#lesbian walking club

[thisismynyc]

Brooklyn, New York

#nyc #ny #brooklyn #new york #graffiti art #lesbian walking club #I can’t find if that’s a real group or not :( #I hope it is

[v7n5]

To enlightenment!!! ☝🏻

Gross little people in my laptop

*points at Tyler fully submerging his feet in disgusting water with unidentifiable diseases in it and looks at narrator* this is your man?

Narrator: that's mine, and imma stick beside him ☺️

#fem fight club #like they just HAD to walk in the water 🙄 like omg we get it youre so different #soapshipping #fight club #if i dont draw lesbians i wont be able to live #tyler walking on the water like jesus something something #narrator with her stupid and lame kitten heels 🤬🤬

[islanddads]

arthur would learn the dance to HOT TO GO! by chappell roan and i won’t be taking questions about it at this time.

#i feel like it’s now widely accepted that arthur is an 80s music guy and chappell has those vibes okay #not to mention he is The lesbian protector and supporter #he would also love pink pony club #WAIT zoe walking in on him dramatically performing casual and being like . what is going on here #(the kids are not in the house) #let me have my little fantasy #the house in the cerulean sea #arthur parnassus

[thewingedwolf]

having a group of gay friends where this is their first group of gay friends apparently means they don’t find my “our one token straight friend is like a little gay” jokes funny apparently aksjsjs or when i bitch specifically about the gay dating scene near chicago being dominated by annoying white ex theater gays, they immediately get into like “well there are messy gay poc” yeah i’m aware of that, i’m talking about a really specific issue with the gays in this area pls keep up

#it is a well accepted fact that the gay scene in chicago has a large annoying white gay section who are the Messiest & Cringiest bitches #that have ever lived and every gay scene has A Group that annoys the shit out of everyone else in the scene okay aksjsns #all the lesbians in my area are either married with kids or constantly at a club and i know this bc i have dated lesbians in this area #half the stereotypes about gay people in illinois are about the ex theater gays or party gays in boystown like aksjdjdj come on #i cannot be the only one in tune with the Community here #also if u don’t agree that our straight friend who is always mentioning female celebs she’d go gay for wouldn’t fall in love with some #lady version of sam heughan when she wears an outlander mask to work every day u r just factually incorrect okay #rani makes text posts no one will read #but we were talking about these really specific messy white gay people we know & it’s like yeah so one of them already having a committed #partner 2 weeks after filing for divorce & all of them being like high powered lawyers that spend their free time taking their kids to see #wicked at the oriental theater is just a really specific type of gay person that i’ve dated a lot aksksjsj #and also they’ve been in my friend groups. they’re the only ones with cars everyone else takes the train everywhere & they refuse to go on #dates outside of chicago city limits like they’re gonna get hate crimed the moment they step off the el #which is double funny bc like do u think i live in fucking waukegan do i look like i make that much money no ur not gonna get hate crimes in #this democratic stronghold area like every other person that walks in has a pride pin or pink hair ur good buddy.

[kakusu-shipping]

I am whatever gender makes us Gayer™

#Emile's Arts #Zenyatta #Ramattra #Bars #BOB #Lynx17 #Iggy #Self ship #Proselfship #Proship Selfship #I thought of it last night while going to bed after finding out Bars uses She/Her #All my headcanons on her flipped instantly she is a Lesbian and for SURE calls BOB and I her girlfriends #BOB is He/Him because Ashe said so and he likes being the Guy she depends on but other than that Gender is nothing to him #Lynx17 NBLM I am their Boyfriend and Iggy Bisexual with a preference for Girls I am her Girlfriend #do you UNDERSTAND #Me and my very quick hand for my many Omnic Parnters #Max excluded from the club because 1. He is much harder to draw and 2. He cannot poly with anyone #Well Ramattra actually but they walk a VERY specific line #Zen means Brothers in the monk sense btw

[caswlw]

literally the most embarrassing thing omfg this dude i met at a club social has been texting like nonstop and at first i was like sure maybe he’s just Like That but then the questions started to get personal and i just . wait hours (or days) to respond bc why should he care so much and Then he’s at the meeting being like yeah you’re so busy and i was left on read multiple times and i was like ahah yeah. busy! and then he’s walking me back to my dorm and asking abt friends i have (and getting the state i’m from wrong ??) and i was like didn’t u drive here (the club meeting)?? and he said yeah as tho he wasn’t walking ten minutes away from his car just to talk to me 💀 and i have my arms crossed and am saying how much i don’t like having to worry abt other ppl or care to notice ppl or remember their names (i even forgot his when he asked if i remembered it) and i mention a Different friend that he knows and make it clear i text that person more and obviously am not interested in whatever he’s trying to do and i started to make it clear he needed to go back to the building and get his car as we approached the parking lot near my dorm (bc i couldn’t imagine him getting too close)

only for him to ask “can i get a hug”

literally . i laughed in his face and said no 😟 idk what to say !! are my gay vibes not strong enough ???? i’m contemplating making up a new girlfriend just to gently show again !!! barking up the wrong tree dude and i am now !! very aware 😐 so pls stop

#he was like u can’t walk back alone it’s cold and there are predators and i was like i literally walked this exact path from this exact #building an HOUR later than this last night. #he wanted me to get in his CAR #i just. it’s so disappointing too #would’ve been a normal friend smh #he wasn’t creepy i just clearly was throwing signs of hey!! i’m busy w school and work and clubs n shit i don’t have time for other ppl #i even dodged his whole wanna hang out this weekend w my very clear no i’m busy sleeping and doing hw reason #i was hoping maybe he’d get the hint that i’m gay seeing as my discord status is lesbians > you #idk i think maybe a fake gf will work #if any of u are interested in helping me out w a bio for that i would appreciate it #hhhhhhh i hate this #notes from the prime minister

[gonzodangerfeels]

Those pesky adverbs

#look if you actually were a gnu...is that fucking possible? #you would have had your own mom as a coach probably #yo hey yeah is some Andrë 3000 ode to high lesbian sex #big boi is like ah ya you ready player #big boi in this case wrote the song you're performing though #you two probaby are J #erry and Raleigh #Walk In Love....right out that door....go quickly my little one #someone is like big boi....big boi.... you've been stickin' kin #how about you make me hard and I rub my precum all over your lips #mmm new gloss very attached #yes suck your lip in you know you want it #no I don't think you consciously replied with your own lip bite.... it's a reaction #I am not really sure the extent of my power #and those who are like if I was god...no you're dumb ass would fuck it up shut the fuck #up #I was born with that aural ability #like even small I could use it #I'm like yeah I like thundercats had toys....and a few swords #you probably want to be cheetarah #weird way to name yourself for the time but whatever #all I cared about was high quality looks from a really really pretty girlfriend #your eyes fucked me up on proctor #and yeah on swift too #we had already walked on beneva to go to the library #certainly our vector counts as heading up to the ghetto at least #I'm like....I want that cheap ass slingshot #like no I am not going to hurt anyone..... probably #I let you in the club...... #it's a flat etching stick more than a pencil I know but we're in a tree

[bellawoso]

girls

aitana bonmati x fem!reader

desc: kinda implicit smut but not much, still rated 16+ please!! also kinda short - im sorry its exam season and im dying 😭😭

aitana knew from a young age that she was into girls, when her highschool friends spent their free time talking about boys, she could never find it in herself to involve herself in the conversation. not many people knew about her sexuality, only ona and keira had a slight idea of it, after seeing aitana go home with a woman on one of the team night outs. if anyone asked aitana about her sexuality, she wouldnt lie, she would tell them confidentially that she was a lesbian, she wasnt ashamed of who she was after all.

the reason why hardly anyone knew, was that aitana didnt do relationships. most people on the team already knew that, aitana prioritised football over everything especially after 2023 ended, and as the awards kept stacking up, her winning mentality only increased, she put all of her time into making herself better.

that didnt make the spaniard inexperienced in the sexual aspects, and was never one to turn down a woman at the bar, but aitana preferred to skip the flirting, and get out of the club as soon as possible, especially before someone like mapi saw, who aitana knew would tease her all day at training.

however, since you joined the team, aitana didnt care about mapi seeing anymore, and instead focused on trying to not let you see, aitana wasnt sure why she was so against the idea of you knowing she was going home with another woman. but each time the midfielder spotted you sat down, laughing with your fellow lionesses at the table, the midfielder couldnt help but feel guilty as she let the other woman tug her towards the door.

as aitanas hookups increased, so did the pit of betrayal at the bottom of her stomach. but after one night, when thoughts of you plagued her mind as a girl that she didnt even know the name of came undone on her fingers, she knew she had to stop. normally, aitana lasted a few rounds, however this time her skills in the bedroom couldnt change her hookups mind, as aitana did the walk of shame out of this girls house after accidentally moaning your name as she came.

aitana did stop though, nearing around 4 months without a single girl, however the longer the period of time she spent without anyone, the more time she spent daydreaming of you. the main issue was that aitana was hardly even friends with you, sure the two of you had chemistry on the pitch, but off the pitch, the spaniard had no idea about you. aitana could just go on google or youtube to find out some facts about you and watch your interviews (which she had already done) however, anyone could find this out about you, aitana wanted to know things that the internet didnt. and to do that, she needed to try talk to you.

———

aitana liked to think of herself as a confident person, it took a lot of courage to heartlessly tell someone that they are nothing more than a hookup, but aitana hadnt thought about the fact that she had never had to see those women again. if you rejected her, then aitana would still have to see you each day at training, and she didnt think she could live with the embarrassment and awkwardness of that.

so she decided to first ask you to get a coffee with her after training, she knew lucy had brought you to training, so she could give you a lift back as well. aitanas plan was to befriend you first, and then try figure out if you reciprocated her feelings or not.

so when aitana decided she would offer to spot you, she didnt anticipate her body freezing up with nerves as she was about to ask you, which unluckily happened at the same time you failed your rep and actually needed aitanas help.

due to your intense sets, you were breathing unevenly as you tried to get aitanas attention, except gasping out “tana” didnt help the brunette anymore. instead her face blushed crimson, the spaniards pent up neediness for an orgasm from somebody other than herself was getting to her, and her mind couldnt help but think of how good you sounded saying her name.

her short daze was broken by you once again saying her name, as she quickly took the bar off you, repeating “lo siento” as you still gasped for air. when you grabbed onto the brunettes bicep for support, struggling to hold your self up after having your oxygen supply restricted for too long. you couldnt help but notice the muscle flexing unconsciously below your fingertips, which only seemed to make you feel more lightheaded.

“dios mio aitana, are you trying to kill me?” you wheezed out with a raspy chuckle, only to be met with silence from the midfielder and her holding up your water bottle to you. “you know im not mad at you, right tana?” you asked the spaniard, uncomfortable at the thought of her thinking your mad at her. “si, yes i know y/n, are you sure your okay?” she asked, as she gathered the courage to start rubbing comforting circles on your back. only when ona came up to the two of you, asking the both of you what happened accompanied with a knowing glance shot at aitana, did her hand stop rubbing circles on your back. the brunette instead let her hand fall, so it rested dangerously low on your lower back, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

you decided to call off your gym session early, you couldnt keep aitana off your mind, and your back still tingled where her hand had once rested. aitana decided to accompany you and drive you home, claiming she “owed it to you” after almost ending your life. despite the girls actual reason to take you home being she wanted to build her friendship with you, you suspected the midfielder just felt bad. never once did it cross your mind to ask what it was that had aitana so distracted during your workout.

———

your apartment was a 10 minute drive from the training grounds, however aitana had decided to take a detour, claiming that it would be faster due to the bad traffic in barcelona. however, after almost 45 minutes in the car, you were beginning to get tired, you were having a great conversation with the brunette who currently had one hand resting on the steering wheel, expertly navigating round the quieter streets of barcelona. as you looked over at the midfielder, you couldnt help but admire her side profile, and the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried to remember the route.

a quick glance at the street you were currently at, on the map displayed by the screen of her car, had you internally groaning in frustration as you realised you were still half an hour away from your apartment.

“aita, are we almost there? im tired” you asked the midfielder, who now had a look of shock and suprise on her face.

aitana hadnt even realised how long she had been in the car with you for, she only meant to detour and make the route 10 minutes longer, not an hour. even the detour was only so she had enough time to build her courage to ask you out for a coffee.

“oh- yeah almost y/n! uhhh- like, another.. 30 minutes?” she said sheepishly, before quickly rushing out “¿Te gustaría tomar un café conmigo mañana?”

“aita, i dont speak spanish remember? especially not at the speed you just spoke at!” you said with a laugh.

fuck. aitana thought. although she had managed to ask you out, her nervous state had completely forgot to translate it into english so that you would understand. her adrenaline of asking you was wearing off, and she felt her previous nerves almost skyrocket at the thought of having to ask you again, especially now your full attention was on her.

“uhhh- get a coffee with me? i mean- uh, would you like to? to get a coffee with me? its fine if not- uh, it can just be as friends? if we are friends that is! its fine if-“ until aitanas state of rambling was cut off by you who although found her flustered state very amusing, was starting to feel pity for the spaniard who was struggling to even form a sentence at this point.

“i would love to aitana, its a date!”

“it is?” the midfielder said, receiving an encouraging nod from you, “it is!” she said more excited now, making you laugh at her excitement.

———

to other people, it would probably look like aitana had been stood up, but in reality, she had just decided to arrive at the coffee shop an hour early to hopefully have a coffee or two before you came, and prepare herself in hope to not embarrass herself too much in front of you.

the coffee shop she had chosen was one she had been to for years, it was relatively popular amongst locals, and was a small, cozy, family owned business, that aitana had grown to love.

as soon as you walked in the shop aitana requested to meet you at, you were met with aromas of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries, you scanned the shop for the midfielder you had grown to love, and saw her sat at a window seat, with an empty mug infront of her.

“i didnt get the time wrong did i?” you asked her, glancing at her empty cup.

“no, no- i got here early” the brunette reassured, and outstretched her arms for a welcoming hug which you quickly accepted, the midfielder wrapped her arms around you, not wasting the opportunity to have you as close as possible. equally, you werent going to pass up the chance to have aitanas arms wrapped around you, especially as they were what you spent most of your gym time admiring as you did your weights, much to esmees amusement and annoyance, who was your usual gym partner.

as you pulled apart and sat down, aitana decided to go and order the both of you another coffee, coming back with two cinnamon lattes, your eyes widening in surprise as you realise she remembered your favourite drink that you mentioned during your rambling in the car yesterday.

the date went well, and much better than aitana expected, she managed to not embarrass herself at all, and left the date with a smudge of your lipstick on her cheek where you had kissed her goodbye, that she knew she would probably cry about when she had to wipe it off later.

———

yourinstagram

caption: owed me a coffee after almost murdering me in the gym ❤️ tagged: aitanabonmati

liked by: aitanabonmati, alexiaputellas and 23,416 others

comments:

aitanabonmati: are we even yet?

-> youruser: i think i might need a few more coffees…

lucybronze: are we even surprised??

-> youruser: i think i could say the same about you and a certain brunette defender on the team..

user1: guapaaaass

user2: are they together?!!!

user3: princess of england, and the princess of spain ❤️💙

———

#Spotify #woso #woso community #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #aitana bonmati x reader #lucy bronze #esmee brugts

[meangirls-imagines]

Could I request a Leighton x reader one shot where Leighton just recently came out and is new to the whole lesbian flirting thing so she tries to find out if reader is gay with the help of questionable internet advice?

Gaydar Issues

Description: Leighton is new to the Essex queer community and unlike her confident persona, she has no idea how to flirt. She meets Reader and develops a crush on her. She should not have gone to her roommates for help.

WARNINGS: fluffy as fuck, leighton being a gay baby, her roommates being dumb, leighton gay panicking.

Okay.

In hindsight, Leighton knew she shouldn't have gone to her roommates for queer flirting advice.

She had no other options.

Let's recap.

Ever since Leighton came out, she had found it difficult to talk to women in person and not behind a screen. She was two different people.

One had a seductive aura, luring her hookups in with a single smirk and making them see stars by the end of the night.

The other was a shy, nervous girl who had no idea how to flirt.

Leighton was struggling. She had tried to talk to Nico about it but him being a guy, gave her flirting tips that he does, which were gross. She tried to talk to Willow about it but the girl was no help. She flirted with athletes, who she had something in common with.

That was it! Leighton just needed to find someone who had something in common with her! Easy peasy.

Plot twist: it's not so easy peasy.

Leighton had decided to scout out her math class to see if she had any hot female students in there with her. She had one, and she had already hooked up with her and didn't really feel anything with her.

It had gotten to a point where Leighton was starting to give up, but as she walked out of class, she saw the most gorgeous girl talking to Bela, of all people.

Leighton froze as she looked at the girl. She was stunning, the smile she was giving Bela was melting Leighton's heart. The girl had on some black skinny jeans, white converse, a white crop top and a jean jacket on.

Leighton could tell she had great fashion sense, even if the outfit was casual. She could hear her laugh from where she stood and it became her favorite sound in the world. Before she could go over and introduce herself, the girl hugged Bela and walked the other direction.

Bela began walking towards Leighton as the blonde fell in step behind her.

"Hey Bela! How are you today?"

Bela looked at Leighton confused but played along. "I'm...fine. Leighton, are you okay? You never ask about my day." The blonde smiled at her. "What are you talking about? I always ask about your day. I had a question."

Bela laughed, "There it is." Leighton rolled her eyes. "That girl you were talking to, who was she?"

Bela smirked. "That's Y/N. I'm trying to get her to join my comedy club. Girl is hilarious." Leighton nodded. "Yeah. Could you introduce me?"

Bela smiled. "Ooh does someone have a crush?" Leighton blushed hard. "Bela! Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have a crush on every girl!." Bela smirked again. "Yeah, yeah. I'll introduce you."

The next day, Leighton was walking across the campus courtyard when her name was yelled. She turned to see Bela and Y/N walking towards her. She instantly got nervous as the duo approached her. She straightened herself up and smiled at the two.

"Hey Bela!" The duo reached her as Bela held out an arm. "Y/N, this is Leighton. Leighton, this is Y/N, the newest member of my comedy club!" Y/N stuck her hand out for Leighton to shake. The blonde shook it, thinking about how soft her hands were before snapping back.

"Congrats! Bela was telling me how funny you are!" Y/N blushed. "Thank you! It's so nice to finally meet you! Bela has told me a lot about you, though she didn't mention how pretty you are."

Leighton's jaw dropped. A blush took over her features as she stuttered on her words. Y/N smirked and looked at Bela. "I'll see you later okay? Bye guys!" She walked off as Bela stared at Leighton shocked.

"Leighton. Are you blushing?" Leighton shook herself off and glared at Bela. "I am not!" She stomped off as Bela smirked. She pulled her phone out and texted Whitney and Kimberly.

"Leighton needs an intervention."

Leighton didn't know what to expect when she got back to her dorm, but it wasn't her roommates staring at her. It scared the shit out of her. "What the hell are you guys doing?" Kimberly gestured to the couch. "Please sit."

Leighton sat and looked at them confused. "What is happening?" Whitney sighed. "Leighton, it's come to our attention that you don't know how to talk to girls. We are here to help you."

Leighton's jaw dropped as she slowly turned to glare at Bela. "You told?!" Bela sighed. "I'm sorry! But you need help. Y/N is so into you!" Leighton glared at Bela. "Do you know if she's even gay?" Bela sat silently for a few seconds. "Uhh...no?"

Leighton pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Whitney decided to save Bela. "She told us Y/N called you pretty! That's a sign, right?" Leighton directed her glare to Whitney now. "Girls call each other pretty all the time Whitney!"

Kimberly, ever the voice of reason, finally spoke. "Leighton, I think for now, talk to her, get to know her, and then maybe if she's comfortable, she'll tell you. But don't just outright ask her. So that way, if she isn't, you can remain friends."

The room was silent for a moment before Whitney and Bela voiced their disagreement of the plan and began to bicker about how Leighton should handle it.

Leighton was stuck on Kimberly's words. "Talk to her." "Get to know her"

That's what Leighton was going to do.

She spotted Y/N the next day walking out of the library and quickened her pace to catch up. "Y/N!" The girl turned and saw Leighton. A bright smile came across her face as she waved. "Hi Leighton! How are you?" Leighton fell into step with Y/N. "I'm good! I actually wanted to ask you something."

Y/N nodded. "Ask away." Leighton took a deep breath and asked the question. "Do you maybe wanna hang out, later? We can study together in the library. If you want!" Y/N blushed and nodded. "Yeah, sure! Can I get your number?"

Leighton felt her heart rate increase. She handed her phone over to Y/N, who put her number in quickly before handing it back. "Text me when you wanna meet up later." Leighton nodded before the girl smiled at the blonde and walked off.

Leighton fought the urge to do a happy dance.

Step one, done.

After a few weeks of hanging out with Y/N, Leighton discovered she was down badly for this girl. The more they hung out, the more Leighon's crush grew. Her roommates tried to hype her up to ask the girl out, but she didn't want to embarrass herself.

It all came to a head one day at lunch, the day that the roommates deemed, "their baby gay grew up".

Leighton was sitting at the table with her roommates eating lunch when Y/N approached. "Hey guys!" The girls greeted Y/N, not so subtly looking at Leighton, who blushed.

"Hi Leighton." The blonde smiled and quietly said hi back. Y/N cleared her throat. "If you weren't doing anything tonight, would you maybe wanna go to dinner and a movie tonight? I know this really good burger place a few miles from school."

Leighton blushed. Her brain was unable to function and she stuttered on her words once again.

Kimberly answered for her. "She would love to! She doesn't have any plans tonight!" Y/N smiled and looked at the girl. "Great! I'll pick you up at say 6:30? Dress casual." Leighton nodded as the girl walked off.

Her roommates squealed as the girl blushed harder. "We told you she was gay! You got a date!" Leighton smiled at how happy her girls were for her, joining in on the squealing, not noticing Y/N watching with a wide grin.

When Leighton came home later that night, hearts in her eyes and swollen lips, the roommates squealed again, sitting her down and making her give them the details.

Their baby gay really had grown up.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #leighton murray

[robbinggoodfellows]

2024 House MD because why not:

Cameron crochets and sometimes she makes little gifts for patients

House comes out as bisexual by walking into the office, throwing a handful of those tiny pride flags on the table, taking the bi flag for himself, and saying “fight amongst yourselves for your identities”

Cuddy puts up pride flags in the windows of the lobby for pride month and forgets to take them down so PPTH gets known around town as “the gay hospital”

To prove a point to House about the annoyance of a motorcycle, Wilson buys an electric bike

Chase android user canon

Taub whatsapp user canon

Hilson canon

Houses ringtone is a RuPaul song because he thought it’d confuse people

Wilson’s ex wives were all lesbians. Wilson knew that and they knew he was gay. They were beards for each other

Cuddy gets married to Stacy in season 1

Thirteen is exactly the same.

Kutner cries at least biweekly about Club Penguin

Kutner also plays CoolMathGames instead of working sometimes

He introduces House to CoolMathGames and House spends an entire episode Not Working.

House and Wilson get caught fucking in the MRI room at least two separate times

Foreman cannot use technology. Bros literally a grandma.

Every character has a little bit of homoerotic tension with another character

Taub and Kutner kiss once because they were drunk and they wanted to end homophobia

House at least once asks Cuddy “Are you sure your pronouns aren’t he/it? Because I wanna he/it that.”

House does Ozempic for one episode

Hilson marriage episode where House almost leaves but Cuddy convinces him that marriage isn’t that bad

#house md #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #lisa cuddy #allison cameron #eric foreman #robert chase #chris taub #lawrence kutner #thirteen hadley

[katrinawritesthings]

post an excerpt of one of your wips. :3c

the next thing that Taeyeon does is wake up. 

suddenly, with a start, as a heavy weight drops right next to her. her eyes snap open and for a second, she doesn't remember where she is. then a hand passes above her and grabs something blue and places it gently on her chest. rubbing her thumb into her eye, she squints it into focus. it's her plushie dolphin sleepy friend, smiling pleasantly at her.

“oh,” she says, wrapping her arm around it she turns at more movement against her side and finds the most gorgeous creature in the universe snuggling in next to her. “oh yeah,” she says. right, yeah, she was having sex. 

 that's her first thought, and then her second thought makes her flush pink with embarrassment. she takes inventory of herself to try to convince herself that she's wrong, but. her stomach is wiped clean, her shirt has been pulled back down, her sweats are all the way off, the blankets are pulled up to her waist, and she has no memory of any of that. next to her, Junghee is in a similar state of post sex put togetherness. Taeyeon covers her face with her plushie dolphin sleepy friend. 

“did I pass out?” she asks, horrified already at what she knows the answer is.

Junghee finishes getting comfortable by lifting her arm up and around and down until she's it underneath Taeyeon’s head. 

“mmhmm,” she hums, and just those two little noises carry so much confidence and pride and smugness that Taeyeon doesn't even have to look at her to imagine her expression.

#Hot lesbian that ignores you when you try to flirt with her at the club #But then you walk in on her getting the succ in the bathroom and she invites you to join #And you get her number but then neither of you are lesbians for the next like a year and a half #But then you are lesbians again so you have to take advantage of it so you invite her over #And the d is so bomb you pass the fuck out #anonymous #asks

[leahluvr]

initiation - arsenal x reader

summary: you get drunk for the first time with your teammates

themes: intoxication, vomiting, comfort, fluff

(requested)

the promised ‘one drink’ had quickly turned into five. after a big, record-breaking crowd win at the emirates, it was unsaid that there needed to be some exciting nightlife to celebrate the occasion.

you hadn’t been a legal adult for very long and holding strict adherence your club’s rules, you never drank underage. usually, you opted out of events like these because you weren’t aware of your limits.

sitting at the table with all your club mates’ belongings, you sipped on a drink someone-you couldn’t remember who-had given to you. mesmerised by your lack of clear vision, you stared at the tiles on the floor, focusing on the way the grout in between them slowly swayed.

“hi liefje!” the familiar dutch woman’s voice jolted you back into reality. she shouted quite loudly in an attempt to overpower the earsplittingly loud music.

“hi viv!” you said brightly with a beaming smile that even reached your eyes.

viv shuffled onto the chair next to you, draping her long arm around your shoulders.

“this is your first time isn’t it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “i hope you’ve got the energy to dance, ‘cause i’ve got a very grumpy looking girlfriend over there, waiting for a dance. but im afraid my dancing shift is over.”

you burst into a drunken fit of laughter when you spotted beth standing on the dance floor. colourful flashing lights flickering over her resentment-filled face and with arms crossed.

as you danced and as time passed, you’d lost track of how many drinks you’d consumed. if someone had asked you what you were doing 20 minutes ago, you’d have no clue. but a certain irish woman’s accent perked your attention.

“alright! for good craic i’ve bought everyone shots!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, caitlin shying behind her from embarrassment. “wet pussy shots for all us lesbians!”

the team gathered around the bar for an impromptu ‘we’re winning the league’ toast, and you stared at the others as they all quickly downed their shots with ease. you looked back down at the pink shot in your hand; it trembled from your unsteady, intoxicated grip. gritting your teeth, you brought the glass to your mouth, swallowing it all in one motion.

in that moment, you noticed it tasted nothing like alcohol, despite the burn down your throat. but soon enough the sweetness of the liquid hit the back strongest of your tastebuds, as you felt saliva begin to well up in the back of your mouth. the room began to spin.

urgently, not wanting to embarrass yourself, you found yourself rushing to the bathroom, katie’s raucous laughter ringing in your ears.

leah, always responsible for taking care of you, noticed your disappearance from the group and appeared by your side in an instant, holding your hair back as you hurled out the mostly liquid contents from your stomach.

“just let it all out, y/n,” leah’s gentle voice comforted, rubbing your back in small circles in attempt to soothe you. “first time with katie’s shots is always a wild ride, hm?”

after emptying out every last bit of alcohol from your stomach, leah stood you up and walked you over to the sinks, her arm secure around your waist. as you rinsed your mouth out at the tap, leah had grabbed some paper towels, slightly wetting them before returning back to you.

“look at me,” she said quietly, wiping at the sides of your mouth and chin with the damp paper towels. she brushed the hair out of your eyes and held the sides of your head, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, “you’re okay, yeah?”

leah walked close by your side as you re-entered the club, catching amused glances from your teammates.

“i think it’s about time i take this one home,” leah announced, rubbing your back, “see you all at training on monday!”

as you walked towards the exit katie made sure to yell. “i don’t count that as surviving your initiation, y/n!!”

a/n: yeah i hate this lmao and it’s not proofread

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 2

~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~

~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~

~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~

~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~

~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~

~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

~ Part 1 ~

________________

One night.  

One perfect night.  

That’s all it took.  

One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.  

One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.  

A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.  

It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since. 

It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.  

It's not that you haven’t tried.  

You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.  

A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right? 

It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.  

You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.  

You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.  

Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you. 

You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.  

Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.  

It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.  

It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.  

That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ﾠﾠ

Until she wasn’t, of course.  

Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ﾠﾠ

You knew even then that you should have.  

It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ﾠ

She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.  

She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.  

She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.  

She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.  

It was just one night.  

It was one perfect night.  

________________

Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.  

You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.   

It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.  

You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.  

She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.  

She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.  

Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.  

Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.  

It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.  

She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.  

Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.  

You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.  

“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.  

“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.  

She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.  

“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.  

It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.  

“What?” 

Oh ..maybe she is! 

That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.  

“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?” 

“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?” 

“Do you find every woman attractive?” 

“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?” 

“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?” 

“No. Not once. Why?” 

“Never ever?” 

“Y/N!” 

“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.  

“About women?” She queries. 

“About ..why women. What it is about them.” 

“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.  

You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.  

“Stop doing that!” 

“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.

She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!” 

“I need your help.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.  

You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.  

“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.  

It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.  

You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.  

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.  

“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.  

“Nothing. I was just—” 

“Thinking about women?” 

“No!”  

It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.  

The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ﾠﾠ

“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.  

This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.  

“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.  

You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.  

“Why? For a man?” 

“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.” 

“..and ..was it?” 

“Mhmm.” 

She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.  

It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.  

You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”  

Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.   

You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.  

You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.  

You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.  

There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.  

“Y/N?”  

You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.  

No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.  

“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?” 

See what I mean? What the hell?  

That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.  

Did you?  

She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.  

It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!  

Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.  

It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.  

“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.  

“Yeah.” 

“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?” 

“..we broke up.” 

Shit. She would make this all about herself.  

You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not. You never liked her.” 

“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.  

“I am fine ..I broke up with her.” 

“Well, thank fuck for that!” 

“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!” 

“She was horrible!” 

“You could’ve said.” 

“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.” 

“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?” 

The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Where are you going in Spain?” 

“Barcelona.” 

“Why?” 

“Football.” 

“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.” 

“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.” 

“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.” 

“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.  

Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.  

You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.  

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.  

“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”  

“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.” 

“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.” 

“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.  

She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.  

If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.  

It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.  

What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.  

You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.  

So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  

Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.  

But what if it’s a sign? 

Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.  

Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.  

“The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.  

“You’re still going with that?” 

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.” 

“I hadn’t met her before.” 

“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.  

“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.” 

“I don’t mind doing that.” 

“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.  

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.  

You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh. 

What’s the worst that can happen?  

She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.  

You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.  

Mm.  

It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.  

“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”  

She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.  

“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.” 

“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages  

“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.” 

________________

Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects. 

She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.  

There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.  

That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.  

Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.  

You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.  

She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.  

You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.  

So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.  

Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.  

You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.  

It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.  

A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.  

A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.  

Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.  

You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.  

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.

Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.  

You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.  

You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.  

It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.

She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.  

She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.  

She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.  

“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.

That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ﾠ

You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.  

“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.  

You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.  

Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.  

It’s her. It has to be her.  

The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.  

You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.  

You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.  

There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.  

“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.  

“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.  

“….Hi.” 

“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.  

You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.  

It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.  

It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.  

“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.” 

“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?” 

“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.” 

There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.  

“What are you doing here?” She questions.  

“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.  

“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face. 

There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”

She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.  

“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.” 

She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.  

You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare? 

There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.  

You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.  

“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.  

“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.  

No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.

“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?” 

“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.” 

It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.  

“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?” You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.

She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.  

It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.  

“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.  

You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.  

She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.  

Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.  

It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.  

Alexia. 

It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again. 

“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.  

She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.  

You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it. 

“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.  

There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.  

You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.  

She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else? 

You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.  

The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.  

You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.

“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.  

“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.” 

“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.  

“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.” 

You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.  

So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.  

“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?” 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?” 

“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”  

“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.  

“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.” 

It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.  

She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.  

“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”  

“Uh oh!” 

“What?” 

“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.

“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..” 

“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.” 

“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!” 

“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.” 

“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!” 

“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?” 

“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.” 

She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.  

“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.  

“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.” 

It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.  

“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”

“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.  

“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.

She really is very curious.  

She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.  

They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.  

“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?” 

“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.  

“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?” 

“Hm?” 

“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—” 

“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.  

“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”   

It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.  

“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.  

“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“ 

It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.

It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.

It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.  

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.  

“I really missed you too.” 

Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other. 

It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.  

She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit! 

She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.  

You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.

Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.

Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.

There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.  

You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.  

It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.  

You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.

Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.

Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.

Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.

She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head. 

“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.” 

“Just don’t let her burn it!”  

“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!” 

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.

You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.” 

“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”  

“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”

It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.

"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."

"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.

It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.

It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.  

You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.

________________

Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.  

There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.  

It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.   

You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her. 

Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.  

“Long day?” You ask. 

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?” 

“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm. 

She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.  

“I was given it.” 

“By?” 

“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.  

“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.” 

That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.  

“What do you mean?” 

“Going for the best player on the team.” 

That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.  

“..What do you mean?” 

“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”   

Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible. 

Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.  

No.  

She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you. 

Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.  

“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.  

“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.  

“Who is Alexia Putellas?” 

She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.  

“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.” 

You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.  

Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.  

She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.  

Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.  

She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.  

She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.  

She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.  

Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.  

You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.  

She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele. 

Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.  

Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.  

She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.  

So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.  

It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.

She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.

She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.  

Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.  

She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all. 

“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.  

“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.  

“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”  

She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.  

You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.  

She really is absolutely everything.  

“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!” 

“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.  

“You can’t wear it!” 

“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.” 

“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?” 

“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.” 

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: smutty thots, my raging lesbianism, fem! reader, omg I’m such a hoe

Yk what I’m thinking about..?

Wearing a small tight-ass black dress to a club, music blaring, muddling up your thoughts, neon lights make everything look unearthy. A few tequila shots are kicking in, making you loose-tounged and playful, just like a cat - swaying your delicious hips while walking, the bottoms of your plump ass peeking from under the hem of that damn dress, your alluring smile and pretty face causing heads turn.

Valeria getting you a few drinks before shamelessly shoving one of her hands under the hem of that poor excuse of a dress, cupping your needy cunny, calloused fingertips rubbing small circles against your entrance through soft lace of your underwear. Her mouth is hot against your neck as she places wet sloppy kisses on wide expanse of your sensitive skin, sucking a mark or two. You shamelessly opening your legs wider - right there at the bar because you simply don’t care who may see.

Valeria who rails you absolutely stupid in a narrow stall of club’s bathroom, so that you can barely stand on these 5 inch heels of yours. Her making sure you will never forget about this night, thinking of her whenever that pathetic little boyfriend of yours fucks you, making you scream out her name when you cum (if he manages to make you cum, that is)

#valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria mw2 #valeria el sin nombre garza #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x you #valeria x reader #valeria garza x reader smut #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza smut #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #call of duty smut #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty writing #call of duty #call of duty x you #call of duty valeria #cod x reader

[eimids]

Tension

Leah Williamson x reader smut

Reader is questioning her sexual identity, Leah’s here to help.

warnings: Smutt, first time

Words: 3.3k

Being a 24 year old virgin is hard. Myteamates at arsenal ask me about my sex life quite often but yeah no. Still a fucking virgin.

I just think I'm atill a virgin because I've been questioning my sexual identity forever. Now i'm thinking that I'm romantically attracted to men but I couldn't imagine having sex with a man. That is just a no. But I'm more sexually attracted to females. Although I could imagine being with a female romantically. So I guess that makes me bi? Pan?

I have had mixed feelings about my teammate Leah. She's really pretty and I can't help but glance at her every now and then. There's tension between us.

Sexual tension.

I have never really had anything like this. She's been flirting with me during training and one time we shared a room and I could see her staring at me when I got out of the shower. We have known each other only for 5 months since I moved to arsenal but we are actually gotten quite close.

Today Leah asked me to go to a bar with her. I felt excited but nervous at the same time.

I was running late. When I showered I decided to shave my body just in case anything happens. I had a huge problem with my clothes. I didn't want to be too fancy but I didn't want to look like a bum. I ran outside to my cab and climbed in.

I saw Leah standing next to the bar. She was looking around to see me. I wasn't really sure if other teammates would also be here or not.

Our eyes met and she smiled at me. She waved at me and I walked to her. She was wearing a gorgeous oversized blazer.

"Hi Leah" I said and smiled. I was leaning in for a hug but then I remembered that she really doesn't like hugs.

"Hi y/n. You look gorgeous" Leah said as she checked me out.

"So do you! What are you drinking" I asked and then added "wait don't say. Just ordered me the same that you are having. I'll go to the bathroom real quick" I said and left. Leah looked a little confused.

I was so nervous that I was feeling nauseous. 'Why am I so nervous, she's just a teammate' I thought to myself. I stayed in the bathroom for a while until I was feeling calmer.

"Sorry that you had to wait" I said when I walked back to Leah.

"It's fine y/n. So here is your drink" She said and pushed a drink towards me.

"Thank you. So is this a girl's night or is it just us tonight?" I asked. Still wondering if other teammates like Beth, McCabe and Less would show up.

"Today it's just us. I want to get to know you better since you are the newbie" She said and smirked.

"Hey don't call me that" I said sounding hurt. Of course with sarcasm.

"You are the newbie tho" She teased.

"Fine. But you said you wanted to get to know me. What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Nothing special. Just want to get to know you. Like where did you grow up, why you decided to join Arsenal and do you have a boyfriend?" She said. I was little taken back by the boyfriend question.

"I grew up in Sweden and England. I moved a lot when I was younger, I wanted to join arsenal so I could get better at the best club. I do not have a boyfriend. Nor girlfriend" I answered her in one breath.

"Slow down y/n. We have all night to talk. Follow up question. Do you like girls?" She asked.

"Yeah I do. I've been questioning my sexuality for so long but yeah I like girls. I mean how can you not. But how about you" I answered.

"I'm lesbian" She said "and single" She added and winked. I blushed a little.

"Would you girls like to have anything else?" The bartender asked suddenly. I noticed that she was looking at me.

"I think we're good" I answered and smiled.

"Well if you need anything just let me know" She said and winked at me. She slid a card to me where was her phone number.

Leah had a weird look on her face. I couldn't figure out what it was until it hit me.

Jealousy.

Leah Wiliamson was jealous because some bartender was flirting with me. I was feeling quite special. From all girls in the world she chose me to go to a bar with.

Leah then put her hand on my knee. Her hand was going little higher as she drew some patterns to my knee. Butterflies filled my stomach again. How was this happening. A literal goddess next to me.

"Y/n I'm gonna be a little forward now" Leah said and I nodded.

"I really want you in my bed. Ever since you joined the team I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you. You are intoxicating. I have always just wanted to kiss you, to have you"

To have me.

I was really wondering if this was real. Leah fucking Wiliamsson telling me that she wants me.

"I... I want you t-too Leah" I said not so smoothly as I thought it would be.

"What about we get out of here?" Leah asked and stood up.

I nodded and she put her hand possessively on the small of my back. We walked to her car and she opened the door for me and then went to the other side of the car to get in.

The ride was full with tension. Neither of us said anything but Leah’s hand was on my upper thigh the whole ride.

I got lost in my thoughts. Suddenly the car stopped and Leah walked to my side of the car and opened the door. She helped me out from the car and we walked inside her apartment building. It was big fancy building.

Once we got to the elevator she pushed me against the wall and smashed our lips together. I kissed her back and we made out intensively in the elevator.

Once we got to the highest floor we entered Leah’s apartment. A fricking penthouse.

"Wow. This is-" i started but Leah closed the door and once again pushed me against the wall.

"Y/n I need to know that you are okay with this?" Leah said with her lips right next to my ear.

I nodded. Not getting any words out of my mouth.

"I need a verbal answer. Are you okay with this?" She asked again.

"Y..Yes Leah" I said and licked my lips.

"Good" She said and attached her lips back to mine.

We made out for a while until she moved her knee to my pussy. I don't know what she did but I let an embarrassing sound from my mouth. She chuckled at me and pulled away.

"Go to my room. I'll be there soon" She said and I started walking. Then I realized that I don't know where her room is in this huge apartment. I was turning around to ask but she said "Down the hall, the last room".

I continued walking to her room. I opened the door and then I was in the most gorgeous room that I have ever been.

I sat on the bed admiring Leah’s room. It was quite dark. There were led lights that brought some light. They were really bright white color. There was two doors on the other side of the room and the other side was just  big window.

I heard steps coming towards the room. My pulse quickened and I felt red creeping on my cheeks. Leah opened the door and walked in. She was now wearing only pants and bra and she was holding two glasses with maybe water in them.

"My god you are beautiful y/n. I can't wait to have you. You are so pretty sitting there. My good girl. You just do things to me. I can't act normal around you at prac" She started. She walked next to me and put her hand on my face and then carefully to my neck.

"Beth has been teasing me about you for months now. She has noticed that I'm different around you" She continued.

"No I'm finally having what I have wanted for months. You" She ended her sentence.

Leah wants me.

Then I began to panic a little. 'Do I need to tell Leah that I'm a virgin. What if I don't know what to do. What if Leah thinks that I'm gross down there' I thought to myself.

Leah obviously noticed me becoming tense.

"Hey what's wrong" She asked.

"Nothing. It's just I.." I started. Do I really have to tell her that I'm a virgin.

"Y/n It's okay. I want you to be comfortable today. I won't do anything you are even the slightest uncomfortable with" Leah said comforting.

"It's just that I...I'm a virgin" I said. The last part was barely a sound. It was so quiet but for my surprise Leah just smiled.

"Well that's even better. I get to be the first one to show you how good you can feel. I get to show you what your body is able to do" She said and started kissing my neck.

"Now tell me y/n, have you ever had an orgasm?" Leah asked. I flushed bright red. Even more red than I was before.

"No" I answered quietly.

"I love that. I get to be the first one to show you what an orgasm feels like. And don't be so embarrassed, it's okay y/n. Relax a little" Leah said. And kissed my lips softly.

"I think you are little too dressed for this occasion" Leah said and flipped me over. She unzipped my dress and carefully removed it from my body. She then flipped me back so I was looking at her.

"God you are beautiful y/n" She said and put her hand gently around my neck.

"Today I'm gonna make you feel things that you have never felt. I'm gonna make you come over and over again. But now you need an safe word. When you say the word I promise I will stop everything I'm doing. You can say it if something hurts or if things feel just uncomfortable. I want you to enjoy this night" Leah said.

"I don't know. What should it be?" I asked confused

"Well it can be anything. Something that you will remember" Leah answered. She was kissing my neck.

"Umm Rose? It has spikes and it's red so I associate it with danger usually. It's also my favorite flower" I answered I was starting to ramble but then I decided to try to touch Leah put she pinned my hands above my head.

"Rose it is. Whenever you say that I promise I'll stop what i'm doing. And please if anything is uncomfortable tell me. We can take things slower. But now you are being really inpatient, aren't you" Leah said and licked her lips.

"Please can I touch you Leah?" I asked.

"Not yet Princess" She answered and my heart fluttered and the nickname. Leah continued kissing me. She unclasped my bra and threw it away. She swirled her tongue around my nipple and I just moaned. I couldn't help the sound leaving my mouth.

"Mhmm don't stop Lee. It feels good" I said breathing heavily.

"You are already moaning and I have barely touched you" Leah said and sucked my nipple. The words that Leah said made me wetter than I already was.

"Lee please I need more" I asked pleading.

"I know you want more but I promise you will feel even better if we do this slowly" Leah said and then started kissing my stomach. She went lower and lower until she was at my panties.

"Is it okay if I take these off?" She asked and immediately answered yes.

She used only her mouth to take them off. She threw them somewhere and then kissed my inner thighs. I was feeling super needy and I wanted her already to fuck me already.

"Please Lee. Please just please" I begged.

"Is my girl needy. You want to know how my mouth feels on your clit and my fingers inside you?" She asked.

"Yes. I want you to fuck me. Please" I said. I was feeling so weird. Everything was too much but not enough at the same time.

"Oh god Lee” I yelled when I finally felt her mouth sucking on my clit. She swirled her tongue around it at the same time. Just that could have made me explode.

She then dipped one finger in me easily. She tested if I was wet enough and the she pushed another in me.

"God yes!!" I moaned loudly. My breathing became heavier as something started happening inside me.

Leah was going a slow pace with her first tongue. She flicked it on my clit before starting a faster pace. Her fingers slowly curling so they were touching more of my insides. Then they hit a spot that made my back arch and my body felt like it was on fire.

"Fuck Leah right there. YESS" I yelled but Leah slowed down her pace. She then stopped and straddled me again.

"Don't come until I tell you to" She said and I was about to protest and then her thigh touched my clit and I moaned.

Leah smiled as she was looking at me. She slowly started to move her body and I started to grind on her thigh. My mouth opened and moans left it.

I was so vulnerable for Leah. I just wanted to pleaseher and not come but I was so close. Leah was controlling me but in a good way.

"Please" I whined.

"Not yet y/n" She said and brought her hand to my cunt and pushed her fingers inside again.

She was going fast with her fingers and again she started flicking my clit. Then she curled her fingers against the same spot that already made my back arch.

"Leah, I-I need t..to come" I was shaking under her. The feeling was so strong.

"Now. Do it. Come for me Princess" Leah said and I let the most ungodly sound. I felt like my body was on fire as it shook. Leah’s fingers were still moving inside of me. I tried to control the shocks going through my body but all I could do was moan.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.." I moaned as the white continued to cover my vision.

I cried out nonsense. My body was trembling with the overwhelming feeling. My pyssy was stretching and tightening around Leah’s fingers with every thrust.

Slowly I felt every movement stop. I could only hear Leah’s breathing and my own. My body felt numb but in the best way possible.

"Wow, that was... that was wow" I mumbled while panting.

Leah laughed a little. My body was still shaking.

"You were so good my princess. I know I keep telling you this but you are so incredibly beautiful. Especially when you come" Leah said and kiss my lips. It was more sensual, more gentle.

"Can- can I do that again?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah you can. I can make you come many more times but I bet you are really sensitive right now" She said and swiped my clit gently. I buckled my hips. My clit in fact was sensitive.

"But i wanna feel that again" I said pouting.

"Hmm I have an idea but I wanna know that you are 100% comfortable with it" Leah said and I nodded. Curious what she had in mind.

"I have a strap in that closet. Do you know what it is?" Leah asked and I nodded.

"What if we use that?" Leah suggested and once again I nodded.

"Princess give me a verbal answer" Leah said softly.

"Yes Lee, I want that" I needed something so badly I could have cried.

She then stood up and walked to the closet. She finally took her pants off and put the harnest on. She then walked back to me and layed next to me. She flipped me so I was on top of her next to the fake penis.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked

"100%. I promise" I answered.

"Good girl" Leah said and the praise made my heart beat faster. She grabbed lube from her nightstand and put it on the strap. It was now nice and slippery.

"Okay princess, Whenever you are ready" Leah said and put her hands in my hips.

I got on top of the strap and slowly started going down. Leah’s strong hands were supporting me as I slide down the dick. It was stretching me perfectly.

When it was fully in me tears started to form in my eyes because of the pleasure. I waited for a while to be comfortable and then I moved up slightly and then back down.

"Fuck. Lee, I feel so full. You are making me feel so full" I moaned.

"You are doing so good baby" Leah said and I moved my body against the dick. It hit so many good spots. She started to lift me slowly up and down on the strap.

I felt tears coming down from my eyes as I was slowly bouncing on the strap. Leah was praising me but I really couldn't hear them because I was so focused on chasing my orgasm.

I started to bounce faster and faster on the strap. Leah looked surprised at my pace.

"I- I-I'm gonna cum" I said and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

I kept bouncing on the strap and I brought my hand to rub my clit. Everything was perfect. Everything felt so good but little overwhelming.

Then it happened again. My body started to shake uncontrollably and I felt like million little shocks were going trough my body. I came hard on the strap. I could feel liquid come out of me.

Leah’s hands supported me as I really couldn't control my body.

"Rose. Rose" I quickly said when everything was too much. Tears in my eyes.

Leah immediately flipped us over and took the strap out of me. My body still shook a little because it was still climaxing.

"You are okay princess" Leah said and took the harness off. She then took a blanket and covered our bodies with it. She wrapped her arms around me as I came from my high.

"Are you okay?" She asked?

"Yeah. It was just little too much but wow it felt good" I said and laughed.

"Thank you for telling me that it was enough. And I'm glad you enjoyed it" She said and smiled. I smiled back at her and quickly fell asleep on her arms.

"Wake up. We are here" I heard. I opened my eyes and I was in a car. The car was parked in front of a bar. I was in a cab. 'What is going on?' I thought until I realized.

It was all a dream.

——

This is actually a fic i have written some time ago but i decided to post it here.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson #arsenal #wlw post

[writerscall]

i don’t have any specifics but i’d love to see you do a jealous hazel :>

author’s note/s: 873 words. this embarrassingly took me a while to finish but in my defense, i’ve been in a real slump for writing. but this definitely got the momentum back a bit! enjoy hazel not exactly enjoying when someone thinks you’re pretty the same way she thinks you’re pretty.

In spite of the collective fear that the fight club might disband after the game, either by school orders or with all of you growing apart with more and more schoolmates wanting to be friends, it stayed intact. Surprisingly no new recruits, but that was probably why the bond of the club was stronger than ever. You were all there from day one and you all knew everyone still wanted to be there, even if getting punched in the jaw or kicked in the shin still hurt like a bitch.

It meant continuing to have Hazel as an everyday fixture in your life, though, and you weren’t going to complain about that. Or about any of the new friendships you’ve created, of course — especially Stella-Rebecca, whose realization and acceptance that she’s actually a lesbian was a very entertaining sight to see.

“I feel no different, but I also feel like I should be doing something to be more out, you know?” She asks you one day as you’re washing your faces in the locker room after practice. “Like, maybe not go around wearing a t-shirt that says ‘lesbian,’ or ‘i love girls’ or something, but like… should I go shop for a cute flannel later?”

There’s a chorus of no, don’t do that among the burst of laughter, and you hope the look you’re giving her looks more sympathetic than amused. “Lesbians come in all kinds of outfits, Stella-Rebecca. Don’t worry about it.”

“Or, you know, in no outfit at all, I won’t mind,” PJ quips with a shit-eating grin. Josie audibly groans and promptly drags her out of the locker room.

“A top that says ‘i love girls’ would be pretty cute, though. I’d wear one,” you tell her. Hazel comes into view at that same moment, smiling at you knowingly through the reflection in the mirror. Your heart flutters as you smile back. It was no secret that you and Hazel have been participating in a will-they-won’t-they dance for a while now. Everyone — or at least everyone in the fight club — knew about it.

Which was why you found Stella-Rebecca’s next words so surprising.

“Maybe we can go look for one together. I think you’d look real cute in one, too.” She winks at you as she squeezes your shoulder, then says her goodbyes as she sashays away. Huh. You can’t help but smile to yourself in amusement, though it’s immediately wiped off when you notice Hazel staring (rather, glaring) after Stella-Rebecca’s retreating figure.

You turn away from the mirror, saying, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.”

“You know she’s flirting with you, right?” Hazel grumbles. “While I’m right here. Literally just right here, and then she still goes and does all that. She knows!”

“It’s not… she probably didn’t even mean it like that. Stella-Rebecca’s just very touchy and sweet—”

“I think I’m sweet to my friends too but I don’t go after people who are obviously accounted for.”

Okay, this was serious to her. Not that you had any intention of shrugging it off and letting Stella-Rebecca continue to flirt with you, if she would; you just didn’t think Hazel would take it so personally. She’s known the girl longer than you have and has definitely seen her flirt with other people before to know the difference between her being playful and actually being into it.

Then again, until recently, Stella-Rebecca was only coming on to boys.

You walk towards her, fighting the growing smile on your face as you take her own in your hands. “Your pout is really cute but there’s no need for it. I could go out with Stella-Rebecca after school every day of this week, even spend the whole weekend with her, and I’d still be ‘accounted for.’” Your nose wrinkles a bit at the last part. Hazel could either say the most random things or be strangely articulate.

She sighs, head tilting to the right in your hold. “Am I a horrible person for not liking the idea of you spending so much time with each other? I know you’re friends, we all are, but… I don’t know…”

“No,” you breathe out, rubbing your right thumb across her slightly smushed cheek. “It’s a hypothetical situation, anyway. The most she’ll get of me is one day because we’ve got a bunch of after school dates lined up, remember? We’ve got all those Lego plants to build.”

“The new additions to my botanical collection,” Hazel says, her mood noticeably picking back up. You give her face a gentle squeeze before wrapping your arms around her shoulders instead. Her arms wrap around your waist not a second later. “Yeah, the succulents came in yesterday. I think you’ll really like them.”

You smile at her. “You know I will.”

The feeling of her relaxing in your arms makes you relax too, although she’s still got that look on her face. Well, a different one now; like she was battling between saying something or shoving it down.

“What—”

“You and Stella-Rebecca can get matching ‘i like girls’ shirts, but only if we get matching ‘girlfriends’ ones.”

Oh. Not in a bad way, but still… oh.

There’s a part of you that’s thinking, already? but you’re a little too giddy about her clarifying what she wants — and it being exactly what you want too — to do anything but nod and beam at her. “Whatever you want, Hazel.”

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fanfic #requests