feel some sort of resentment or maybe sadness but this time nothing comes, you're sort of content as you lie in bed. Alone.

The Ballon D'or the year your first season with Real Madrid ends is on a Monday in October and you're once again shortlisted in the main competition: The desired golden ball. You know that Alexia is probably shortlisted too and you can already imagine her on stage in a dress that looks beautiful on her, speaking Spanish you don't understand and taking home her third award.

You try not to think about losing for the fifth time as you make your way to Paris, the plane which is thankfully private is stuffy and you wonder briefly whether it's your choice of clothing. You'd opted to wear a suit, dark blue almost black with a sharply cut fit to make your stature pop even more. It's matched with a white starched shirt that is a little itchy and a bowtie in the same navy that looks a little uneven but you'd be in the audience the whole time anyway.

It's raining when you get to the Theatre where the awards are being held and you can't help but see the weather as fitting, after all, this isn't your happiest moment. You're grateful but it's unlikely you'll win, not with Alexia and her teammate, Aitana being shortlisted alongside prominent footballers from other major leagues.

You smile for the cameras, standing alone on the red carpet to get into the event. You hadn't taken anyone with you, Tobin and Christen are all the way in the US and flying them out to only take one of them seems counterproductive. Your parents aren't really in the picture anymore, so they aren't a viable option. Then again you haven't spoken to Alexia since the season had begun in September.

The two of you had seen each other over a couple of free summer weeks but it wasn't anything special. Mostly lazing around at random apartments that you'd rent or hotel rooms and sometimes, when you felt like it, you'd go out decked out in sunglasses and hats to ice cream shops or bars.

It was nice and slow, just like that one night in Bilbao. As if you'd put a pause on everything around the two of you, all the rivalry and seeming hate to just... be.

But ever since the start of the season, you haven't heard anything from Alexia, not even a singular text or dm. You figure that she's cut the breaks and is going faster than the speed of light again, chasing results with a club that she loves. You can't fault her, you're doing the same. Putting the intensity in order to create waves in Liga F for the first time.

The awards start an hour after you arrive, you're sitting in a stiff chair next to a Barcelona player you don't know. She's tatted from what seems like head to toe and the bleach is fading from her hair but you recognize her from some of the matches you've played against the Catalan club.

That must mean that Alexia is close or at least not on the other side of the large hall and you're not sure if you're ready to see her again- See those honey eyes that cut into you without any issues or that grin that disarms you every single time.

"Are you L/N?"

It's the woman next to you, she's speaking in a heavy Spanish accent that is different to Alexia's more practiced one. It's as if she doesn't speak the language often.

"Yes and you are...?" You ask, hoping that the question doesn't come off as rude because you know that she's important, just not actually sure who she is.

You hear a giggle, "Mapi, León- We study you a lot before the Clásicos, Ale insists."

You raise your brows in surprise at the admission. Alexia had been studying you, just like you'd been doing with her for years and a sense of weird... Admiration fills you.

The awards take a similar route as always and you're mostly bored until the women's awards being, with best eleven and then the Ballon D'or- You're sinking into your seat when the different candidates photos are flashed on the screen, yours being an action short in a white Madrid shirt and you recognize it as your debut goal.

There is a hush when the presenter begins to speak, opening the sleek black card to look at the name before leaning to speak into the microphone.

"The 2025 Ballon d'or France football is Y/N L/N."

You let out an audible gasp because you'd expected Alexia to win or maybe Aitana or Hasen but this- You- is unexpected, a shock.

You stand and walk to the stage, heart racing faster than it ever has and you feel unstable on your feet, slightly shaking and you stand in front of the podium with the famous golden ball in front of you.

You lean forwards to speak, something that you hadn't put a single thought into because you'd truly expected to end up as second best.

"I'm extremely thankful to receive this prestigious award," Your voice is a little shaky but you push past it.

"I want to dedicate this to all the people who have helped me get to this point- My coaches at the club who have helped us secure titles this year. Barry, my agent who I have to thank for getting me to this position and of course, I thank my teammates, both club and national, for supporting me in this journey and allowing me the possibility to achieve such an award."

"Thank you all and a good evening."

It feels odd, walking away with an award you've only seen from the sidelines. Something that only the best of the best hold and now you guess that you're one of them too.

The text is short and you read it at the after party held in the theatre,

Outside.

It's Alexia and a sense of dreadful excitement envelops you as you walk outside and see her for the first time that night. She's wearing white and your mouth goes dry when you see her, she's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

The white dress with golden accents that makes her look like an angel sent from the heavens and a grin plastered on her face that lights up the dim alley way you're standing in.

Then a grim reminder sets in. You've heard nothing from her since the beginning of September and you haven't held her since August. You're practically back to square one, nothing but playful fun.

"Congratulations, best player," Alexia smirks and leans forwards to capture your lips in a heated kiss that makes you want to kiss back but you don't.

You push her back gently by the shoulder and look away, towards the ground because you cannot stand the hurt look on her face. Why is she looking at you like that? Like she gets to be angry or sad when she is the one who has been dragging you through the water for a year.

"Don't- Just don't, Alexia," You say it sternly, like there is no room for argument because you don't intend there to be.

"What?" Alexia says, shock apparent in her voice and you're stunned.

Is she joking or being serious?

You wave your hands in the air at nothing in particular and look her in the eye, "I can't do this anymore- This thing."

"I- I... I can't sleep with you anymore, Alexia," It comes out as a whisper when you intend to yell. You're soft and she knows it.

"Why?... why- It's fun and you're fun..."

"I can't! I can't just fuck you everything other time and hold you and feel nothing!" You're yelling when you intend to murmur and it feels like a bad joke- All of this, the award, the weather, Alexia. All of it.

"I- I... I- I just..."

You can't find the right words because there are none. How do you tell Alexia Putellas you're in love with her when you don't actually know her?

It turns out that winning a Ballon D'or isn't that good after all, not as joyful as you'd imagined it would be.

The next time you see Alexia is at a newly renovated Camp Nou in January, at an el clásico that has the people on the edge of their seats. You're neck for neck with Barcelona with a goal each and the clock is ticking, final minutes running out rapidly fast as you dribble the ball up the inside of the pitch.

The Barcelona defense is tight and you know it so you pass it off to Athenea before lapping her, opening the space for her to fill before passing it back. It's a simple move that would have normally not worked but you're in injury time and the fatigue is catching up to everyone.

So your tap in goes into the back of the net somehow and Madrid pulls in front- In all the shock, you just stand there as your teammates crowd you, yelling and screaming praise. It's half a second later that you make history, Madrid wins the first clásico at Barcelona's home stadium in front of a crowd of 96 000.

The rest of the night, you go through the motions- Shock, joy, pride fill you in varying ways but all of those are traded for something else when you see her.

Alexia, with wet hair and a team issue tracksuit standing outside of the away changing room, looking uncharacteristically nervous as she fiddles with the hem of her top. Your graze is hard when you meet her eye, you haven't seen her since October and you'd purposely avoid social media as well because you know she's on there.

So you put your headphones in and try to walk past her but a hand shoots out and grabs your forearm, making you whip around to look at Alexia. Sky blue meets honey brown when you're forced to look at her, all comfort comes flooding in without invitation- You'd been lost ever since you'd walked away from her and here she is now. In front of you with wet hair and Barcelona colors like you never even left.

"Come...Come with me?... Please?" Alexia mumbles and you have to strain your ears to capture the rasp of her voice.

You can feel your resolve breaking by the second. Alexia doesn't sound confident as she normally seems to be, there is no teasing, no bite, no smirk in her voice. So you catch yourself nodding before you can fully compute what has just happened.

The trip to Alexia's is a blur, she drags you through Camp Nou to the parking lot, ignoring your respective teammates' stares by tunneling her vision on the exit. Alexia's car is nice, almost as nice as your BMW you think but you don't say anything- Instead you shove your bag in the back with hers and sit in the passenger seat while she drives.

The drive is silent, the radio is off and all you can hear is your own breathing alongside the murmur of the car engine. The apartment complex is nice and so is the parking garage but you could care less, you drag yourself into the elevator with your duffle on your shoulder and resist the urge to lean into Alexia for a hug.

As soon as the apartment door shuts with a soft click, Alexia drops her bag and turns to you then shoves herself into your arms, making you drop all your things to wrap strong arms around her. You angle from head down to bury your face into her hair, her shampoo is the same as it was and it oddly reminds you of something you haven't felt in forever...Home.

"I-I...I think I love you," Alexia whispers into your jacket and you swear your heart explodes. Bursts into a million pieces from joy.

You toe your shoes off and she does the same then you pick Alexia up without speaking, letting her wrap a pair of strong legs around your waist as you grip onto her back. It feels right, this weird thing you're doing now, feels like home when home is so, so far away.

You find the sofa, lay her down gently before resting on top of her, your feet are hanging off the edge of the shorter side but you don't care. Alexia is here and she's in love with you.

"I'll do whatever you want, whatever you need," You mumble into her neck,

"Because, I think I'm in love with you too."

The world's greatest rivalries aren't born of hate, maybe you just had to learn that the hard way?

#woso x reader #barca femeni #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

Note

So did jock!yuji ask weird girl!reader to wear his jersey the first time, or did she just pull up in it as a surprise...

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #3. team jersey.

about. the all star jock asks his freaky girlfriend to start wearing his jersey to games. it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? since she’s always asking to live in his skin and all ! ( 2K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, make outs. brief mentions of self consciousness, reader wants to live in yuuji’s skin n he accepts it, supportive jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.

“so, i’ve been thinkin’,”

from your place at your desk, you spin around in your chair to face yuuji, your boyfriend, with a curious smile. thinking things through isn’t exactly yuuji itadori’s forte — he’s one for jumping into things headfirst and doing whatever feels right in the moment. he’s always been like that, aside from two major occasions.

the first time he’d asked you out and the time he’d asked you to be his girlfriend.

those were two decisions he’d thought through extensively.

“thinking, huh?” you muse out loud, standing up to stretch your limbs. you’ve been staring at your laptop for what seems like millennia to finish a science paper for your biology class, and yuuji is supposed to be studying for one of his econ exams coming up but you decide that you need a break…and a kiss from your boyfriend at that. “what about?”

he’s already waiting for you with open arms on your bed by the time you make your way over to him — it’s a silly sight, the view of your big, strong, athletic boyfriend nestled amongst your mountain of plushies from obscure animanga series and marvel marvel movies. but it fills you with joy to have yuuji there, amongst all of the other things you love. accepting them with ease.

“‘bout you,” yuuji mumbles through a pout, waiting impatiently for a kiss as you snuggle into his muscular arms and rest your head on his plush chest.

reaching up, you rap your knuckles against his skull — brushing tufts of soft baby pink hair. “you’re corny. you should have been thinking about your exams.”

“mmyeah, but i got bored, and you’re too pretty to not be on my mind twenty-four-seven.” comes the jock’s sassy reply as he decides he no longer wants to wait, swooping down to steal a kiss from your precious lips. yuuji gently grasps your chin between a thumb and forefinger to coax more of a kiss out of you, his tongue affectionately rolling over yours while you squirm and mewl in his hold. you’re flustered, and embarrassed, and he really couldn’t care less. he likes having you like this underneath him.

when he finally lets you come up for air, itadori’s calloused thumb swipes under the swell of your bottom lip to wipe away the traces of wetness he’s left there and grind, slow and sexy, when you try to hide your face in your sleeves. “so as i was saying,” he mumbles lowly, causing your body to break out in a set of yuuji-induced shivers. “i was thinking about you.”

“yeah?” you whisper meekly, taking a peek up at his handsome face and honey brown eyes that make you feel all gooey and warm at the centre, where your heart is. like a marshmallow.

yuuji nods, tugging you into his side again, stopping you from rolling away out of shyness. “mhm,” he purrs. “been thinking about you coming to one of my games in my jersey,” he trails off, this time turning into the shy one as he casts his gaze aside. “if you’d want to.”

you’ve seen yuuji’s jerseys — the ones that come with the territory of being on your university’s soccer team. they look good on him, always, just about stretching over the firm muscle of his arms and chest. you know that if you were to wear the soft, cotton material — you’d surely drown in it. swamped by the cosy, fresh scent of your boyfriend and wrapped up in all of his love for you.

rolling over so that you’re the one caging yuuji in this time, you bite down on your kiss swollen lips hesitantly. “is that a requirement of all athlete girlfriends then?”

“n-no! i just…” itadori coughs to clear his throat, realising that it’s not so fun being in the receiving end of such teasing. his hand on your waist traverses upwards, splaying out against the curve of your spine. “i want — i would like to see you in my clothes at my games. i dunno, show you off a little? with my name across your back, it’s like, people will know i belong to you and you belong to me? if that makes sense…”

“belong to each other, huh?” you walk your fingers up his chest, drawing a circle over the place where his big heart is supposed to be. “we’re not objects, yuuji. you’re not an object to me.”

the tone of the conversation shifts as itadori sits up, causing you to shuffle back onto your knees — his hazel brown eyes sweep your face, reminding you of an amber with the way they catch the light. “i-i know that. of course not,” yuuji whispers delicately, as though not to hurt you. “you’re not an object to me either. you’re everything to me. i just think…it would make me feel good? if you wore something of mine? like, just knowing you have it. i dunno — it’s stupid.”

it’s almost biological, a genetically programmed reaction — the way you reach out instantly to comfort your boyfriend. your hand finds his amongst the cotton peaks and streets formed in your bed sheets, giving it a firm squeeze. yuuji offers you a half hearted smile in response.

“you don’t have to —“

“ — i don’t know if i’d look good in it. your jersey,” you breathe out before your boyfriend can finish his sentence. both of you pause, itadori doesn’t push, giving you the space and time to express yourself. “i want to wear it. i just, i know i’m not like the other teammates’ partners. i’m not…peppy and enthusiastic like them a-and i don’t know if your jersey would even suit me…”

the hand that you’re holding reaches up to cup your chin once more and your gaze leers over to yuuji, who only chuckles fondly in response. “of course you’re not like the other partners. you’re special, and you’re mine. i don’t need you to be anything else but the way that you are, okay? i love you.” yuuji has always been direct and worn his heart on his sleeves with his words already formed on the tip of his tongue. some might think he’s dumb, especially for a jock, but he’s the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

you know now, what he means when he says he’s the luckiest guy in the world, for being with you.

you feel the exact same way as he does.

“i love you back,” you blurt, making yuuji beam at you warmly and kiss your nose. “i’ll wear it.” you tug on the fabric, feeling the fleeciness beneath your fingertips along with the warmth of yuuji’s body. “are you sure you won’t miss it?” you explore the material further as it stays wrapped around his bulky frame until you brush over the plasticky vinyl that forms the letters of his name and the number one on the back of the jersey.

i-t-a-d-o-r-i

your itadori.

why wouldn’t you want to show everyone that he’s yours just as much as you are his.

“i’ve got plenty back at my dorm, coach satoru made sure to splurge in that aspect, besides if i give it to you now… when i get it back, it’ll smell like you!” yuuji pulls back from you ever so slightly, and rolls his eyes at your pout when he does so. “then i’ll just keep changing them out,” it only takes you a second to realise that he’s stripping his jersey off, and your eyes greedily shoot to the small, exposed slit of his tummy as he does so. “perv.” comes his teasing voice once his head pops through the other end — salmon pink hair mussed and ruffled out of place.

your pout deepens. “i am not a perv!”

“mhm, yeah. sure you aren’t. now c’mere,” itadori manhandles you into straddling his lap — your knees sinking into the comforter on your bed and your hands hovering above his broad shoulders, hesitant to touch the pure muscle that bursts from the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. “i don’t believe for a second that you don’t get off on this,” he goes on to mock you, smirking up at you despite how you glare at him. “arms up, beautiful.”

through the haze of your mind (deployed by a very flirty yuuji itadori) you’re able to follow his command — shakily raising both arms above your head and allowing your boyfriend to pull his team jersey over it. “who’s more of a perv now? you’re giving me your dirty clothes to wear.” is your weak argument, a defence mechanism to protect yourself from getting too flustered.

it doesn’t work, however, yuuji has mastered the art of making you nervous.

the material of his team jersey swamps you, it’s almost like you’re drowning in an ocean of yuuji’s scent as it wraps around you, keeping you safe and secure.

“it’s not dirty, i just put it on today!” he says petulantly. “if you’re gonna be like that, then give it back.”

“n-no!” you squeak, tucking your nose under the collar with hooded eyes. it smells like yuuji, smells like home. “i like it. it’s like i’m wearing you.”

“the next best thing after my skin, right?” he makes reference to your constant comments about living inside his skin, wanting to be closer to yuuji than humanly possible. others find it weird, but to the jock, it’s endearing. even if it means being swatted in the chest for joking about your unusual displays of affection. “c’mon! i’m jokin’, i’m jokin’!” yuuji laughs between each smack of your palm against his peck. eventually he falls back into the sheets, this time taking you with him so that you’re snuggled on his chest once more. “so…you’re coming to the game this friday? in my jersey?” he asks tentatively after you’ve both calmed down.

nodding, you curl into the pink-haired jock further, as if trying to fuse with him. “where do you want me to sit?”

“not with the others, i know they’re a little rowdier than you’d like. you could try coach, but he likes to pester you.” your boyfriend muses wistfully. everything is warm and comfortable — the steady beat of his heart beneath your head, the hand that he lazily drags up and down your spine, the heat of his jersey and his body under yours. you could sleep right now — even if you do have to study.

a quiet yawn escapes your lips and you wriggle further into the oversized jersey, lulled into a slumber by the presence and scent of your perfect jock boyfriend. “will professor geto be there?”

yuuji shrugs, squeezing you close to help you drift off. “to oogle satoru, probably.”

“then i’ll sit with him, and we can oogle our boys together.”

“awwh, baby, you wanna oogle little old me?” he coos in response, his lips finding the crown of your head.

something about his sugary tone makes you shudder in yuuji’s hold. you’ll never get over how much he teases you, how much you loves you but it makes you giddy to know that he’s yours. and that he wants you to wear his jersey, so he can already the news to the whole world.

or what feels like the whole world.

“i do yuuji, i want to see you play,” you mumble through your last moments of consciousness — gripping onto your boyfriend as though he might disappear. “i want to be in the crowd so when you look up, you see me there, dressed in your jersey, cheering you on.”

for a moment, yuuji is quiet — a thousand ways to tell you how much he loves you rushing to the forefront of his mind…but then he notices the evening out of your breath and the way your pretty lashes flutter against the centre of his chest. the jock decides it’s better to let you rest, he can always smother you with his love when you wake up.

but for now, yuuji itadori will spend his time marvelling the way you look sleeping with the letters of his name printed in bold letters across your back.

#⋆｡°✩ — jock bf!yuuji #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #itadori x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues

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mj0702 · 3 months ago

Text

What could've been

So this is a small one shot about BB not getting injured and how I imagined it would've gone... I hope you enjoy it and if you have any questions feel free to ask me anytime – it might take me a day or two to reply but please feel free to send in your asks

Lucy knew you would be the greatest player that ever set a foot on the pitch. She watched you grow up training with her. You could barely hold your balance but you were able to kick a ball. Lucy immediately saw the potential you had. You were a rough diamond. Every time you saw a ball you toddled over as quickly as you could falling over three or more times before getting there but the moment you were close enough you just kicked it away laughing happily toddling after it again. Your sister watched with pride how you developed through your kid years until City picked up on your talent. You were just short of your sixth birthday when City asked Lucy for a meeting. They told her they saw you kicking about with her after a game and kept an eye on you and they were very happy with what they saw. Your sister agreed quickly to bring you in one day for a trail training day. So you were 5 Years, 354 days and 7 hours old when Lucy pulled your first City jersey over your head. Even tho it was just a trainings jersey and it was two sizes too big for your small frame you and her sported the same proud look. Hers was more noticeable than yours but you copied her anyway. The girls you had to play with were older and bigger than you so your first session didn't go as well as Lucy hoped. You got pushed around a lot. Your body more on the ground than not and at one point your sister thought about pulling you out but Trainer told her to leave it. She was right – every time you got pushed over you stood back up running after the ball. You were a true Bronze. Competitive to no end. Tough – not only was it your name it was also your personality. One of the girls tackled you hard and it took you a moment longer to get up Lucy already on her way over when your new trainer stopped her

“You're worse than any soccer mom” your trainer rolled her eyes pulling Lucy back by her jacket

“That little.... girl... fouled my sister... hard... that should've been a yellow” your sister gestured upset towards the field

“We don't have cards here” Linda deadpanned

“Well... then start using them” Lucy said upset “... they have to learn at some point... start young... so they know what's going on”

“Lucy... I understand you're nervous...” your trainer started

“I'm not nervous” your sister interrupted defensive

“You are a wreck...” Linda rolled her eyes again “.... your sister is good... by far better than anyone I've seen so far... she'll come far... but you have to let her do it herself...”

“That's my baby sister out there” Lucy growled “... I will make sure that little.... …. girl.... won't ever set foot on a pitch again if she fouls my sister again”

“Well... that's not how it works around here” your trainer said calm “... stop being overbearing... y/n will learn to deal with fouls”

Spoiler alert – Lucy and you both dealt with fouls the same... not well at all. You were always the first in a Refs face while your sister preferred to get into players faces.

With 12 you were invited to train with the senior squad the first time. Again Lucy was proud her chest puffed out when her trainer informed her that you would join the squad next week to see how you could keep up. You whined the whole way home to Keira to keep Lucy in check because your sister was so embarrassing. Keira just chuckled and promised to do her best but you both knew that it was useless. Just like the first time your sister pulled your first senior jersey over your head smiling widely.

“Luuuuccyyyy” you whined ashamed

“What...” Lucy asked pulling the jersey over your head “... we have to keep the tradition going”

“I'm old enough to dress meself....” you tried to push her away but it was no use

“It's tradition...” your sister grumbled as she tried to duck away from flailing arms

“You can't keep doing that” you whined again “... it's embarrassing”

“I don't care...” Lucy huffed grabbing your arm trying to get it through the sleeve

“Lucyyy...” you whined pulling against her grip

“Stop it...” your sister grumbled

“Keiraaaaaa....” you cried out for help only get met with an amused looking face from your sister girlfriend

“Sorry Bits...” Keira smirked “... she told me she will do it no matter what and I sat the stakes high...”

“I'm abstaining something very important for you....” Lucy mumbled as she finally got you into the trainings shirt

“Jesus...” you groaned “... why would you tell me stuff like that?!”

“Because I love you” your sister grinned “... now come on... show em how good you are”

You were 15 years, 300 days and 15 hours old when you played your first WSL game. It was against Brighton and you came on for Alex Greenwood who looked like a proud mother when she jogged over sending you into your first game in the 73rd minute. Lucy made Alana swap positions so she was standing next to you playing centre back instead of right back and you realized pretty quickly that first – Lucy was shit as a centre back and secondly... you weren't a defender. Your runs pushed high into the midfield and together with Keira you created chance after chance for Hempo, White and Raso. Even for Georgia – the new girl. She was nice but you couldn't really say anything else about her. Except for that she idolizes your sister and tried to copy her as good as possible which you found weird. It was just Lucy... if that girl wanted to idolize someone, she should pick someone good and famous – like... Rapinoe, Sinclair, Renard or Marta. But not Lucy.

“Come on Bubs...” you heard Lucy yell “... head in the game!”

“I'm right next to you you daft goldfish” you shot back pulling a face

“Concentrate” your sister sneered

“We're up 4 – 0.... I could start my French lesson with Kari and it wouldn't make any difference” you started to argue and your sister saw you were bored out of your mind

“It's disrespectful” Lucy said now calmly “... I know you want the big games but you also need the experience first”

“Against Brighton??” you looked at her confused “... if I score a goal from here... can I play against Atletico?”

“No....” your sister shot down your idea “... you'll train and you'll learn and get minutes and experience and THEN you'll get minutes in the big games”

“Keira” you whined stomping your foot

“Kinda busy here Bits” Keira huffed trying to get the ball of an opponent player so you just sprinted towards them getting possession and just belted it away

“Now you’re not...” you said as a matter of fact “... Lucy is mean and I'm bored”

“Bitsy....” your “other mom” looked at you with a blank face “... you just scored”

“Yes, I know...” you shrugged your shoulders “... their defence was off the whole game... there was always enough space between the near post and the backline”

“YOU SCORED!!!” Georgia screamed as she jumped on your back

“And you get off me” you immediately threw her off again “... jumping on me back without knowing me... didn't your parents teach you any manners??”

“Sorry” Georgia mumbled looking like a kicked puppy

“Don't take it personal G...” Keira laughed “... she's grumpy because Lucy apparently said something she didn't like”

“I just thought it was a good goal” the young player mumbled ashamed

“Oh it was... but Bitsy is... special... right now that goal doesn't mean shit to her... she's hung up on her argument with her sister...” Keira squeezed her friends shoulder “... you'll learn that these two are different than other siblings”

“Great goal Bubs” Lucy ruffled your hair smiling “... you still won't start Atletico”

“You suck” you snapped stomping back to your position “... and you suck as a centre back!!”

“One day she'll play for the biggest clubs” your sister looked after you grinning widely

Lucy leaving for Lyon was hard on you. You got used to her presence on the pitch behind you. You got used to her having your back always offering you a hand pulling you back up when you ate grass again. Always being there when you stayed down a second too long. So her moving to France was hard. You understood – kinda. It was good for her career but not good for your head. Keira did what she could to maintain your daily routine as good as possible but alone the drive to the Academy send you into a frenzy most days. Nick noticed your play was off so he put you back on the bench at first and then back into the B-Team. This set you off even more up to the point where you got physically sick every time you needed to go to training. Keira gave Lucy regular updates even telling her that it got worse with you and she didn't know what to do anymore. Your sister your saviour and protector came back to Manchester the first chance she got with the plan to slap some sense into you but when she saw you like a heap of misery hunched over on the couch all her aggression about you throwing away a big chance like this flew out the window

“Bubs...” Lucy said softly not wanting to scare you

“Hm...” you looked up your eyes dull

“Oh Bubs...” your sister sighed pulling you up and against her holding you tightly “... what were you thinking Bubs?”

“You just left” you mumbled emotionless against her shoulder not hugging her back

“We talked about it Bubs...” Lucy kept her voice low “... you're all grown up now and you don't need me anymore...”

“I don't want you to leave” you started to sniffle

“It's okay Bubs...” your sister pressed a kiss to your temple “... I've got a few days off now...”

“Not days Luce...” you were silently crying now “... not leaving”

“It's my job Bubs... you'll understand one day” Lucy sighed noticing how light you became “... we'll get you back on track and then you'll join me in Lyon okay”

“Don't wanna go there” you sniffed

“It's amazing there Bubs... they have so many ways to train... you have to see their gym Bubs... it's like the holy grail...” your sister talked while she gently maneuvered you to the kitchen table “but now we'll get some food into you and then we'll get you to bed, hm?”

It took Lucy all of seven days until she got you to eat small portions again. They were small and even when just a bite too much had you sprinting to the toilet again she was happy with her accomplishment. Five small meals a day. That's what you agreed on – breakfast at 8, then at 11 again, Lunch at 1.30, another small meal at 4 and dinner latest at 7.30. Your sister knew how much you needed your daily routines and she drilled it into Keira to keep those routines. As much as Keira tried after Lucy left you fell into old habits again. Skipping meals, training and meetings. The blonde called your sister completely shattered how she can't watch you kill yourself. Again Lucy jumped on a plane flying back to Manchester. This time tho she went to her girlfriend first telling her that she couldn't have done it without her and whatever happened it's not Keiras fault. Keira cried into Lucys broad shoulder and in the end Lucy stayed the night reassuring her girlfriend over and over again how good she was. The next morning when your sister entered your home you were already gone and much to her annoyance nobody knew where to. It was late at night when Lucy heard the keys open the front door and you entered the house

“Nice for you to join us for Dinner” your sister deadpanned

“What... Mum and Dad called the cavalry to slap some sense into me?” you shot back your voice just as emotionless

“It was actually Keira...” Lucy kept her voice flat

“Hm.... the girlfriend” you hummed finally pulling your shoes off

“What happened to you?” your sister asked bluntly

“I'm growing up Luce... it happens to the best of us” you shrugged wandering over to the fridge looking inside to see your mother left you dinner but you weren't hungry so you just closed the door again

“You are doing fuck all” finally Lucy showed some emotion “... you're killing yourself”

“And in what universe do you care?” you shot back your voice getting louder as well

“That's not fair y/n... you KNOW I care...” your sister getting loud now too “... what the hell is going on with you lately?”

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes pushing past Lucy

“Oh no...” Lucy panted out a laugh “... you are NOT running from me”

“Fuck off Lucy” you sneered as your sister tried to grab your wrist

“Y/n Tough Bronze...” your sister sneered back just as hostile “... tell me NOW what's going on with you?”

“You don't care anyway... go back to France and leave me the fuck alone” you were now full on yelling turning to leave again

“You don't talk to me like that” Lucy yelled following you up the stairs

“What is going on here? It's past midnight” your mum appeared on the hallway

“She wouldn't leave me alone” you exclaimed upset pointing at Lucy

“She JUST came home Mum...” your sister explained “... I just want to know what's going on with her”

“Can you please yell at each other quieter?” your Mum rolled her eyes getting reminded at the situations she already lived through with Lucy and Sophie

“She can just leave me alone and I wouldn't have to say anything at all” you growled shoving Lucy hard who now stood next to you

“Just talk to me” Lucy begged “... I just want to help you”

“THEN GO BACK TO FRANCE AND FUCK OFF.....” you exploded “.... AND WHEN YOU'RE AT IT – PLEASE CRASH ON THE WAY THERE!!!”

Lucy and your Mum stood there frozen as you threw the door shut so hard that two pictures fell off the wall

“Bubs...” your sister looked at the closed door tears pooling in her eyes

“Lucy...” your Mum said softly “... she doesn't mean it... I promise... she's just going through a lot right now...”

“Why does she hate me?” Lucy asked her voice breaking

“She doesn't.... she's a teenager Lucy...” your Mum pulled her eldest daughter into a hug “... there's a lot of change going on lately and you know never was good with changes... Go to bed Love... try again later”

“I don't have time Mum...” your sister cried into her mothers shoulder “... I need to go back tonight”

“You'll find a way Lucy” your Mum kept her voice gentle “... you always did”

“Pack a bag” Lucy all but kicked down your door a few hours later

“What?” you asked sleepy not registering what's happening

“Pack... a... bag” your sister repeated while she opened your curtains “... you have an hour.... if you even think of running... I'm still faster then you”

“Go an fuck off Lucia” you now growled throwing the next best thing at her which was a glass that shattered at the wall behind your sister

“You're coming with me to Lyon” Lucy continued not even fazed by your hostile behaviour “... Mum okay-ed it, I can keep an eye on you and I'll make sure you'll be too tired to even think about fucking up”

“You can't just...” you exclaimed shocked

“Oh but I can...” your sister replied calmly “... 58 Minutes... if you're not done, I'll come back up and pull you out of your room meself”

“I hate you!” you yelled after her as she left you alone again

“I don't care” Lucy yelled back smirking to herself

“Welcome to France” your sister sing songed as you exit the plane

“It's dirty and it smells like a trash pit” you grumbled as Lucy threw her arm around your shoulders

“Stop being grumpy” Lucy chuckled

“I still hate you and I still wished we crashed” you growled

“Hm... yeah... sorry I couldn't help you with that...” your sister kept her voice light and her mood calm “... we're gonna pick up your luggage and then we'll drive to me flat... tomorrow at 8 we have to be at the trainings grounds and you'll come with me.... if you don't come willingly I'll force you”

“You can't...” you snapped

“I can... what you wanna do? Run away? Good luck... they don't speak english here... Book a flight back? Good luck again... you don't have the money and on top you need to be accompanied by an adult...” Lucy gave you a reality check “... oh an the longer you decide to be all twaty the longer you'll stay with me and train here...”

“First chance I get I'll end your career” you growl helplessly

“Come on Bubs...” Lucy yelled from behind you “... keep an eye on the other right winger”

“Well... for what are you there?” you turned around frustrated as Eugénie Le Sommer took the ball off you again

“To get you back in line” your sister smirked and you used a stray ball to belt it towards her missing her by inches

“Tu vas mieux” Wendi smiled ruffling your hair

“No idea what you said but... tu es nul aussi” you shrugged your shoulders making all the French players burst out laughing

“You getting gooder” Wendi laughed

“Gooder is not a word... frog leg” you grumbled

“Lucy... dis-lui qu'elle va bien” Eugénie laughed

“They say you're getting better Bubs...” Lucy smiled her chest puffed out proudly

“They could also learn english... no one speaks French in the world... everyone speaks english...” you grumbled as you started to dribble a little bit

“Stop being so grumpy all the time... they were nice enough to let me bring you here” your sister groaned

“Yeah well... I'm not here by choice” you huffed picking up with your foot volleying it towards the goal

“Bubs please...” Lucy rolled her eyes still haven't figured out what was going on with you

“Please what?” you snapped watching the ball hitting the back off the net

“Just talk to me” your sister said and everyone around slowly but surely stepped back giving you two some space

“What you wanna hear? How alone I felt when you left? How suddenly it wasn't fun anymore to play? How the whole team sucked when you weren't standing behind me anymore? How it feels to hear “... Lucy would do it this way... Lucy would've cleared that ball easily... Lucy was more alert... Lucy Lucy Lucy” all the damn time? How nothing made sense anymore?” it exploded out of you

“Breath” was everything Lucy said fixing you with a stare her hands grabbing your shoulders “Breath Bubs...”

You didn't even realize that you stopped breathing – you just had to get if off your chest. So when Lucy grabbed your shoulders you just shook your head not knowing how to react. Your sister sprang into action shaking you a little bit

“Breath” Lucy said firmly seeing how your face lost colour “Damnit BREATH Bubs”

THAT did the trick and you sucked in a deep breath

“Good... good Bubs” your sister said relieved “... another one... perfect... come on... deep breaths”

“I don't wanna play anymore” you whispered tears springing to your eyes

“If you really don't want to play anymore that's okay Bubs” Lucy pulled you against her hugging you tightly “... it would be a great loss for the football world but it would be okay”

“I don't want to play without you anymore” you started crying your sobs wrecking through your body

“I need to at the moment...” your sister whispered against your hair “... I want to play against you in the Champions League...”

“I don't want to play against you” you sobbed grabbing onto Lucys trainings shirt tightly

“You scared you'll lose?” Lucy chuckled “If you don't want to Bubs you don't have to... but you're so good... it would really be a loss to football”

“Can't I just play here with you?” you sniffed

“No...” your sister said gently “... City needs you... England needs you... KEIRA needs you”

“Keira has a new BFF... her names Georgia... strange girl” you hick uped

“She still needs her Bitsy more than you realize” Lucy kept her voice soft “... you're the only Bronze she has left... the other Bronze”

“I need you back home Lucy” you mumbled against her shoulder

“I'll be back for Camp soon...” your sister kissed your forehead “... I need you to get your shit together by then okay”

“Not for Camp Luce...” you looked at her your eyes red and puffy “... for forever”

“Soon Bubs... I promise” Lucy kissed your forehead again

“Don't be nervous Bits” Keira mumbled standing behind you in the tunnel

“How couldn't I be? I'm 15 and playing Champions League...” you mumbled back your whole body vibrating

“You are the best out there...” the blonde put her hand on your shoulder trying to ground you

“It's Lucy we're playing against” you took a shaky breath

“As soon as you step on that pitch she's not Lucy... she's the opponent you need to beat” Keira said her voice low knowing just how hard it was to convince yourself

“As if you could..” you started

“I have to... it's Champions League.. even to we'll get another chance I don't want to travel to Lyon having to chase down goals to get those three points”

“Got it... go out... tank them over Manc style” you mumble to yourself

“Exactly... show the world that you are the better Bronze Bitsy” Keira smiled seeing how your whole presence changed into game mode

“Come on Ref!!” you yelled upset as you picked yourself up again being the main target of Lyon “Can you PLEASE for the love of the Lord and Baby Jesus do your job??”

“Bitsy” Keira quickly jogged over pulling you back “... calm down... don't let them get to you”

“Easy for you to say... I was more on the ground that I was playing” you grumbled brushing some grass of your shorts

“Then use your brain to find a solution...” the blonde pressed a quick kiss to your temple and suddenly you had an idea and you quickly turned around

“Beattie” you yelled out running over to the Scott

“What you need F'anwylyd?” the Scott looks surprised

“Switch with me” you mumbled quickly so no one could hear you

“Scuse me?” the older player looked confused

“You go into midfield I hang back” you pressed knowing the whistle would holler any second

“Why?” Jennifer asked even more confused

“They're targeting me... when I'm in defence they don't have as much space but you'll have more space to move and get a play going” you explained pushing the Scott forward as the whistle was blown

“Good move Bubs” Lucy hugged you sideways as she walked next to you into the tunnel for half time

“Are you even allowed to speak to me?” you grumbled

“Just made you a compliment” your sister pulled a face at your mood

“Bronze...” you heard Keira holler and both of you looked up “... leave me teammate and go eat some frog legs”

“Uh... someone fucked up” you snickered seeing how Lucys face fell

“I'll unfuck it later” Lucy pushed you towards Keira offering a small smile which Keira mirrored

“I can't believe you scored that banger” Keira laughed loudly as you got bulldozed over by your teammates

You scored... at a Champions League game... at home... against Lyon... from the box – not Lyons box... your box. It was the last minute of the game and Karen told you to just belt it out of her box after there was a ruffle just in front of her goal and she lost sight of the ball for a split second. Lyon threw everything at City and you did what you've been told. Somehow the ball fell right in front of your feet and Karen yelled at you and so you just swung your leg back to then kick the ball full force down the field. Everyone followed the ball some in shock some in awe as the ball sailed down the pitch towards the opposite goal. Pauline was way off her line and when she saw which direction the ball went she sprinted back but came to late. The ball hit the back of the net as she just raced into her own box.

“I can't believe it either...” you shook your head “... Stanway get off me you pillock”

“You just scored the game winning goal” Georgia laughed loudly NOT getting off your back while Tooney decided to jump on your front

“That was a true Bronze goal” your best friend yelled her fist raised victoriously “Now no one can stop us lifting that ugly ass trophy”

Turns out someone could stop you – FC Barcelona. You made it to the semi finals when you put a foot on spanish soil. Immediately you decided you didn't like it here. It was warm and humid and warm and more humid and people didn't knew the concept of personal space. Two steps out of the plane you suddenly turned around running straight into Keira

“Woah Bits... where you wanna go?” the blonde asked amused

“Home...” you said courtly “... I don't like it here”

“It's beautiful Bits...” Keira smiled

“It's hot and humid and sticky and sunny and happy and disgusting” you grumbled

“Keep walking” the blonde laughed “... you won't go back home until after the game”

“I swear Kei if I get sunburned or a stroke I'll hold you accountable” you looked darkly at her

“Sure thing Bits...” Keira laughed pushing you forward again

“This is the last time I'll put a foot in that godforsaken country” you grumbled – it was not.

“Gooooood...” you groaned loudly “... I really hate it here”

“Why are you whining so much?” Georgia asked “This is the same facility the best players in the world train”

“Shut up Pillock” you snapped earning a warning look from Keira “It's too hot to move here”

“Our game is at 6.45 tomorrow Bits... it'll be cooler by then” Keira showed mercy and laid a cool towel over your head

“I hope it is... otherwise I'll hurt me ankle during warm up and stay in the air conditioned locker room” you grumble from under your towel

“Oh my god... that's Alexia Putellas and Jenni Hermoso” Tooney suddenly squeaked out seeing the two Barcelona players walking past the window

“Woo-hoo” you deadpanned “Two female people who are able to walk on their own... how special”

“Bitsy” Keira warned you “... stop being a tosser”

“They breath the same air as we... they're not special” you huffed

“You're unbelievable sometimes” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Stanway.... don't let her take the piss outta you” you yelled from the other side of the pitch sprinting after Alexia “.. you pillock!!!”

You were able to clear the ball just as Alexia was about to shoot throwing a dirty look at her AND Georgia

“Can't believe I have to defend too...” you huffed getting back up ignoring the hand Alexia offers you

Even tho the spanish player was a little upset you got the ball out of play before she could shoot she had to admit you were good. Far too good for her liking. So she offered you a hand to pull you back up which you ignored instead of walking past her grumbling under your breath.

“If you stand there any longer Ale you'll get roots” Jenni teased her girlfriend smirking

“This girl is so good... Jenni we need her in Barcelona” the blonde catalan answered watching as you stomped back down the field

“Well... if anyone can convince the high dogs to sign her it's you” the dark haired spaniard smiled “but now... Vamos... game isn't over Capi”

“Vale vale...” Alexia laughed as she saw Ona coming down the side line for the throw in “Keep an eye on her Jenni”

“She's too young for me” Jenni threw back but immediately drifted towards you marking you closely

“Excuse me...” you growled pushing past the large spaniard “... I can't see with your ass in me face”

“Lo siento...” the dark haired one looked perplex “.. no entiendo lo que dijiste”

“Yeah yeah whatever” you rolled your eye and suddenly sprinted forward intercepting the throw in successfully getting the ball back “... learn english if you want to have a conversation”

“This girl is a lot of work” Jenni said slightly out of breath catching up with Alexia at half time

“Tell me about it....” the blonde said “... she's everywhere and sees spaces no one else sees...”

“First time in a long time we really need to work... even Aitana looks lost” Jenni chuckled watching you as you pushed Tooney laughing

“I want her” Alexia simply said

“I feel replaced” the dark haired one looked at her girlfriend with a twinkle in her eye

“She's too young for YOU...” the blonde smirked “... not for me”

“She's not even legal...” Jenni pointed out

“And still she made you sweat” Alexia laughed

“Joder” you heard Alexia swear behind you making you smirk

“You're welcome” you smirked as you turned around already seeing Tooney flying towards you

“BANGER!!!” your best friend yelled as you caught her easily laughing at her antics “... you saw that spaniard... THAT'S how you score Champions League goals... four of you on her and she still scored”

“They don't understand you” you snorted “... you can call them twatheads and they would smile”

“They understood your banger” Tooney smiled as you put her back on the ground “... look at them”

“Don't get sloppy now Toons...” you warned “... they'll throw everything at us... they're not used to losing”

“Let them come...” your best friend matched your competitiveness “... we'll show em how it's done City style”

It was the last minute. The last minute that destroyed your dreams of lifting that “ugly ass” trophy. Of course it was Alexia Putellas from a distance. You saw that Georgia was getting tired and you couldn't blame her. The heat and humidity got to you too. On top of that you had Jenni Hermoso on you CONSTANTLY. That woman was a real pest. You saw how Georgia read Alexias move wrong getting to the right instead of the left leaving the blonde enough space to move around her. You knew that your backline was too far up to get to run into a trap so you mobilized your last power and sprinted down the pitch after Alexia. You tried to clear the ball again but the catalan learned quickly so she just stopped the ball and you slided right past her – and the ball. The second you sprung back up you saw the ball leaving her foot and you knew it was over. Barcelona celebrated that goal like it was the final and when you heard the whistle seconds after it you crouched down your head hung low

“You playing amazing” you heard someone next to you in broken english making you look up

“Not good enough” you sighed

“You making us ...” the woman made a running motion

“Run...” you offered

“Sí... run... you making us run mucho” the blonde smiled friendly

“Don't take offense in that Putellas...” you came back up “... but I really don't want to talk to you right now”

“Maybe... despacio?” Alexia looked lost

“What?” you shook your head confused

“Ehrm... slow?” the catalan asked hopefully

“Slow what?” you tried to make sense out of her

“Talk... slow?” the blonde asked a little insecure

“I no no talk you” you said like you were talking to an idiot underlining your words with gestures

“Por qué?” Alexia asked a little taken aback

“I presume that means why....” you took a breath “... look... I'm warm, sweaty and pissed off... your country is too warm and sunny for me liking... I lost a title in the last minute of the game and it was YOU who made me lose... so I no talking you”

“Eh...” the blonde was truly lost now looking at you like you were a ghost

“Ugh...” you threw your arms up “... KEIRA!!!”

“What's wrong Bits?” Keira came wandering over seeing how frustrated you were

“Make her go away...” you pointed at Alexia

“I taught you manners...” the blonde scolded you seeing how aggressively you pointed at the catalan

“I don't want to talk to her and she doesn't understand it because she's only speaking stupid spaniard” you got even mor frustrated

“Maybe she wants to congratulate you on a really good game?” Keira looked at you expectantly

“If it was a good game we'd be through to the final” you snapped now turning around leaving Keira and Alexia standing next to each other

“I'm sorry” Keira apologized to Alexia

“She good... amazing” the catalan said again not knowing what just happened

“She's hurt” the englishwoman said offering a smile “... but sí... she's amazing”

“I sorry no good ingles” Alexia apologized awkwardly

“No... your english is good...” Keira immediately shot down any insecurities the catalan could have had “... Bitsy is just.. Bitsy”

“You... maybe question her switch?” the catalan asked a little hopefully pulling a little on her jersey

“Of course...” the englishwoman smiled understanding immediately “... give me a minute... BITSY.... get your ass back here”

“NO” you yelled from the other side of the pitch talking to Tooney

“HERE.... NOW!!” Keira yelled and Alexia saw in awe how you start to trot towards Keira

“Alexia wants to swap Jerseys...” the englishwoman said giving you a warning look “... don't you dare throw a fit”

“I don't want her sweat dripping Jersey...” you looked a little disgusted

“Bitsy” Keira slapped the back of your head seeing how Alexias face fell again “If you continue to be a tosser I'll make sure to get that attitude out of you tomorrow morning 4.00”

“Doesn't she have like... a new one...” you asked carefully “... if not there are about a thousands fans here that have her jersey”

“One of the best players in the world wants your Jersey and you complain that it's a little sweaty?” Keira asks shocked

“You know I hate dirty stuff... I can't even put a plate in the sink without going back two minutes later to clean it up” you whine and for the first time Alexia saw you as the person you were

“Bitsy please... it took her a lot to ask so PLEASE....” the englishwoman said now softly knowing NOW where you were coming from

“Can you... new one?” you ask Alexia directly pointing at her jersey

“New one?” the catalan looked confused

“Yes... no sweat” you nodded hoping she understood you

“Sweat?” Alexia asked and you groaned

“Just do it Bits...” Keira nudged you gently

“But it's so sweaty...” you whined but pulled your Jersey over your head offering it to the catalan who quickly did the same with her jersey smiling widely

“You good looking at Blaugrana” Alexia smiled happily as you put her jersey on

“Don't get used to it...” you wave off “... that's gonna be the last time you'll see me wearing that”

It wasn't.

“Welcome back to Barcelona Cariño” Alexia smiled as you got out of the black Cupra

“Look at that... someone knows three more words in english” you grumbled “... for your and everyones Information... I'm not here by choice”

“I studied hard to make you feel more welcome” the catalan kept the smile on her face being told by Lucy before not to give into your current mood

“Yeah well... if your club wouldn't have made me club selling me and I would've had a CHOICE to be here I would feel SO welcomed” you growled keeping your distance to the blonde

“Cari... your club is Barcelona now” the blonde said softly

“It isn't... it'll never be...” you snapped “... I hated it here the last time and this time isn't any different”

“Your sister plays here...” Alexia pointed out “... didn't you want to play with her again? Keira joined too....”

“I got used to play without Lucy...” your voice dripping with venom “... let's get this over with... what do I have to do?”

“I'll show you around a little and then there will be a photoshoot” the blonde sighed seeing in your body language that there will be a lot of fight coming from your end

“Do I have to put on this god awful Jersey again?” you asked as you followed Alexia inside

“Yes...” she simply said as she pushed a door open “... this is our team room.... here you can come before training or stay afterwards... it's there so we all can come together and just spend time together – you are not obligated to come here I would advise it for starters... get to know the team”

“I don't need to get to know them... I know everything from them I need to know” you mumbled your mood not increasing

“Like what?” the catalan challenged you

“All their stats... passing rate... fitness... weaknesses....” you shrugged your shoulders

“That's what everyone can look up...” Alexia said gently “... I mean get to know the team personally”

“No interest in any personal stuff...” you grumbled “... I hope to get out of here by November”

“You signed a contract” the blonde pointed out

“No... I'm legally not allowed to sign contracts... my Parents signed the contract” you said as a matter of fact “... they sold me like a cheap whore”

“You really don't want to be here...” the catalan looked shocked and lost

“No I don't...” you huffed “... but don't worry... I'm professional enough to do my job... I'll be here for training... do my part at games – if I get playing time that is... and smile for pictures... other than that I just want my peace and quiet”

“Here at Barcelona we're familia...” Alexia started “... I understand that this transfer came as a surprise for you and that you had no say in it doesn't make it better... but we are familia and you are a part of that now too... give the team a chance... it's not their fault you got traded”

“Hm... interesting offer..” you thought about it for a second and Alexia really started to hope “... no”

“Okay... I can't do more then to tell you that you are familia now too...” the catalan huffed defeated “... this way to the locker rooms”

“How did it go Capi?” Lucy came to a halt next to Alexia who overlooked your photoshoot

“Not good” the blonde answered shortly

“I'm sorry...” your sister looked embarrassed

“She doesn't want to be her Lucy...” Alexia said not taking her eyes off you “... she's an emotional player and she plays so much better when her mind is at ease... but right now.. she's so angry...”

“City did her dirty Ale...” Lucy looked over to you seeing how the photographer tried to get a smile out of you “... she's hurting... I just beg you to not let her get to you.. you'll need a long breath but she's a good kid... I know it's gonna be hard but you'll need to stay calm with her and PLEASE don't let her rot on the bench”

“She's too good for the bench...” the catalan snorted “... but she's not ready to play a full game... she'll collapse...”

“She'll come around Capi I promise...” your sister said convinced “... Keira will help too... when she sees me and Keira interacting with the team she'll come around too”

“I hope so Lucy...” Alexia sighed “.... I really do hope so”

“Go back to england” you heard a fan yell towards you after your first game

“I wish I could!!!!!” you snapped back getting right into his face “You think I WANT to be here?”

“Woah Bubs...” Lucy was quickly to intercept grabbing you shoving you into Alexias arms signalling her to get you away

“What the hell?!” Alexia exploded once you were inside the tunnel

“Let go” you grunted fighting her tooth and nail

“No...” the catalan pushed you forward “... we're going to have a talk”

“In here” she pushed you into a meeting room “... what were you THINKING?!”

“I just said what I told you before” you snapped back at her “... I don't WANT to be here”

“Okay enough..” Alexia yelled and for the first time you were a little scared of her “... the team was nothing than welcoming to you... you fit into our playing style... you just played your first game and you were a game changer... I understand that you're still upset about the trade but you can't let them get to you like that”

“You... don't understand” you said your voice breaking

“Then tell me so I do” the blonde says softly seeing how you were near your breaking point

“I want to go home” it suddenly broke out of you tears streaming down your face “I want to go back to me friends and me Club...”

“Cariño...” Alexia said softly “... this is your Club now.. I understand that's difficult for you but Barcelona is your home now”

“I want to go back....” you cried standing in the middle of the room with Alexia a few feet away

“I promise this team wants to get to know you...” the blonde kept her voice gentle inching a little bit closer “... to us you already are familia... let them see how amazing you are”

“But I don't want to get to know them” you sniffled taking a the one step back that Alexia inched closer to you

“Cari... I understand this isn't what you wanted but let us help you... you need to accept that in near future nothing will change about your situation” Alexia spoke softly noticing how you still weren't ready to let her comfort you “... you ARE familia... you can be angry and fight everything or you can start to let us in and accept that we won't get off your back... we won't stop trying and we certainly won't leave you to fend for your own”

“But why?” you felt so uncomfortable

“You are familia” the catalan repeated again “You are my Cariño, Mapís Neña, Ingrids weird norwegian thing, Jenni refers to you as Pequeña and Ona calls you Bebita... you just doesn't want to hear it because you're so angry with this... but you are already shining but díos mio you could shine so mucho brighter”

“I just don't know how... all my life I played City Style...” you mumbled and this time you didn't move when Alexia came closer

“Just play Cari...” the blonde smiled carefully grabbing your hand letting her thumb caressing your knuckles “... just do what you love the most and the rest will come... oh... and stay away from Mapí, Piña and Patri... I have a feeling you four will give me a headache”

“I don't need them...” you huffed “.... I can headache you all by meself”

“Oh Cari” Alexia laughed loudly pulling you into a tight hug

“Mapí!!!!” you yelled sprinting down the side line Alexia hot on your heels

“I got you Neña...” the Zaragoza yelled throwing a filled water balloon at her best friend hitting Alexia square in the chest

“Uh oh...” Mapí looked horrified as the blonde catalan came to a sudden halt turning towards her

“Neña...” the tattooed spaniard stammered slowly walking backwards as Alexia made her way over “... NEÑAAAA!!!!”

“Run you spanner... RUN!!” you yelled turning on your heels running back to help Mapí so you decided to jump on Alexias back laughing loudly

“I TOLD you you two are NOT allowed to be unsupervised” the catalan grumbled yet still her hands came around securing you on her back so you wouldn't hurt yourself

“The grumpy norwegian was there” you laughed your arms hanging loosely around the blondes neck

“She has a name” Caro grumbled when she walked past flicking your ear

“Grumpy... see” you exclaimed trying to avoid another flick nearly brining Alexia down

“Stop it you little pest...” Alexia huffed trying to hold her balance with you wriggling on her back “... go annoy Jenni”

“But you are victim of the day” you pouted with Mapí nodding furiously behind Ingrid

“And you will be winner of extra laps in a second... go annoy someone else” the blonde set you back down

“But..” you started again

“Vamos... I have media to do...” Alexia pushed you away slightly smiling to herself when she heard you huff.

It took you around four month until you finally agreed to join the team for a dinner and Alexia decided to push you out of your comfort zone placing you between herself and Irene. Lucy wasn't happy about it fussing over you the entire time you were still closed off pulling back every time one of the other players reached out to you. Now no one could ever imagine that you once were a lone wolf. Just as Alexia predicted you hit it off with Mapí, Piña and Patri – much to the Captains dismay. All three Captains. Jenni always sweared hell and poison on the frustrating four when she was on the receiving end of your pranks

“Jenni already left” you pouted holding onto Alexias trainings jersey

“Then annoy your sister” the blonde waved off

“Ay!!!” Lucy exclaimed from the other side of the pitch looking shocked

“Lucy!!!” you yelled and immediately you and Mapí took off towards her

“No no no no no no no” your sister waved her hands panicked not knowing where to go – so she did what she thought was best... she grabbed Ona pulling the small spaniard in front of her using her as a human shield

“Atureu-vos!!” Ona strictly said giving you and Mapí are warning glare making you halt in your movement Mapí running into your back pushing you forward nearly into Ona

“Are you serious?” the smaller spaniard turned around looking at her girlfriend “A re you really using me to stop YOUR sister?”

“They are scared of you” Lucy shrugged her shoulders embarrassed smiling apologetic

“Unbelievable” Ona rolled her eyes shooing the two of you away “Trobeu algú més”

“What she saying?” you looked confused at Mapí

“She's a not fun person” Mapí grumbled pulling you away “That what she's saying”

“I knew that already...” you huffed letting the tattooed spaniard pull you forward “... she always brings home these fin things... and then leaves them laying around in the kitchen”

“You would benefit from eating fish from time to time as well Bebita” the small spaniard yelled after you “.... now to you”

“I... love you??” Lucy smiled hopefully knowing she was in deep shit

It was safe to say you finally found your place. In a country that was still too hot for your liking. With a team that included 75% lunatics. With a playing style you needed to get used too. But you fit in. Alexia took you under her wing staying after trainings when she noticed you hid a ball from the staff to train on your own. The blonde watched you working on your technique, speed and stamina. She left you to sort your problems out on your own before stepping back on the pitch offering help and sometimes a shoulder to cry on when you got overwhelmed or frustrated.

Jenni took it upon herself to shield and protect you from the world. Whenever someone came to close and she saw how uncomfortable you got she pushed herself between you and the offending person. She also pushed herself between you and some fans when you lost your temper starting to argue with them. Most of the time you climbed on the lanky spaniards back to continue to argue just from a higher point. Jenni was one of the few people who was allowed to carry you when you fell asleep on the bus after a game or to the way to one.

Irene mothered you like she mothered Mateo. She always made sure you drank enough – not sugary stuff tho – eat properly and got enough sleep. When you were extremly grumpy and close to a tantrum she'll be the one putting her foot down sending you to your hotel room without dessert to later pay you a visit talking it out. At one point she even made sure that she packed a spare kit for you since you've been known to not be the cleanest eater. The amount of times the poor kit woman had to try to get tomato sauce out of your clothes were uncounterable. So Irene took over the task to have everything ready if needed. Including the cereal bars you absolutely loved but made the nutrition coach get a stroke.

Ingrid was the one who always managed to calm you down. You were young and hot headed and while you got quite good holding in your temper if the other players prodded you once to often you just exploded in their faces. So everyone looked at Ingrid to retrieve you and calm you down. The natural calmness of the norwegian made it hard for you to keep fuelling your fire. Ingrid just kept her hand lightly on the back of your neck and instantly you calmed down.

Frido was the fun Aunt who bought you everything you asked for and even stuff you didn't ask for. That's how you ended up with a motocross bike for your 18th birthday much to the horror of Keira, Ona, Alexia, Irene and obviously your Mum. Lucy and Jenni already debated who could have the bike on what day of the week until Ona and Alexia put a firm stop on their discussion confiscating the keys immediately. Frido had to hand out her credit card to Alexia until she thought of a more useful less dangerous present. So Frido got you a car with the argument less dangerous since more metal around you. This time Irene fished the Keys out of your hand telling you you'd get them back once you passed your drivers license and showed them you were a good driver. The swede just rolled her eyes at the adults calling them spoilsports earning herself five extra laps.

Aitana was your go-to for quietness. The quiet spaniard never bothered you or minded your presence and sometimes this was just what you needed. You also made it to your personal goal to teach her proper english after you heard her ask a fan if they “work or no work”. You had a coronary.... right there. Aitana taught you catalan. You asked her to keep it a secret until you were fluent enough to join a conversation throwing half the team off. The brown haired spaniard agreed smirking evilly when you out of the blue joined a conversation between Alexia and Ona giving your two cents before casually walking down the tunnel towards the locker rooms leaving the two dumb folded.

And then there were Mapí, Piña and Patri. Together with you the team called you the “frustrating four” since when you four were together in one place it'll frustrate the adults to no end trying to figure out what prank you'll come up with next. Or get frustrated by your pranks. The three women were your saviour. Mapí might be small and appeared to be easy going but in reality she loved you like a sister and fought every one who said a bad word against you. Piña was the one who poked you to do something that would get the four of you in immense trouble but she knew you were the one having a special stand with Alexia and Irene so your punishment would be lighter. Patri was the one always cheering you on. No matter if it was on or off the pitch. Whenever you needed a cheerleader you knew Patri was there. She made you run faster, jump higher, shoot harder. She also made you run faster when Alexia was on your heels again.

All of them got to witness how you grew from the angry unhappy girl to the mostly grown up focused young woman. That's why Alexia – La Reina de Barcelona – waited to lift the Champions League trophy until you were next to her when you won your first ever title. You were the first who lifted the trophy (the ugly ass trophy which Tooney pointed out several times next camp) after your Captain even before Irene and Jenni did. And just as your team celebrated, singing loudly you tip toed away finding the person you grew to like very much over the past year. You knocked on the visitors locker room door nervously and asked for the woman who came out and you saw how much the loss took a toll on her

“Here to gloat your victory around?” the woman asked her shoulders hung low

“No... here to win again” you grinned taking her face into your hands kissing her softly

“I knew you liked me all those years” the blonde grinned once the kiss ended

“Pillock” you snorted as you felt her hand grab the back of your neck pulling you in for another kiss

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #ona batlle x reader #barca femeni #lucy bronze #mapi leon x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #woso image #claudia pina #georgia stanway x reader

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13uswntimagines · 10 months ago

Text

3 More Days (Alessia X Leah X Child!R)

part of the Big Emotions Universe. Set before Big Emotions and Cookies for Luck

Summary: It's your first World Cup. Your first time in Australia, and the first time you ever had to be away from your Mama thanks to the stupid FIFA rules. The truth is that neither of you are dealing with the separation well. You just need to make it 3 more days.

warnings: none. soft angst if you squint, otherwise it's just a cute kidfic.

You decided you did not like Australia.

You didn’t care if they had cute koalas, and a super cool aquarium, and people with cooler accents.

You didn’t care that Uncle Luca had taken you to meet a turtle named Irwin, or that he let you and Squirt pick out a new stuffed octopus friend (you and Squirt hadn’t decided on a name yet).

Australia was mean. Your mama was mean.

The stupid soccer rules that said you couldn’t stay in the shiny hotel with her were mean.

All of her teammates were mean.

You did not like Australia.

You frowned at the field, wiggling in your seat as the keepers jogged out of the tunnel for warmups.

You decided you did not like the World Cup either.

“Why the long face Tiny?” Uncle Luca asked you, adjusting your turtle jacket.

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and a little crinkle appeared between your eyebrows as Mary took her place in the goal in front of you. “No wike it,”

He hugged you, lifting you from your seat into his lap. “What don’t you like?”

You leaned back into his chest. Your little shoulders shrugged again. “No wike it,”

“Ok,” He sighed. “Do you want a cookie? So Mama has good luck against Australia?”

He pulled a small chocolate-covered cookie out of your turtle backpack, offering it to you.

Your nose scrunched as you pushed it away. “No wan it,”

You didn’t care that it was your favorite, the one with oranges in the middle. You didn’t want your mama to have good luck.

You just wanted to not be in Australia.

You wanted to be back in your apartment that Leah sometimes visited.

You wanted to not have to say bye to your Mama after the game.

“Alright tiny,” He said, slipping the cookie back into your backpack, and pulling you closer to him. “Hey look, Mama is coming,”

He hoped that seeing Alessia would pull you out of your funk.

You had been… moody, even for a 2-year-old, ever since you landed in Australia. You hadn’t been able to fly with the team, but Alessia and Luca ensured you got to see your Mama daily. And the days you couldn’t, Uncle Luca and Nona did their best to distract you with trips to places like the Aquarium, the Zoo, and the beach.

It seemed to work at first, but with each passing day, your smile dimmed, and your interest in their planned activities dwindled.

Even your favorite pastime, watching your mama play soccer, didn’t pique your interest.

Your eyes followed his hand, watching with halfhearted care as your mama finally emerged from the tunnel, chatting with your Aunt Ella and Lucy.

You waited for her to look up.

To wave to you like she always did.

But she didn’t.

You sunk back into Luca, your gaze drifting away from your mama, and towards Mary just as she dove for a save.

She caught the ball easily, rolling her shoulders as she stood, and glancing back towards the crowd who cheered behind her. She smiled when she saw your tiny form bundled in Luca’s lap, sending a wave your way.

You brightened considerably, lifting your hand in response, and nudging Luca.

“Mazza,” You mumbled, pointing towards the keeper.

“She’s pretty good, isn’t she?”

You blinked toward the new voice, taking in the sight of your second favorite person.

“Leah!”

You launched yourself towards the defender, uncaring of the fact that she was still on crutches. The force would have knocked her over had she not been standing against the guardrail.

“Hey Bug,” She said as you buried yourself in her neck, clutching her England jersey like you thought she would disappear.

Things had been difficult since she had torn her ACL and hadn’t been able to visit you and your Mama as much as she liked.

Her rehab was difficult and consumed her. It was why Alesia’s brother and mother had been tasked with caring for you during the tournament.

“Hey,” You mumbled back, keeping yourself tucked into her neck. “No go? Stay now?”

“Yeah Bug, I’m going to stay and watch the game with you,” She promised, rubbing your back. “We’re going to watch your Mama win,”

She shifted, settling into the chair next to your Uncle, and pulling you into her lap. You didn’t look up, ignoring when she waved towards your Mama and received a wave back in return.

You missed how Alessia stared at the two of you, and the unspoken conversation that passed between them.

The continuation of the conversations they had been having since before you left for Australia, and Fifa had announced the rules that banned children from the team hotels. Since Serina had reached out to make sure that You would be taken care of during the tournament.

A conversation that both women knew wasn’t over yet.

But warmups were not the time to continue it.

********

Leah was worried.

More than worried.

You were normally like a ray of sunshine. You followed a game with rapt attention, cheering, and booing like it was in your blood. You waved at the players you knew and got excited when they waved back, especially if it was mid-match.

Today, you just… didn't.

You seemed wilted. Tired.

You barely peeked out of her chest, even after the game had started.

“Hey look, they’re getting ready for a corner,” Leah said, bouncing you a bit as the teams set up in front of you.

You glanced up at her, both eyebrows raised. “Flying header?”

“Maybe,” Leah hummed, running a hand through your wild curls. “You’d have to watch to see,”

Your nose scrunched immediately.

“No wike it,” You grumbled, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Leah’s chest.

“What don’t you like bug?” She asked you, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

“Elle is going to take the kick,” Luca added, nudging your arm, trying to get you to look.

You didn’t.

You whined loudly, clutching Leah’s jersey impossibly tighter in your little fingers.

They shared a look.

You were not a winy child.

You didn’t generally get fussy unless you were tired or sick.

“Ok bug,” Leah sighed as Elle lined up for the kick, raising her hand as the rest of the team jockeyed for position in front of goal. “It’s all ok,”

Elle’s foot hit the ball with a low thump, sending it flying in a perfect arch towards your Mama’s waiting head.

All it took was a perfect flick, and it was in the back of the net.

Alessia’s eyes immediately found the two of you as the stadium erupted.

She expected you and Leah to be cheering too. For you to be clapping and happy like you normally were any time she scored.

Instead, your face was buried in Leah’s neck, Lucas's hand rubbing your back.

She frowned, raising her eyebrow towards the pair.

Leah shrugged, rocking you gently.

Neither of them knew exactly what had upset you. Only that you apparently didn’t want or like whatever it was.

“Mama scored!” Luca cheered, rubbing your back more insistently.

You turned your head to blink at him.

“No want it,” You mumbled miserably, a contrast to the excitement still buzzing around you.

Leah sighed, gently scratching the back of your head. “I know bug. It’s ok,”

“Nooo!” You screeched, shaking your head, because she didn’t know. No one knew, and no one was doing anything about it.

They just kept telling you that it was ok.

It wasn’t ok.

“Ok, let’s take a walk tiny,” Luca scooped you out of Leah’s arms easily, already sensing the impending meltdown. “I think I saw a cool turtle shirt and a snack,”

It was becoming a twisted routine of sorts. You becoming frustrated and overstimulated, and Luca would take you for a walk to try and distract you from the big feelings you didn’t have words to explain.

Your hands twisted in his shirt and you tucked yourself into him, quieting more quickly than Leah thought you would.

“Nack,” You repeated.

“Yeah, let’s go get a snack,” Luca said, bouncing you gently. “We’ll bring one back for Leah too,”

He winked at the defender, as he headed up the stairs towards the concessions, and you peeked over his shoulder at her as he carried you away.

She sent you a little wave, smiling slightly when you waved back.

She hoped that things would look up for you now that she was here. She was by no means Alessia, but she had integrated nicely into your life since they had started dating (and she hoped the upcoming move to London would only strengthen the relationship you shared).

Hopefully, the familiarity and the plan her and Alessia had made would help to pull you out of your funk.

*******

“Hey love,” Leah sent Alessia a wide smile as she approached the Friends and Family section.

The game had ended in a neat 3-1 victory and Alessia had completed her mandatory lap around the field with the team.

Normally you liked to join her, holding her hand and playing with your aunts, but you hadn’t been waiting at the rail behind the bench with Luca like usual. She noticed that you hadn’t even been in the friends and family section.

Leah wrapped her in her arms as soon as Alessia helped her down onto the field. “Your goal was fantastic,”

“Thanks,” Alessia’s smile was half-hearted, exhaustion clear in her blue eyes as she supported the blonde who was still mom weight-bearing on her leg. “Where’s Bug?”

“Your brother disappeared with her to find a snack before halftime, and they haven’t come back yet,” Leah said, glancing in the direction the two of you had gone. “She’s having a hard time,”

Alessia followed her eyes with a sigh. “Beyond,”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so sullen,”

“It’s only getting worse, I think,” Alessia ran a frustrated hand through her hair, tugging lightly on her ponytail. “I don’t know how to fix it,”

Alessia had always been an incredibly involved parent. She had raised you herself, with a little help from Luca and her parents. She wasn’t used to being away from you for the night, much less days on end.

It broke her heart each time you cried when she had to say goodbye. And it killed her how you had retreated back into yourself with each passing day.

You had even started refusing phone calls with her so she could read you your bedtime stories.

It was clear that the Fifa restrictions were taking their toll on both of you, but she felt powerless to stop it.

Even Serina hadn’t been able to get her an exception.

Leah caught her hand, pulling it to her chest and drawing all of Alessia's attention back to her. The striker met the defender’s eyes, and warmth leached into her chest. It was something bright and safe.

It was the thing that had made Alessia fall in love with her to begin with. The thing that had allowed your mama to feel comfortable enough with Leah to introduce her to you.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Leah said, her voice sure and soothing. It made Alessia believe her. “I’m here to help,”

Alessia let out a shaky breath. “I don’t like being away from her,”

Leah pulled her closer, and she buried her face in Leah’s neck much like you did. “I know. We’ve only got one more game, and then we will be bringing the World Cup home,”

“Three more days, and then the FIFA rules don’t apply,” Alessia agreed, letting Leah’s words calm her. “We can make it 3 more days,”

“We can make it 3 more days,” Leah said, kissing Alessia’s forehead, just as Luca appeared with you at the top of the stairs. “Between Me, you, and Luca, she’ll make it 3 more days too,”

Alessia pulled away, glancing up the stairs. Her breath caught again when she saw you, clutching Squirt, a dark blue stuffed octopus and her brother for dear life at the top of the stairs.

You didn’t look out from your hiding place in his chest as she carefully made his way towards them.

She pulled away from Leah when he got to the rail, making sure she was stable on her crutches before reaching for you.

“Hey cuddle bug,” She sent you a blinding smile, reaching out for you. “Do you want to come down to the field?”

You peeked out at her as if you were contemplating the decision. You had never not willingly gone to her before.

It took you a long second before you shook your head and tucked yourself back into Luca’s chest. “No like it,”

Her shoulders drooped, and she had to fight to keep the corners of her lips from turning down. “Alright,”

It was like a dagger in her chest, deflating her and sending a sinking feeling through her stomach. It was a feeling of total failure.

She had failed you, and you didn’t want to go to her.

It was like an invisible wall of glass had erupted between you. Like there was a barrier she didn’t know how to pass keeping you from her. It was like she was the polar bear in the zoo that you had been too terrified to look at.

Leah rubbed her back, and Luca bounced you lightly, sending her a sympathetic look.

They just had to make it 3 more days.

She just hoped you could both hold on that long.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x reader #big emotions universe

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delicateperspective · 21 days ago

Text

The Observer (Observed)

Either someone is deep in the Lore or LT3 era has begun.

Edit: I guess I am going to turn this post into a masterpost of sorts. I go more into detail about what I think this might be here (hint: not Louis).

But for now just please play it safe:

Don’t give them personal information.

Don’t engage in DMs with them.

Keep a healthy skepticism.

TIMELINE:

Twitter user @FromTheObserver was created on March 9th 2025.

At the time it first tweeted, it's pfp was a lavender eye with the roman numberals for 369.

The bio was "Through the looking glass the observer watches, craving what is just beyond reach."

The cover image was the below (MORE ABOUT THIS ARTWORK AT THE END):

At 2:44 GMT PM its first tweet said:

"The silence is broken. At last I return. Did your faith in the future endure, or did it waiver in my absence? You have waited, perhaps doubted, but the silence was never empty. I am ever present, hidden just beyond the veil. -The Observer

At 4:55 PM The Observer tweeted again:

Have you forgotten me so soon? -The Observer

At 7:44 PM Louis' official account tweeeted:

India I had no idea what to expect but you turned up in full force. From Doncaster to Mumbai. Fucking mind blowing! Thank you!

People started digging. "The Observer" appeared in a list of songs someone found on the French Music Directory SACEM. They first tweeted this list on February 2nd 2025.

I was able to confirm the listing at this link.

It is important to note though, that this lists SONY MUSIC PUBLISHING FRANCE as a sub-publisher and Reservior, Big Life Songs, and Inconnu Editur as publishers.

If we compare this to an LT released song, SILVER TONGUES, that ALSO has Sony listed as the subpublisher. So that doesn't debunk this as a real possible upcoming song.

For those who were saying that since it's sony he wouldn't use it. It appears Sony still has some claws in him. But thats normal in the music industry. A SUB-PUBLISHER doesn't mean he has a Sony deal again. It just means that BMG might not have the reach he needs in France to distribute so they'd rather pay someone else to do it.

I'd also like to point out that I could not verify this or any of the other songs on any American or UK repository like BMI or ACE.

I feel really uncomfortable digging into potential songs of Louis' knowing how badly he doesn't like the tracklist leaked. So this will be my extent of my digging on THIS SUBJECT. (But please feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong or I am missing something)

On March 10th, 2025:

At 1:30 AM The Observer tweeted:

I told you… But did you listen? -The Observer

Louis followed Lolla India sometime before 10:19 AM (based on the HL Daily update)

LTHQ Posted a Tiktok of Louis' show at Eletric Brixton around 4:38 PM (based on the HL Daily update)

Louis posted a reel from his time in India at 7:25 PM

At 10:00 PM (20:00) The Observer posted:

Day 1, 20:00 It’s eerily quiet in the laboratory today. - The Observer

At the time of this tweet, their pfp was the same lavender eye. HOWEVER the 369 roman numerals were gone. Replaced by a 7 (Or maybe a 1?). (For information about Louis' connection to the number 7, see this masterpost by @so-idialed-9.

On March 11th, 2025:

Louis poasted a pictures and video for Soccer Aid at 9:13 AM

Louis followed Soccer Aid on Instagram at 10:53 AM

Louis liked a photo from Soccer Aid of his 28 jersey at 1:44 PM

At 10:00 PM (20:00) The Observer tweeted again:

Day 2, 20:00 Watching from the outside, I can only hope not to become one of them. Perhaps I already have… Is it too late for me? -The Observer

The pfp at this time replaced the 7 with a 2.

On March 12th, 2025:

At 3:12 PM The Obsever Tweeted:

Day 3, 15:12 How can I change what’s already been written? If the past is in permanent ink, can the future ever be a blank page? -The Observer

At this time the pfp updated to a red 3 at the bottom.

Around 4:00 PM CST Louis followed footballer Jermain Defoe on Insta.

Also on this day, a pretty TeRrIbLe article from The Standard dropped, essentially making fun of 28, Louis, and his fans.

We also get a "Rome Unseen" of Harry drinking coffee with a friend and yelling at stalkers trying to take his picture.

On March 13th, 2025:

At 3:12 PM The Observer tweeted:

Day 4, 15:15 Inhale. Exhale. Surrender to what’s beyond control. -The Observer

Pretty telling for a fandom that is crashing out over circumstances outside of anyones control.

The number in the pfp changes to a white 4 in the right hand corner.

Louis doesn't move on this day.

On March 14th, 2025:

At 6:20 AM The Observer tweeted:

The shadow consumes the light. A fleeting moment where past, present, and future collide. Do you see it? Observe. -The Observer

It is important to note that there was a Blood Moon Lunar eclipse that could be seen in London just before dawn. "Stargazers around the world caught the first sign of the lunar event, which began at 05:09 GMT, on a livestream run by LA's Griffith Observatory."

Note the nod to the Observatory, to shadow consuming light.

The pfp stays the white 4 during this tweet.

At 3:18 PM The Observer tweeted:

Day 5, 15:18 Across a million futures, one constant endures. -The Observer

Sound familiar? If you are a Larrie, it should. Mr. "souces say he has trouble with long term relationships" used a similar line in his "You Are Home" promo.

(personal opinion here. take with a grain of salt. this has confirmed for me that Louis has nothing to do with this account. This line was too loud when H tweeted it. It didn't fit any narrative. It wasn't even related to anything on the album. This and the "half way home" debacle were some of the craziest wtf is going on here moments in the You Are Home tweet saga. If this had anything to do with his work or career, Louis would stay far away from using lines this closely tied to Harry.)

The pfp updates to a white 5 (which really looks like an upside down 2)

At 6:00 PM LTHQ posted an IG reel from India.

On March 15th, 2025:

At 10:00 AM The Observer tweeted and immediately deleted:

"A true observer must always be watching. Blink, and you'll miss what matters most. 625 369 825 007 326 028 -The Observer"

369 and 28 are both intrinscly linked to Louis and can be found in the masterpost at the begining. 007 is typically a reference to James Bond which Harry is a favorite to perfom the next James Bond song or play him.

HOWEVER, 625, 825, and 326 could possibly be month/years. As in June 2025, August 2025, and March 2026.

Louis is playing in Soccer Aid on June 15th 2025. (THIS COMES INTO PLAY IN A FEW DAYS. Approximately 40% of the articles about Louis' new stunt involve his involvement in SoccerAid and how he will be on the team with his stunt's very recent ex.)

Should we be looking for August 2025 and March 2026 events as well?

At 9:45 PM The Observer tweeted:

"Day 6, Unkown Too quick to catch, too fleeting to frame in memory. But a true observer is always taking notes. -The Observer"

The pfp updated to a white 6 (at the three oclock position)

On March 16th, 2025:

We got two posts again this day.

At 9:30 AM The Observer tweeted:

Day 7, Unknown How did we end up here? -The Observer

The past two posts have stated that the time is "Unknown" instead of giving us UK time. Have we stopped tracking the time? Have we moved timezones?

The pfp updated to a white 7 at this time as in accordance with the dart board.

At 11:30 PM The Observer tweeted:

Silent? Silenced. Patience. Observe. -The Observer

The first part of this refers to an Oprah interview.

The implication is that someone has not CHOSEN to be silent. They've been made to be silent. However, if we - as the audience - are patient, we can observe what they cannot say.

The pfp updates now. There are no numbers. The pupil is smaller and we can see what appears to be eyelashes in the top right corner.

On March 17th, 2025:

We ge two posts again today. But it's what happens in between that makes it important.

At 8:25 PM The Observer tweets:

Day 8, 20:25 No key to turn, no doors to guide A journey taken, far and wide The walls unfamiliar, the roads unknown A wandering soul, yet not alone -The Observer

The pfp updates back to the original eye with a white 8. Which looks oddly like an infinity sign as the circles are elongated.

First thing to note is that were back on UK time. The second - your intepretation of this tweet will matter to how authentic you think this account is. For me - when I saw "no key to turn, no doors to open". I immediately thought of the tattoo Harry has on his ribs of a birdcage with no door. Next to his drama masks. Above the SMCL (smile more cry later?) tattoos. There isn't a keyhole nor a door to this closet. The "you are home" door is closed, it cannot be opened.

Yet the last line of the 28 word (if you include the signature) poem leaves us hopeful. Despite the distance, the walls, the unknown roads, there’s an undercurrent of connection

Then an hour and a half later at 10:00 PM on the dot The Sun gives us our very first confirmation article of Louis' new stunt. Which I will not speak about in depth on this post. If you want more info, my page is full of it, but I don't want to muddy this post with that.

At 11:55 PM we get another tweet from The Observer:

Fabricated fairytales, observed by all. -The Observer

The pfp does not change.

The "fabricated fairytales" is a line from Louis' She is Beauty, We Are World Class. (my intrepretation of that song is here if you're into that kind of thing.) This is in direct response to the stunt. It is not mincing words or leaving room for interpretation by the timing. It is saying "this is a fake romance and now the world is watching".

On March 18th, 2025:

At 8:35 PM The Observer tweets:

Day 9, 20:35 Nearly Halfway Home. A long journey, but well worth it. -The Observer

The pfp uppdates to a green 9 as per the dart board.

The tweet itself, needs lore to explain.

On April 1st 2022, Louis registered a song Halfway Home. This registration can still be confirmed here.

THEN on April 13th 2022 (two weeks later), the You Are Home account for Harry's House promo tweeted "half way home"

Home, as a concept, has always deeply tied to both Louis and Harry and both of them together. The lore goes deep, but a summary is here.

The capitalization of Halway and Home, directs us to the song name.

But if were intepreting, it's also telling us that there is a plan in place. And though its a long way out, we're nearly halfway there and it will be worth it in the end.

On March 19th, 2025:

At 2:28 PM The Observer tweets:

Day 10, 14:28 A fresh set of eyes, born from little white lies. -The Observer

The pfp changes to a white 10.

Little White Lies is a clear refrence to the One Direction song, Little White Lies.

Bare with my little larrie heart here (but since this account is obviously also a larrie I'd be suprised if you aren't too) but Louis is in the headlines more than hes been in a decade right now. The PR is PRing. There are a whole new set of eyes on him. All because he's selling the story of some "little white lies".

DARTBOARD THEORY AND UPDATES

At this point, to anyone who is paying attention, it's become clear that the numbers represent a dart board.

See the most recent overlay below:

There have been a lot of recent theories revolving around dart boards after Louis posted one while he was in New Orleans for the superbowl and then followed a darts player on Instagram.

As to keep this unbiased and not tied to further speculation, I won't comment on the connection around all of the other people in Louis' life that have posted pictures of dart boards recently (just know that his sisters, Pleasing, Lamby, Niall, and more have posted dart boards - usually with the dart in the triple 20 spot). HOWEVER, darts has always been popular in the UK and its growing in popularity with the younger crowd recently. It's entirely possible that Louis just loves a game of darts at the local, and his sisters' boyfriends do to, and he's watching competive darts lately (especially the first openly gay dart player who is super popular right now), and Pleasing thought somehow darts were Valentine's day imagery.

EXTRA STUFF & FINAL THOUGHTS

As mentioned by this Twitter user, the artwork is pretty well likely AI generated (plus a little Canva/Photoshop for the numbers). It has all the tell-tale signs of generative AI (wonkey lines, misproportions, etc).

Louis has entire teams of graphic designers plus Joshua Halling (who loves this skind of thing) in his back pocket. He wouldn't need AI for any of this.

At this point, The Observer is definitely an interesting mystery, but whether it’s something to pay attention to or just a fan-run account remains to be seen. The AI-generated images are a major red flag—it’s hard to imagine Louis or his team relying on AI when he has actual designers and photographers on hand. Even his more cryptic rollouts in the past have been visually polished and intentional.

That said, the timing of the tweets, the SACEM song listing, and the number symbolism do make it intriguing enough to keep an eye on. If this is a fan project, they’re clearly deep in the lore and know how to grab attention.

Key Takeaways:

Be cautious. If this is a fan messing around, engaging too seriously could be dangerous to your online safety.

Don’t assume it’s official.

It's probably not connected and Louis probably knows nothing about it. If it is somehow connected it will become obvious soon. If it's not (way more likely), it’ll probably fade out like other fandom mysteries before it.

For now? I’m just observing The Observer. 👀

#the observer #Louis Tomlinson #lt3?

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ellieslittleslutt · 3 months ago

Text

roommates with Vi and Ellie

roommates, vi, ellie, reader

cw: one kiss but not much detail, little angst (sorry), and swearing but i think that’s it

a/n: i’m loosing it so bad this took way too long to write and my motivation is kaput.

wc - 2k

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

roommates, notoriously known for stealing food, late rent, bringing girls home. unfortunately yours weren’t any different. you three were close, they were your friends, but they can be absolute dicks.

living with ellie and vi wasn’t the easiest, both of them being top athletes, vi captain of the soccer team and ellie captain of the hockey team they had all the girls crawling and pleading for them, you never saw the appeal only seeing them as friends. yeah they were attractive and vi had nice tattoos and ellie was kinda soft with you— we’re getting off track!

coming home after a long day of classes and lectures you would like to come home to a quiet and calm home. obviously that’s not how it works for those two. opening the door you put down your bag and is immediately greeted with vi in the couch still in her jersey a cute girl in her lap basically tongue fucking each others mouths.

rolling your rates you walk past them towards the kitchen “hey vi” you mumbled and she raised a hand to greet you. you grab yourself a snack and walk away to go find ellie in hopes she is more up for conversation than vi.

opening the door you see her passed out in bed already changed into her pajamas. with a sigh you scoot her over lying down besides her. she groans opening her eyes to look at you “m’ tryna nap” she mumbles shoving her face into her pillow “and i’m trying to ignore vi basically fucking that girl on our couch” you said taking a bite of your cookie scrolling on your phone. “who is it this time?” she asks taking a bite of your cookie. bonking her on the head to stop her and she grumbles pulling away you answer “the brunette one i don’t know her name”

“jasmine i think” ellie says getting comfy to go back to sleep “we’re going out for dinner tomorrow night after vi’s practice if you wnat to join” she mumbles “sure ill meet you at the field” ellie nodded kicking you under the sheets with her feet “now boot i have early practice tomorrow” she huffed and you got up walking out. while walking through the hallway you hear what sounds like yelling.

poking your head out you see the girl, jasmine, yelling at vi then slamming the door shut. once the coast was clear you slowly walked out towards vi “what’s up with her?” you ask watching her rub her hand over her face “called her another girls name on accident” she said muffled by her hand. you chuckled sitting down besides her “you’re such a dick” you said turning on the tv “shut up im tired” she huffed hitting the side of your arm.

you laughed hitting her away “you should just do what ellie does” you said taking a bite of the cookie “sleep all day and some how pass?” she asks looking o er at you “well no find a girl and stick with her.” “yeah then get cheated on by said girl and never trust one again?” she said deadpanning uou “shut up shes my. hold and she’s sensitive” you said with a fake pout.

you were always. protective of her since the break up keeping her in check and not letting her spiral, joking you were like her mom always taking care of her since she didn��t have one.

“so dinner?” you ask “yup you coming?” she asks “are you paying?” you chuckle “if it’s above $20 dollars no” “deal.”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking down the field with an umbrella since the rain was brutal today. walking up to the bleachers you find ellie watching vi her hood pulled up over her head to protect from the rain. sitting down beside her you share the umbrella with her “your hood won’t do shit in this rain” you mumbled and watching vi. “thanks” she said putting her head down on your shoulder and you passed her a small snack you always kept on you.

“i swear it’s like marry popping bag” she mumbles eating the small bag of chips “i only have so much stuff because you two constantly need something from me” she chuckled stuffing the snack in her mouth “thank you mom” she teases “you’re welcome child.”

waiting for vi to emerge from the locker room is like waiting for water to boil. she only claims she takes forever because she needs to get her hair right, i mean it is worth it in the end she does have nice hair but she’s probably also just taking her sweet time in there. ellie getting impatient and hungry bangs on the door with her fist “hurry up we’re hungry!” she calls out through the door.

the door unlocks and via drying her hair with a towel scoffing at you two “geez can you guys learn some patience?” she asks rhetorically. “nope” you smiled sitting down on the counter ellie jointing you waiting. “so where is this restaurant?” you ask kicking your legs “uhhhh somewhere around here” vi says putting her earrings back in. looking over at her raising an eyebrow “dude have you even picked where to go yet?” you ask kicking at her leg.

“ow! and no we could just figure it out” she shrugs and ellie groans next to you “v im starving i don’t wnat to walk around searching for somewhere to eat” she stares down at her feet with a frown. “we could go to the new place that opened up, they have chicken strips so that’s ellie meal down” you said looking over at vi and she nods “yeah that sounds good”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking around in the city you look around at all the lights and cars the cold nipping at your cheeks while you follow ellie who is crowned with the navigation title. “should be around this corner… and here we are”

looking inside at the tables it seems busy but there might be a chance of eating there. walking in vi goes to the hostess stand smiling at them “hey table for three” she says using her charm to make the wait quicker. coming back to you guys she grins at you two “used my charm i got us a wait of 5 minutes” she said proudly.

you and ellie both look unimpressed with her “charm? really?” you said with a chuckle and ellie nudges your shoulder “she slipped her a ten dollar bill i saw” she says looking at vi and she scoffs “nuh uh it was purely charm.” she says in mock offense. you chuckled patting her shoulder as the waiter takes you to your table “keep dreaming.”

the hostess sits you down at a booth and you three shuffle in vi sitting by you ellie infront. scrolling through the menu you frowned trying to look for something “els what are you getting?” you pipe up from the silence and she glances at you already down choosing now just on her phone “oh uh i just got the chicken strips like you said” she mumbles cheeks getting a bit pink.

vi giggled a bit always making fun of her for eating like a toddler earning herself a kick to the shin causing her to slam her knee up into the table other tables looking at you guys. you glare at the two sighing “can’t take you shits anywhere” these bitches we’re still giggling.

vi orders and burger and you were still stuck on what to choose. you could go with your favorite or try something new but scared you won’t like it. vi pats your shoulder encouraging you to stick with what you like and don’t waste the food. it was really because it was cheaper and after all she was paying.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

as the food came out so did the drinks and it was safe to say you ended up getting a bit tipsy along with vi dragging her out to dance her arms on your hips and yours around her neck swaying along with her while walking watched from the booth awkwardly.

“i like your nose piercing” you mumbled poking it and she chuckled “yeah?” she asks squeezing your hips a bit and you nodded “mhm.” “well i quite loke your eyes” she said softly leaning closer. you have to lean upwards a bit getting closer “nothing special, just eyes” you smile batting your lashes at her.

her gaze focuses on your lips and back to your ways then your lips before crashing them in to meet yours a surprised hum coming from you before your drunken mind morphs into it kissing her back.

ellie watched her stomach almost sinking watching her best friends kiss. she hated it, yes you were allowed to do whatever you wanted but she couldn’t help but frown at it her eyes getting a little glassy looking back down at her hands.

you were her emotional support, best friend and almost parental figure. she was five steps ahead over thinking it all.

if you got with vi you couldn’t spend as much time with her anymore and loose her friend, what if you guys move out and she’s alone what then— “hey ellie”

your voice snaps her out of it grabbing your purse vi standing behind you “let’s head home alright?” ellie could just nod following you two home not wanting to think about what’s happening in vi’s room while she stays staring at the ceiling in bed.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

what. the. fuck.

you woke up the next morning in vi’s room naked and her arm slung around your waist while she snores. a pounding headache throbs against your temples and eyes and you got dressed, pulling on one of vi’s shirts and your underwear you walking out into the kitchen to get some coffee where you spot ellie sitting at the table working on some paper. she didn’t look up at you keeping her eyes glued to her laptop.

you knew something was wrong by the way she avoided you in a way, shuffling away when you sat by her or ignoring your mumbled good morning. sitting down infront of her sipping your mug you tilt your head looking at her when she speaks up “have fun last night?” she asks her tone emotionless.

eyes widening connecting the dots on it all you groan rubbing your forehead “els it was a mistake” you said apologetically but she doesn’t take it “you’re wearing her shirt slept in her bed with her… are you two like what, hooking up or some shit behind my back”

“no els look it was one time and i would tell you—“ “would you?” ellie says sharply looking at you raising an eye brow. your mouth slightly open you struggle for words “i-.. y-yes! yes of course i would” you were almost pleading for her to forgive you. she just scoffed getting up shutting her laptop walking back to her room with no other words.

vi coming out of her room pulling a shirt on rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly while you were fiddling with your hair tugging it a bit a nervous habit. vi pulls your hand off “you’re gonna go bald if you keep doing that” she says softly.

mumbling a sorry you lean against the counter looking down at your feet. “ellie’s pissed with me because of us sleeping together.” you voice was lower and a lot slower like you were still processing it all.

vi hums making herself a coffee “i can talk to her if you want… don’t really want to but i will” you shook your heard fiddling with your top “i’ll talk to her later just… i don’t know i’ll figure it out”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

a/n: so this might be shit but i don’t have the energy to care and i rewrote this 5 times already sooooo

taglist: @myrruwrites @tloudani @nanasemo @nombreuxx

#tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie #arcane vi #vi arcane #vi #violet arcane #arcane #arcane season two #abby anderson #tlou abby

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uzurakis · 11 months ago

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MASTERLIST!

ⓘ if my writing hasn’t been linked, that means it’s queued and will be linked after it’s been posted. REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED <3

if you’re interested to request something after reading my works, make sure to read my rules FIRST then go to my inbox. thank you ^^

i also indulge in your brainrots over the asks you’ve sent and it’s under the #.entries tag! (just click the bold text)

credits to @uzurakis on tumblr. do not steal/copy/plagiarize/modify/translate any of my works on any platforms!

JUJUTSU KAISEN

001. headcanons

how they like to hold you close

reactions to your first kiss for ‘em

their act of intimacy

their act of intimacy pt. 2

falling into arguments

falling into arguments pt. 2

dozing off on your shoulder

dozing off on your shoulder pt. 2

stalker in sight

someone calls you cute in public

their endearment for you

hiding your injuries

you want to break up

too pretty to be true

being clingy with them

reactions to your ugly makeup prank

their friend also likes you

throwing away your engagement ring

falling out of love

tiktok prank to shut you up gone wrong

they don’t like you being clingy

waiting for you to wake up

stubble-trouble

dealing with a broken heart

they don’t want you to get hurt

damn, keep it down (NSFW)

nasty over the phone (NSFW)

nearly caught in the act (NSFW)

sucking it right (NSFW)

002. drabbles

accidentals — fushiguro megumi

shikigami favor — fushiguro megumi

reserved — fushiguro megumi

contemplations — fushiguro megumi

irrational — fushiguro megumi

night rituals — itadori yuuji

gone — yuuta okkotsu

open the door — gojo satoru

preoccupied — gojo satoru (NSFW)

alcohol — geto suguru

confined — geto suguru (NSFW)

BLUE LOCK

001. headcanons

their endearment for you

teaching you soccer

someone’s hitting on you

002. drabbles

attention — nagi seishiro

jersey — itoshi sae

missing you — itoshi rin

greasy — itoshi rin

endearments — itoshi rin

name — michael kaiser

jersey — michael kaiser

tattoo kisses — michael kaiser

SAKAMOTO DAYS

001. headcanons

being in a relationship with nagumo

being clingy with them

002. drabbles

whaaaaaat? — seba natsuki

riddles — yoichi nagumo

dinner — seba natsuki (NSFW)

#.navi #.writing #.entries

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kaisaerinlover · 5 months ago

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prize - sae itoshi

tw: kinda dark but not like my other stuff kinda dubious consent i guess

why are you even here? you have no idea, you don’t even remember how you got here, you don’t even know what’s going on, all you know is you’re some possession now, how could you know what’s going on anyway? no one filled you in, you just remember being led to the dorm room of someone, someone who you don’t even know, and left to sit on the bed. unfortunately for you that someone is sae itoshi. he won you, you think, you think that’s what’s happening. are you seriously being used as some motivational prize for a bunch of soccer players? this is seriously sick. you only know his name because there’s a jersey hung up on the closet handle that says it. you’ve been left alone in the room for what seems like an eternity, yearning for someone to come in and extinguish the loneliness, but the moment you see him enter, you instantly regret that wish.

sae walks in the room with someone behind him, a manager you think, and simply looks you up and down. his face is so empty, he’s unreadable. “is this her?” he looks at the older man behind him. “yes that’s her, she’s…” you zone out after that, they’re talking about you like you aren’t even there? like you’re some pet? you can’t even listen to their words anymore, you’re so horrified at the current predicament. you’re snapped out of it when the sound of the door closing echoes ever so slightly throughout the room. when you look up, you see the redhead towering over you, looking down at you. you feel even more self conscious than before and shift awkwardly.

“do you know why you’re here?” he bluntly asks, looking disinterested. you shake your head no, because you genuinely don’t, maybe your initial assumption was wrong and it’s just a big misunderstanding and maybe- “because you’re my prize now, understand” you wished too soon. what kind of misunderstanding would this have been anyway? stupid girl. you don’t do anything in response, you can’t even bring yourself to nod because you feel so tense. what does being a prize entail anyways? prizes are usually a fancy looking trophy sitting on a shelf, or a medal wrapped around the neck of some athlete, or maybe a money prize, maybe some stuffed animal, maybe an autograph. prizes are material possession usually, so why are you labelled as such a thing now? you were a normal person before this, so why? how can you even know what to expect when this is so… so… abnormal???

“what does- what- what’s a prize- what’s going to happen to me-“ you sputter over your words in anxiety. the prodigy in front of you simply stares at you and shrugs lightly. “anything i want” that doesn’t help soothe your nerves at all, actually it just made it worse. you’re so panicked you haven’t had any coherent thoughts since meeting the stranger, you didn’t even consider you were completely at his mercy. now you’re even more stressed. he notices it of course, how could he not? he finds it cute, like you’re some small animal freaking out over a predator looming over them, a cute bunny, or mouse. he doesn’t say that out loud though, he doesn’t so much as show it, fuck, he doesn’t say anything. his silence is so… eerie. he’s a unique guy, isn’t he?

what’s this guy’s deal anyway? he hasn’t shown a single emotion except indifference since walking through that door. he’s- suddenly a hand extends, touching your head and your face, the way you would touch some doll, or some sort of pet. it’s the first time he touched you. he’s examining you, you think, you can’t know for sure, usually you can tell people’s motives or even just a fraction of their thoughts from their facial expressions, this guy is just stuck on bored expression number 4 all the time clearly. you don’t protest though, you know better somehow, despite barely knowing him. “cute” he mumbles, having pulled his arm away from you and simply looking down at you now.

he’s weird, very weird. is probably what you would have observed about him in a normal setting. unfortunately you’re here as some sick prize for performing well in football matches. you had a life before this, don’t these people consider that?! what will your friends think, or family, or employer, or teachers, or anything? well, they never really cared that much did they, sweet girl? you’re just realising that now. you were never much of anything, nothing special, but nothing too weird worthy of getting picked on. did you even have friends? you never really talked to anyone. and now you’re paying the price for it, social connections are important, who’s going to notice you’re missing now? seriously, you went through life with the punishment of being a complete loner, and now you wound up here as well. does it get any easier ever? sae’s voice snaps you out of your slowly increasing nihilistic moment of realisation. “i had a long day today” he looks at you expectantly. you’re confused, does he want something? a massage? sexual gratification? are you supposed to know? you’re looking at him, head tilted to the side, hair sitting on your shoulders ever so cutely, god, he could ravage you here. you have those big innocent eyes he loves so much, you look so so clueless. very endearing. he locks his eyes on yours again as you answer him in an ever so small voice “o-okay-“ you manage to sputter out. seriously, what can you even say?

your dumbness is cute, to sae at least. he’s not even sure you know who he is, honestly. he hopes you do, but not knowing also comes with its share of benefits. he thought you would take the hint though, isn’t it obvious? can’t you just help him destress after a long day? unfortunately to sae, empathy is not his strong suit, actually it’s nothing to him. he’s devoid of it. so naturally he doesn’t understand that after you get swooped from your regular life and left in a dorm room belonging to some weird, yet albeit, handsome man you’re not really thinking things through critically. it was cute at first but he wants relief now. he guides you off of his bed and pushes you down gently onto your knees, and takes your spot on his bed. you go to protest but you’re silenced by his long finger pressing against your plump lips. wow, they feel really good pressed against his finger, his finger alone. how are they going to be on his cock? crazy good, probably. really fucking good. he’s excited now. he’s not the type to care for women, or anything really, but he’s interested in you for sure by now. you’re looking up at him, you know what he’s about to make you do, but you try and delude yourself. that works for the brief few seconds of him simply admiring you before he starts sliding down his shorts and boxers. he looks down at you with what anyone would say is a bored expression. “open” and you do. you do exactly what the prodigy says. you open your mouth ever so meekly. you don’t even know why you were so quick to oblige, but you tell yourself it’s fear, because why would you even want to consider the possibility of it being anything remotely positive in a situation like this.

he’s gentle at first, for the most part. he has a hand situated on your pretty little head but he’s not pushing you. just massaging your head. playing with your hair. like a pet. maybe like the way a child shows affection to their baby dolls. he breathes heavily as he’s slowly playing with your mouth using his cock. it’s scary, you never did this before ever, it’s the first time, you would rather not tell him that out of fear of sounding like you’re protesting. it’s easy at first, too easy, you ease up a little bit. what a mistake that was, sweet thing. he gets so relentless after a while, so fucking relentless. he grips your hair with such strength your eyes actually sting from it and your mouth is stuffed with his cock. he’s fucking your mouth so brutally, but when you look up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes, he looks so beautiful. maybe if you didn’t have his cock fucking your mouth right now you would even blush at the sight. sae itoshi is gorgeous. but do you know how annoying it is to find the owner of the prize you are attractive in such a moment? you feel a vague sense of self disgust wash over you. you’re pulled from those thoughts as he fucks your mouth harder than what you thought was even possible. the day you lost your innocence truly came sooner than you thought. sae is in ecstasy right now, wow, he doesn’t care for girls at all, he doesn’t ever grant himself sexual gratification including women most of the time, so the warmth of your mouth and throat are so welcoming to him. he likes you, he thinks. you look so cute on the floor, mouth all stuffed like a little mouse or hamster, greeding for treats. he almost laughs at that, he shouldn’t compare such a thing whilst he’s fucking your mouth like this. you’re like a pretty little flower, he can tell you’re innocent. he has a good sense when it comes to these things. you’re a cute lily, or something, he doesn’t know much about flowers, but what he knows about you is he wants to pick the petals off of you 1 by 1 and reap your innocence. god, you’re so fucking cute. taking him so well.

both of you are relieved when he finally cums, for different reasons of course. you’re so glad it’s finally over, your jaw aches in a way you’ve never felt it hurt before. that’s truly the sensation of losing your purity, or a small part of it. you’re sure sae will take more soon, and he’s sure too. sae is relieved he came too, but wow. you look so nice down there on your knees, panting, tears streaming down your face, hair messed up in a manner that he’s not sure if it’s actually cute, or if he just finds YOU cute in general, but he doesn’t care and doesn’t dwell on it. you have a mouth full of his cum. gross, it tastes of salt, and the texture is as slimy as sae’s personality. he’s gross and this is gross. you go to spit it out, but you’re stopped by his hand. he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, panting too, out of breath as much as you are (stupid bastard, you think to yourself, you’re tired from the pleasure i gave you? please). you didn’t even notice he knelt down. his index finger pushes your chin up, you know what he wants. he’s waiting expectantly for you to give in and swallow. you’re not feisty, you’re not some charismatic, strongminded girl from a series or book. you oblige. and he looks at you, still expressionless, but his eyes are telling you he’s glad you obeyed so mindlessly. he stands up and looks down at you, “good girl” he says it so effortlessly. it sounds really nice actually. your cheeks heat up at the simple praise. ah. why do you feel this way for him?

all you did is overthink since you got here, not a single coherent thought was formed, and you just became acutely aware of the ache in your whole body. your knees hurt so much, your head is aching and your back feels stiff. on cue, the oldest itoshi extends a hand out to you. should you take it? you could be like the girls in the movies, the series, the books, all of those works of fiction you’ve read countless times, heard stories of so often, you could slap his hand away and show him you’re more than some prize, heck, you aren’t a prize, you’re an individual too. you have individuality don’t you? you’re strong too, and you don’t need him. you won’t be his mindless toy. is that why you accepted his help then? he helped you stand, you are naturally a little off balance, you kneeled for quite sometime, didn’t you little trophy? you’re like a bunny caught in the wind, a small mouse, a baby animal taking its first steps, a flower succumbing to the conditions of the fall season, harsher than what it was accustomed to in the summer. that’s how sae sees you. he doesn’t play for prizes, he doesn’t play for rewards, he’s not a greedy man. he’s not looking for anything like that. but you’re the best thing he’s gotten in a long while from playing soccer so often. what a great prize you were, he wasn’t playing to get you anyway, he didn’t care, all of the other guys went crazy over the thought of winning such a prize, having their own woman to fawn over, do whatever they wanted with and face little consequences, whilst avoiding the effort of finding one too, but he didn’t care at all. but somehow, he’s glad he’s the best. he’s glad he’s the best because it brought you to him. you’re his now. you haven’t quite fully accepted it yet, but you will. you’re only resisting because you don’t want anyone to think you’re weak. or desperate. or stupid. or anything negative. but no one will think that anyway, you’re a prize now, trophies don’t need to stress about such trivial matters. your world is sae now. you can be as mindless and carefree as you want, because you don’t have any other responsibilities any more other than being a subservient little princess for sae itoshi. he knows you’re probably having an internal conflict, but he has patience. he has patience that spans for miles and miles. he could wait a decade. he’s not an angry guy, he doesn’t care at all. he’s not an anything guy really. one thing he’s pretty sure about though is that he won’t need that patience, you’ll crack. and it won’t take long. he’s happy at that fact, but he won’t show you it.

he knows his thoughts were correct when you trusted him enough to sleep in his bed the first night. you must have been really tired, huh? tired angel. sweet girl. that’s what he’s thinking. he thinks you’re all sorts of things. all positive, but all so demeaning. you’re just a possession after all, he still won you, and you’re so easy. you took no effort at all. you’re just something to be doted on, and used, not someone with a mind of their own, you aren’t equal to him. you’re more akin to… to a doll, he supposes. it’s fitting for you. he pats your head as you sleep against his chest and strokes your hair a bit. god you’re cute. yeah, you’re really his doll. being the best has never felt as good.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x y/n

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nataliescatorccioapologist · 6 months ago

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A Travis Martinez Deep Dive/Character Analysis

Let’s talk about one of the most (if not the most) controversial characters in Yellowjackets! I definitely feel like many of Travis’ scenes and actions are misunderstood, so let’s dive in to his character and understand why he does what he does.

General Information

Travis Martinez is portrayed by Kevin Alves. He is described as being 16 years-old in the first drafts of the scripts, although it is unclear if he is still 16 in the final product or if he was aged up to 17 like the rest of the main cast in the teen timeline. His introduction in the script describes him as “lanky, sullen, teetering on the awkward, hormonal edge of impending hotness, a sensitive kid doing his absolute damndest to pretend he doesn’t care about anything.”

Travis attends Wiskayok High School in the (fictional) town of Wiskayok, New Jersey. His family consists of his father, Bill Martinez (who is the head coach of the Yellowjackets girls soccer team at WHS), his mother, and his little brother, Javi.

Relationship With His Family

We get a very brief glimpse into Travis’ home life before the crash in the Pilot episode, but it does give us a few hints of the conflicts present in his family. We see that Travis’ parents seem to have a distant relationship, with Travis’ father attempting to give his mother a kiss goodbye and her initially being resistant to it, but giving in only when she sees Travis watching. Travis rolls his eyes at this interaction, telling us it’s a common occurrence. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m definitely getting the sense that Coach Martinez has had some extramarital affairs and that Travis’ parents are only still married for the sake of keeping the family together.

Travis confesses to Nat that Coach Martinez was “a shit dad” and that he “didn’t even like” Travis. I think, at least in Travis’ mind, he has never been good enough to measure up to his father’s expectations. We get to see a brief sample of what Coach Martinez's parenting style may have been like in his scene with Jackie, in which his version of a "pep talk" is telling Jackie all of the ways in which the other girls on the team are better than her. I have a feeling Travis' dad often took the same approach with Travis; a gruff, "tough-love" demeanor that only resulted in a deep sense of inadequacy.

This dynamic has affected Travis' relationship with Javi, as well. My interpretation of their relationship is that, while Travis does deeply love and care for Javi, he also harbors some resentment towards him for receiving more softness and support from their father. This resentment only grows when the plane crashes and Travis is left completely responsible for Javi. He's feeling the pressure of having to be an example of masculinity for Javi and his new role as a father figure for Javi, all while dealing with the grief of his father's death. He's overwhelmed and afraid, and therefore he takes this out on Javi, which we can see particularly in the scene where he makes Javi spit out the gum their father gave him.

Travis is likely replicating the harsh parenting style of their father with Javi; it's all he knows. But, underneath, Travis loves Javi; enough to put himself through the trauma of digging up his father's corpse to get a ring for him and to trek through miles of snow in sub zero temperatures for months looking for him after he runs away.

This is why it is so, so heartbreaking when Travis loses Javi just as he's learning to show how much he loves him. My heart breaks at the thought that Travis will have to come back home and tell his mother that his father and little brother are dead.

Toxic Masculinity

It’s no secret that Travis is deeply, deeply insecure. And, as is the case with many young men, this insecurity manifests itself through sexism, unhealthy stoicism, hostility, and anger. It is important to remember that Travis is a teenager in the 90s, a time in which the sexualization of women in media was rampant. The Third Wave of feminism was underway, and with it came an increase of misogyny and backlash from men. Sexist jokes and comments were the norm, and Travis was likely surrounded by them in high school. As a result, we hear him call the girls "idiots," we hear him compare them to girls in porn magazines, we hear him tell Nat she should stick to "folding laundry" and "sucking ___" (we all know how that sentence was going to end). There's no true excuse for it, it's abhorrent behavior and it's unacceptable no matter what time period this is.

However, if we look into Travis' past, we can definitely find an explanation. Much of Travis' behavior can be drawn back to his insecurity and feeling that he is not good enough. We know he was bullied throughout high school as a result of Bobby Farleigh's "Flex" comment and we know that he feels like his father never really liked him; that he never felt good enough for him. Another aspect of Travis' insecurity can also be linked back to the idea of masculinity that has been fed to him by society: the strong, macho, stoic ideal. And it's clear (especially in Season 2) that Travis just does not fit this ideal. He's soft and sensitive, and because this goes directly against what he thinks he should be, he feels shame and embarrassment in himself.

And what do men do when they feel shame, insecurity, and/or sadness? They lash out. Men aren't allowed to show vulnerability, so they instead replace it with a more acceptable emotion: anger. And we definitely see this in the way that Travis lashes out at the people around him. And to make matters worse, Travis is one of the only men out there in the wilderness, making him feel even more pressure to be the strong masculine figure society expects him to be.

Reaction to Trauma

The pressure Travis feels to be "manly" bleeds into his response to trauma, as well. Travis has just watched his father die in a brutal and gruesome manner right before his eyes, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage girls and a little brother to take care of. Most people would break down and cry.

Travis, on the other hand, is strangely apathetic. His only expression of emotion is anger. He snaps at Nat when she suggests that he help his brother, he yells at Javi and forces him to spit out the gum that is his only connection left to his father, he steals food from the others and blatantly insults them, and he essentially tells Javi to "get over it." Travis' coping mechanisms are clear: he distracts his grief with anger and he pushes away anyone that could possibly offer him support.

We see this again with another very significant trauma Travis endures: his sexual assault the night of Doomcoming. Travis is sexually assaulted by an entire group of girls, he clearly begs for them to stop (and they don't), and then he runs for his life and is almost killed. No one ever acknowledges this trauma and the next morning Travis is back to his usual ways, snapping at Natalie when she tries to emotionally support him and attempting to hurt her feelings to get her to stay away from him.

But it's clear, in both of these instances, that, underneath, Travis does care, and he is hurting. Despite him yelling at Javi, he wants to get his father's ring to make it up to him and support him. And when Nat doesn't budge and insists on helping him, Travis breaks down sobbing and admits that he "didn't want to" and that he is in love with her. (And in the script he even says that he wishes that Shauna had killed him that night, that's how strong his pain and shame are after Doomcoming!) Travis' hostile and abrasive behaviors are really a front he puts on to avoid being vulnerable, letting people in, and admitting to himself that he's struggling.

Relationship with Nat

Given Travis' tendency to push people away and hide his vulnerability, it’s not surprising that he forms a romantic connection with someone who mirrors his response to trauma: Natalie.

Their relationship starts off on shaky ground, marked by Travis' initial misogynistic remarks and even an incident where he points a loaded gun at Natalie. Despite this, Natalie is the only person who seems able to see through Travis' anger. Her own experiences with trauma—particularly the loss of her father—give her a deep understanding of what Travis is going through. Like him, she has developed a habit of distancing herself from others, driven by the pain of watching her father die and the lingering guilt of feeling responsible for his death.

This shared trauma—witnessing their fathers’ deaths and carrying the weight of guilt—creates the foundation of their connection. One pivotal moment that cements this bond is the scene where Natalie makes her first kill. Kevin Alves has explained that when Natalie and Travis kneel beside the dying deer and exchange a knowing look, it symbolizes the shared grief they both carry. In this moment, they are not just mourning the animal but, more profoundly, mourning their fathers together.

This scene serves as the emotional cornerstone of their relationship, which stretches over the next 25 years. Both Natalie and Travis are driven by guilt, shame, and self-loathing, and they both struggle with showing vulnerability. They have a pattern of pushing people away before anyone can get too close—a tragic cycle that defines their bond. They are trauma bonded and similar in all of the worst ways, which is what makes them so codependent and enmeshed, as they believe that no one else will ever understand them the way they understand each other.

Of course, Travis’ insecurity finds its way into his relationship with Nat, too. When Nat and Travis discuss having sex for the first time, Travis infamously asks Nat how many guys she has slept with. Nat immediately bristles, thinking that Travis is implying that she’s a “slut”, but, as the scene unfolds, we realize that Travis is actually just insecure about his own virginity in comparison with Nat’s sexual experience. He’s worried that, because of Jackie’s previous comments about Nat, sex with him won’t mean anything to Nat, whereas it would mean a lot to Travis. We can see how much relief he feels when Nat assures him that it does mean something to her, and “especially with him"; when she affirms he is good enough.

Travis’ tendency to get in his own head unfortunately makes itself known again when they actually attempt to sleep together; when Travis can’t get it up and runs out of the room. I think the script for this scene reveals a lot about what is actually going on in Travis’ head:

Travis’ feelings of inadequacy are spiraling here. He’s in awe of Nat and doesn’t feel good enough, and the pressure he’s putting on himself as a result is too much for him (and other parts of him…) to handle. As time passes in the wilderness and Travis lets go of some of his insecurity, we can see he becomes more communicative and releases some of his ego and insecurity as he discovers his spirituality (which we'll get into more in the next section).

Travis's love for Natalie is undeniable, but their relationship is inevitably toxic due to their shared trauma and self-destructive behaviors. After the crash, both turned to drug addiction as a way to numb their pain. Though they’ve tried to help each other stay clean over the years, their connection often pulls them back into destructive patterns. Every time Travis seems to be on the path to recovery, Natalie reappears, and she drags him back down with her again.

Javi’s death will create a huge, irreparable rift between them. It’s likely that Travis harbors deep resentment toward Natalie, not only for surviving when Javi didn’t but also for being a constant reminder of his lost brother. Yet, paradoxically, she is all he has left, and the thought of losing her, too, is unbearable. Despite their genuine love and care for each other, their relationship is fundamentally harmful.

Spirituality, Relationship with “The Wilderness,” and Development of a More Feminine Sense of Self

Season 2 marks a major shift in Travis’ character, and much of this is due to his newfound connection to Lottie. Travis’ desperation to find Javi makes him crave a sense of hope, and therefore makes him open to the idea of The Wilderness. Travis begins attending Lottie’s rituals, and expresses gratefulness towards her for the blood tea and reassurance that Javi is alive. As Travis becomes increasingly attached to Lottie and The Wilderness, we also see him become kinder, softer, and more vulnerable. Travis’ connection to The Wilderness allows him to release the societal norms and expectations that previously guided his toxic behaviors. He can let go of society’s idea of manhood and become a more authentic version of himself. We see that Travis has started to let himself show weakness, express emotion, and is much more open-minded and willing to consider other perspectives.

Lottie definitely becomes an important person to Travis in Season 2. I want to make something clear right now because I feel like it it very often misinterpreted. The writers have stated that Travis’ connection with Lottie is not meant to be interpreted as sexual in nature. Rather, Travis’ scenes with Lottie are meant to represent his spiritual connection with her and his need for guidance. The infamous sex scene between Natalie and Travis in which Travis has visions of Lottie present in the room is not Travis wishing Lottie was in Nat’s place, rather it is meant to represent the internal battle Travis is experiencing between his romantic love for Nat and his need for hope and spiritual belief. Lottie is being shown as a spiritual, religious figure in this scene. She’s not depicted in a sexual manner in Travis’ visions, but rather in a nurturing, holy light.

Nat and Lottie are directly opposed in this Season, with Nat representing pragmatism and Lottie representing faith. Travis is caught in the middle with his romantic connection to Nat and his faith in Lottie. While Nat tells him his brother is dead, Lottie tells him she knows he’s alive. Travis loves Nat, but it’s clear their differences in faith are creating a rift between them, and this rift is symbolized visually in their sex scene.

While Travis’ turn towards faith and spirituality does bring out a better, more likable side of him, it does, unfortunately, directly lead to his death in the adult timeline. While we likely won't get to see any more of Travis' story in the adult timeline, I am looking forward to seeing how he continues to develop in the wilderness and how his newfound spirituality and increasing disconnection with society will change him as a person.

Overall, while Travis can certainly be a deeply dislikable character at times, his development over the past two seasons has been fascinating to watch and he definitely has some hidden complexities that are starting to reveal themselves to the audience. Here's to Travis continuing to connect to his feminine side in Season 3!

#sorry this is absurdly long i just had so much to say i needed to yap about this insecure little man so badly #im going to do lottie next yall #sorry for doing a man first in this series #idk whats wrong with me #travis martinez #travis get behind me #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #travnat #javi martinez

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