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#he really said I'm going to STEAL THIS SHOW
bitterkarella · 1 day
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Midnight Pals: Men
Alex Garland: now this story is for the ladies Garland: i feel like you'll really "get" it Garland: it's feminist Angela Carter: ah, good Garland: it's about how men suck ass Carter: Carter: alright, i'm listening
Alex Garland: ok so, as we all know, men are trash Garland: i mean, am i right, ladies? Garland: not me of course! Garland: i'm elevating women's voices
Garland: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of the men Garland: it's about a woman who rents a vacation cottage from Austin powers Garland: like with the teeth and the voice and everything Garland: he's all "eh eh smashing, baby! yeah baby yeah" Garland: "shagadelic!"
Garland: and also every man in the whole village is played by the same actor! Angela Carter: the same actor? Carter: is it mike myers? Garland: haha no but wouldn't that be great? Garland: "Oh behave! yeah baby!" Garland: "thats my bag, baby!"
Garland: finally! a movie that dares to ask Garland: why are men Angela Carter: that is a very good question
Garland: you're all gonna love this Garland: some have said my work is highly vaginal Garland: The word itself makes some men uncomfortable Garland: Vagina. Patricia Highsmith: yeah i don't like that
Garland: so this woman is in this vacation home Garland: when a naked guy starts harassing her Garland: "yeah baby!" said nobody since this was not good
Garland: of course none of the MEN take her seriously Garland: cuz she's a woman! Highsmith: yeah well you know how broads are Highsmith: always hysterical Garland:
Mary Shelley: if some guy showed up at my house, i'd fuckin stab him Garland: she does! she stabs him in the hand Garland: the stab wound is a vagina Shelley: well then, she ain't stabbed him hard enough Shelley: i'd stab him right in his vagina hand, i don't give a fuck
Patricia Highsmith: damn mary you'd just stab a man? Mary Shelley: i ain't no sexist Shelley: i'd stab a woman too Shelley: show me a woman, i'll stab her right now Shelley: look i just love stabbing, honestly
Garland: each man represents one of the negative aspects of toxic masculinity Patricia Highsmith: why are we always talking about the negative aspects of toxic masculinity Highsmith: why don't we talk about the positive aspects of toxic masculinity?
Garland: then the Austin powers guy steals her car Garland: because toxic masculinity often compels men to steal cars Garland: meanwhile, overhead, the milky way galaxy spreads across the sky like a great big vagina
 Garland: i hope you ladies are ready for the big finale! Garland: does anyone here like M preg? Angela Carter: Patricia Highsmith: Mary Shelley: Garland: ok this ending might no go over as well as i thought
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Andreil headcanons?.cuz you've been posting about them
I have been! Thank you for asking Anon I'm flattered<3333
I've already made a post about Neil having a bunch of random marathon t-shirts and hoodies from just signing up for them cause he runs sm and Andrew stealing said marathon shirts but I really like that one so I'm going to put it again here
They do get married but they don't have a ceremony but they do all the legal things because ofc one of them gets injured and one tries to see the other at the hospital and they're like "Sorry family only" and they're like "time to sign paperwork I guess" and like a few weeks later Andrew shows up with two rings with their initials inscribed in each other's rings (because he's a SAP at heart) and his excuse is he's tired of getting flirted with and people asking Neil put so if they wear the rings it might put a stop to it. Neil only takes it off for games.
Andrew gets cavities frequently and will go to the dentist but he hates it and every time he has to go Neil drives, he always stays in the room, and if Andrew is having a bad day he'll call and reschedule his appointment because he's simply not going to subject him to a dentist on a day he's hesitant to even let Neil touch him let alone a doctor. Before every filling he puts milkshakes in the freezer without Andrew knowing so that when the numbness goes away later he can give one to him.
Neil has a super low alcohol tolerance and normally he doesn't drink, especially if Andrew does, that way he can drive, but he can be convinced by the other foxes if he's in a good enough mood. Andrew has observed Neil's five stages of drinking. 1. At first he's fine, he's just a little more talkative than usual. 2. As he gets tipsy he can be convinced to dance (typically Nicky's fault) 3. He's suddenly very friendly but overly paranoid. He wants to talk to Matt but he also won't stop glancing at the nearest exit every 5 seconds. 4. He gets competitive but it seems like he's just joking around so on the rare occasion Neil is drunk enough and around an equally drunk Kevin, Andrew is kind of in hell 5. Passed out. Low alcohol tolerance, Neil is out.
Neil actually wears a lot of Andrew's old stuff and they fit pretty well because even though he's shorter than him, three inches isn't that much of a difference for their clothing length, and Andrew has a broader shoulder build and is generally pretty muscular (person HC) so like, Andrew's stuff fits him. Neil wears his old jerseys, mostly, especially when they become long distance. Those two aren't face timing if Neil isn't wearing Andrew's clothes that he kept when Andrew left.
Controversial headcanon, Neil gets an honest to god tattoo that he wants. He gets a sleeve on his forearm that really nicely covers up the burns, anyone looking at first glance and not knowing they were there would mostly just see the design. When Neil tells Andrew he's thinking about doing this, Andrew comes very close to death by choking on coffee. They spend the next like, week sending each other tattoo designs and Andrew starts thinking about getting some over his scars, but decides not to since he wears his arm bands all the time anyways and he's not a big fan of the idea of a stranger putting a needle in his arm for several hours.
Andrew cuts Neil's hair. He trusts no one else.
Andrew is in fact a sucker for Neil so should Neil ever get injured or sick in the slightest Andrew does have a small tendency to hover. Neil's just trying to make some breakfast and Andrew is standing behind with cough medicine like "You should rest" and Neil swears he wasn't there three seconds ago.
Actually they didn't get the cats at the same time they got them individually (agreed to) and they picked them out together when they were visiting each other. However, when they moved in together they had to introduce Sir and King and it was a bit of a painful process and Andrew eventually just sprayed catnip all over the apartment while Neil was out and waited for those two to lose their shit and fall asleep together. This was a repeated process until they stopped fighting each other and started sleeping together and getting along. Andrew refuses to tell Neil how he did it and says that he just told them to do it
Thank you Anon!! Enjoy 🤗
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clonemando · 7 hours
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Aaahhhhhh more kiss fics from you!?! Yes pls!!!
Could I very kindly ask for Fox/Thorn and number 24 - a sleepy kiss pls?
(And thank you for shouting me out as well!)
Thank you for the request! Also all I could imagine during writing this is this: fox is eepy meme and was giggling. Enjoy!
Fox felt like he was floating, like back when he was a cadet and they had swim lessons and they were all taught how to lay on their backs to conserve energy while waiting for rescue. Although that floating was scary because there was a darkness under the waves that could swallow them up at any time. Wherever he was floating now was safe and warm.
"I'm glad you think so Foxy. Does this mean you're finally awake now?" A voice rumbled from under him and sounded close to his ear. It was familiar.
"Thorn?" He asked cracking his eyes open and wincing at the light in the room.
"Yeah, it's me. I told them if you woke up alone you'd go crazy and probably wreck the room before clawing your way into a vent to escape. What do you remember?" He asked and Fox snuggled closer, hiding his face from the light in Thorn's chest feeling a kiss get dropped to his forehead.
"Mmmm there was... A fight?" He tried to figure out what happened but his brain felt like an empty crisper that had been scrubbed clean. He knew there should be more mess in there and no matter how many times he opened the door nothing new was showing up.
"Yeah, Palpatine was evil, which we knew, but he was more evil than we realized. He was gonna try to do some sith ritual on you but you poked me in our bond thing and I was able to get some Jedi to come help. It was a crazy fight and I got my mind jacked for a minute but Windu managed to pull another prime and take his head off. It was satisfying to watch." He admitted and Fox grumbled.
"Don't 'member. Head ain't got no food in it. Like a crisper." He said then frowned into Thorn's chest as his partner laughed at him.
"Yeah turns out he left a lot of darkness goop in our brains. The Jedi helpfully scraped it all out but it takes some of the affected memories with them. The rest of us made video journals first but you were in a... a bad state. So they had to do you without any backlog. Give it some time, we'll get new healthier food in that brain crisper for you Foxy." He promised and Fox wanted to be grumpy about it but everything felt so bright and floaty and nice so he just grunted.
"Need mornin' kiss and some caff... 'm eepy." He whined looking up at Thorn finally through squinted eyes and it earned him another kiss, this time right between his eyes. He almost went cross eyed trying to see it.
"The fox is eepy..." Thorn nearly squeaked looking absolutely gleeful and Fox thought he might need to do something about that but he really was still exhausted and moving to elbow Thorn's kidney would mean having to move and he was so comfortable where he was.
"Thoooorrrnnn... Don't be mean. I'm tired. Can't punch you hard enough." He whined. Thorn finally kissed him on the lips like he wanted.
"Fine. You're just so adorable like this. I need to have the Jedi scrub your brain more often. Just go back to sleep Fox. I'll be here when you wake up again." He murmured and Fox hummed eyes already slipping shut again now he got what he wanted.
"Promise?" Fox asked as sleep started to steal him away again.
"Yeah, I promise." Thorn agreed and Fox felt fingers start petting through his curls and was gone.
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valhargreeves · 2 days
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Corintheus at cereal convention except it went differently,
Dream entered the hall with a name tag.
A nametag like all the guests were wearing. Of course The Corinthian had been surprised when he spotted Dream mid speech but no more shocked than the fact that what was said on Dream's nametag.
It said, "HELLO, I am The Corinthian's Husband."
Fucking hell, his face immediately turned red in irritation and embarrassment. He got off the stage abruptly and walking angrily to Dream. "What is this?"
"This is... me." Dream twirled his long ass coat, showing it off and smiling softly for a millisecond. "I'm not sure what you are referring to."
"No." He facepalmed, then pointed to the nametag. "That. What do you think you're doing?"
Dream had the audacity to look like a sad wet kitten that Cori didn't appreciate the dramatic long coat.
"Well....I needed one to get in-"
"No you fucking didn't you know that! Of course you followed that kind of rules."
"I may be a king, but I still have to be polite upon entering someone's...territory." Dream stated like it's the most important thing at the moment, when they both know their reunion is of destruction and unmaking, and revenge.
"Not the point, but you're fucking embarrassing me right now. What were you thinking?"
"Tch. Language, Corinthian."
Cori pulled his hair in frustration.
"Surely it isn't so bad... they all know...that you're gay?"
"Of course they know!"
"Then I don't see what seems to be the problem." Dream shrugged.
A silence.
"I have gotten married before, I know how to be a husband. If people got suspicious." convinced Dream. LIKE THAT WOULD HELP. AND NOT THE POINT.
"Nah, all your lovers left you."
Dream's face darkened in silent rage. If he kept going Dream wouldn't hesitate to unmake him right away.
"Sorry. Uh."
"It's...fine." Dream waved away.
"I'm learning to be forgiving. And... my husband would stay, wouldn't he?" There goes the threat. He only realized the crowd were paying attention to them the whole time when they made an "awww" sound. Someone yelled "just say yes dumbass or I'll steal that twink!" Remind Corinthian to kill that bitch later.
"Okay. I'll stay. And come home." The crowd cheered in support as Dream's face brightened in happiness. He attempted to smile as an angel would but failed miserably. Dream's smile isn't beautiful, they're scary as hell and Cori didn't know if the king ever noticed some people weren't made to smile. However the reward is appreciated just the same, he'd take what he could get.
"That's what I thought."
Another day, another Dream of the Endless getting whatever the hell he wanted.
-
Some other day;
Again, they're in the Waking world. They've compromised that Corinthian would no longer hunt down the humans. Unless they really, really deserved it. Dream could look the other way every once in a while.
Some rando who is Corinthian's fan: Hello, Corinthian I'm a fan of your works!
Cori: thanks
Them: and this is...? (They look at Dream)
Dream: you don't know who am I?
Them: no...am I supposed to?
Cori: (please, please control your temper. Don't cause a scene in the Waking world.)
Dream: I'm the Corinthian's Husband. 😊
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tammyjackson50-blog · 6 hours
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Sam is sleeping at your place tonight \\ S.M
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Summary : It was another one of those days where your boyfriend stayed over for the night. But what happens when instead of sleeping, something else happens?
The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room, casting shadows across the walls as you and Sam lay on your bed, cuddling.
Your leg draped over his.
Sam got hooked by the show, but you were focusing at his face,
admiring the contours and features you knew so well.
His natural beauty, without makeup, had a unique charm for you.
In the quiet of the night, surrounded by one another's warmth, It was the simplicity of being together that gave you joy.
"You look beautiful without makeup, Sammy" you whispered softly, your words barely audible over the sound of the TV.
Sam turned to you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, followed by a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes "Thanks, babe" he said.
"I also love your profile side" you said, running your finger along Sam's jawline.
He tilted his head slightly, the soft glow of the TV drawing attention to his features.
"Really?" he asked, his tone slightly shy.
With a soft smile on your lips, you nodded. "Yes, without a doubt" You replied, appreciation clearly visible in your look, "It's just as beautiful as the front view"
A mixture of passion and affection colored Sam's face who felt grateful for your compliments.
"What's going on right now, baby?" He laughs, taken aback by your surprising compliment, you chuckle at his confusion,"Just feeling extra appreciative of your beauty tonight, that's all" you say, your tone light and affectionate.
Sam's laughter fills the room, the sound echoing with warmth and happiness "Well, I'm not complaining" he said as he pulling you closer for a hug.
You meet Sam's gaze, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest as he looks down at you, his eyes linger on your lips, and when he asks, "Y/N? Can I kiss you?" your heart skips a beat, you nod, a soft smile spreading across your lips, your eyes locking with his, "you don't need to ask" you whisper, closing the distance between your lips in a sweet, tender kiss.
Suddenly you hear a knock on the door, causing you both to sit up fast like you did nothing "Yes?" You said, "Kids, can you turn the TV down a little?" "I'm going to bed" your mom said.
You exchange a quick glance with Sam, a smile playing on your lips as you both try not to laugh. “Sure, Mom” you call out, trying to sound casual despite the lingering heat of the moment. "Good night!" Sam adds, his voice filled with amusement.
As the sound of your mother's footsteps fade away, you both break out into quiet laughter, the interruption only adding to the sweetness of the moment.
"Let's go to sleep, I need to help my dad tomorrow with the house, you know." You nod understandingly, "But..." he continues, a hint of frustration seeping into his voice, "I really would like to kiss you again" you meet his gaze with a soft smile "Of course you would" you joked, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of another tender moment shared between you two.
With a gentle sigh, Sam leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away, "Why are you disappointed like it's the end of the world" you laughed "well.." he adjusts his sweatpants "Not now..."
You watch as Sam adjusts his sweatpants, a mix of desire and frustration evident in his movements.
His words trail off, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air.
You meet his gaze, "Maybe we can steal a few moments" you suggest, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Sam's eyes light up at your suggestion, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Yeah?" he murmurs, the excitement evident in his voice.
Without waiting for a response, he closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss.
Time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in each other, the world outside your bedroom fading away.
As the kiss deepens, a wave of desire washes over you, igniting a fiery passion between you and Sam.
His hands roam gently over your body, tracing every curve that sends shivers down your spine, your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the intoxicating heat of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you explore each other with a fervent hunger, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.
As you reluctantly break the kiss, a breathless chuckle escapes your lips. "We should stop," you say softly, though your own desire still burns brightly.
Sam looks at you with a mix of longing and uncertainty, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky with desire as he leans in to kiss you again.
Despite the tempting pull of his lips, you gently place a hand on his chest, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Yeah, I'm sure," you reply, your voice filled with affection. "We have all the time in the world for this Sam" With a final lingering kiss, you both reluctantly pull away,
" You can't do this to me right now " he said, joking leaning in to kiss your neck, you laugh softly at Sam's playful protest, feeling a rush of warmth as he leans in to kiss your neck.
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His lips against your skin send a shiver down your spine, and you tilt your head back, savoring the sensation. "You're the one who started it" you tease, a smile playing on your lips as his kisses trail along your neck.
Despite the temptation, you gently push him away with a playful pout. "But seriously, let's save the rest for other time" you say, Sam chuckles, pressing a final kiss to your lips before settling back beside you, his arm draped protectively over your waist.
"Well, you are the one who gave me those compliments" he said, making you gasp softly and turning you around in surprise as Sam's lips find yours once more.
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His hands roam over your body, sending electric pulses of pleasure through your veins.
You find yourself melting into his touch, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his desire.
As he squeezes your breasts softly, a moan escapes your lips, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of his touch, knowing that with Sam, every moment is filled with love and desire.
you find yourself melting into his touch, unable to resist as he squeezes your breasts softly, a moan escapes your lips, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
As his lips continue to caress yours, the world around you fades into a blur, leaving only the two of you lost in a haze of passion and desire. His touch ignites a fiery longing within you, sending your heart racing with every gentle squeeze and tender kiss.
You find yourself craving more, your body arching towards his in a silent plea for closeness.
Feeling Sam shift his weight, you gasp softly as he settles on top of you, his gaze burning with desire as he looks down at you.
Your breath catches in your throat as his hands roam over your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
Lost in the intensity of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the heat of his embrace.
"Hey" you murmur between kisses, "you're pretty good at this whole making out thing" Sam grins against your lips, his hands tracing patterns along your sides, "Well, I've had a lot of practice" he teases, his voice husky with desire.
You playfully roll your eyes "Oh, is that so? Should I be jealous?" He chuckles, leaning in to nuzzle your neck "Nah, you're the only one who gets to experience my expert kissing skills", You laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair "Lucky me" you quip, pulling him closer for another kiss.
you playfully nudge Sam with your elbow "So, tell me, Mr. Expert Kisser, what's your secret?"
Sam smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously "Ah, well, it's all about the technique" he replies with mock seriousness.
You raise an eyebrow, "Oh really?"
Leaning in close, Sam whispers conspiratorially, "It's all in the lip action" He punctuates his words with a series of exaggerated kissing noises, causing you to burst into giggles.
"Is that so?" you tease, running your fingers along his jawline "I'll have to take notes for future reference", Sam laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. "Consider it a masterclass in smooching" he says with a wink, before capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.
Sam suddenly pulls away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Wait a minute," he says, pretending to search his pockets, "I think I have something that'll take our makeout session to the next level."
Curious, you watch as Sam rummages around before producing a small tube of lip balm, you raise an eyebrow, unsure of what to expect, "Trust me," Sam says with a grin, uncapping the lip balm and applying it to his lips with exaggerated precision.
You can't help but laugh at the sight of him, his playful antics bringing a smile to your face. "What are you doing?" you ask, trying to stifle your giggles.
"Just adding a little extra...flavor" Sam replies with a wink, leaning in to kiss you once more.
As his lips meet yours, you can't help but taste the sweet hint of the lip balm.
You pull away from the kiss, unable to contain your laughter as you look at Sam with mock disbelief. "You are so weird, Sam," you say between giggles, shaking your head in amusement. "That's the last thing I expected from you to do."
Sam grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he shrugs, "Hey, I like to keep you on your toes" he says, his tone playful,
"Life's too short to be predictable."
You chuckle, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Well, you definitely succeeded in surprising me," he lean in to capture your lips in another kiss, the taste of the lip balm adding an extra layer of sweetness to the moment.
You gently place your hands on Sam's chest, trying to suppress a laugh as you push him away gently. "No, enough, Sam," you say firmly, though the laughter still dances in your eyes "We really need to sleep."
But Sam doesn't seem to heed your words, his kisses growing more insistent, you can't help but giggle as his persistence, even as you try to maintain some semblance of seriousness.
"Sam, seriously" you protest, though the smile on your lips betrays your amusement, "We have to get up early tomorrow" Sam finally relents, though a mischievous twinkle remains in his eyes.
"Okay okay" he says with a grin, rolling over to his side of the bed, "But no promises about tomorrow night."
You laugh softly, shaking your head in fond exasperation as you settle back into the bed beside him.
With a final kiss goodnight, you both drift off to sleep.
Should I make part two? ;)
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kurtscrackers · 1 month
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İbrahim Çelikkol as Korkut Zakkum in Gaddar (2024-)
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jewishvitya · 6 months
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When this says Israelis don't empathize with Palestinians. A warning for racism and heavy dehumanization.
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And I'm going to reiterate the reminder that I grew up in the settlements in the West Bank, I lived the most extreme version of everything.
I remember being a kid and being taught that Palestinians don't care about their children. I was taught they see their children as tools of war. A Palestinian child was a weapon meant to kill me. There were political cartoons of Palestinian mothers strapping suicide bombing belts to their children.
And so when we saw a video of a Palestinian parent grieving the death of a child, it was claimed to be a performance. The language was things like "look at how they're milking it." I was taught not to believe their grief. How far do you have to dehumanize a person, to think a parent's grief over their child isn't genuine.
When I was a teenager on my first job at a bakery, I had a Palestinian coworker. He showed me pictures of his wife and his son, and I was confronted with the fact that he was a proud and loving father to a healthy and happy toddler.
He was very kind. I was awful at paying attention to the time, but he noticed when I was working for too long. He'd make me a sandwich and tell me to take a break. He often sat with me and we'd talk. Compare kosher laws with halal, chat about similarities and differences. He taught me how to check grain correctly before cooking it.
I told my family members about him. They told me he's trying to seduce me, to steal me away, and urged me to be careful. "They can never really be your friends."
When I got married, I told him "next time you see me, I'll be wearing a headscarf" (because for Jewish religious women it's usually a married thing) and he was so unbelievably happy for me. We talked about how regal headscarves look. It's how I always felt wearing them.
I told my family members. They kinda rolled their eyes and said "maybe he's one of the good ones."
The mentality is כבדהו וחשדהו. "respect them, and suspect them." I don't see respect, but I do see how every Palestinian is treated as untrustworthy. And it's so pervasive that my child was told this by a teacher.
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crushedbyhyperbole · 3 months
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Whiskey on the Tongue
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.
It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.
I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.
Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.
*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***
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Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.
The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.
“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.
“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.
“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.
“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.
Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.
He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.
He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.
“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”
Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.
You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.
Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.
He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.
It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.
A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.
He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.
The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.
“Where’s yours?”
The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.
“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.
Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.
You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.
Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.
Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.
He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…
“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.
You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.
“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.
You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”
Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.
His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.
Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.
He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.
Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.
While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.
Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”
You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.
Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.
Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.
“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”
You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.
From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.
When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.
Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.
“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.
“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.
His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.
You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.
Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.
“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.
He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.
When you moved to sit, he stopped you.
“Here, lemme get that.”
“Thanks.”
He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.
A loud knock at the door started you.
“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”
“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.
“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.
“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.
There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.
Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.
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azzo0 · 4 months
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Had a silly thought of Bakugo eating your leftovers <3
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Bakugo noticed you had a habit of leaving at least three to four bites of food on your plate on your first date. He kept staring back and forth between you and the unfinished food as you talked to him animatedly.
"Finish your food." He told you. 
"Oh, I can't eat more. I'm really full."
He sighed in annoyance and stood up. He leaned over and grabbed your plate, seating himself again. He grumbled to himself about wasting delicious food and finished your leftovers for you. 
You watched him dreamily as he ate. Someone who could finish your leftovers. Very convenient. 
From there on, it became the norm for you to pass your plate with unfinished food to Bakugo. He made sure to show his annoyance each time, but you knew he was more than glad to empty your plate for you. Over time, he trained his stomach to make room for your leftovers after finishing his portion. 
At this point, the last two bites of your food are meant for him. 
One day, you're having dinner together in his apartment. He cooked you your favourite dish. He finished his portion and watched you eat, waiting for you to slide the plate over to him. He stared in shock when you brought the chopsticks with the last bite to your mouth, oblivious to Bakugo glaring at you with pure offence.
How could you do that? It was a ritual for him to finish your food for two years now. And you just broke it. How dare you.
You glanced at him in confusion when you noticed him staring at you like you committed a crime against humanity. You cocked your head in question. "What's wrong?"
"You ate the last bite."
"What about it?"
"What do you mean what's wrong? The last bite is supposed to be mine." He said as if it should have been obvious.
"Oh- that's what you're mad at." You stifled a laugh at the sight of your pouty boyfriend glaring at you. He huffed and took the empty dishes to the sink. You followed him, hugging him from the back.
"Sorry, Kats. I'll leave you the last bite next time."
"No. You finished your food. You deserve an award." You did not need to be facing him to know he rolled his eyes. 
"But clearly, I haven't gotten it yet." You poked his sides, trying to get a reaction out of him. "C'mon, stop being a baby."
"I'm not being a baby." He swatted your hand away.
"Yes, you are."
He sighed and gave you a peck on your lips, still grumpy. You smiled and hugged him again, looking up at him. "I'll give you my last bite next time. Promise."
"I'm going to steal it from you anyway."
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sourbinnie · 11 months
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☆ interrupted tenderness ☆
♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> a member walks in when you're having a moment, how do they react? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!
maknae line
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chan ✉
it wasn't often that you two got caught up in your own little world. you were mostly busy with work and that prevented you sometimes from actually being intimate with him, not really in a sexual way but leaning towards romance. chan really was an incredible boyfriend and supporting him through his journey was one of the best experiences you've ever had the pleasure to be a part of. so when you were in his dressing room as he got ready for his concert, you couldn't help but sigh as you looked at him.
"what's up?" he asked as he got closer to you and grabbed your hands. the sweet gesture of feeling your fingers intertwined. you didn't really know what to say, you were just daydreaming at this point because who wouldn't with a boyfriend like that?
"i just can't help but love you so much." you said as you looked at him eye to eye. you could see the happiness in his smile and then it disappeared as he leaned in for a kiss. you leaned in as well as you closed the gap to meet him and took his lips in yours.
"hyung? are you- i'm sorry, never mind!" jisung said as he opened and closed the door in a second. but then he opened it again to yell. "it's like seeing your parents kiss, never do that again."
the whole time chan couldn't help but look down embarrassed, he couldn't believe his kids' behavior sometimes. he leaned on your shoulder as he hid himself and you couldn't help but laugh the entire time, not feeling any shame at all. your boyfriend might be a shy little embarrassed ball but you loved him just like that. 
minho ✉
now he didn't really give a single fuck. he would steal kisses from you in front of the whole world without a care in the world. but sometimes he wished you two would have more private moments where he could actually show you the affection he craved so much to get in return. so when he finally got to be alone in the dorms, he invited you over and you two were laying on the couch just enjoying each other's company. you worked just like that at times where no words were said but it felt better than anything.
"i missed you (y/n)." he said as he got closer to you and laid his head on your lap. you stopped looking at your phone, leaving it to the side to bury your hands on his hair as you messed it up. "if you were anyone else, i would kill you right now."
"luckily it's me!" you said with a little giggle as you moved your hands from his hair to his face. grabbing his cheeks on your hands as you squished them. 
"if i did that to hyung, he would slaughter me." seungmin said from the kitchen and he got a death glare from minho. he really thought that the dorms were empty yet here he had one of his members looking at you two just now.
"not a word from you." minho said and seungmin did a gesture like he sealed his lips shut. you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction as you went back to bothering your boyfriend in the nicest way possible, of course. it's not like he could stop you anyways.
changbin ✉
now he wasn't really someone who got embarrassed easily. well at least that's what he liked to think, that he was just shameless especially with you. of course there were certain limits to the things you did in public but he couldn't resist you from time to time and he liked to show you off. you were his precious significant other for a reason and he wouldn't change you for anything. as he tried to come up with lyrics for one of his tracks, you were sitting in his lap and laying your head on his shoulder.
"are you comfortable?" changbin asked and you nodded, you were about to fall asleep at any moment so how could you not be comfortable? still changbin worried. it's like he needed to know all the time how you felt and that was very sweet of him.
"binnie you know we need to go home soon." you said as you kissed his cheek and that made him smile. he still got shy when you showed affection but that made you fall for him a little bit more each time.
"hey bin, are you done with the track? oh! sorry (y/n), didn't see you there." chan said as he got closer and saw you sitting on his member's lap. "i'll just go and we'll talk about it tomorrow changbin."
chan took a few steps back and then left with a little smile on his face. changbin knew that smile, it was more than happiness, he was proud. he truly did find the partner he wanted for the rest of his life and his bandmates knew that, you were a part of the family now and there was no turning back. 
hyunjin ✉
he was a sucker for showing his affection and love towards you everywhere. most of the time though he resisted and fought himself to not do it because he was scared that you would get sick of it. obviously you didn't and every chance you got to get closer to him, you would. he would appreciate your little love gestures for him but the displays of love in public would be the ones he remembered the most. like right now, he held you as he hugged you from behind and you felt so safe in his arms.
"thank you for coming by today." he whispered in my ear as you were standing in the set of one of his music videos. you just smiled as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes and his words always made your heart melt.
"you don't have to thank me, i always love visiting you." you said as he leaned in for a kiss. you couldn't help but feel yourself lost in the moment as you two kissed, totally forgetting where you were standing.
"hyunjin, (y/n), the children are watching!" felix said as he covered seungmin's eyes with one hand and jeongin's eyes with the other. you couldn't help but break the kiss off as you laughed.
hyunjin was so embarrassed but he didn't care as he met you for another kiss, shameless in his actions. earning a gasp from almost everyone on set but not caring about the eyes that were watching. he loved you so much and he didn't want to be ashamed of showing it anymore. 
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harrysfolklore · 9 days
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vogue beauty secrets - jacob elordi blurb
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
YN's Guide to Glowing Skin and Easy Everyday Makeup
"Hey everyone, It's YN," you said as you stood in your bathroom, face bare of any products and a comfortable top on, "I'm going to be talking you through my skincare routine and my everyday makeup look."
"Just so you guys know, it's really early over here," you said as you took out your products from your skincare bag, "My boyfriend is still sleeping I think," you smiled at the mention of him, "You might know him from his bathwater in the movie Saltburn, I don't know if you're familiar with that."
Playfully talking about each other in interviews was a really common thing for both of you and Jacob to do, and fans absolutely loved it.
"So first things first, gotta cleanse the face," you showed your cleanser to the camera and then applied it to your face smoothly and washed it off, "Now this face mask, has gotten me more compliments about my skin than anything else I've ever used, even Jacob is obsessed with it and steals it from me all the time," you couldn't help but mention him again, "So I will do a generous amount, which is like pea size for me."
You applied the face mask all over your face and waited 15 minutes to take it off and move on to your makeup.
"Before applying any makeup, we need to put sunscreen on," you showed the bottle to the camera, "I never leave the house without this, I have one in my bag at all times. It's so important."
You rubbed the product all over your face, making sure to cover every inch of your skin correctly.
"So, let's start," you grabbed your makeup bag and took your foundation out, "I'm obsessed with this illuminous silk foundation, I discovered one time I visited Jacob on the Euphoria set and I saw the makeup artists using it, it has been my go to ever since."
You grabbed your pink beauty blender and gently applied the foundation on your face, getting closer to the camera to show the process better.
"I learned how to do my makeup by watching how other people did it," you said as you applied the product on your nose, "I think I've gotten very good at it, or at least I would like to believe so."
"Now, It's time for concealer," you showed the product to the camera, "We're running low people, someone might be stealing some from me," you said as you tried to grab the most product you could and applied it under your eyes, "Okay, concealer is done, now let's do some contour."
Just as you grabbed your brush to apply the contour, you heard some noises coming from the bedroom, "Guys I think Jacob just woke up," you said as you moved the brush around your face, "So we have to be very quiet so he doesn't crash my video, okay?"
You heard the bedroom door open and some footsteps down the stairs, and you guessed that Jacob was looking for you in the kitchen.
"Alright, contour is done," you continued in a hushed tone, "Now, let's move on to blush." You picked up a peachy blush and lightly applied it to the apples of your cheeks, blending it out with your fingers. "I love this blush because it gives such a natural flush to the cheeks, perfect for everyday wear."
Next, you reached for a neutral eyeshadow palette and selected a soft brown shade. "For my everyday makeup look, I like to keep it simple on the eyes," you explained as you applied the eyeshadow to your lids, blending it into the crease. "Just a wash of color so I don't look completely dead."
"Now, for my favorite part - mascara," you exclaimed as you held up a mascara tube, "I think mascara is a game-changer. It instantly opens up your eyes and makes you look more awake."
You applied a few coats of mascara to your lashes, making sure to cover from the roots to the tips.
"YN?" you heard Jacob's voice calling for you, making you instantly laugh.
"I don't know if you guys heard, but Jacob is calling for me," you said as you checked your mascara in the mirror, "Let's ignore him until he figures out I'm here."
"Now, last but not least, lips," you said as you grabbed a nude lipstick. "I like to keep it natural with a nude shade for everyday wear." You applied the lipstick to your lips, finishing off the look.
Just on cue as you applied the last touched of lipstick, you heard the bedroom door creak open behind you. You turned around to see Jacob standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted him with a smile, trying to stifle a giggle at his sleepy state.
"Morning, love," Jacob blinked a few times, trying to wake up fully, "What are you up to?"
"I'm filming a skincare and makeup video for Vogue," you explained, motioning to the camera set up on the counter. "I was just finishing up, actually."
Jacob walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at the camera.
"Oh, am I interrupting?" he asked, glancing at the camera with a devilish grin.
"Just a little," you chuckled, "But it's okay, you can join if you want."
"Nah, I'll let you finish," Jacob leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "I'll just be in the background, quietly judging your makeup skills," he teased, earning a playful swat from you.
"Hey, I'll have you know, I've gotten pretty good at this," you said, pretending to be offended.
"I know, I know," Jacob laughed, planting another kiss on your cheek, "You always look beautiful, even without makeup," he said sweetly.
You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "Thank you, babe, you're really sappy," you replied softly, turning to give him a quick kiss.
"I'll let you finish your video. I'll make us some breakfast," he called out as he disappeared from view.
"Well, it looks like I've got breakfast waiting for me," you turned back to the camera, a smile still lingering on your lips, "I better wrap this up," you said to the camera, giving a little wave. "Thanks for watching, and thank you Vogue for having me, I hope some of this beauty tips are helpful for all of you. Bye!"
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adore-laur · 6 months
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SILENT TREATMENT
— harry being stubborn & regretting it
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——
"Where's Harry?" 
You swear he was in the room a mere second ago. As a matter of fact, you swear he was just standing next to you playing an intense game of ping-pong while wearing only his boxers and socks.
Harry has been childishly ignoring you for the past hour by hitting the hollow plastic ball back and forth with someone from the backstage crew in complete silence. You kept stealing glances at him, hoping his expressive eyes would reveal what was irking him, but he never acknowledged you. Based on pure assumption, he's mad at you. You think he's being a bit dramatic. 
"Not sure," answers the crew member with a shrug. "He left without saying anything." 
"Great," you reply, sighing in frustration. I'll go looking for him. 
You snatch your sweatshirt from the chair in the corner and head out on a mission. Harry can't be too far, but the unfamiliar venue with mazes of hallways and covert doors could make your search quite difficult. Thankfully, plenty of workers with recognizable shirts and lanyards roam around backstage, either pushing equipment carts or having muffled conversations with people through their walkie-talkies. 
You politely raise your hand to garner the attention of an older woman casually leaning against the wall. "Excuse me, have you seen Harry Styles anywhere?" 
Her hazel eyes narrow suspiciously. "Are you a fan? How did you get back here?" 
"No, no," you say quickly with a nervous laugh, taking your specialized lanyard out from the pocket of your jeans and showing it to her. "I'm his girlfriend, and I— well, I sort of lost him." 
She walks closer and squints at the laminated card with your name and picture printed. "You lost him?" 
Heat prickles up your neck and travels to your cheeks. "Um, he's quiet. Sneaks right past me all the time." 
The woman smiles faintly. "I'm sure he does." What the hell is that supposed to mean? "I think I saw him going to the private bathrooms in the back," she adds, hiking her thumb behind her shoulder. "Hey, tell him to stop walking around in his boxers, will ya?" 
"Sure thing," you reply distractedly with a nod, not fully comprehending what she said.
After wandering down the brightly lit hallway, you eventually reach the back area of his dressing room. The smooth walls turn into rough, white-painted bricks as the opening of the communal bathroom comes into view. There's still an hour until showtime, and you wonder what Harry could be doing there. Usually, he waits until right before he has to go on stage to get ready.
You find him standing in front of the sink, a plush robe wrapped around his sulking figure as he brushes his teeth with his lucky pink toothbrush. One look at his face tells you he's not in a good mood. 
Fights with Harry tend to be over petty things that are easily forgotten the next day. Joining him on tour has caused some lingering stress since what he does, as fun as it appears to be, is still strenuous when unpredictable mishaps can occur at any moment. You can't really remember what you said today that is making him blatantly ignore you. Maybe it has something to do with jet lag, or perhaps he's just being stubborn. Either is highly possible. 
"Hi," you mutter, looming next to him. 
Harry continues brushing his teeth while avoiding eye contact with you. The air smells of spearmint and his potent cologne, but it doesn't bring you the comfort it usually would due to the palpable tension currently clouding the air. 
"You're mad at me," you say plainly, drumming your fingers along your thigh. 
He leans over the sink and spits out the residual toothpaste, then inhales heavily, almost impatiently, as he picks up his mouthwash. He grants no response and twists open the cap, taking a short swig and swishing it around in his mouth. You rest your hip against the counter and impatiently cross your arms. It doesn't feel nice when he hasn't even so much as spoken a single word to you when you've been in close quarters for the past hour. 
Since when has the silent treatment ever solved anything? 
"If you're not going to speak to me, I think I'll just go hang out in the tour bus for the night," you say, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
Harry shrugs one shoulder without a care in the world, and you take it as your self-proclaimed cue to leave. You honestly don't have the patience or energy to start a one-sided argument right now, so with a disappointed hum, you begin walking away.
Your feet halt just before you turn the corner. "Have a good show," you mumble with burning sarcasm. 
Once you're out of his sight, you curl your fists by your head and grit your teeth, almost letting out a crazed laugh at his ridiculousness. You want to scream. He sometimes acts like such a kid, too arrogant to admit when he's sorry and too selfish to try and mend the issue before it builds into something bigger. It's terrifying to think it could become unfixable. 
After five minutes of asking around, you're led to the back parking lot, where the tour buses are lined up. The main one you ride in with Harry is guarded by two security guards. You lift your lanyard without uttering a word, and they immediately open the door.
You stomp up the stairs and throw your belongings onto the couch, trying to not let the simmering anger in your blood turn into an uncontrollable boil. No one else is around, so you shut all the interior lights off and climb into the tiny bunk bed you share with your stupidly stubborn boyfriend. The sheets are still crumpled, and his dirty socks lie by the edge. Everything smells like him, and for once, you wish it didn't. 
Exhaustion eventually kicks in, and you drift off to the distant sound of the crowd going wild inside the arena. 
——
"Psst." 
You jolt awake from the voice right next to your ear. Your hazy brain catches up to consciousness as you grumble a noise of protest. There's no need to open your eyes when you know whose body is causing the dip in the uncomfortable mattress. 
A shake is then given to your elbow. You jerk it back and hope he takes the hint. 
"Ow, bloody hell!" Harry whispers harshly. 
"Go away."
That was a bad idea. Instant regret. Harry responds by rolling on top of you, borderline knocking the air out of your lungs. You tiredly groan and push him off, his body falling next to you in the cramped space of the bunk. 
"Seriously, go away," you repeat, putting a pillow between you and him. "Stop sucking up to me and acting like everything's fine." 
Harry takes the pillow and flings it somewhere far. "Yeah, well, I don't appreciate you just leaving and not texting me your whereabouts. That scares me." 
You roll your eyes. "I told you where I'd be, yet you decided to give me the silent treatment." 
He ironically goes silent at the truth. 
"And," you continue, kicking his leg under the covers, "I don't appreciate it when you don't speak to me. It hurts." 
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, remorse leaking into his apology. I was being an idiot. I can't even remember what I was upset about." 
You slowly turn over to face him. "Me neither." 
He's freshly showered, the hood from his sweatshirt thrown over his damp hair. His face is slightly rosy from the recent steam, and his lips look remarkably soft in the minimal lighting. 
"I hated not seeing you in the crowd," he says quietly, glancing at your mouth. "It's my fault, but still... it wasn't the same without you." 
You lean forward and kiss his forehead, making a content hum vibrate in his throat. His legs intertwine with yours as he rubs under his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. 
"Please never stop talking to me," you whisper. "Even when you're annoying, I still like to listen to your voice." 
Harry smiles fondly and places his palm against yours, admiring the size difference. "You're my favorite person to talk to. Do you know that?" 
You feign a gag at his sappy statement, and he laughs before nuzzling his face into your neck and innocently tickling your sides. He eventually stops and wraps his arms around you, planting tender kisses on your exposed skin. 
His addictive scent consumes your senses, and you let yourself drown in it until sleep drapes over the both of you like a favorite childhood blanket.
——
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rynwritesreid · 2 months
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I am obsessed w Ryan Gosling wearing a necklace with his wife’s initials on it to the Barbie Premiere!!!! Can we see Spencer doing the same thing, maybe to the office or a team dinner ? 😍
A/N: this is such a cute idea, and if I am being honest this is defo something early to mid season Spencer would have done. Thank you for the request:)
Summary: it’s basically as requested. I have added in some detail about other women flirting with him and that’s why he decides to wear it, but he does still wear it to the office.
Content: fluff. Fem!reader. Other people flirt with Spencer, but he doesn’t reciprocate.
Masterlist| requests are open| navigation
Spencer was aware he got attention from other women; he knew he was attractive. He never flirted back, or really gave anyone else the time of day and he was very open with the fact he was in a very committed relationship with you. You were also not prone to jealousy, you didn’t really like other people trying to flirt with Spencer, but you understood he was an attractive and very intelligent man. 
Spencer though, he had become to hate it. He didn’t understand why people didn’t care he loved you, that he was in a relationship with you, and only wanted you. He, being the ever-intelligent man he is, had come up with a solution.
“Hey, I have something to show you.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a medium sized box. “Before you get too excited, this isn’t a ring. It’s a necklace with your initials on it.” 
“Are you going to wear that?” you asked with a smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest as you looked at the delicate necklace in Spencer's hand. The silver chain glinted under the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the window, and the initials intertwined beautifully, a testament to your bond.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I want everyone to know who my heart belongs too.” 
And with a tender smile, Spencer carefully fastened the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his warm skin. As it settled into place, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure.
"I love you," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want the whole world to know that you're mine."
*
The next day, Spencer turned up to work wearing the necklace. JJ was the first to notice, her eyes scanning the necklace, wondering why he had suddenly started wearing jewellery.
"What's that, Spence?" JJ asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Spencer smiled, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted the necklace instinctively.
"It's for Y/N," he replied proudly, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of determination. "I want everyone to know that she's the one I love."
JJ's gaze softened as she took in his words, understanding the significance of the gesture. She nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"That's sweet, Spencer," JJ said, her tone genuine. "I'm happy for you both."
Derek had overheard what JJ had said to Spencer, and while he also did think it was cute and he would never tell a man that wearing any jewellery wasn’t masculine, he still wanted to tease Spencer a little. 
"Hey Pretty Boy, since when did you become a fashion icon?" Derek teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Spencer's desk. Spencer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, used to Derek's playful banter.
“Oh, you think I’m a fashion icon because this, Derek?” Spencer grinned, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted the necklace once more. "Well, let's just say I'm setting a new trend."
Derek chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, Reid, if you say so. Just don't let Garcia catch you. She might think you're stealing her accessory game."
Spencer laughed at the thought of Garcia's reaction, imagining her excitement at seeing him embrace a new fashion statement. It felt good to have his friends' support and light-hearted teasing about his gesture towards you.
No one else seemed to care, Garcia had done a squeal of excitement when she saw the necklace and realised the initials were yours. But other than that, no one seemed to fuss over it.
*
Though he had noticed that he friends and colleagues didn’t seem to care about his necklace anymore, he had noticed how other women would interact with him. They seemed to glare at the two initials dangling around his neck and back off.
Spencer found himself almost amused by the reaction of the women who used to flirt with him. Their glares held a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if his simple act of wearing a necklace had somehow dashed their hopes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their reactions, knowing that he was making it clear to everyone where his heart truly belonged.
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blackbird-brewster · 1 month
Text
Highlights from Catherine Tate's Q&A Panel at Armageddon Expo 2024 (NZ) :
[I took notes best I could during the panel but some may be paraphrased]
Q: What's your favourite Doctor Who alien?
CT: The wonderful Ood!
Q: Who's your favourite Doctor? (Crowd gasps in anticipation)
CT: Well, I get asked this a lot, and obviously it's David (Tennant). I don't know what number he is, he keeps coming back. But definitely, David. Although, someone recently pointed out that I was technically the first ever female Doctor. So you know what? Me, I'm my favourite Doctor.
Q: What's your favourite episode you were in of Doctor Who?
CT:The Runaway Bride, because that's where it all began.
Q: What's a favourite memory of working with David Tennant on Doctor Who?
CT: The scene in 'Partners in Crime', the one with the Adipose, there's the scene where Donna and the Doctor see each other from across a room. But they're both behind glass and they have the whole mime scene with the windows. Well, I remember it was about 3am when we were filming that - - Russel really likes to film at night if the story is taking place at night - so it was 3am, and I said to the director 'Uh, right here it just says Donna Mimes' and he said 'Yeah do whatever'.
So that whole scene was ad-lib during shooting and David and I were so in sync with it, we did that first take and the director said cut and print!
Q: How emotional were you filming your final scene in Journey's End?
CT: So, we didn't always film in order. And I'm not really a sentimental person, but I will say I thought Donna's ending was absolutely perfect. When she meets the Doctor she was always yelling at the world, and she was so different than what she was by the end, she had so much growth with the Doctor and she changed so much in her time with him, but then, she forgets the him and all those memories. And that final scene, what really got me was how he says 'Donna, I'm off' and she's just, I think she's on the phone, and she just waves dismissively. She doesn't know him anymore. Russell, the way he ties things together, he's brilliant, that man.
Q: What was it like working with Bernard (Cribbins)?
CT: Oh, Bernard. God, I love him. He was so funny and talented. He always had stories and voices and sound effects. He loved making people laugh. But we had a gag where every single time I called him I'd say (Donna Voice) 'GRANDAD!'
He'd say, "Who is this?"
"It's Catherine."
"Catherine who?"
"Catherine Tate"
"Never heard of her."
We did this every time I called him and I loved it.
Q: Is there anything annoying about working with David Tennant?
CT: No, absolutely not. He's perfect. He's the best person to work with. I will say though, I was annoying him a lot. When we did the 60th Anniversary specials, our trailers looked exactly the same and I never knew where my trailer was. I'd walk into his all the time!
Sometimes I'd walk in and see his shoes in the trailer and instead of thinking 'Oops, wrong trailer', my brain went 'What's he gone and left his shoes in my trailer for?'
It got so bad, sometimes I'd walk up the stairs and from inside I'd hear 'NO.'
Q: Was it weird coming back to play Donna after all these years? Especially when it was along side David Tennant?
CT: It was a bit weird, more in the 'Oh I hope i still know how to do this' way than anything. But I did think it would be hilarious if David and I arrived on set and every take we just did completely wrong voices. Just thought it'd be hilarious for him to go (in an airy upper-crust British accent) 'Ohhhh, hellloooo. I'm the Doctor'
Q: If you could take any prop from set, what would you take?
CT: Ohhhh, I'd have very large pockets and see what I could fit. But mostly I think it'd be a sonic screwdriver. It's gotta be a sonic screwdriver, doesn't it? It's small and mobile... Easy to steal. Plus, it'd fetch a great price on Ebay!
Q: Best show you've ever worked on?
CT: The Office, they paid me tons of money.
Q: My mum loves David Tennant, is there something you can say to dissuade her?
CT: Hm, something to convince her he's not.... Oh, he doesn't believe in astrology! I'll say 'It's Mercury Retrograde' and he'll say 'NO, NO, NO I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT'.
Other Highlights:
As soon as she came out, she saw the stage had no steps to the audience, so she stayed on mic and went the long way round to go into the audience and interview people, trying to find who had traveled the furthest to be here. She was sorely disappointed everyone was just from Aotearoa 🤣
Donna Lines She Performed:
"Oi Spaceman! You're not mating with me sunshine!" (Crowd went wild for that)
"Binary. Binary. Binary." (🥺)
She did some of her characters: Lauren Cooper mostly, but also wished someone Happy birthday as Nan
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pinkie-pop · 2 months
Text
"I Have Something To Tell You."
Part I Part II Part III
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Yandere Genshn Impact, non religious SAGAU, Yandere Fatui Harbingers
Word count: 4k
Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, brief mention of experimentation, Scaramouche gets a new name, he's also really annoying, solving problems with violence
Synopsis: After killing yourself and landing in the world of Genshin Impact, you reflect on all that has gone wrong.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Two weeks.
You have two weeks before Dottore’s experiments start (you suppose even his apparent fondness for you has its limits), two weeks to make a case for yourself and prove to Scaramouche that you're worth saving. 
“What about him? I don't have time for idle chatter, you know. Spit it out.” 
You take a deep, shuddering breath. You hope this goes well. 
“Well…”
Every second seems to stretch on for a millennium. The silence is deafening, though you can feel your heart beating so rapidly you're surprised you can't hear it.
“...And this information is reliable?” He says at last. You nod. Contrary to your expectations, Scaramouche simply sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I assume you have a reason for telling me this now of all times. What do you want?”
“Freedom,” you say. He quirks his eyebrow, so you continue. “This place is suffocating. Let's run away together. To Sumeru.”
“Together?” There's an unreadable expression on his face, but you’re far too focused on convincing him to pay it any mind.
“Yes. Unless you want to stay here, even after learning the truth?” 
“No.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if in contemplation. “Alright. Pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn.”
“Tomorrow?!” 
“Is that a problem?” You stare at him with wide eyes. “Close your mouth,” he says. You do.
“Don't we need time to prepare? A plan? Something? Anything?”
“What, you don't trust me?” He mocks. “It's fine. I'm sure you'll figure something out.” Your jaw drops to the floor. “Figure it out”? Is he insane? And he's leaving it all up to you? You gawk at him, but he merely shoos you away from his chambers. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
True to his word, Scaramouche (you suppose his name will be changing soon) picks you up at dawn. You brought nothing but the clothes on your back, some mora, and some jewelry that looked expensive. It’s precisely 4:44 AM when you both exit the palace, careful not to be seen by any guards or servants. You stifle a yawn, having been up all night concocting a plan for the escape. 
Think, brain, think. 
You have to come up with an executable plan by tonight. You can't think straight. Even writing your own suicide note didn't take this much brainpower.
Wait…that's it. 
Hurriedly, you grab a pen and paper from your writing desk and get to work. Through writing, you explain that you and Scaramouche have become star-crossed lovers. You know the other Harbingers would not accept your union, and so you've left the palace together to act out a suicide pact. Don’t bother looking for your bodies, you said, as you'd be throwing yourselves into the ocean. Carefully, you seal the envelope and place it under your pillow. Scaramouche said he’d handle getting you out of the palace, so you don’t have to worry on that end, but getting caught after the fact still falls on you to figure out. 
Luckily, you already have an idea or two.
Just like in your letter, the two of you head to the ocean first. It’s still early, so many boats are left unmanned in the docks. Stealing a simple paddle boat is easy enough, but it dawns on you that you have no idea how to get to Sumeru. 
“What is it?” Scaramouche asks, seeming to sense your hesitance. 
“I…don’t actually know how to get to Sumeru from here.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes. 
“Seriously? Is that head of yours just for show?”
“Hey! At least I have a plan. You just dumped this whole thing on me!”
“It was your idea,” he retorts. You groan.
“Whatever. Let’s just go in one direction until we hit land, I guess. We’ll figure the rest out from there.” With that, you and Scaramouche work together in silence to untie a boat from its tether and board it. It only takes about an hour of rowing before your arms begin to ache, but you push through the pain, too prideful to ask Scaramouche to take over. By your third hour, your arms feel like they’re about to fall off, and your rowing has slowed significantly. Wordlessly, Scaramouche takes the ores from your weary hands and takes over the rowing. That’s strange…why didn’t he tease you? Shouldn’t he have at least called you weak or useless?
“What?” He asks, voice gruff.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you say, realizing you’d been staring. “Sorry.” 
“Hmph.” He turns away with a huff. You might be imagining it, but you could have sworn his ears turned just the tiniest bit red.
Finally, the two of you reach shore. It looks…oddly familiar. 
“Oh!” You say, clapping your hands together. Scaramouche jumps, but you pay him no mind (If you had paid attention, however, you would undoubtedly have noticed that jumping implies his guard was down—something that seems very out of character for someone like him). “I know where we are!”
“Where?” He asks, looking somewhat annoyed (though that could just be his face).
“The beach!” You say.
“...Seriously?” Realizing how silly that sounded, your face heats up.
“The beach,” you say. “The one from the tutorial.”
“The what?”
“Forget it. We’re in the east end of Mondstadt. I can take us to Sumeru from here.” The route is pretty straightforward, so you should have no trouble getting there. You lead the way, passing through the whispering woods, past Mondstadt city, Springvale, and then Dawn Winery. After about two hours of walking, you’ve already made it to Liyue. 
“Tired yet?” Scaramouche asks. 
“Not even a little,” you reply. 
You walk from Stonegate to Dihua Marsh, then pass Wangshu Inn and the Guili Planes. Finally, you’ve reached Liyue Harbor, where you and Scaramouche stop to get food and rest.
“Do you think you’ll change your name?” You ask in between bites. 
“Where’s that coming from?”
“I just figured you wouldn’t want to use Scaramouche anymore. Considering the whole Dottore situation and all. Plus,” you say, pausing to take a chew. “We’re on the run right now. A Harbinger’s name might draw attention.”
“Pick one for me, then.”  
“How about ‘Hat Guy’?” You ask, stifling a laugh. He huffs.
“Forget it.” 
“What about Kuni?”
“No.”
“Kuzushi?”
“No.”
“Kuku?”
“Are you even trying?”
“You insult me,” you say with a grin.”Well, if we’re going to Sumeru, maybe we should pick a Sumerian name? What do you think about Arasay?” 
“That…isn’t terrible.”
“High praise.” You decide not to tell him that ‘Arasay’ is really just ‘Scara’ in pig Latin, missing a letter. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I…um, think I’m from the future?”
“What?”
“Uh, let me start over and walk you through my train of thought. So, in my world, the way I interact with this world is through a medium called a computer. This computer allows me to take limited control of the Traveler and his associates, make them stronger, stuff like that. Are you with me so far?”
“Yes. Are you going somewhere with this?”
“I just said I was walking you through my train of thought. Have some patience will you?” From Arasay’s smirk, you can tell he was only messing with you. “Ugh, you’re the worst. Anyway, the computer gives me insight on important events that happen to the traveler. The thing is, though, some of those events haven’t actually happened yet. Like, let me ask you this: what was the last major thing that the Traveler did?”
“He defeated Stormterror not long after you got here.”
“After I got here?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Yeah, actually. It’s a huge problem.” You bury your face in your hands, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your situation. 
“Care to enlighten me?” Arasay asks, seeming annoyed (though, really, that seems to just be his default state). 
“So, it’s- I- Ugh.” You let your head fall onto the table. Quickly, you raise your head and look up at your companion. “How do you know about me?”
“You possessed one of my colleagues.” 
“Except I didn’t.” You lean in closer to him, nearly face-to-face.
“What do you mean?”
“Tartaglia hasn’t met the Traveler yet, and I didn’t take control over him until after he met the Traveler. So, let me ask you again: how do you know about me?”
“Agh!” Arasay grabs at his head, a pained expression on his face. You leap to your feet and rush over to his side, your hands floating mere inches from him, as if you’re worried he’ll shatter with the smallest touch. “My…my head!” He says, clutching his hair between his fists. He convulses, then slumps over.
“Arasay? Arasay!” You shake him, desperately trying to rouse him to no avail. “Arasay!” You cry. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, nearly slumping over.
“That scared me,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay now? You aren’t just saying it out of pride?”
“Your concern disgusts me,” he says, hiding his face behind his hat. You know he’s lying: the tips of his ears are pink. After composing himself, he lets go of his hat and faces you. “I-”
“Hey-” 
You both look at each other. Arasay sighs. “You go first,” he says.
“I think you should ditch the hat.”
“What?”
“It draws too much attention. We don’t want rumors about the hat guy and his companion floating around so soon after we ran off, do we?” Arasay sighs again, louder this time. 
“Fine,” he says taking his hat off and placing it to his side. “Happy?”
“You look naked.” He gives you the stink eye. “Sorry, sorry. You look fine. We’ll get you a new hat when we get to Sumeru. Maybe a less flashy one?” 
“Whatever.”
“You had something you wanted to say, too, right?” He nods.
“I had a dream,” he starts, looking off in the distance. “It happened when I passed out. In it, I saw the timeline you described. I remembered meeting the Traveler, fighting him, joining him, getting my vision-” Arasay unclenches his fist, turning his hand over to reveal what you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. A shiny blue vision, encased in a Sumerian sheath. “I remembered everything.”
You stare at him, mouth agape. “Interesting,” you say, a million thoughts racing through your head. 
“I think I know what we need to do next.”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
When you finish eating, you leave the harbor and head to the Chasm, where you bribe the two guards to let you in. Navigating the Chasm is a little tricky, as it’s an area you haven’t spent much time in, but through sheer luck and some educated guessing, you manage to find your way to Cinnabar Cliff. 
Finally, you’re in Sumeru. It took three hours of rowing and five of walking, but you finally made it. As the sun sets over the horizon, you breathe out a sigh of relief. You’ve made it. 
“We’re here,” Arasay says. “What now?”
“Now we go to Gandharva village,” you say, confidently taking a step forwards. As the two of you travel down the path, you spot an Aranara out of the corner of your eye. Though you’d like to go up and befriend it, it disappears before you can even get a good look. You continue walking, lost in your own thoughts when Arasay grabs you. You jolt to attention, quickly realizing that you were about two steps from waking right into a withering zone. Right, you had forgotten about these.
“Watch it,” he says. 
“Should we just go around?” You ask, looking over to your companion. He shakes his head. 
“Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” You’re surprised by how quickly and efficiently he fights off the monsters and clears out the area. You knew he was strong from playing the game, of course, but something about seeing it in action is different. It’s amazing, really. “Don’t tell me you’re impressed by only this much,” he says. You glare at him. 
“Not at all,” you say, walking past him. You pause, briefly forgetting your frustration and remembering your manners. “Thanks, though.” As you continue down the path, you spot a familiar tuff of green hair and call out to it. 
“Collei!” You cry, running over to her. Collie jumps, looking up at you with a confused smile. 
“Do…do I know you?” She asks. You freeze. Whoops. You forgot she doesn’t know who you are. 
“Ah- sorry! Let me introduce myself. I’m [Name], the Player—which is how I knew your name. If you want me to prove it, I can-”
“No, I believe you,” she says firmly.
“You do?”
“Uh, well,” Collei folds her hands together, looking a bit bashful. “It was a little weird, but I felt like I knew you the moment I saw you, even though I was sure I’d never seen you in my life. Your presence was…familiar to me. It…felt like home. A-anyway, that’s how I recognized you! But, um, what are you doing here? And, um, who’s your friend?” 
“‘Friend’ is pushing it,” Arasay huffs. You sigh dramatically, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you drape yourself over him. 
“Soulmate, then,” you say, smiling. “Love of my life, the apple of my eye?” Arasay pushes you off of him, and you fall to the ground, your laughing only intensified by the bright pink of his cheeks. Collei looks between you two awkwardly. 
“Arasay,” he says to her, helping you up off the ground. “And the reason we’re here is because-”
“Let’s go to the village first,” you say. “We need to speak to your master, too.”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“So you need a place to stay for the night?” Tighnari asks, looking between you two. You nod. 
“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. 
“Not at all,” he says. “You two can stay with me.” 
“Um, Master,” Collei pipes up. “if it’s okay, I’d like to be the one to host the Player in my hut.” Tighnari looks her up and down, as if sizing her up in his mind.
“I’m sure the player would be more comfortable in my hut,” he says, his ear flicking. “You can take their friend.”
“But—!”
“Collei,” Tighnari says in a warning tone. “Don’t push yourself. I’m sure the Player wouldn’t want you stretching yourself thin over them, right? Don’t forget that you’re still ill.” Collei nods, looking dejected, so you offer her a small smile for comfort. This seems to cheer her up a bit, but she still looks disheartened. The way they’re fighting over you reminds you of being with the Fatui. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” you say. Arasay looks like he has something to say to you, but you avoid his stare until Collei drags him over to her hut. You and Tighnari begin to settle in for the night. It’s clear from the way his gaze continues to travel back to you that he has something he wants to say. You ignore him, though, far too exhausted to try and humor him.
Soon enough, morning arrives. You ask Tighnari to accompany you and Arasay to Sumeru city.
“You’re going to the city?” Tighnari’s ears perk up. “What do you need there?”
“People,” you say. Tighnari looks over to Arasay, who simply shrugs and gets ready to depart. 
The three of you make it to the city, where the guards stop and hand you an Akasha Terminal. You thank them and put it on, keeping it there for a grand total of three and a half steps until the guards stop looking, and you pocket the thing immediately. 
“Where to?” Arasay pipes up.
“The Akademiya. We need to pick up Cyno and Alhaitham.”
“Cyno I know, but I’ve never heard of this Alhaitham before,” Tighnari says. “Who is he?”
“The Scribe. I don’t know where his office is, though.” 
“Cyno might know. And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can find out.”
“I just hope he’s not busy,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. You keep walking, and in the few seconds you have your eyes off the road, you manage to crash into someone. You and the other person fall to the ground, with you clutching the arm you accidentally hit. 
“Watch where you’re going,” Arasay scolds. 
“Sorry, I-”
“Not you. Her,” he says, glaring daggers at the lady you knocked into. Tighnari helps you up, and you help the lady to her feet. As you do, you notice her arms are covered in bandages. One happens to be loose, and you can see dark purple scales poking out from underneath. 
“...Dunyarzad?” You say, nearly holding your breath.
“Yes?” She asks, looking confused. “Do I know you?”
“Yes! No! Um, maybe…?”
“Huh…?” With exceptional timing, Dehya arrives on the scene.
“Dehya!” 
“Do I know you…?” You chuckle. You feel like you’ve been hearing that a lot lately. 
“So…” Briefly, you explain who you are. 
“Can you take accountability for your words?” Dehya asks, eyes narrowing. 
“I can,” you say confidently. “But first, can you come with me? I only want to prove myself once, and there are still some other people I want to see.”
“And now you’re giving me orders? The Player has been missing for weeks. Do you think I’m stupid?” She asks, stepping closer to you. Arasay blocks her from coming any closer, and you can practically feel the animosity in the air. “Even if I did believe you, I can’t just abandon my post like that.”
“That’s enough, Dehya,” says Dunyarzad, walking between you and her.
“My lady…?”
“I believe them,” she says. “I want to listen to whatever they have to say.”
“But-”
“That’s an order.” Her tone is final, leaving no room for further argument. You look at her, impressed by her firmness, to which she returns your gaze with a smile. Dehya sighs, gesturing for you to take the lead. 
You lead your party of four (five, including yourself) to the Akademiya, where you’re met with several stares from the students. It’s clear that your odd group doesn’t quite belong here, but perhaps due to the ferocious gaze of Dehya and Arasay, no one dares to say anything. Tighnari leads you to Cyno’s office, where he’s chatting with one of his subordinates. He quirks an eyebrow at your arrival but otherwise ignores you until he’s finished talking. The guard leaves, and Cyno turns to Tighnari. You briefly explain that you’re looking for him and the Scribe, and Tighnari vouches for your trustworthiness. That seems to be all Cyno needs, as he doesn’t ask any further questions and simply leads you to Althaitham’s office.
You knock on the door. 
“Come in,” calls a familiar voice. You open the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Player?” he says, barely glancing up from his paperwork.
You’re floored. “How did you—?”
“How could I not? I’d have to be a fool not to recognize you,” He says, putting his pen down. Dehya bristles, but doesn’t say anything. Alhaitham rises from his seat and beckons you all inside. Once the door is closed, he continues. “Now, then. I take it you have some matter of great importance you want my help with?”
“Yes! So, here’s the the thing...” 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“You’re…going to rescue the Dendro Archon…?” Everyone gapes at you. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You laugh nervously. 
“Yes! But, um, only if you’re willing to help me. I can’t do it on my own,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“How would you even…?” Dunyarzad murmurs, looking dazed.
“Before I answer that, there’s something else I need to tell you about. You, uh, may want to sit down for this.” Everyone raises an eyebrow, but no one moves to sit. “Please,” you say. Sighing, Tighnari takes a seat on the floor. Cyno joins him soon after. Soon, everyone save for yourself and Arasay have seated themselves, and you begin. 
“How do you know about me?” You ask, looking around. Your gaze settles on Tighnari. 
“We’ve all felt your presence,” he says tentatively, as if worried that may be the wrong answer.
“How?”
“You’ve taken control of several of us,” Cyno says. “And we’ve felt your gaze through the Traveler as well.”
“Aha!” Several people look startled by your exclamation, but you pay them no mind. “That’s wrong. The Traveler never came to Sumeru. You couldn’t have possibly felt me from them. Not to mention, I never took control over any of you before I got to Sumeru,” you say, looking over at them triumphantly.
“What are you…?”
“You shouldn’t know about me,” you say. One by one, you watch with victory as everyone begins to clutch at their heads and lean over. By the time the first one passes out, you’re glad you had the foresight to ask them to sit for this.
You wait for everyone to recover, which thankfully doesn’t take long. “So,” you say, looking over everyone’s faces to make sure they’re lucid. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to reuse your and the Traveler’s plan to free the Dendro Archon.”
“The plan took place on Jnagarbha day,” Alhaitham says. “To fully recreate the plan, we’d have to wait months until-” 
“Forget that,” Arasay says. “The real problem is the Grand Sage, right? He’s the one keeping Buer locked up. Just take him out. Problem solved.” Everyone goes quiet. What an…unexpectedly brutal solution. Though you suppose he is a former Harbinger.
 “Can…can we do that?”
Come to think of it…there are a lot less variables involved now than there were in the original story. The Traveler had to deal with Dottore and Scaramouche, but ‘Scaramouche’ is on your side now, and Dottore is still in Sneznaya. Maybe you don’t have to come up with some big, convoluted plan to take down the Akademiya. Maybe you really can just solve your problems with violence. 
“Okay, let’s do it.” Everyone gapes at you, but you hold firm. “When should we start?”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Taking out the Grand Sage was pretty easy. All you had to do was walk into his office and knock him out. From there, you just went up to the Sanctuary of Surathana, once again knocking out whoever stood in your way. 
Finally, you’re here. You can see Nahida sleeping in the giant meditation chamber. You’re so close to freedom that you can practically taste it. But first… 
“Um, so…does anyone know how to deactivate this thing?” You ask sheepishly.
Alhaitham steps up, walking to some mechanism in front of the chamber. He messes with it for a few minutes before the chamber opens up. 
Nahida opens her eyes.
“What’s going on?” 
“I’d like to speak with you alone, if that’s alright,” you say, stepping forward. You glance back at your friends (can you call them that now?). You feel pretty bad about dragging them here just to kick them out, but what you’re about to say needs to remain confidential. Everyone except for Arasay leaves to wait outside. Once you’re sure they’re gone, you begin to explain your situation. You tell Nahida about how you got here, why you left Snezhnaya, and why you saved her. You tell her you’ll help her save Sumeru from forbidden knowledge if she hosts and protects you and Arasay in exchange. Additionally, you promise to her that Arasay will give her special knowledge about the ‘sky’ if she promises not to hand her gnosis to the Fatui. Arasay nearly protests at the mention of this, but one pleading look is all it takes to shut him up. Finally, you finish your story. “Please help us,” you say.
"Okay," she says.
Taglist: @Mmeatt @Shikanosn @Sangoqueenkoko @Vianitry @Lacedribbns @Springkuinn @Clavichordcleffa @starshinesama @kamit-frog @agaygothicmushroom @ash1
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me-loving-woso · 9 months
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Bruises, Apologies and Cookies?
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You already know the drill. I don't know what this is. It took me a month to do it and it's not proofread. It's 17k and you have to imagine this as an AU in which Jorge Vilda is not the coach of Spain, but it's in therapy for his misogynistic tendencies and anger issues, and the Italian national team is actually a good team. I really hope you enjoy this.
Prompt: You start to hook up with Alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another. (I'm bad at summaries.)
Here is Part 2
-
You were traveling to Barcelona today.
Your team and the Barca team had organized the game for the Gamper trophy, and you couldn’t wait to play against your dream team. Barcelona and Chelsea have always been the team you supported when you were young, even though you were neither Spanish nor English.
You have always loved playing football since you were little. And the fact that you were raised in Italy and were Italian, one of the best countries to experience football, made your love for the sport grow even more. But you knew you couldn’t go far in your country because women’s soccer wasn’t very developed in Italy, so as soon as possible, you decided to leave for the US. There, you studied to become a physiotherapist and played ‘soccer.’
You weren’t known for your speed or physicality but your football IQ and passes. At first, your coach put you as a striker, but then he soon realized that scoring wasn’t your forte. But when one of your teammates in midfield got injured, your coach put you as a defensive midfielder, and the rest was history.
You would control the midfield and give confidence and calmness to the defenders and midfielders; you had a style that reminded people of Busquets.
In college, you met your best friend, who was also Italian. She was your number 1 supporter; she would always come to your games, cheer for you, and support you even when you transferred to your first real club, Atletico Madrid. 
To the world, you were known as one of the cleanest players in La Liga, your timing was always perfect when you tackled someone, and you were able to anticipate the player’s moves so well that, in most cases, you didn’t even have to tackle them, you would snatch the ball away from them before they could pass it to someone else.
This made you one of the only players to never receive a yellow card for a foul. You only received one when you took off your shirt for scoring the winning goal for the Copa de la Reina.
After two outstanding seasons at Atletico, Chelsea called you, but not even after a year did you send in a transfer request, which you never did; you always waited for your contract to finish.
After a disastrous year at Chelsea, you wanted to go back home to Italy, and two clubs from your country showed interest. Roma and Juventus. You never supported Juventus as a child, so the decision was a no-brainer for you. You were back home, playing for a great team and sharing the pitch with your friends from the national team. You signed a contract until 2024, and you would respect it, even though you received many offers from other clubs, one in particular being Barcelona. But whenever the coach of Barca called, you told him about your wish to finish the season with Roma; they respected your decision and said they would try to get you during the summer window.
-
This left you playing the Joan Gamper trophy against your dream team, and you got the impossible task of marking Alexia Putellas. It was the first time that you were playing against her. Over the years, you had the opportunity to play against her, but between injuries or other stuff, you never managed to do that. So you were looking forward to it. 
During the warm-up, you found yourself stealing glances at her; she was even more beautiful in real life. As you saw her train, you tried to find a way in which you could stop her. She was quick, physical, and loved going deep. So the only way to possibly stop her was to anticipate her and not let the ball go over you to her or stop her before she could pass you. You loved a good challenge.
As soon as the game started, Barcelona came at your defense hard, but you wouldn’t let the ball go past you. As soon as you had the ball, you would pass it to one of your teammates or opt for a long pass if your number 9 was free.
Even though you were extremely clean in your tackles and respectful, you were famous for cursing in Italian whenever you had to run; you hated running, and whenever you would recover a ball, you would subtly celebrate in your opponent’s face. You were very competitive in that sense, and you knew that not many opponents went past you, so this furthered, even more, your competitiveness.
In the first minutes of the game, as you analyzed your opponent’s playing style, you realized nobody would dare to move the ball through the center; they knew they wouldn’t get past you, and you smirked at that realization.
The first time you had to mark Alexia was an offside kick for Barcelona; you shielded her with your hands, not making her move. You were shorter than her; you reached her shoulders, so you knew she could physically overwhelm you well enough, so you had to find another way to stop her. She was brilliant when playing. She could see the spaces and know exactly where to place the ball to her teammates, so you knew that distracting her even a second would help you anticipate her and stop her from going forward. 
As she was trying to unmark herself from you, you wanted to distract her by talking in Spanish, “They always call you La Reina because of your skills, and now that I’ve seen you in action, I can confirm that you live up to that nickname.” She slightly blushes.
“It’s not bad having someone like you watching me destroy your team.” She pushes you slightly to show her teammates that she is free. “I must say, though, that you look pretty good out in the field.”
Now it’s your time to blush; you turn your head to face her quickly, turning your neck upwards to look at her hazel eyes, “Flattery won’t get you past me.” You wink. “But I won’t tell you to stop; I like where this is going.”
Her teammates kick the ball, which makes you both go back into game mode.
The second time you talked to her, it was during a corner. They were using her as a decoy to make your team change the positions on the corner kick, but you soon realized that, and you went to mark her “You know, I think I’m actually enjoying this game more because I’m playing against you.”
“Is that so? I’m glad you are enjoying this. But don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me.”
“Me? I would never distract you in any way!” You act offended, putting your hand on your heart.
“Then you are secretly trying to win my heart.” She smirks, taking her eyes off the ball and looking at yours.
“Well, if winning your heart gets me a victory on the field, consider it a strategic move.” You remark, grinning as you see the captain of the other team a fraction of a second distracted, making the ball perfectly fall into your feet.
With a calculated movement, you dribble past her while she gives you a shocked look and sends a perfect ball to your teammate, who starts the counterattack. Nobody was expecting that, so your number nine, Giacinti, ran all the length of the pitch without any dangerous opponents, leaving her only with Paños. She scored, and you were finally 1-1.
As soon as she scored, you could see that Alexia’s expression changed sorrowfully as she blamed herself for the goal while you screamed, running to your teammate who had just scored.
As soon as you get on your field to restart the match, you walk past her, and she shakes her head sarcastically, “I thought I was good at playing mind games, but you, you’re on a whole new level.”
She walked past you, “Mind games? Nah, I’m just enjoying the company of a certain someone on the field.” You remark innocently.
After 45 minutes of intense battle between you and Alexia, in which you basically won all of them, Alexia became increasingly irritated. She was getting more sloppy and aggressive, but you expected that, so whenever you had the ball or just snatched it from her, you would pass it to one of your teammates as soon as possible.
The first half of the game ended, and you returned to the dressing room. You were still on a draw, so you only needed a goal to shock Spain and win the Gamper trophy, which was your objective. So during the break, you strategized ways to score that damn goal. After the 15-minute break, you returned to the pitch and knew what to do.
Roma was starting the second half. Giacinti passed you the ball from the center of the pitch immediately after the whistle, and she began her run. You stopped the ball and kicked it high, precisely where she needed it. She had only to dribble past Ona Batlle to score and did it perfectly. 
For now, you were winning, and you could see that Barcelona was getting even more frustrated. They needed to win that trophy; it was their trophy. 
You again found yourself in the same position as the corner kick-off. Alexia was outside the area, and you were marking her again. “If you get past me, I’ll let you swap shirts.” You smirk arrogantly. 
“You’ll let me?” She chuckles ironically, not making the same mistake and, this time, focusing on the ball.
“Yes, I’ll let you.” You wink at her, putting your arm on her chest, trying to put yourself in front of her. You swear you could hear her heart beat a little faster.
“Are you sure you are okay? I swear I could hear your heart beat faster.” You tease her.
She blushes, forcefully removing your arm from her, “You are making it really hard for me to focus, and it’s not just because of the game.”
“Oh really? Maybe I’m just trying to give you a good reason to remember this match and me.”
“You wish.”
“Joking aside, do you wanna swap shirts after the match?” You quickly glance at her.
“You’ll get to see my shirt every day next season.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.
“Wait, you know?”
“Of course, I know; I was the one that suggested you to the coach.”
“Really?” You smile dumbly at her, a mistake nearly costing you a goal. She manages to get the ball and throws a beautiful cross, which thankfully was stopped by your defender Linari. You sigh in relief and get back to the game. 
The game was getting more and more aggressive as time was running out. You didn’t know how, but you were still winning. As you were waiting to intercept a long pass from your ex-teammate from Atletico, Mapi Leon, Alexia was trying to anticipate it.
You managed to quickly control the ball, and with your first touch, you passed it to Giugliano. Still, she didn’t see that you already had given the ball away because she raised her knee to try to control the ball, but there was no ball to control. Instead, she hit you where it would hurt the most: right on your groin. It hurt. It really hurt. You wouldn’t expect it to hurt that much when you were a girl, but it did hurt. So much so that you skipped a breath and mumbled in your mother language words that you wouldn’t repeat. The game was still ongoing, but you needed a minute, and Alexia noticed that. 
“Hey, are you okay?” She asks worriedly, putting your hand on your shoulder while you are crouching down.
“Alexia, you didn’t hit the ball. And you got a powerful leg, I must say.” You sit down on the grass, visibly in pain. Your captain, Bartoli, noticed that, and she soon stopped the game and went to you.
“Tutto bene?”
“Si mi serve solo un secondo, questa qui- pointing to Alexia- mi ha dato un calcio.”
“Dove?”
“Nella figa,” You say, putting your hands over your head while your skipper laughs.
“Cazzo ti ridi.” You say, laughing too at the situation. Then, some of your teammates swarmed you, pushing Alexia away, who took a step back embarrassingly.
As your skipper told everyone what happened, some other teammates started laughing, making the tension of the match crack. You show the finger to all the teammates who laughed at you, still in pain. 
“Riesci ad andare avanti?” The defender asks you, trying to keep a straight face.
“Si, si dammi solo un minuto, andate pure.” Your teammates slowly return to their positions, and Alexia approaches you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” She gives out a hand for you to grab to help you stand up to your feet.
“Don’t worry about it. It has always been a dream of mine for a hot woman to hit me on the groin.” You chuckle sarcastically, clearly not understanding what you have just said.
“You think I’m hot?” She grins while you clean off the dirt from your shirts.
“So not the point.” You say while returning back to your position. 
The match went on more fluidly, with your team more defending rather than attacking; you unconsciously avoided Alexia all game, swapping marks with one of your teammates for Aitana, which wasn’t at all that better, but at least she didn’t make you feel all hot and confused as the captain of the other team did. Eventually, you did lose the game, 3 to 2, but you thought this was a great way to begin the season.
As you went into the dressing room to get ready for a night out with your friend, you heard the cleats of a person behind you. You turn around, and your body winces, reminding you of the pain that you experienced earlier.
“Hey!” She walks up to you, still dressed from the match.
“Hey.” You reply awkwardly.
“Soo.” She crosses her arms and begins rocking her legs. “You said that if I got past you, you would swap shirts with me.” She smiles innocently, waiting for your reply.
“Well, that was before you made me lose the capacity to have children.” You say dramatically.
“Okay, that’s a little too dramatic. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I honestly thought that I was hitting the ball.” She says sorrowfully, looking down.
“Well, you didn’t.” You chuckle. Making her laugh.
“What were your teammates laughing about earlier?”
“I just told them what had happened. I would have laughed too if I wasn’t in so much pain.”
“Why would you? You were hurt!” She returns her gaze to you while you give her a shy smile.
“Well, you would laugh too if someone like Leo Messi would hit you in the groin like that. Even though I deeply doubt it.”
“So you think I’d have a future as a kickboxer?”
“Definitely.” You beam at her, clearly entranced by her. She was slightly biting her lips in an attempt to shy a smile; you thought to yourself that she had really gorgeous eyes. 
“So the jersey…” She suggests clearly understanding that you were slightly zoned out. You blush, a little embarrassed, and take off your shirt quickly, folding it, and then you hand it to her. 
“It’s a little dirty; I’m sorry.”
“You just ran on the pitch for over 90 minutes; you don’t have to apologize.” She takes it from you as her fingers lightly brush yours. What you noticed was that her hands were warm. It felt weird to you, as most people in your life had cold or sweaty hands, which you hated, but hers were different. They exuded this feeling of comfort that made you miss her touch as soon as she took the jersey from you.
You blink once, trying to return to the real world, waiting for her shirt. 
“Am I going back to Roma empty-handed?” You joke, while she was most definitely not looking at you in the eyes but more at your body, making you feel a little self-conscious.
“Oops, sorry.” She quickly removes her jersey, but as she is about to remove it, she stops, “Now this is embarrassing. I’m stuck.”
You chuckle, standing on your tippy toes, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please.” You raise your hands, take the hem of her shirt, and pull it up; as soon as her head is free, her eyes lock in with yours, making you gulp slightly at the intense eye contact, lowering your feet, clearly showing the prominent height difference.
“Thank you.” She whispers, never taking her eyes off you. Your mind was getting hazier for every blink of your eyes, and you felt your cheeks redden. You thought you needed to take a step back to recompose yourself and clear that haze in your brain, but something about how she looked at you made you not move for even an inch. “How long are you staying in Barcelona?”
“Tomorrow, we are leaving.” You tell her truthfully without thinking, nor blinking, for that matter.
“What are you doing tonight?” She asks you seriously, moving her gaze dangerously close to your lips.
“I’m going out with Mapi and some of your teammates. We wanted to catch up, and she wanted me to meet some of you guys and her girlfriend.” You say, never moving your gaze from her; you couldn’t.
“ISo we’ll see each other there. And after that?” Her expression exuded an energy that you couldn’t quite understand
“What?”
“What are you doing after that?” She speaks more clearly, enunciating every word.
“I’ll probably go back to the hotel and sleep.” You reply honestly.
“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” She asks shyly, softening her gaze a little.
You, dumb as you are, don’t get what she was suggesting, making you, for the first time, take your eyes off hers and look down, which uncoincidentally was her chest. Still, right now, it doesn’t concern you that much. “You don’t have to; I know it wasn’t on purpose.” You reply innocently.
What actually concerned you was how nonchalantly, with her index finger, she gently raised your chin, making you look at her again, making you want to giggle from the nervousness.
“Are you sure?” She smirks, clearly understanding the effect that she was having on you.
The following words were some of the most honest words that ever came out of your mouth. “No, I’m not sure.”
She chuckles, “Give me your phone.” She tells you rather than ask you, making you once again be sure about your sexuality.
“It’s in the locker room.”
“Go get it.” She instructs you while she leans against the wall, still shirtless. She clearly knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.
You reply with a short nod, and without saying anything, you walk to the dressing room, your body on autopilot, with your brain still not functioning correctly. You get in the locker room and are soon swarmed by your team congratulating you, but you only have a task in mind: get the phone to Alexia. So, after some short answers, you quickly return to the hallway, searching for the woman.
She had your shirt around your neck with her back on the wall and followed your movements with her eyes, never taking her gaze off you.
You put yourself in front of her, taking her hand from her sides and placing your phone. She turns on the phone and sees your lock screen; it is a picture of your dog. “Cute dog.” She comments while she hands you back the phone so you can type the password. Then you hand it back to her, and she puts her number in your phone.
“If you are not too tired after we go out for drinks with the team if you want, we can do something else later.” She gives you a soft smile, giving you back your phone.
“Something else like what?” You tease her; riling her up is becoming one of your favorite things.
“Anything you are up to.” Raising her eyebrows, you place your hand on her stomach, gently scratching her skin. She stiffens at the contact but then relaxes, giving you a soft smile.
“What makes you think I am going to say yes?” You once again tease her.
“By your willingness to give me your phone and your hand placement.” She smirks while you retract your hand from her almost unconsciously, feeling the heat of your slight embarrassment settle on your face.
She opens her legs to reach your height, and with a small tug, she makes you come closer to her. She takes you by your sides, gently stroking the skin with her thumb. You were rather small-built, and she had big hands, which you were modestly and unceremoniously obsessed about. Her sudden pull on her made you stumble slightly, making you place your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself.
“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you out tonight?” You gently massage the back of her neck while playing with her baby hair.
“I’ll let you know.” You remove yourself from her, already missing the contact, and return to your teammates, leaving her in the hallway.
As soon as you sit in your cubby, you open your phone to see if she isn’t lying and actually put her phone number in your contacts. She did. In style, you could say. She saved herself as Your Favourite Kickboxer ;). That woman had some nerve, you thought, but it made you chuckle in surprise a little too loud, which got the attention of some of your teammates. They began asking you why you took so long to return to the locker room or were smiling dumbly at your phone. You soon shut down any suggestive questions and went in for a shower, making your friends more and more curious.
As soon as you leave the locker room, you meet Mapi and her girlfriend outside the pitch; between hugs and greetings, you enter their car and begin driving to a local bar with them. But before entering the place, you cannot not bring yourself not to text the woman who had been on your mind since the beginning of the day.
‘So you are my favorite kickboxer?” ‘I must say you got some nerve. The first time we met, you kicked me in the groin, and then you already put the salt into the wound.’
‘I had to find a way to make you recognize me.’ She replies almost immediately
‘I don’t know many, Alexias.’
‘Where would the fun be if I only put my name on it?’
‘Fair enough. Now I have a place I need to be. I’ll see you later?’
‘And I have a dog to feed. Yes, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.’
You were ordering some drinks and food while most of her teammates came to the bar and introduced themselves to you. But you were only waiting for someone who made you feel more today than any other girl in the last couple of years. 
“So, what happened with Alexia during the match?” Patri, one of your friend’s teammates, asks you.
“Yeah! I thought it was something serious, but then I saw your teammates burst out laughing, so I didn’t worry too much. Alexia was mortified, though.” Mapi adds, making the conversations shift towards you, waiting for you to answer.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Oh no, she didn’t. She was very frustrated; you basically turned her into a beginner.” Your friend jokes, earning approval from her teammates, praising your skills.
So you tell them what happened, to make some wince, while your friend who has known you for years now releases a surprised chuckle.
“So that is why your teammates were laughing?”
“Yes, they are assholes. You too.” 
“I’m not laughing at you.” She reassures you. “Alexia has never been that clumsy; she must have been distracted.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.
“I wasn’t distracted; I just thought the ball was still in the air.” You see a figure approach your table, making many heads turn around to see their captain. Her aura made it evident that she was their leader. As if she had this mask on, which showed her subtle leadership, making you smirk thinking that earlier that day, when you saw glimpses of a different Alexia that probably they didn’t see.
“Good game today, Y/n right?” She extends her arm for you to shake her hand. You innocently take it, thinking that if she wanted to play the game that you were strangers and that literally two hours before didn’t grab you by your waist nor kept looking at your lips, you would comply and play her same game.
“Thank you, Alessia, right?”
“It’s Alexia.” She said, a little irritated, still keeping her hand in yours.
“Oh, sorry, you know me, still working on my Spanish.” You wink at her, with both of you knowing that you did that on purpose.
After your ‘introduction’ to Alexia, the team divided into little groups, making you sit with Mapi and Ingrid, who were the real reasons you were there, and Keira and Lucy, whom you had already met playing against them during your time at Chelsea.
“So when are you coming to Barcelona?” Your friends ask you excitedly.
“What makes you think I want you again as a teammate?” You tease her, making her face turn into a shocked expression. Making the other people at the table chuckle at your witty reply.
“Well, Barcelona has always been your dream. We were supposed to transfer together that year, but you abandoned me for Chelsea.” 
“And I still regret it to this day.” You smile sadly, playing with your food. The year you transferred to Chelsea was one of the worst years of your life; you hated talking about it. It nearly destroyed both your career and yourself. “But the past is in the past, and I still have a contract with Roma.”
“Which will expire in 2024…” Your friend suggests making your room your eyes playfully at her. Making her girlfriend give her a warning look.
“Yes. I am well aware of my contract obligations.”
“So, Y/n.” Ingrid tries to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you single? Boyfriend, OR girlfriend?” You see Alexia from across the bar subtly turn her attention towards your table, waiting for your answer, making you internally chuckle.
“Me? No. I got traumatized.” You laugh to not cry. It was still a sore spot for you; your previous relationship ended badly for you, and you would be lying if it didn't make you more adamant about beginning a new one.
You saw people give you a puzzled look, so you explained what you had just said, “I was in a relationship with this woman for more than four years, but then we ended terms badly. But now I’m great! I’m focusing on my career, and I have a dog, so I’m good!” You try to lighten up the mood; you would hate yourself if the mods of the people around you would change because of you.
“You have a dog?” Lucy asks you excitedly. You quickly take off your phone and show her your lock screen with a picture of Argo, your dog. The fact that you had a dog created a lot of attention towards you; the team swarmed your phone to see the picture, making you chuckle shyly at all the attention given to you.
As the night progressed, you and Alexia would often find each other’s eyes and would share a small smile, something that made you look forward to the next interaction that you would have with her.
You didn’t exactly know what was going on between the two of you; she was making you confused, but at the same time, she made your heart flutter whenever you caught her looking at you.
You didn’t know what it was about her tonight, but you thought she looked stunning. Maybe it was the fact that she wore this comfortableness to her actions that made you want to bask in her aura, or perhaps it was the fact that she wore her hair down, and you literally turned into a gay panic for any pretty girl. Realistically, it was more the latter option.
As many of the girls went home or went to get drinks, this left you the opportunity to be alone with Alexia for the first time in the night. When you sat beside her, she was checking something on her phone, and you decided to make the first move. 
“Hey.” You utter, almost whispering. She takes her eyes off her phone and smiles.
“Hey, you. Are you having fun with your future teammates?” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Everybody thinks I’ll become a Barça player, but what if instead I’ll become a Lyon player?” You joke, both knowing that you would never do that. “But yes, I’m having fun, even though there is someone who has been on my mind all evening.”
She looks around to see if anyone is watching your interactions and then leans closer.
“Oh really? Who is this person?” 
“Well, she is very tall, at least for me, and extremely stunning, and did I mention she has a really pretty smile? Oh, She has really beautiful eyes that, if you look closely enough, you can see some shades of green here and there. And, of course, she has a very powerful left leg.”
“I’ll let you know if I find her. For now, you are stuck with me.” 
“Too bad. I really wanted to ask her something.”
“What did you want to ask her?”
“Well, a question has been burning in my mind for the whole evening.”
“Which is?”
“Wouldn’t you want to know?” You tease her as Mapi and Ingrid come back to the table and begin a conversation with the both of you about her cat; then you hear the sound of your phone; you really hoped it wasn’t your coach wondering where you were.
You didn’t expect a text from the person in front of you.
Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)
‘Meet me in the bathroom’
You look at her, slightly puzzled, but she spurs you on with her eyes. She stands up from the table and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, thus beginning your thoughts on what justification to find to excuse herself from the table.
If you said that you had to go to the bathroom too, it felt like it would be weird, but if you threw a glass of water at yourself, it would be deemed as overdoing. Amid the panic, as you feel that time is running out, you do the second option and try accidentally throwing your glass of water on your hands. For your delusional mind, you thought that your plan actually worked perfectly, whereas for the other two people at the table, it just felt confusing and unnecessary.
You quickly go to the bathroom to dry your hands when you feel two hands sneak up on your waist from behind and perfume that is completely intoxicating you. You turn around with your hands leaning on the sink and finally see the woman consuming every fiber of your being just with her gaze. It was hungry, but at the same time, it transmitted this softness that totally fucked up your brain, not understanding clearly her intentions. But you didn’t care as of right now; that would be a problem for the future you. 
“Took you long enough.” She chuckles gently, caressing your clothed waist. 
“I had to find a way to excuse myself.” You put your hands on her shoulders, eliminating more space between the two of you, turning your lips in a soft grin when you saw her hunching a little her back to better look at you.
“Come home with me tonight.” She whispers earnestly while she slots her leg between yours, coming impossibly closer to you. Only a few inches divided you from her, her lips from yours. You didn’t drink that evening but felt utterly intoxicated by her. Everything about her made you want to throw caution out the window or, given the setting, down the sink.
You couldn’t speak. At least not something coherent, so you slowly nodded. Her lips were mere centimeters from yours, making you want so badly and so needily to close that unnecessary space and finally taste her. You thought she was reading your mind because your noses touched, making her wait for you to do the final step. 
You put your hand on her chest, “As much as I want to kiss you.” She released a low moan, making you shiver and forget your train of thought. “As much as I want to kiss you because I really do.” She lets her head fall over your shoulders, lightly kissing your neck, making a shiver course through your body, filling with goosebumps in the area. “We have friends to go back to.”
“Mmm mmm.” She goes back to kissing your neck, lightly pulling your hair to move your head to give her better access, which you obviously grant her.
“Alexia.” You warn her weakly. You were really enjoying what she was doing to you.
“Ten more seconds.” She muffles while she moves her hands all over your waist, shoulders, and back, trying to take you all in, not wanting to let go of the moment.
After at least half a minute, you warn her once again. “Alexia.”
You feel her inhale by the tickling on your neck that the air to her lungs was causing. She turns her head to look at you and then quickly pecks the corner of your lips.
“I’m done.” She quickly goes out of the bathroom, leaving you frozen in the spot recounting what just happened, still feeling her hands and lips on you.
You turn around to the sink and wash your face to sober up. It didn’t work. And you went back inside the bar.
Mapi was paying the check for her and Ingrid, “Oh hey. We are about to leave. Is it okay for you?”
“Oh, don’t worry. Alexia offered to bring me back to the hotel; she told me that she had to go that way to get to her house, so it would not be a problem for her. Plus, I know you live on the opposite side of where I’m staying.”
“Are you sure? Because for me, it’s not a problem.” She asks.
“I’m sure.” You reassure her. You saw Alexia getting her stuff and yours. “I’ll see you during National Break?” You tell her, hugging her tightly, that you missed being on the same team as her.
“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She advises you, making you subconsciously look at Alexia, who is talking to Ingrid.
“Me? Never.”
You go to Ingrid, hug her goodbye, and tell her it was a pleasure to have met her. Then Alexia hands you your stuff. And you go to her car together.
In the car, the air filled with a kind of tension that you couldn’t quite grasp. Less than eight hours ago, you didn’t even know each other, but somehow, the ride to her house wasn’t awkward. It was full of anticipation for what was about to come. “How long have you known Mapi?” She tries to break the silence, genuinely curious about how you know her friend and teammate.
“We played for Atletico Madrid together, became fast friends, and have been in contact ever since. It was true what she said; we were meant to transfer together in 2017. We loved playing together. But then life got in the way.”
“You know, it’s so weird that our teams have played so many times against each other, even in Champions League games or Euros, but today was the first time we actually played against each other.” She points out, never moving her eyes from the road.
“Well, look how it played out.” You joke. 
“I already apologized many times, actually. But I already told you I’ll make it up to you.” She smirks, placing her hand on your thigh, drawing little shapes on your jeans.
“I wonder how.” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the hand that is right now inching closer and closer to your center.
As soon as you get to her home, and as she opens the door to her house, you make her turn around to you, and you pin her against the door; with your hands on her muscular waist, keeping her there, you go on your tippy toes, and for the first time during the night, you kiss her. It was soft and made her understand how much you wanted this, almost reassuring. You could see that she was nervous during the car ride, and you wanted to take some of it away. Honestly, you were nervous, too.
You usually weren’t one for hookups; you’d always preferred to have something serious or nothing at all. But there was something about her that made you change that idea.
You knew it was wrong, that after that night, you would probably see her again on the pitch, and knowing what you were doing now would distract you. But she was there, looking beautiful as always, clinging to you, with her hands covering your cheeks, making the consequences worth it.
“That was definitely worth waiting for.” She chuckles, putting your foreheads together. “Let’s get inside.” She utters, almost whispering, taking you by the hand and bringing you inside her home. She closes the door and pushes you to the wall, covering your body with hers. Her hands were roaming everywhere as she brought you into a searing kiss. Her perfume intoxicated your nostrils, and all your senses had become her. You lose yourself in her sensations as she picks you up from the ground as if you weighed nothing, and you wrap your legs around her. You stop the kiss to look at her. She was beautiful. She was wearing a contagious smile that contrasted her blown-out pupils; this softness of her, even during these moments, made you go crazy. 
 “Take me to your bedroom.” You whisper softly, placing a soft peck on her lips.
-
As you lay on her bed in pure carnal bliss, looking at the wall, you thought you were hallucinating. She was actually there, and this was happening, or better, it had just happened. And as you lay there, you thought you were happy. Maybe it was just her or the fact that she had just given you more than an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened for more than two years since you broke up with your ex-girlfriend. 
You were still in your head, which worried the woman lying beside you a little. She shifts to your side and puts a hand on your waist, giving you soothing strokes to ask for your attention. You turn your head, snapping out of your thoughts.
“You okay?” She wonders, furrowing her eyebrows, worried that she had taken things too far. You hated seeing that expression on her, so you kissed her lips, trying to convey all your feelings instantly.
You thought it was an awful lot of emotions for a simple hookup, but that was a problem for a future you.
“I’m great.” You reassure her, shifting, laying on her side, and indulging in some cuddling. She drew patterns on your back while you ran up and down with your fingers through the middle of her chest, making her sigh contently. It wasn’t a touch with any malicious or sexual motive but a way to touch and memorize her body. To never forget the fantastic night that she has given to you.
She brings you closer to her, and your lips meet again. It was the softest kiss that she had given you. You get on top of her, pulling her hands on your back until they reach your breasts, making her understand what was on your mind.
-
That morning, you woke up with your hair disheveled and a nasty headache. You hadn’t slept at all, and you were clearly late.
You look at the clock and curse to yourself. Alexia was still sleeping peacefully beside you, lying on her front, showing all her tattoos on the back. You caress her muscular back, trying to wake her up. This might be a hookup, but you weren’t an asshole, so you would at least wake her to tell her that you would leave, and frankly, you didn’t want to intrude; she might have places to be.
“Ale. Svegliati.” You whisper, making her twitch her eyes, slowly waking up. She opens her eyes to see her surroundings, then closes them again, and her face adorns with the most relaxed smile you have ever seen. You thought you didn’t know someone more cute than she was right now. 
“Hey.” Her voice was still raspy and low, and she had no intention to move from her position. “We fell asleep.” She points out. You were meant to leave around 2 AM to return to the hotel so that nobody would notice you were gone. But now it was too late. It was already morning, and at 10 AM, you needed to take the bus to leave for the airport.
She gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, still naked, making you glance at her body hopelessly. You get dressed, putting on the same clothes you had on the night before, when she gets back in the room, with clothes on this time, and sit next to you, putting some shoes on.
“So breakfast?” She asks casually, while you stare at her dumbly, not expecting that question. More expecting her to kick you out of the house. 
“Well, it’s the least you could do.” She continues, almost as if she was stating the obvious. “After all we did last night, we don’t have to act like strangers.” She explains shyly.
“How about coffee?” You offer instead, with both of you clearly not wanting to let each other go. “I really have to be back at the hotel. Actually, I should have been there two hours ago.”
“Sorry. I completely forgot to put the alarm on. Usually, I sleep in after a match.”
“Don’t worry about it. You have already made it up to me enough last night.” You joke, making her crack a smile.
“I had a really good time last night.” She hides her face, turning her head down to look at her shoes.
“Me too.” You reply, placing a hand on her knee. 
“So, coffee?” She turns to you, hopefully.
You slowly nod, standing up and waiting for her to lead. She takes you to this small coffee shop near her house with her dog. Which you finally met, as you were a little too occupied last night to properly meet her.
She brings you coffee at the table, and you fall into a very peaceful conversation that people who have known each other for a long time would have. It was as if you had just clicked. There was no awkwardness, just conversations flowing simply and carelessly. She offers to bring you back to the hotel.
You hug her awkwardly, saying you would see her again during the national break for the scrimmage against Spain, the first game after winning the World Cup.
As you quickly snuck up to your room, hoping nobody from your team would see you, you had a quick shower to wash off the night before and pack up your stuff, clearly focusing a little more on putting away the shirt you swapped with Alexia. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the heavy bags under your eyes. You were sleep-deprived, so you put some sunglasses on to hide it from your curious teammates.
As you are on the way to the bus, you reminisce the night before and mentally curse yourself for all the feelings that you put aside during the whole day for the future you, which coincidentally was you of now. 
You were the last to go inside the bus, making your teammates tease you and whistle jokingly to you, making small comments like “Rough night?” Or “Did you have fun?”
You sit next to your usual roommate, still with your sunglasses on and about to put your headphones in, when she turns to you expectantly.
“So, how was your night out.” Air quoting the last part, giving you a knowing grin.
“It was good. How was your night.” You ask innocently.
“Cut the crap! You have your sunglasses on, you didn’t come back to the room tonight, and you have a slight limp. Who is it? Is it your defender, friend? Or is it someone else from the group?” She wonders curiously, making you roll your eyes at her and sigh loudly, clearly showing her your annoyance.
“A, I did come back to the hotel! You were just asleep!” You try to sound as convincing as possible. “B, Mapi is in a relationship, and she is like my sister! I would never hook up with her!” 
“So there was someone.” She smirks.
“I didn’t say that. You’re just going crazy. Did you eat some hallucinating mushrooms? Did you think that they were normal mushrooms, but instead, they tasted strange?”
“You’re an idiot. But whatever you did last night, I hope you had fun.”
“I didn’t do anything out of the normal stuff you do when you go out with your friends. But yes, it was nice. Now I’ll sleep.”
-
It was a national break, which meant that you were in Roma, this time, to train with your fellow national teammates. After your underwhelming World Cup and Euros run, you just got a new coach to train your squad. You really hoped that she would be better than the last one.
You were on the training pitch joking and laughing with your other teammates, juggling and passing the ball to each other, when she came on the pitch, making everyone stop in their place looking at her.
As she introduced herself to everyone, you could already see that she was not there to joke around. She was serious and precisely decided her words, but she was passionate about her new job.
“We have two weeks to prepare for the friendly against Spain. I want to create a team with a good mix of experience and fresh talent. All of you are talented girls, but I want to see you in action to create an efficient and strong team.”
The three captains go up to her and introduce themselves and the squad. While you began to juggle the ball to keep your mind off the current situation. You always hated when you changed coach; you thought you needed to prove yourself to them to be accepted in the squad, making you completely doubt your capabilities.
What made you nervous was that she wanted to rejuvenate the squad. Your previous coach tried to do that, but she failed miserably. Many great players were left out of the roster that you could’ve definitely used in the World Cup, so you really hoped that her plan was better than the other’s coach, hoping that she wouldn’t take you off the roster. 
So you gave it your all in practice, trying to impress her and, at the same time, prove to yourself that you deserved to be there. Even running laps without complaining, shocking your teammates, as it had become an inside joke that you wouldn’t run even if the world was ending. Which wasn’t quite right. Yes, you hated running, but on the pitch, you gave it your all.
They called you the female version of Daniele De Rossi since you played in Roma and had his number on, and sometimes gave you the same nickname as him, Capitan Futuro, because of your leadership and tenacity, even though when people looked at your style, they were more reminded of Pirlo’s or Busquets. But he still remained your idol. 
As soon as you finished practice, you were about to leave the pitch when the coach called you to come to her, making your heartbeat from the nervousness. 
“Y/n, come here for a second.” She made you a sign with your hand, and you ran up to her.
“Hey, Mister.” You smile politely at her, crossing your arms.
“Good job today, I have to say-“
“That I didn’t make it to the team? I know. I am a very particular player, so I get it if you want to have someone that better fits your team. I get it; I’ll pack my stuff.” You ramble quickly out of nervousness.
The coach chuckles at your antiques, “Rule number 1, Y/n. Never underestimate yourself. If you think you don’t deserve to be here, then you shouldn’t.” She says seriously, making you unconsciously straighten your back.
“I know; it’s just you are known as a brutal coach who doesn’t care about others’ opinions and is known to make very bold choices. I know that I deserve to be here; I’ve always been on the starting 11 in any important match, when not injured, of course. It’s a great honor to work with you.” You praise her, trying to make up for the bad impression.
“Likewise. But I have to ask.” She begins while studying you curiously.
“Sure, ask away.”
“Why are you here at Roma when you could be anywhere else? Who can actually give you the chance to use your full potential?” She asks so directly, making you blink twice.
“What, sorry?”
“I know that Barcelona, Lyon, Chelsea, and Arsenal all wanted you and actually offered big money to Roma for you, but you always declined. I wonder why, that’s it. I just think you are wasting your prime here.”
“I have a contract with Roma until 2024, then I’ll decide my future. As for the teams, I know that they are interested. Barcelona phones my agent almost every year. But I already informed them that I won’t accept any offer until the end of the season. I feel like I would let down the club. I told them that I would be there until 2024, so I’ll be there until 2024. It’s the least I could do after everything they did for me.”
She raises her eyebrow, amused, “Well, that didn’t happen for Chelsea. I followed your career and thought you were having a great season with the club.”
“I left Chelsea for personal reasons.” You turn your head skeptically. “With all due respect, coach, why are my career choices that important?”
“I just want to understand if I am going to make the right choice.”
“What choice?”
“You, Y/n, are going to be my new team captain.”
-
As soon as you go to the locker room, you go to your three team captains and ask them for an explanation.
“You know, they want to strip off your captaincy.” You say, wearing a disgusted expression to Cristiana Girelli. “You cannot let her do that! It’s disrespectful.” You say angrily.
“Y/n, look at me. I told her I wanted to step back from the national team. I’m getting older, and my time has already come. This is a new era. And you are the perfect skipper. They call you the Capitan Futuro for a reason.”
“But what about Barbara? And Elena? They are too, the captains.” You say sadly, clearly not wanting to take their place.
“Barbara decided to step down from the national team like me. Elena thought that you were the right choice as a skipper. She’s going to be your co-captain. We’ve already arranged everything. You just have to say yes.” You always looked up to Cristiana; she was your mentor, especially in the national team. If you were the player you are today, it was partly because of her.
“Do you think I could be a good skipper?” You ask her shyly, “I’ve never been an actual captain; with Roma, I’m the third, but the actual one? Do I make the cut for it?” You hated yourself for being this insecure.
She takes you by the shoulders. “You, Y/n, transmit something when you are on the pitch that not many people do. You make the team more calm and lucid. Knowing that you are back there allows everyone to be more free on the pitch. You are our most important player, on and off the pitch. So the armband is yours. You deserve it.” She gives you a reassuring hug, “Now go back to change; you are all sweaty!”
-
As the two weeks passed, you were really happy with the coach and the team. When the team found out that you would lead them, they were ecstatic, making you a little more comfortable with your new position.
The Spanish team would arrive two days before the match, and you were happy to see Mapi again and extremely stressed out to see Alexia. You didn’t talk or text after the night that you shared together; you both followed each other on Instagram, which you were stalking daily, but you didn’t give much thought to that.
You weren’t a simp. Especially for a girl that you have seen only for a day. You had some self-respect. That is what you were trying to convince yourself to believe. So you told yourself that you would avoid her at all costs. You were the skipper now, and you had to be extremely focused.
The plan failed miserably when you asked Mapi two nights before the match to meet up at a place for some drinks. She had never been to Roma and wanted to visit the city. What you didn’t expect was for her to invite some of her teammates. It’s not the fact that there were other people with you because you loved the Spanish girls, especially the ones from Barcelona, as you had already hung out with them previously.
Still, you were really scared of meeting Alexia again. Your fear turned out to be plausible because of the five players there, Alexia was one of them.
During the afternoon, you showed the Spanish girls, Roma, while they teased you, saying that you were almost better as a tour guide than a football player. They didn’t know you were making stuff up along the way, trying to act cool and knowledgeable.
You could see that Alexia would sometimes look at you, as her gaze would pierce holes at the back of your skull, but whenever your eyes would meet, you would soon avoid her gaze. You told yourself to avoid her, and that is what you did. What was more painful, though, was that she would look like a kicked puppy, making you feel very guilty for what you were doing.
After walking for a while, the girls wanted to try the typical ‘Aperitivo’ famous worldwide, so you brought them to a little place with a great view that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. They all ordered Aperol Spritz, apart from you, making them look at you a little puzzled.
“Oh, I don’t drink that much.” You explain while Mapi raises an eyebrow and chuckles.
“Okay, I usually don’t drink during the season.” She raises her eyebrow again.
“I only drink on special occasions.” Eying Mapi for making you sound like an alcoholic.
“When we won La Liga in 2017, we went out to party, and she didn’t hold back.” She glances at her, trying to make her understand to stop talking.
“And we are done with the conversation now. So, how’s Barça?”
You begin to share stories and funny anecdotes about your respective clubs, making you really happy to have decided to spend the afternoon with them. They were a tight group, and you could see that they deeply cared for one another.
As you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, you quickly clean your hands, thinking about some random stuff, when your thoughts were interrupted by the door of the women’s bathroom swinging, finding yourself in front of you, the person you were categorically avoiding.
“Alexia, Hi!” You say, still a little shocked. She was still at the door, clearly trying to make some space between the two of you. She closes the door and then turns to you, crossing her arms.
“Are you avoiding me?” She asks you to wear this vulnerability, which is very uncharacteristic. Making you want to do anything to reassure her that it wasn’t true and make her feel better. You hated seeing her like this. But you were avoiding her.
“I-I.” You didn’t know how to reply.
“Because it’s very annoying, especially when we decided to be civil about this and not act like strangers. If you have a problem, that’s on you.” She was irritated and had every right to be; you were acting like an asshole, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment. She was about to leave when you gently grabbed her hand,
“I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting you to be here today. And you come here looking like this. It’s not helping.”
“Looking like what?” She takes a step closer to you, wearing a proud smirk. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” She was making you go crazy; your mind was hazy, fully intoxicated by her.
“Like what?” 
“Like you’ve seen me naked.” You reply. She replies, only smirking more and raising her eyebrows. She has seen you naked, and she was acknowledging that. She was coming closer to you, making you retreat to the wall.
“Alexia…” You warn her once. She knew that it wouldn’t stop her because you were enjoying this. “We have to act like professionals.” She took you by the waist and began kissing your neck. “This. It is not professional. It’s wrong.” You barely utter, trying to contain any sign that you are enjoying this. Which you were. So damn much.
“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” She gives you a kiss where you are most sensitive on the neck. She still remembered. Making you shiver. “Your skin tells me otherwise. It’s covered in goosebumps.” She leaves a small kiss till she reaches the back of your ear, whispering, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 
You couldn’t reply. She was right. You didn’t want her to stop. You missed how her kisses made you feel, how her perfume intoxicated all of your senses, or how her hands, warm and comforting hands would roam all over your body in search of new skin to touch. She was lighting a fire that you knew you couldn’t put out. And frankly, you didn’t want to; you wanted that fire to consume you, leaving nothing but her behind.
“We can’t hook up in here.” You state, closing your eyes, getting lost in her. 
“Are you sure?”
“Come back home with me.” You blurt out, clearly not thinking about the consequences.
“So much for acting professionally.” She winks and then leaves you alone in the bathroom once again. You really had to stop going to the bathroom when you were out together.
When you both come out, you quickly find an excuse for you to leave. Thankfully, they had the hotel nearby, so they wouldn’t have to leave by car. Alexia told them that she had to buy some souvenirs for her sister, so she was going to come back late.
-
You get to your home by car, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where you were with your friends before, and you make her quickly come in, leading her without any hesitation to your bedroom. You were a girl with a mission.
As soon as you enter the room, you push her onto the bed and get on her lap, taking off your shirt in the process. She places her hands on the back of your shoulders, finally being able to touch your skin. You sigh at her touch as if you were finally able to breathe again.
Your faces were inches away from touching, but neither of you wanted to take that step, juggling anticipation with teasing. You were the one that surrendered, whispering, “Kiss me” To her lips as they soon met yours. It was excruciatingly slow, passionate, and tender. It was the first time that you kissed since the first time, and you finally realized just how much you missed it. Maybe too much for a simple two-night stand, but again, it was a problem for the future you.
As you lay together once again, this time in your bed together, both exhausted, even though it was barely time for dinner. She was lying on her front, with the sheets draping down her body, showing her strong back. She hugged the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed, fully relaxed. You loved seeing her like this. You let yourself leave a kiss on her temple while still stroking her hair, making her smile. She took your hand and slowly interlaced it with her, then kissed the back of your hand. “Hungry?” You ask her when she nods profusely.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever you have.” You go to get up from your bed, and you throw on the first shirt that you find, which was hers, and you leave the room.
“Come back quickly. I want to stay in bed with you.” She tells you, making you chuckle at her cuteness.
You quickly retrieve some cookies and Nutella and return to your room. You place the food near your nightstand and roam for a shirt in your closet.
“Do you want a shirt?” You ask her.
“Yes, please.”
You throw her one of your old shirts from when you were younger, and she puts it on right away and subtly smells it.
Then you offer her some food.
“Where did you get these? They are so good.” She asks you while taking a huge bite.
“I make them.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. Usually, before a match, I get a little nervous, so I bake. It’s my way of coping with anxiety. I usually share cookies with my teammates in secret. So that our nutritionist won’t say anything.”
“These are good!” She says. “They are very similar to the ones that Mapi did once.” Then it clicks for her. “Wait. Were you the one that taught her?”
“Who do you think she got the recipe from?” You chuckle.
“Yours are better, though. Like way better.”
“I know ’cause my recipe differs from the one I gave her. Mine is the real one. My dad would always say to never give out your recipes. They are a family’s inheritance.”
“You Italians are so weird with food and so extra.” She remarks, making you playfully slap her shoulder.
“We are not extra; you Spanish people are extra with your paella and the Jamon Iberico, or ‘Patanegra.’ You can find it cheaper here, and it is just as good.”
“That’s offensive. It’s like saying that Italian food is better than Spanish.” She says, clearly trying to rile you up.
“You did not just say that!” You put your hands on her thighs, looking at her, shocked.
“I did. And I don’t regret it.” She gives you a small peck on the lips and then goes on eating her cookie.
“You are lucky that you are cute.”
“Or else what? You are going to throw me out of your home?” She remarks playfully.
“I could if I wanted to, but then I’d be here all alone, without any clothes on, without anyone to keep me company.” You pout jokingly, making your voice even more needy to make fun of her.
In a swift movement, she pins you down the mattress with her fingers running up your thigh. “Thankfully, you are not alone.” She gives you a quick kiss. “By the way, you do look good with my shirt on, but you know what would make you look even better? If you took it off. So be a good girl for me and take it off.”
It was past midnight, you were both exhausted, and you were nearly falling asleep. You were lying on her side, slowly tracing her facial features with your fingers, trying to remember every little crease and mole that made up her skin.
“What are you doing?” She smiles, feeling slightly ticklish
“I’m trying to memorize your face. For the next time, we will see each other.” You say earnestly, not stopping your caresses.
“See. You cannot say stuff like that and expect me to not have a reaction.” She chuckles lightly.
“Maybe I want you to have a reaction to my words.” You say innocently, stopping your movements to kiss her soft lips.
“What are we doing here? What are we?” She asks you, making you retreat from your position sitting up.
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither. But I like this. Whatever this is.”
“Me too. We don’t have to label it. Can we just be? Is that okay for you?”
“I’m okay with it. Now come back here.” She offers her embrace to you, which you gladly accept, burying your face in her hair while she fatherly strokes your back, making your skin full of goosebumps. You sigh contently at the sensation.
“Can I ask you something?” You move yourself to better look at her.
“What?”
“I know that we are not an item or whatever, but I was just curious as to what happened with Chelsea. You can totally tell me to fuck off, and I won’t bring up the argument again, but you are known for always being very respectful to your clubs, and you always wait for a contract to finish before transferring, so I was wondering what made you change clubs.”
“Are you asking because you care or because you want a story? Because I really don’t like to talk about it, and if you don’t care, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I asked because I care. I ask because since I have known you, I want to get to know you. I ask because you are a great person and I care”
“Okay,” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “This is going to be a long story.” You chuckle. “What do you know about my history with Chelsea?”
“I know that you transferred there after being at Atletico, but you sent in a transfer request soon after, and you came to Roma. That’s it.”
“You don’t know the reason, though, right?”
“There were just rumors, but I don’t know anything, and I don’t tend to believe rumors, as the majority of them are false.”
“Okay. So, to begin my story, we have to go back to my college years in the US. So basically, during those years, three major things happened: I got my degree in physiotherapy, met my best friend, and got a girlfriend who also wanted to become a physiotherapist.”
You told her how she was British and how you thought she was perfect for you. “Frankly, looking back at it now, we were very toxic for each other. We loved each other very much, but it was our first real relationship both of us. And honestly, I thought that I was going to marry her; maybe it was just me who was so in love with that girl that I didn’t even know how to distinguish and understand her flaws. But again, she was my first real relationship, and she knew how to use my weaknesses against me to get me to do what she wanted. My best friend hated her; probably, that should have been the first sign. We would fight and then make up, and then she would guilt trip me into doing stuff for her.”
“That doesn’t look like a really healthy relationship.”
“Well, yeah, I was really young and dumb. But anyway, when I went to Atletico, we tried to have a long-distance relationship. She found a job as a therapist at the Chelsea women’s team, and her career too was taking off. When Mapi and I finished the contract with Atletico, and she moved to Barça, I was to move there too. I knew that Barcelona was interested, and Barça was my dream. Honestly, it still is. But then she called me, the day before deciding on my future, saying that her mom was sick and she needed me. Probably, she just wanted to be able to see me more. So I stopped waiting for Barça's proposal and told Chelsea I would transfer for them. In the beginning, I loved being at Chelsea. I have always supported the club, and I fit their style of play. My career was taking off quickly, and I was wearing myself thin. Her mom was getting worse, so my time was divided between training and hospital visits. For my ex-girlfriend, her mom was like my dad to me. So, I understood how important she was to her, and I thought that if I stayed with her mom and kept her company, my ex would be happy. That is what I would want if my dad were to be sick. I would just want him to have all the support, not caring about myself if that meant for him to improve.”
“That’s not very healthy.”
“But if it were your father, you would do the same thing too, right?”
“Yeah.” She replies sadly. “I did the same thing.”
“So I guess I started neglecting my ex a little? I think. I know she was suffering, and I knew I could’ve done more to give her the support she needed, but I didn’t. I would train, go to the hospital, and then sleep. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with myself and her needs. Looking back at it now, I probably would have done things differently; I would’ve tried to not wear myself out that thin.”
“You were young.”
“Yeah, I guess. So I remember that one day, and I still remember the date. Don’t ask why; I just do. Her mom was getting worse, and she was exhausted, so I thought that I would let her go to sleep while I would try to keep her mom company. As she left, I stayed with her until the time was up, and I went back home and I-“
“No, she didn’t.” She says incredulously.
“Yeah. I caught her cheating on me with one of my teammates.”
“That whore.” She replies angrily.
“Well, she eventually married that woman, so I guess not.” You chuckle at her angry expression. “She told me that I wasn’t giving her the support that she needed and that the other girl was giving it to her. I got all of my clothes and left. I was still playing at Chelsea, but then word spread out that I was the one that cheated. Everyone started to treat me differently. I didn’t play anymore; I was always on the bench, and nobody talked to me. I reached my last straw, so I requested a transfer. Barça tried to sign me; I also wanted to go there. Everything was settled; I was about to leave when they blocked the offer and allowed me to decide between two Italian clubs, Roma and Juventus. And here I am.”
“So you stayed with her dying mother, and she had the audacity to cheat on you?”
“I guess? I don’t know Alexia. So much time has passed, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. She’s happy now, I guess. Honestly, I am happy too. I am really glad though that you won the Champion’s League final against them.”
“I am even more glad, too, now.” She brings you on top of her and gives you a hug, kissing the crown of your hair. “I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me this. I hope that you know that you deserve better than her. You deserve the world. Her actions don’t define you, and don’t even think that you deserve what she did to you.”
“But what if-“You say insecurely when she interrupts you.
“No what ifs. You did what you thought was right, and by doing so, you put yourself second to everything else. You have no right to blame yourself for what she did.” She puts her hands on your cheeks and makes you look at her. “Okay?”
“Okay.” It was incredible how she knew what exact words to say and how, by her saying them, you actually believed them somehow.
Suddenly, you felt your heart crack open for her to enter inside it. And you realized that what you had with her wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. In so little time, she was able to heal you from your past and open up again. And that scared you, no, it frightened you.
You had built the highest walls, and for the two days you had been with her, she could make them crumble. You were feeling too much; she was making you feel too much. You wanted to run away. Clear your head. Push her out of the way and never see her again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move from her. Her embrace was what had grounded you. You weren’t drowning in her. She was your oxygen. And you were finally surfacing up from the depths of your mind to finally heal. This realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you do the first thing your mind could think of. Which was kissing her.
You kissed her hard and passionately, trying to convey all the emotions to her, to show her how much her words affected you. Your action caught her by surprise, but she soon adjusted to it. You trail your kisses down her chest, then to her abdomen. Praising the body of the woman who had made you feel more today than anything your ex or anyone had ever done previously. 
-
The morning after, you wake up with an arm draped around your waist, holding you down. She tightens her arm around you as you try to tangle yourself out of her embrace.
“So you are just pretending to be asleep.” You smile at her, trying to take off her strong and dead-weight arm from your body.
“Five more minutes.” She fully snuggles into you.
“I have to shower, and you have to get back to your teammates.” You try to reason with her. “And we have to have breakfast.”
“Five more minutes.” She continues.
“Okay, but only five.” She pulls herself on top of you, spurring you to play with her hair, which you do, and the five minutes turn into ten. And then you both realize that you have to get up.
You decide to shower together ‘to save water.’ You both wash each other’s hair and back, this act of intimacy making your heart swell with affection for the girl who was currently hugging you from behind. 
You both have breakfast in your little kitchen, with conversations flowing effortlessly, alternating between joking around and surfacing more serious topics.
You could not but point out to yourself that this was what was supposed to feel like when you were in a relationship with someone. But you weren’t in a relationship with her. She liked the idea of not labeling this thing between the two of you and hell, you didn’t want to complicate stuff just because of some confusing and all-over-the-place feelings.
You bring her back to the hotel, telling each other that you will see them during the match that will take place the next day.
You put your sunglasses on, which you thought maybe were your post-hookup outfit choice, and you get to the training center. It would be your last session before tomorrow’s game.
As soon as you enter the locker room, your teammates from Roma chuckle at you.
“Fun night?” They tease you.
“I don’t know what you are all talking about.” Making some other teammates look at you curiously while you showed them the finger.
“So basically, we think Y/n is hooking up with a Barça player. So now she gave us another clue: She is Spanish.”
“I’m not hooking up with anybody. And it’s none of your business; I’m your captain. Get back to train!” You say, slightly irritated.
You quickly put your training gear on, realizing you were still wearing Alexia’s shirt, and then get on the pitch.
The coach comes soon after and calls you to revise some tactics.
“So you, Y/n, if Putellas is starting, you are going to be the one that will mark her.” Her surname makes your mind have flashbacks of your previous night. “You basically annulled her in the last game, so expect you to do the same tomorrow.”
“Yes, coach.”
“If Patri starts instead, you will mark Bonmatì.”
That evening, you were nervous, to say the least. It was your first match as the Italian captain, and you really wanted it to go well. So you started baking. You baked enough cookies for an army.
So you decided to leave some for Mapi, who has always loved eating them, and your pathetic ass also saved some for Alexia in the hopes that she would come and find you after the game.
It was match day. Alexia was in the starting 11, and your parents were in the stands supporting you, and as you were leading your team to the pitch, you felt a sense of pride. 
As you go to exchange the badge with the captain of the other team, Alexia, she tries to contain a smile that was creeping on her lips.
You shake her hand and give her the Italian badge. “Hello, Captain.” You greet her.
“Hello to you too, Captain.” She replies. You finish the formalities, and then you go to each other’s respective pitches.
Today, you would give it your all; nobody would stop you.
You were all over the pitch trying to help your teammates and leading them to score, but unfortunately, the Spanish team was a force to be reckoned with, and they exploited all of the weaknesses of your team. They were world champions for a reason. Thankfully, you were able to hold off a draw.
The first time that you had to mark Alexia, it was a free kick for Spain because of an offside.
“The armband has a good look on you.” She beams at you proudly.
“Well, the star looks good on your badge.” You reply. 
“Don’t you dare try to distract me.” She warns you.
“When did I ever do such a thing?” You reply dumbly. “I should be the one warning you not to kick me!” Mapi was about to throw the ball; thankfully, it didn’t land in the direction of Alexia because seeing her again on the pitch was making you feel a little distracted, and you’d really hate it if your team lost because of one of your mistakes. 
The rest of the times you interacted with her, you would snatch the ball away from her in most cases. You were working tirelessly, trying not to concede a goal. At half-time, you were exhausted, but you had something to prove. After half-time, Alexia was getting more annoyed; she really wanted a win as it would be their first win after their World Cup.
You knew you would get subbed off at the 70th minute to give some space for subs, so until then, you would give your 100%. It was the 65th minute, and there was a throw-in for Spain. Alexia was trying to get the ball from her teammates, and with a miscalculated movement, she quickly moved her elbow, which hit your nose, making acute pain grow in the middle of her face.
“Cazzo!” You scream. You throw yourself to the ground, still in pain, smelling iron and feeling a warm liquid in your hands.
The game quickly stopped, and Alexia turned to you, kneeling and touching your scapula. 
You were mad; you had once broken your nose more than five years ago, and it wasn’t pretty, and hated when people touched you when you were irritated, so you lashed out at her. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You squirm away from her touch,
“I’m sorry.” She says regretfully.
“You fucking did it on purpose, huh? If it’s broken, don’t you dare talk to me again!” 
Your team swarms you, pushing Alexia away. 
Linari, remove your hands from your face while keeping your eyes closed. “Is there blood? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, or else I am going to cry or faint.”
You open your eyes for a moment and look at your teammates; they all are very worried. Linari was stomping towards Alexia, screaming in her face, but you couldn’t hear properly; your mind was a little hazy from the pain. 
You look at your hands; they are full of blood, and you begin to panic. You sit up and begin touching your nose, removing more blood, but you can still feel it flowing. 
The medics were running to you. “How bad is it?”
They inspect your nose, “It’s not broken; the impact broke some blood vessels, and you burst your lip. That’s why there is so much blood.
“Can you make it stop? I want to finish the game.” You look at your coach; she signs you to come off the pitch. 
You stand up, take your armband off, give it to your co-captain, and leave the pitch. You go to your coach, who reassures you that she doesn’t want you to risk anything for a friendly
-.
The medics brought you to the physio room and gave you some ice to put on your nose. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped soon after, and you were left watching the game on the TV while waiting for your teammates. You were happy that your team was able to hold a draw. As soon as the game finished, you were swarmed by your teammates checking up on you. You told them that you were okay, and then you began laughing and joking.
They stayed there for five more minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door, and you saw some of the Spanish girls checking up on you. Your team slowly exited the room, giving the death stare at Alexia, who shamefully wouldn’t look at you.
“You okay?” Mapi asked worriedly.
“I’m good. Thankfully, it is nothing serious; the impact burst some vessels, that’s why there was so much blood.”
They stayed there for another five minutes while Alexia stayed in the corner awkwardly looking at her teammates, never looking at you. As they were about to leave, you called her to stay a little longer.
“I’m sorry if I lashed out.” You say regretfully, holding out your hand for her to grab it while pulling her near you. “I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just- I had already broken my nose and didn’t want to break it again.”
“I’m really sorry.” For the first time, she looked at you; she had this kicked puppy look that you hated seeing on her face.
She takes the ice from your hand and slowly takes it off your face to check the bruising.
“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke; half of your face is red and really swollen.
“You look beautiful as ever.” She smiles.
You blush at her words, “You just say that because you were the one that caused it.”
“You know that I got screamed at by your teammates?”
“Linari?”
“Yep, Apparently, she knows Spanish really well. Honestly, I deserve it. If my teammate got kicked and punched by the same person, I would have had the same reaction.”
“Maybe you should stop then. Cause I really don’t want to know what will happen next time.” You joke.
“Maybe we aren’t meant to play against each other.” She remarks suggestively.
“Maybe not…” You reply. She kisses you on the forehead,
“Can I kiss you?”
“Just be gentle; it still hurts a little.” She gives you a feathery kiss, so gentle and so soft that it seemed like it was just a mere graze. She lingers her lips there for a couple of seconds as if she wants to savor this moment, and you both hear the door open, and you break off the kiss, pushing her away from you. You turn around and see your tattooed ex-teammate and friend staring at both of you, shocked.
“Oh wow. That was very unexpected.” She releases a surprised chuckle. “I’ll come back another time. I just left my sweater in here before.” She retrieves the sweater and she is about to leave when she turns around to the both of you, “I have to ask, though, when did you start dating, or whatever this is?”
“We are not dating.” Alexia turns to look at her, with her shoulders high and a serious face. She was closing off.
“Yeah. We are just casually keeping each other company?” You tentatively back up Alexia’s claim, clearly not realizing how weirdly you phrased it. Alexia’s face turned quickly to look at you weirdly. “Okay, that sounded a little bad. I apologize.”
“So you are hooking up?” Mapi concludes.
“Mapi!” Alexia rolls her eyes at her.
“What? It is true!” You slightly nod, making the other team's captain roll your eyes at you, too.
“I’d rather not discuss my sex life with you! I already know that in a matter of days, everybody from Barça will know, so the less you know, the better.” 
“I would never tell anyone!” She replies, offended.
While you sit there still in the bed, observing the interaction between the two friends, clearly annoyed with each other, you could see though how much they cared and loved one another. 
“So you wouldn’t tell Ingrid, right? I swear to god, you tell everything to that woman.” 
“She’s my girlfriend!”
“Yes, but still, you can’t keep a secret for shit!”
“Well, at least I didn’t nearly break her nose and kick her in the groin.” She comments calmly, making you release a surprised chuckle, making the two girls turn to look at you but soon shift their attention to each other again.
“For the last time! I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“Okay, that’s enough. As much as I don’t care about this bickering, I think it’s enough for today.” You go to stand up, but Alexia froze you with her gaze. Making you not move from your position “Now come and hug me. I won’t be seeing you for a long time.” You open your arms, and she walks right in them. 
“Take care, okay?” She says to you.
“I will. You too.”
“Let me see if I remember correctly. Ti voglio bene?” She asks, with her broken Italian accent.
“Si, Ti voglio bene anche io.” You chuckle. She exits the room, smirking at Alexia, leaving the two of you once again alone.
“Oh, I totally forgot. Can you pass me the bag that is under the table over there?” You point the bag with your finger while she quickly retrieves it and puts it on the bed next to you, where you are sitting, with your feet dangling in the air.
You quickly open the bag and hand her a little bag. She looks at you confused and then opens it.
“I made you cookies.” You explain, making her smile excitedly at the pastry.
“Why?” She turns to you incredulously, shocked by your kindness.
“Two days ago, you said that you liked them, and yesterday night, I made a batch for the team, so I thought that you would love to have them for your trip back to the airport. I made them also for Mapi.”
Her expression changed from incredulity to shock and then a mix between guilt and thankfulness. Seeing the shift in her face, your mind is plagued with doubt. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry. I just thought you might like something to eat. I always get very hungry after a match. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.” You ramble quickly while you try to take the bag away from her, but she tightens her grip on them.
“No, you didn’t overstep.” She reassures you and gives you a big smile. “It’s just, nobody has ever done anything like this before. Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s nothing, really. Even though you don’t deserve them, you still can have my cookies.” You tease her.
“Thank you. Thank you for the cookies, and thank you for the kiss. I have to get back to the locker room, or other people will start to wonder what we are doing here. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks as if it was the most normal thing.
“I can’t tonight. My parents are here, they came here from home to be at the match. Plus, I don’t think that we can do anything tonight.” Circling with your finger, your face.
“I just wanted to check up on you. Can you send me a text if it gets worse, please? I’m really glad, though, that there is someone with you tonight. I don’t think I could’ve slept well tonight if I knew that nobody would take care of you when I nearly broke your nose.”
“You are worrying too much. It’s just a bruise.”
“Yeah, but I don’t bruise the people that I dat- that I care about.”
“Ohh, you care about me!”
“Shut up. Do you want me to take the cookies to Mapi?”
“Yes, please.”
“I have to go now.” She hesitates. “Can I have a hug?” She asks shyly. You make her a sign to come to you, and she gently brings you her strong embrace, lightly pecking your neck in the process.
“I’ll see you next time?” She asks, hopeful.
“Goodbye, Alexia. Have a safe flight back home.”
-
‘Are you okay? Does it hurt?’
It was the third text that she had sent you that night. Every time, you would reassure her that it was nothing, just a bruise, but she didn’t care. She would ask you to send an update about your well-being every hour. 
‘I’m okay, Alexia. Stop worrying too much.’
‘I don’t care. In an hour, I’ll send you another text.’
‘Don’t you have like other stuff to do than worry about me?’
She sent you a picture of her and Mapi eating the cookies you baked. ‘Yes, but I can multitask. Like rn, I’m eating your cookies.’
‘I’m glad that you like them.’
‘You’ll have to teach me how to do them.’
‘You wish, haha.’
“Who are you texting?” Mapi asks suggestively to her captain, seeing her smiling at her phone.
“Me? Oh, Y/n, I wanted to see if she was okay.” She replies, never taking her eyes off her phone.
“You are down bad for that girl.” She grins.
“No, I am not. We are just casually hanging out. Plus, she told me that she didn’t want to label it. To ‘just be’.”
“Well, I don’t usually bake cookies for nightstands when they nearly have broken my nose.”
“She was just being nice because I told her that I liked them when I went to her place.”
“So you didn’t have to buy souvenirs?”
“Are you really that dumb?”
“Well, well, well, I didn’t know that you had it in you to have a nightstand. Not even her, honestly.” Alexia pulls her head down, not looking at her friend sadly. “Oh my god! You like her, like her!”
“I don’t know, okay,” She says, frustrated. “In the beginning, it was just physical. But then we began talking and laughing, and I don’t know. She just makes me feel so happy and relaxed whenever I’m with her.”
“Maybe it’s just the good sex.”
“The sex is good. Like incredible. But the little moments we have after are what I look most forward to. She baked me cookies, for god’s sake; how am I supposed to compete with that?”
“Can I say something that I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not?”
“Just say it.”
“When I first met Y/n, she was this shy little girl who just came from the US. She knew very little Spanish, but she had a huge heart. We became very good friends; on the pitch, we worked perfectly; off the pitch, she was my best friend at Atletico. Everybody loved her there. We also met her girlfriend at the time.”
“Total bitch.”
“Yeah, she loved her so much, but what hurt the most was that Kate was bluntly taking advantage of her kindness and generosity. Nobody in the squad liked her. When we were about to leave for Barça together, I was so happy. It was our dream, and I loved playing with her, but then her ex called her, and she wouldn’t wait for Barça. We got into this huge fight; it was the only time I had seen her angry. And then she moved to Chelsea.
What I’m trying to say is that Y/n, is a very kind and giving person, especially to the people she cares about. She always puts herself second to others, especially when they are in need. Giving you cookies might seem like a small and weird gesture, but for her, it is just a way to make your day, even by a little, better. She wouldn’t do this for people she wouldn’t care about.”
-
The third time you see Alexia was during the Champions League game against Barcelona. Talking to your coach, you refused to mark her, so you opted to mark during the game Aitana instead. With Alexia, things were going weirdly. You started texting more since she nearly broke your nose. So now you were friends? You really didn’t know.
The day before the match, the Barcelona team was at your stadium to meet some of your teammates from each other’s national team, but you quickly ran up to Mapi and gave her a hug. She was with some of her teammates, Alexia included, talking to each other. You soon greet all of her other teammates, leaving Alexia last.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She picks you up in the air and embraces you tightly. “You okay?” She asks you, slowly putting your feet back down on the pitch.
“I’m good.”
“How’s the nose?” She gently pinches it and moves it to see if there is any swelling.
“Stop smothering me. It’s been like six months now.” You take her hand away from you. “And don’t you dare injure me again tomorrow?”
“I’ll try my best.”
 During the last six months, clips of Alexia injuring you from your previous two matches against you went viral. People saying that she hated you or that she didn’t care. Sometimes, even in interviews, people would ask you about your relationship with her or vice versa. And the both of you would simply say that you were just, unfortunate when playing against each other and that you were actually friends in real life. 
-
It was match day, which meant that you were about to face the best team in the world, which frankly scared you a little. It was at home, so you really wanted to win or at least have a draw. 
As you are about to go on the pitch, you meet your friends from Barça in line, and you go and shake their hands to all of them.
“We are swapping shirts after this?” You ask your ex-teammate, hoping that she would say yes. 
“Sure. If I win, of course.” She replies cockily.
“We have a pretty good team, you know. I wouldn’t be so sure about a win.” You sent her a playful smirk while you walked to shake hands with Paños and then Alexia.
“Capitana.”
“Good luck out there.” She smiles, slightly lingering her hand in yours, and then the moment is destroyed by your skipper calling you back.
In the first half, you became the shadow of Aitana; she never got past you. The difference between her and Alexia was that the younger girl was much quicker and more stubborn with the ball.
“So you are not marking Alexia this time?” She asks you, still with the game going on.
“Nah, I’d rather preserve my physical well-being.” You joke, making the younger girl release a small chuckle, then go back to focus on the pitch.
Alexia was looking at your interaction on the other side of the pitch, rolling her eyes and scoffing.
The game was pretty balanced somehow. You were giving it your all, running way more than needed. You could already feel how sore your legs would be the next day, especially when you knew Alexia would be coming over tonight.
It was the 60th minute of the match, you were on the counter-attack, and you sent the perfect long ball to your number 9, and she was running to the goal. You knew that she would be swarmed by the opposing team in a matter of seconds, so you started running too, to give her some support. Your legs were hurting, but you kept on going; you would score one way or another. You were nearly at the box when Giacinti cut the ball perfectly to your right foot, and you powerfully kicked the ball off the right top bin. Everybody stopped, you stopped. All looking at the quick ball, which was currently in the air. Paños dived, but it was too late. The ball already went inside the net. 
You ran to the side of the pitch where the fans were and kissed your badge, pointing at them. This was for them. Then, all of your teammates swarmed you and hugged you.
You raise your arms to make the fans get louder to cheer for your teammates. You were winning against the best team in the world. Now, you just need to keep it up; don’t let any slip or mistake jeopardize the victory.
As the final whistle blew, you could see the disappointed looks of the other team as they registered the first loss of their season, while you just dropped to the ground exhausted. Clearly, the stress from before the match and the running and shooting took a toll on you, and finally, you were able to rest. 
“You ok?” You open your eyes to see Alexia staring at you worriedly.
“I’m good. I just need to catch my breath.” She offers her hands to help you stand up, and you gladly take them. “You were great today. No wonder you scored against us.” You thank her again and search for Mapi to swap shirts.
“So, do you still want to swap shirts?”
“Yes, of course!” She pulls her shirt and gives it to you, and you do the same. You go and hug her, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” She offers, while you look at her a little guilty.
“I already have plans. But for the next leg, for sure.” 
“Plans with a certain tall woman from my team?” 
“Who, Ingrid?” You tease her.
“No, idiot. Alexia.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You lightly blush, looking away from her knowing eyes.
“You know damn well what I am talking about.” She points her index finger at you, smiling. “I’m really happy that two of my favorite people started dating.”
“We are not dating.”
“If you say so!”
“I know so!” You saw all of your teammates leave for the locker room, “I have to go. Take care, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. Ti voglio bene.”
“Ti voglio bene. And you, too, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”
“So you would fuck Alexia?” You began laughing.
“Eww, no. I’ll leave that to you.”
You playfully roll your eyes at her and then quickly hug her. “Bye, Mapi.”
“Bye.”
You quickly go to the locker room, but the UEFA people told you that you had just won the MOTM, so they wanted to give it to you. You pose for the picture, leave to change, and get ready for the night. You were exhausted. You kept yawning and barely kept your eyes open. But that night, you were going to see Alexia, and you really didn’t want to disappoint her. 
That night, you picked her up from her hotel to get to your place; you were having a really relaxed and enjoyable conversation when you got inside your house and led her to your bedroom. You sat on her lap, and as you were about to kiss her for the first time in nearly six months, you yawned. 
“Are you sure you want to do this? You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep?” She asks you worriedly, stopping you from doing anything else.
“No, no, I’m good. I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be fine.” You go to kiss her, but once again, she stops you. She starts rubbing your thigh, soothing your aching muscles, making you close your eyes in relaxation.
“You are not wasting my time, cariño. I’m just happy to see you. We haven’t seen each other in nearly six months. We can just sleep if you want. We don’t have to do anything if you are not up to it.”
“I really like it.” You leave a small kiss on her nose.
“What?”
“The nickname, cariño.” You explain, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It had been some time since anyone had given you a nickname.
“Sorry, it just slipped.” She says, slightly blushing.
“I love it. Is it a problem for you if we just sleep? I’m really exhausted.”
“I’m okay with that. I’m really tired, too.”
“At what time do you leave tomorrow?”
“Not until in the afternoon.”
“Do you maybe want to stay tonight?” You ask shyly, tucking your head in her neck.
“There’s no other place that I would rather be.”
She makes you stand up, searching for something while you look at her confused.
“So, do you have any fresh clothes to change in? I don’t think you want to sleep in jeans.” She asks you while you point at your closet. She opens the first drawer and chuckles. 
“Is that my shirt?” She throws it at you, making your face turn pink.
“Well, it’s comfy, and it smells like you. Correction: It smelled like you. Now it’s just the fabric’s smell.”  
“I thought you had thrown it away.” She remarks sadly, throwing at you a pair of shorts.
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” She insecurely looks at you, changing the topic. “Can I borrow some shorts?”
“You can borrow anything you want.”
She takes a pair of shorts from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom to give you some privacy, which you thought was unnecessary as she has seen more of you than most people.
She returns to your room and lays down on your bed, making grabby hands for you to join her. You gladly do, sighing as you fall in her embrace, finally relaxing.
“Can I have a small kiss?” You ask her as you put your hand on her chest, quietly feeling her heartbeat.
“Ummm. Let me think about it.” She jokingly puts her hand on her chin, pretending to think. “Just one.” 
“Only one? You are making me work for them?” 
“Yep.” She pulls you for a slow kiss that takes your breath away. You hadn’t been kissing this woman for nearly half a year, and only now you realized how much you missed it. How much you missed her. As you finish the kiss, you both look at each other, “Okay, maybe another kiss.” You smile into the kiss as once again your lips met hers, and this time you melt into the kiss and break it off until you need to breathe again. 
“Buonanotte, Alexia”
“Goodnight, cariño.” You snuggle into her as she tightens her embrace, making you feel safe for the first time since you were little.
The next morning, you wake up with an empty bed. You sit up sadly, thinking Alexia left without saying goodbye or having breakfast. You leave your room and go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and there, you see her. She was rummaging through your cupboards when you walked to her and hugged her from behind.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?” She feels her relax in your embrace while you snake your hands under her shirt, gently scratching her abs.
“Really, really well.” 
“I’m glad.”
“What are you doing?” You ask her, peeking with your head around her back.
“I’m trying to understand how this thing works.” You turn to see that she has it in her hands, a Moka.
You chuckle, gently pushing her to the side, taking it from her hands, and unscrewing the top of the coffee maker. You prepare the moka, and then you put it on the stove. In the meantime, you go to retrieve some mugs; they were on the highest cupboard, so you had to stand on your tippy toes to get the mugs, but your lover? Could you call her that? Walked behind you while putting a hand on your side and retrieved them for you, making you want to giggle at the action.
“Showing off your height, are we?”
“Me? Never. I’m just helping out my short queen.”
“Oh wow. How chivalrous.”
You both sit down at your little table and bring a piece of cake from your fridge.
“Do you want a piece?” You offer, getting a piece for you.
“Did you make it?”
“Yes, I did. Yesterday morning. It’s still good.”
“I swear to god, Y/N. You’ll get me out of shape if you keep feeding me.” She remarks jokingly, taking a bite from yours.
“Hey! That was mine!” You smack her hand away from your little plate, offended.
You stay together for another hour, and then you go back to the hotel very reluctantly. You didn’t know what it was, but something shifted that night between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was because you hadn’t seen each other in so long or because there were a lot of unresolved and unspoken feelings between the two of you. But when you said goodbye to her this time, it felt sadder and more longing.
You didn’t want to leave her side, nor did she, for that matter. You gave her a last kiss. She called you for the last time, cariño, and then she left. Leaving you this weird feeling lingering in your chest that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
-
In the second leg of the Champions’sChampion, you didn’t play as you got injured two days before. It was nothing major, but it still stopped you from playing the match, which you really wanted to. You knew this would be your last season in Roma, and you wanted to bring your team to new heights.
As soon as the whistle blew, your team lost 2-0, and you felt a wave of sadness come over to you. And that was where it really hit you. This would be your last season at Roma, last season with the girls. You went on the pitch with your crutches, picking your teammates up from the ground and consoling them, trying to keep your own emotions at bay. Your team soon huddles up, and your coach makes a speech, but it was all a blur for you. You shut yourself off completely and left immediately after the pitch. 
You go inside the hallway away from the cameras and push your back to the wall, resigned. You didn’t cry. But you needed to isolate yourself and not show any weaknesses to your teammates. At least one of you needed to be strong.
“Cariño?” You hear a soothing whisper while hands cover your face. You recognize the warmth of the hands, which make you bask in contact. “Are you okay?”
“Alexia, what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating with your teammates. You got into the quarters.” You slightly push her away.
“Don’t push me away, please. What do you need?”
“I need a hug, please. Can you hug me?” Your eyes twinkle wetly with a vulnerability that Alexia has never seen before.
She quickly acquiesces to your needs and brings you in a tight hug. Your head was on her chest because of the height difference, and you could feel her heartbeat soothing and giving a rhythm to your brain. She began placing small kisses on the top of your head, and her hands rubbed your back to give you as much comfort as possible.
“Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly.
“I just realized that this will be my last Champions League with Roma and my last year with my teammates. I just feel a little vulnerable. But I’ll be okay, eventually.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“Alexia. I will be no good company tonight. When I am sad, I only watch romance movies or listen to sad songs. It’s not pretty. And you don’t have any obligation towards me.”
“I know, but I still want to. We can do all those things that you listed together. Let me take care of you.” She offers, smiling earnestly at you, making it impossible for you to say no.
“Okay, but if at any time you want me to go, I’ll leave. I’d hate to be a burden.” She rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. 
She kisses your forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be with you.” She left quickly to her changing room, making you smile dumbly at her. At that specific moment, Mapi casually walks past you, rolling her eyes. “Definitely just hooking up.” She says ironically, leaving without the opportunity to say anything else.
Alexia was back to you in precisely five minutes and ready to leave. Meanwhile, you told your teammate that you would leave alone and be back tomorrow morning, to which she replied with a very suggestive smirk. You honestly really weren’t hiding anymore the fact that you were hooking up with a Barcelona player. All the team basically knew it, also your national team, so it was no surprise.
-
You get to her home, and she soon gives you some of her clothes to make you more comfy and then makes you sit on the couch and gives you a small blanket. Her little dog, Nala, sat on your lap, asking for cuddles. It was almost perfect, it just needed-
“Do you need something else? Do you want some food? Something to drink?” She was acting all serious, and while you just beamed at her, you realized that nobody had ever wanted to take care of you like she was doing right now. Your heart exploded with affection for the woman who was currently making herself so available to your every need.
“I just need you. Can you hold me, please?” She quickly sits on the couch and waits for you to come to her. “Watch out for my leg; it’s still injured.” You lightly warn her so she would make any movements towards your leg.
Your head was on her chest, some romance movie was playing in the background, and she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to lighten your fragile mood.
“So this is going to be your last year at Roma? You are not renewing?” You shake your head.
“So, where are you going?”
“Is that really a question when you already know the answer?” You tell her you weren’t looking at her face, but you could feel her face adorn with another one of her beautiful smiles.
“You are moving to Barcelona?” She asks, clearly trying to hide her excitement.
“Nothing is official yet, but I already talked to your coach. If everything goes to plan, we will be teammates. But don’t say anything to Mapi. I want to give her a surprise.”
“So we will play together? On the same team?” 
“Si, piccola mia. We will play on the same team.”
“I guess we were never meant to play against each other.” She chuckles jokingly.
“I guess not. I think we were destined to play together.”
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