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mapileonxputellas · 1 month

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Beckham II: 3 Nerves

The third part is finally here! I hope you enjoy.

Masterlist can be found here.

9th February 2023

“Breaking news this lunch time, Sarina Weigman had named her squad for the Arnold Clark cup and included in the squad for the first time in nearly 4 years is Y/N Beckham.” England squads weren’t typically breaking news on the main news channels but this was no ordinary squad announcement. “Widely considered as one of the best players on the planet, Beckham has not been including in an England squad since the 2019 World Cup and her return dominated the press conference.”

Squad announcement press conferences are usually comminated by a few stories, the surprise inclusions, the ones who don’t quite make the cut. However when the list was read out it was immediately clear what all the questions would be about today as the eyes of world football turned to Sarina.

“Sarina can you tell us more about Beckham’s inclusion? Why has this decision been taken now after 4 years?”

“I know you’re all probably very interested in that so I’ll try and answer all of your questions. This hasn’t been a simple process for either party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been watching her since I became England manager but it’s not that simple and we had to respect the fact that Y/N did not want to be called up. Over the past few weeks I’ve been working closer with her and we’ve agreed that now is the right time to see if we can make progress.”

“The squad has changed a lot since then but there are still players who would were in the squad in 2019, have you spoken to them about this?”

“I have not, I’d like to think that all players support each other and I know my players well enough to know that they will do all they can to make Y/N feel welcome in this environment both on and off the pitch.”

“Do you have any concerns around her desire to play for England and play for the badge. Will she have lost that fight in the past four years?”

“I can not prove that to you and I guess none of us will know the answer until she plays for England again but I would not pick any player I had those concerns about. I’ve watcher her play a lot for Barcelona and over this past year especially I’ve seen a freedom to her play. I just hope that we can all see that side of her in an England shirt.”

“David, were you shocked when the announcement was made?”

“I mean obviously we spoke about prior to the announcement but when she told me I wasn’t exactly shocked. It just annoyed me that people questioned her mentally because she is so strong now.”

…..

Everyone could tell you were anxious. Since the announcement on Thursday you’d been quieter than usual in training, your usual sweet laughter which your teammates loved had been replaced by a strained giggle and they could see you’d been putting pressure on yourself in every department.

Everything had to be perfect.

In the four days since your decision had been made public you’d received support from all your teammates but you could see they were also worried. Many of them had been here when you joined, they’d seen the aftermath and many of them had been your shoulder to lean on for months after.

Many of them watched on now as you retreated into your room, barely giving a second glance to the games currently taking place in the dining room, a tradition you were a usual member of the night before an away game.

Alexia and Mapi had noticed the changes just like everyone else, the three of you had a strong connection both on and off the pitch. Alexia had become an older sister figure to you and Mapi was your platonic soul mate. They knew your habits unlike anyone else and when the notebook you used for anxious tattoo scribblings had been out the entire journey to Mallorca it was clear your mind was elsewhere.

“You grab the pillows.”

“I’ll grab the blankets.”

The two of them scurried off to their own rooms, finding their entrusted items before meeting back at the door which they knew you would be behind. You wouldn’t have gone outside, your shy nature meant you struggled to have confidence in new cities, preferring to explore with others rather than alone as the sun went down.

Alexia knocked on the door, a moment of panic striking as they thought you weren’t going to answer before the door creaked open. Your wide-eyed figure stood in the crack, still in the tracksuit you’d travelled in rather than pyjamas.

“What’s going on?” The tree of you quite often spent the nights in each other’s hotel rooms, though those meetings were usually pre-planned.

Only you knew from the worried expressions on their faces this wasn’t a call to watch the latest film that had been released. “We’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

You should have known that answer was never going to satisfy them. “Please can we come in.”

It wasn’t even worth trying to persuade them, not really. “Sure.” They couldn’t miss the sigh you let out as the door swung open. “Make yourself comfy.”

In the matter of minutes you’d gone from sprawling over the double bed alone to shuffling between the two players, being welcomed into the arms of Alexia as the three of you shuffled under the duvet.

“We’re worried about you.” MarÍa admitted, smoothing down the hair draped around your face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure because I bet if we looked in that notepad we’d find more anxious doodles than before. You’ve barely spoken two words to anyone since the news broke out.”

“I read an article-“

“Didn’t I tell you to stop that.” Alexia scolded you. “Those journalists don’t know anything about you.”

“But they don’t know that.” You argued back. “They’ll be reading about how ‘cocky’ I am on and off the pitch, how I flaunt my money, how I think I ‘own the team’.”

“If they believe that then they really have no eyes. Then they’ll see how you’re one of the shiest players on the team, they’ll learn how you could live in mansion but donate so much money to charity, they’ll see how much you work on the team as a whole. You do everything for football and they need to see that.”

“If they don’t love the person they’ll come to know then that’s on them.” Alexia agreed with her.

“Are you sure this isn’t about a certain blonde centre back?” MarÍa teasingly questioned you. “Maybe this isn’t about you being nervous about the articles and more about going into gay panic around Miss Williamson.”

“I told you that in confidence that you’d never bring it up again.” It was true, a few years ago you had confided in the two of them that you used to have a small (very large) crush on Leah at the time.

“And I’m tired of you being the third wheel in our flat, you’ve rejected every opportunity for me to set you up with one of my friends so now I have to think that it’s because you’re still pining for the girl.”

“I’m not pining for anyone, it was a stupid crush which has gone in the four years that I haven’t spoken to the girl.”

“Would you like to speak to her again?” Alexia asked.

“I mean obviously I’m going to have to, she’s the captain of the team.”

“Message her now.”

“No.”

“Why not?” I could only think of a million reasons why I wasn’t about to do that.

“Because like I said, I haven’t spoken to her in nearly four years and it would be weird for me to just message her the night before we see each other again.”

“So lets role play it then, you walk into the hotel tomorrow and she’s there, what are you going to say?” Alexia asked the question you’ve been asking yourself all week.

“Hi.”

Both of them looked like they wanted to tear out both their own and your hair. “Ok you can’t just say that.”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“How are you? Ask her about her life?”

“You want me to speak to the girl for the first time in years and ask her basically how she’s been since we went from speaking every day to unfollowing each other on social media and avoiding any chance of meeting since then.” You needed better friends in situations like this. “I’m not going heavy on our first conversation.”

“You will need to talk about.”

“I know but it’s not just her I need to have that conversation with, I was close with a lot of them and now I’m not. They should be just as involved in that conversation as Leah is.”

“Maybe you could design her a little tattoo, something like ‘I love Y/N’ on her forehead.” MarÍa teased you. “Matches your ‘I love Leah’ on your chest.”

“Shut up, just so you know I’ll never stop cockblocking you and Ingrid, I’ll be round for tea when I get back.”

“Bonnie told me she wants to live with me all the time by the way, said something about her mum abandoning her.”

“Fuck off MarÍa.”

….

The first person to reach out to you wasn’t exactly someone you expected. Mary Earps wasn’t exactly in your friendship group back in 2019, though because she was a part of that squad she was one of the players who you unfollowed in the following unfortunate events. You definitely therefore were not expecting to see her name pop up as you made your way through the airport, heading out to the car which would take you back to your parents’ house before you headed to the team hotel later on in the evening.

@1maryearps: See you later mate, we can’t wait to have you back x

Your emotions were so all over the place that maybe you should have expected this simple message to bring tears to your eyes. Maybe that meant you’d have at least one person on your side tonight.

You spent most of the meal with parents and siblings trying to do anything to avoid the thoughts about what was happening tonight coming back. You spoke to Harper about her homework, Cruze about his latest holiday and Romeo about his girlfriend. Brooklyn could almost sense your nervousness and kept up the conversation, which was all fine until you had to leave.

They knew how big this moment was and each gave you an individual goodbye before you got back into the car. As much as you would have liked to have taken your dad’s offer to drive you, this was all about being normal and being drove by David Beckham didn’t really give off that vibe.

You’d made this drive a million times before, only this time it seemed to take half the time and before you knew it the doors to St George’s Park were in view.

The only person in view was a single man holding a video camera, obviously preparing for the players’ arrivals This was hard and yet you knew this was probably the easiest step, he didn’t know you. You got out from the car, flashing a small smile to the camera as it trained on your every move, making sure to say a thank you to the driver, you turned to head inside.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” The camera man asked.

“Excited.” You couldn’t exactly tell him you were shaking inside. “I can’t wait to be back with this amazing team.”

“Two goals from you today….”

“All thanks to my teammates.” It was only the truth, you were basically set up for both goals by Aitana, you couldn’t do anything but put them in the back of the net.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you very much.”

If you were known for one thing it would be your punctuality, in fact you almost had a fear of being late. Maybe you’d done it on purpose this time to avoid greeting teammates in front of the camera but you were the first here judging by the table in the reception area being full of keys.

“Y/N it’s good to finally meet you in person.” Anja, one of the members of the England management team greeted you. “I hope you’re feeling well.”

“I’m glad to be here,” You settled for that. “I can’t wait to get back on that pitch now.”

“Well we’re glad to have you here. Here’s your key, we’ll meet in the dining area for a quick debrief at 8 and then you’ll have the night to yourself. Training schedules for the week are in your key pack.”

“Thank you.”

This place hadn’t changed one bit, from the entrance all the way up to your rooms you could trace the steps without even looking. You could hear noise out in the corridor but you stayed put, waiting for the clock to tick to 7:50 before making your way downstairs. With it being ten minutes early no one was there but Sarina and the coaching staff. Could this technically count as your first impression to them?

Their eyes trained on you as you entered the room. “Hey, thank you once again.”

“Stop saying thank you, this is all on you.” Sarina instructed, giving you a firm yet welcoming hug, an action which was repeated by the others. “Go and take a seat.”

“Thank-“ Maybe not. “Ok Sarina.”

You didn’t really know what to expect from the others, the squad was definitely a mixture of youth and experience. However even some of the more established players like Alessia and Ella were unknown to you on a personal level.

Thankfully maybe the first ones in were some of the younger players, Jess Park and Ebony Salmon were both the epitome of excitement as they entered the room saying a quick hello to the staff before slightly pausing when they found me sat on the first row.

“Hi.” You knew it was on you to make the effort. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Jess said taking the seat next to me. “You’re killing it at Barcelona.”

“Thank you, I’ve enjoyed watching you play this season. You’ll be an asset at city when you return.” You loved studying young players and watching their development. Jess was no difference in that, plus it helped to build up that connection on the team.

The volume in the room increased as more players entered. Some like Laura Coombs and Katie Zelem gave you a quick smile before taking their seats, other youngsters gave you a quick welcome.

The first real re-introduction you had was when Millie and Rachel entered, your eyes instantly connecting and it was Rachel who led the two of them over. You had always loved the two of them and almost let out a sigh of relief when they both greeted you with hugs, repeating how glad they were to see you. Lucy and Jordan followed suit, the two of them messing about and pulling you into a tight hug before taking their seats.

It was however the final people to enter the room that you were the most nervous about. Maybe you should have been thankful that when Keira, Georgia and Leah entered the room the meeting was about to start and all you could do was send a glancing look their way before Sarina had eyes on her.

She went through the logistics, just like happens every time before she got into the depths of the squad. “It would seem like this is the squad for reintroducing yourself. Laura hasn’t been with us since 2020 and Y/N in 2019. We just want everyone to remember that they’re here for a reason and we all play for England, we’re all a team.”

You blocked everything else out, vaguely scribbling down on your phone some notes about the timings and rooms you were needed in but it was all a bit of a blur. You took your time at the end speaking to some of the other girls, no-one seemed to be making a huge fuss about the situation but the trio had disappeared again and you knew you had to speak to them tonight before this started to interfere with the rest of the camp.

Thankfully you managed to find them, the three of them tucked away in the corner of the dining room, huddled around a laptop playing something in German.

“Hey.” Your voice almost cracked as you broke through the silence. “It’s good to see you all.”

You should have predicted really that Keira and Georgia would be your road in, though the two of them were fierce on the pitch they really were softies off it and you were almost knocked off your feet when they bounded up to you, both their arms wrapping around you in a hug.

“We can’t believe you’re actually here.” Georgia said. “This is just crazy.”

“It’s definitely different.” Leah finally joined in and that was the moment you knew even as she joined in the hug, she was the one who would be the toughest to crack. She wasn’t going to let you in just as easy but the captain part of her probably forced her to not let it show around others. “Glad to have you back on the team.”

“Thank you.”

“Take a seat.” Keira glanced to the free chair next to Leah. “We were just watching Georgia make a fool of herself, want to join?”

“Yeah I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”

#woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #beckham #barcelona femeni #lionesses #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson #engwnt #lionesses x reader #lionesses imagine

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heavenlyhischier · 3 months

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𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞)

word count: 6k

summary: from the moment you met nico hischier, you were enchanted by him.

warnings: platonic!jack x reader, unrequited love (?), sorts angsty, drinking, slight jealous nico, trevor x reader implied but for like literally a second, unedited

note: this is very prologue-esque and more of a background to the actual story so yeah. questions, comments, concerns are always welcome

Being five years old and one of the only kids on your street wasn’t exactly fun, but when the Hughes family bought the neighboring house and your mom told you that they had three sons, you were over the moon. You didn’t care that they were all boys, you were just glad to have potential friends that you could play with, even if it meant learning how to play a sport. However, no one ever expected you to become attached to the hip of Jack Hughes, and him to yours.

From the moment you met, he was your best friend. He included you in everything, taught you how to play street hockey, and he even yelled at his brothers if they were being a little mean to you. People often told the two of you that you were destined to get married, but neither of you agreed. You both knew you were always going to be by each other’s side, just as best friends, for as long as you lived. Even years later, and a few relocations, the two of you were never far from each other.

OCT 2019

“Jack, are you sure they don’t mind me coming,” You asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, “I don’t want to intrude on your team thing.”

You leaned forward over the center console so you could look at Jack, ignoring Ty’s quiet chuckles as he drove to his teammates house. Nerves crawled across your skin as the thought of meeting his teammates slowly inched closer to reality. This was different from meeting his friends from World Juniors; these were professional hockey players making more money than you could ever dream of. Your eyes were wide and swimming with worry as Jack turned to look at you, his lips turned up in a smile as he shook his head.

“It’s fine,” He said your name through a breathy laugh, “I promise. Besides, they all really want to meet you.”

“And see if he’s lying about you not being his girlfriend,” Ty added, casting you a playful wink before turning back to the road.

“Yeah, that too,” Jack feigned annoyance as you rolled your eyes, “But mostly they just want to meet the person I talk to all the time.”

With Jack’s reassurance, you leaned back in the seat and closed your eyes, trying to bring your heart rate back to a normal speed. The sounds of the city faded into a hum as you relaxed into the cool leather of the Range Rover, trying to clear your mind of the anxious thoughts that plagued you any time you were to meet new people. Jack being by your side brought comfort, but that unfortunately didn’t stop the knots from twisting in your stomach.

What if they didn’t like you? What if you embarrassed yourself in front of them? What if Jack stopped talking to you because you didn’t fit in? That thought alone made you want to hurl in the backseat of the car, but the feeling of the car stopping followed by seatbelts unbuckling tore you away from the insecurities and back to reality.

Ty and Jack shared a look with each other as you stared at the house, gripping the edge of the seat like you were about to fall out of it. Ty hops out of the car and makes a beeline straight for the house, while Jack opens your door and gently grabs your wrist, tugging your body out of the car. He’s known you long enough to know that you would talk your way out of going inside if he gave you the opportunity, so he didn’t.

“C’mon, they’re gonna like you, I promise,” He tried as the two of you walked towards the door, “Plus, they probably want to ask you how you’ve put up with me for so long.”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, pushing back the feeling of being a foreigner amongst hockey stars and their girlfriends. You didn’t want to ruin your only chance at a first impression because you were nervous, so you put up the best facade you could as Jack pushed the door open. He glanced at you one last night, jerking his head as a signal for you to go before him, and you did.

People you’ve only seen in pictures were scattered across the house, only a few of them breaking conversations to glance at you. Those who did, were instantly on their feet and making their way towards you with beaming smiles and a teasing glint to their eyes. You forced yourself to let go of the fabric of your dress that you had been crumbling between your fists, extending your hand to meet who you knew to be Andy, thanks to what you’ve seen on twitter.

“Hey guys! You must be Y/N,” He greeted, carefully shaking your hand, “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Andy and this is my wife, Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” You grinned as you swapped his hand with his wife’s, hoping that your own wasn’t damp with sweat, “Thank you so much for including me.”

“Any friend of Jack’s is a friend of ours,” Andy stressed the word, brows slightly lifting as he glanced between the two of you.

“Well, I truly appreciate it,” You laughed, “Jack’s more like an annoying brother, so it’ll be nice to know other people in the city.”

Jack stayed close enough to your side as some of his teammates slowly filtered towards him, greeting them in their own ways before they moved to introduce themselves to you. You slowly felt the weight lift from your shoulders as they treated you with nothing but kindness and like you were no different than them. You’d barely been able to move from the door since your arrival, too busy making introductions and brushing off comments about Jack being your boyfriend.

Then, you watched as a guy who was easily the most attractive person you’d ever seen in your life approached you with kind eyes and a gentle smile. He had his hair tucked underneath a backwards cap, his body clad with dark jeans and a tan shirt that hung loosely over his frame. You forced yourself to look away, eyes darting to the floor as you, once again, grasped at the fabric of your dress. Jack takes notice to the way your body language shifts, and a coy smile toys at his lips, but he knows now isn’t the time to tease you.

“Hi, I’m Nico,” He reaches his hand out to you once he’s standing right in front of you.

His eyes were brown; the kind of brown that reminded you of fresh soil in a blooming garden. His voice was deep and accented in a way that enveloped you like a warm and comforting blanket. His touch made your heart race and nerves bubble in your chest as you take his hand in your own. It was weird how quickly you felt yourself become attracted to someone you quite literally just met, but you were going to keep it to yourself for as long as you could.

“Hi,” You shyly introduce yourself, the hair on your arm raising, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” He smiled, dimples denting his cheeks in a way that almost sent you to your knees.

You dropped his hand, your own falling to your side, and you swear you saw Nico drag his eyes up and down the length of your body. Suddenly regretting your outfit choice, you cleared your throat and turned away from him and towards Jack, who had been watching the interaction with an amused smile. You narrowed your eyes at him, earning a laugh as he shook his head.

Your head snapped towards the large group of people when you heard your name being called, “Why don’t you come tell us how you’ve managed to put up with Jack for so long?”

NOV 2020

Going back home for American thanksgiving was thrown off the table the second Toronto had one of its biggest storms in years. The airport, and many surrounding others, were shut down with an undetermined date of reopening due to so much damage. With your mom being American, your family celebrated both Canadian and American thanksgiving, but your school schedule only allowed you time to go back home in November, and you’d been looking forward to it for months. The second your mom called you with the news, you couldn’t help but deflate in disappointment.

When Jack found out you were missing the holiday with your family, he immediately extended an invite for his team party to you. It wasn’t going to be much, he had said, just some of the wives and their girlfriends, including his own, having dinner. You initially declined the offer, telling him you didn’t want to third wheel, but it wasn’t until Jack’s girlfriend showed up at your apartment door to get ready with you that you truly realized how badly you wanted to go.

“Thank you,” You said for the hundredth time, smoothing out the wrinkles in your shirt before following her out the door.

“Stop thanking me,” She playfully rolled her eyes, “No one should have to be alone on Thanksgiving, and Jack agreed when I suggested I come over and “make” you come with us.”

Knowing that she came on her own accord made tears line your eyes, and it made you feel welcome. Out of all of his previous relationships, none of them ever made you feel comfortable like she did. They all tried to force you out of his life because they were convinced you were in love with him or vice versa, but not Ava. Ava was gentle and she was kind, and you had no idea how Jack managed to pull her.

You followed her out of your apartment building and to the parking spot Jack’s car was occupying. You slid into the backseat, responding to Jack’s greeting with one of your own as Ava put all of her stuff in the trunk. Once everyone was buckled in and ready to go, Jack set off to whoever’s house the dinner was being hosted at and the three of you fell into natural conversation, making the drive there fly by.

You helped them carry the food they brought inside, poking fun at Jack because you knew he didn’t cook any of it. He insisted he was actually a phenomenal chef, but you were quick to remind him of the undercooked chicken from the week prior, and he went silent. When you walked inside, you were shocked to see so many of the guys and their significant others spread throughout the house. Most of them weren’t from the states, and you fully expected them to be home, but you supposed they couldn’t pass up the bonding opportunity.

You followed the couple into the kitchen, listening to Ashlee’s instruction of where to set the tray of desserts in your arms. When you turned to follow after Jack and Ava to go mingle with some of the others, you ran straight into the chest of the one person you didn’t want to be alone with.

Nico’s hands carefully grasped your biceps to keep you steady as your hands instinctively flew to his chest. The feeling of his calm heartbeat underneath your palms was a stark contrast to your own as it slammed into your ribcage and your thoughts became hazy underneath his heavy stare. You swallowed thickly, slowly craning your neck to meet his eyes. He had a smile plastered on his face, his facial hair reduced to nothing but stubble now, as his dark eyes gazed into your own.

“Careful, ” He teased as his thumbs rubbed subtle circles against you, making your skin light on fire.

“I didn’t know you were right there,” You mumbled, your cheeks growing warm at the unfamiliar nickname as your fingers slightly scrunched the fabric of his shirt.

“I could tell,” He laughed, “I didn’t know you were coming today. I figured you would go back to your family.”

You couldn’t help but let your shoulders slump at the mention of your family, your eyes falling to the ground as you dropped your hands and pinched at the hem of your shirt, “I was supposed to, but the weather is too bad for planes right now. So, I stayed here instead.”

Nico, noticing the shift in your demeanor, dropped his hands down to your elbows, squeezing them gently as he spoke, “I’m sorry. Being away from family is not easy, but helps to focus on the people around you. That’s what I do when I miss home.”

You tried to cover your pathetic sniffle by clearing your throat, but he picked up on it anyway. Nico was quick to pull you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your upper body as you instinctively wrapped your own around his waist. His embrace was warm and it was safe as silent tears slid down your cheeks, your hold tightening ever so slightly.

While you wouldn’t say you were the closest with Nico, he had grown to be someone you considered a friend during your time in Jersey. He always treated you with nothing short of kindness and respect, and that didn’t help the ever growing crush you had on him. You occasionally let yourself believe that his lingering touches and flirty comments meant something, but you were always quick to slap yourself out of it. You knew better, or you thought that you did.

“Let’s go out there and enjoy the dinner,” Nico suggested as he pulled away from you, voice soft and gentle, “You can sit with some of us at the “singles table”.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You shyly smiled as you wiped at your cheeks to get rid of the any evidence of your sadness.

You sit with Nico and a few others at what he dubbed the “singles table”, which was really the couch closest to the door, mingling and laughing as they talked about whatever came to mind. Though, it was a little hard for you to focus with Nico’s thigh pressed against your own and his arm slung across the back cushion behind you. To make matters worse, every time he leaned forward to grab his drink, he would delicately place his hand on your knee, and it made your body light on fire.

Jack noticed the two of you walk out of the kitchen together, subtly elbowing his girlfriend as he watched you sit on the couch. She watched with wide, adoring eyes as gushing whispers of how cute the two of you would be filled Jack’s ears. When he met your gaze, he passed you a teasing wink, laughing when your face flushed and shook your head, forcing your eyes away from his own.

When it was time to eat, everyone filtered over to the multiple plastic tables that had been pushed together to make one long one. You made sure to take the seat next to Ava before anyone else could, and Nico took the spot on the other side of you. You ignored her stifled giggles and the way Jack raised his eyebrows, choosing to keep yourself occupied with passing along the various items being handed across the group of people.

Loud voices filled the room as a few of the guys brought the food out, setting the large turkey in the middle of the table with sides surrounding it. You fawned over the mashed potatoes with Ava, but Nico pulled your attention away when he pointed at the green bean casserole with his face twisted in disgust and asked what it was. She subtly elbowed you in the side, silently teasing you as your face flushed and your eyes brightened the moment you looked at him.

“It looks,” He paused, his eyes flitting down to you, “Unappealing.”

“Don’t worry,” You laughed, as you smoothed the napkin in your lap, “I don’t like it either, but it’s unfortunately a staple for the holiday. You should try it. It might surprise you.”

“Maybe. That’s happening a lot lately,” His voice trailed into a whisper, his eyes darting to his plate in front of him as he shifted in his seat.

You tried not to read too much into what he said or his actions following, choosing to instead fall into conversation with the others around you. Everyone ate, joked, and told stories of their life before Jersey, and it made the time fly by. Before you could really grasp it, everyone was packing up their things and helping clean the house before they departed for the evening. You and Ava assisted a few of the wives and girlfriends with the dishes, wanting to get them done so Ashlee didn’t have to worry about them tomorrow.

Once the house was cleaner than it was when everyone arrived, people started to filter out the front door after bidding those still present a goodbye. A few still stood off in corners and mingled with each other, waving at those who called their names as they slipped out of the door. You held a small container in your hand as you followed Ava out of the kitchen, passing everyone smiles and side hugs as you went. Jack’s hovering near the door with a few of the guys, Nico included, waiting for the two of you.

“Ready,” Jack asks as he slings his arm across Ava’s shoulders, “We’re going to go back to mine and Ty’s place and hang out if you guys want to come.”

You watched the way Nico’s body stiffened, his eyes avoiding your own as he nervously cleared his throat, “I already have plans, but maybe next time.

“Yeah, he’s meeting up with Mia,” Miles dragged out her name, clapping Nico on the back as he teased his friend, “I’ll swing by though. I’m not doing anything.”

Ava and Jack didn’t miss the way your entire body sunk, your gaze falling to the floor as your hands tightly grasped at the container. You felt stupid for being so upset by the news, but you should’ve known better than to let yourself think that Nico’s flirting meant anything. You’d been surrounded by hockey players almost your whole life, you know that it was all fun and meaningless for them, and he was no exception.

“Alright,” Jack spoke, trying to shove some of the newfound anger towards his teammate down his throat, “We’ll meet you there. See you later, Nico.”

Nico couldn’t help but let his eyes land on you again, and it wasn’t hard to notice the way your demeanor had changed. The brightness in your eyes and smile were faint now as you waved goodbye to everyone behind you. Jack and his girlfriend didn’t bother to spare a second glance at him as they walked out of the house and out into the frigid New Jersey air, and neither did you.

SEPT 2021

With Jack finally moving out of Ty’s apartment and into his own this season, he decided to have his own version of a house warming party. He and Ava had broken up before the summer, neither of them wanting to do long distance since she was moving across the country for her new job. That left the decorating and most of the party planning to you, which you preferred anyways. If it was up to Jack, he’d slap a keg in the middle of his apartment, buy one bag of chips for everyone, and call it good.

The two of you spent the better part of the day cleaning his apartment and getting what little furniture and decorations he had put up around his place. He did, however, listen to your advice a lot better than you thought he would’ve, but you knew it was only because he was nervous about having everyone over in what was his first place to himself. He even went out and bought a few random decorative pictures to hang on the wall because he felt like it was too bland, but you replaced them with pictures he had of his family and friends, and of the team.

Hours later, Jack’s apartment was littered with people he’d met during his time in Jersey. Most you knew, some you didn’t, and others you didn’t want to thanks to their nasty sneers when you would talk to him. Being ridiculed by Jack’s relationships, a term you used very loosely, seemed to increase tenfold now that his fame consistently grew. For the most part, it didn’t bother you, but you did have to delete your original instagram account and start a whole new, private account to keep yourself a little sane.

You were in the kitchen getting yourself a new drink when you felt a presence weigh on your chest, and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Ever since Thanksgiving last year, you avoided interacting with Nico unless you had to. It was over dramatic on your part, a fact Jack often reminded you of, but you were trying to shake off the feelings you had for him. You wanted to be able to act normal around him, and every time Nico even spoke to you, you were thrown back to square one.

“Hey,” His voice was right behind you, “How was your break?”

You spun on your heels, your shoulder brushing against his chest because he was that close to you, and nearly stopped breathing the moment you met his stare. He’d cut his hair over the summer and let his beard grow up more than usual, and the sight made you want to melt. Guilt pitted in your stomach as you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t think about him like that anymore. It wasn’t fair.

“It was nice,” You mumbled, internally pleading with yourself to step away from him, “How was yours?”

“Yeah, mine was nice, too,” He lightly chuckled as his danced across your face, “So, I was wondering if you—”

“There you are,” Jack shouted as he pushed into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks as his eyes darted between the two of you, his eyebrows raising, “Matt just got here. He’s looking for you.”

Your mouth dropped open to respond, but Nico’s voice smothered your own, “Who’s Matt?”

The air in the kitchen thickened with an unknown tension, Nico’s stare returning to you as he watched your chest rapidly rise and fall. Your eyes were wide, pleading with Jack who looked just as lost as you were after he walked in on his best friend and now captain only centimeters apart. Swallowing thickly, you close your eyes and side step away from Nico before letting out a deep sigh.

“He’s my boyfriend,” You mutter, quickly walking away from the two men to go find the aforementioned boyfriend.

“What was that about,” You heard Jack ask, his tone slightly accusatory and clipped.

“Nothing.”

The rest of the night, you stayed glued to Matt’s side, letting him gush about how he was surrounded by his hometown hockey team. You found yourself searching for Nico more often than you cared to admit, but what was shocking to you was that he was already looking at you every. single. time. The moment your eyes would meet his, you willed yourself to look away from him and focus on the guy whose arm you were tucked under, but you couldn’t. He had you locked in.

To make matters worse, when the two of you managed to finally end up in the same circle of people that Nico was in, he was anything but nice to Matt. His usual gentle tone was replaced with short, harsh cords anytime he spoke to your boyfriend. It shocked you enough that you wanted to leave the party entirely, but Matt didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Thanks for having me, man,” Matt expressed, his face bright with excitement, “Hopefully I’ll see you guys again sometime soon!”

You broke up with him a week later.

DEC 2022

This last year was eventful, to say the least. You were in the hardest year of college, spending more time stuck in the library with a new group of friends as you all studied until your brains were fried to even pass junior year. When summer came, you went to Michigan with Jack like you always did, and you even had a very short and meaningless fling with Trevor. Though if Jack were to ask, nothing happened.

When you returned to school that September, you had an entirely new outlook on life. You were tired of trying to have a plan for everything, you were tired of holding on to things that weren’t good for you. You were going to lead your life with the intention of taking care of yourself, building yourself up instead of tearing yourself down because of others.

The moment Jack had called you to ask if you would be interested in tagging along with a few of his teammates for New Years Eve, you instantly agreed. The semester was a little stressful, yet still nothing compared to last year, and you hadn’t had much time to see Jack let alone go out. So when the opportunity presented itself to you, you were more than happy to oblige.

The bar was loud, the air sticky and damp as bodies pressed against each other and alcohol spilled onto the floor. You held on to Charlie’s hand as you shoved your way through until you could see the group of boys that were shoved in the same corner they always were. They were huddled in a circle, some of their bodies shielding you from seeing who all was there, but you knew you’d find out who was there soon enough.

“Hey guys,” You yelled over the mixture of loud music and voices, earning the attention from those in the group.

Jack was immediately pulling you into his chest as everyone called out your name in a greeting, tipsy smiles and slightly glazed over eyes already adorning their faces. When you finally escaped the arms of your best friend, a few of the others replaced him and tugged you into their side as you introduced Charlie, who looked slightly overwhelmed, to everyone. You were relaxed and carefree as you fell into conversation with the others, and then you saw him.

You hadn’t really spoken to Nico over the last year, only really speaking to him in formal pleasantries and passing comments about Jack. After his treatment towards your boyfriend ultimately led to you breaking up with him, you withdrew your affections and excessive kindness towards him. You treated him the same way you treated all of Jack’s other teammates, maybe even a little less kinder if you were being honest, and he didn’t even seem to notice.

His lips turned upwards into a careful smile as he tipped his drink towards you in greeting. You gave him a small smile in return before you forced your attention back to Charlie, but you still felt his gaze on you. You could always tell when it was him because it made the hairs on your arms raise; it made your heart rapidly beat inside of your chest even before you even knew it was him.

He didn’t try and approach you at all during the duration of the night, but you hadn’t expected him to. You stuck by Charlie’s side most of the night, not letting her too far out of your sight, and one of the guys was never too far behind either of you. Jack made sure that either himself or his teammates had an eye on you at all times, knowing that the holiday caused people to act out, and he didn’t want anything to happen to you.

It was five minutes till the clock would hit midnight, and you were huddled in the corner with everyone after dancing for what seemed like hours. You had a new drink in your hand, Dawson’s arm slung around your shoulders, and a tipsy smile on your face as everyone mingled with each other. Jack had snuck off with Charlie somewhere a while ago, and you were not naive enough to go searching for them, so you stuck by the group of hockey players and their partners.

Despite Nico not uttering a single word to you the entire night, you felt the burn from his stare almost the whole time. You avoided looking in his direction, knowing that you would fall back into the enchantment that was Nico Hischier after working so hard to break free from it. You were focusing on things that brought you peace, and Nico brought you anything but.

“Guys, a minute left til midnight,” Shara shouted over the music, “Where is Jack?”

“Occupied,” You and Dawson called out at the same time before falling into laughter.

Those with partners pulled them closer to them, smiles on their faces and giggles falling from their lips as the music cut out and a countdown started. You accidentally met Nico’s eyes as your gaze wandered, and the way he was white knuckling his drink made confusion settle in your chest. Though, you didn’t have much time to dwell on it when you heard Dawson’s soft voice call your name.

“What do you say,” He raised his eyebrows, asking the question bouncing through his brain without outright saying it, “Just as friends, of course.”

With the crowds of people counting down from ten around you, you playfully rolled your eyes, but turned your body more towards him anyways. Kissing Dawson was not going to mean or change anything between the two of you, so you figured there was no harm in doing it. The moment the clock hit one second, you stood on your toes and pressed your lips against his until an eruption of cheers filled the bar.

It was short and simple, both of you pulled away from each other when laughter escaped through your lips. You let him pull you back into his side while everyone was pulling each other into hugs or clapping each other on the back. However, you were so focused on everyone else around you, that you missed the way Nico was glaring daggers into his younger teammates skull.

A few days later, you’re sitting at the counter of Jack’s apartment after his practice earlier that day. He was rambling on about their upcoming game against the Red Wings, shuffling through his fridge in search of food. He pulled out a small container of what looked like leftover pasta, his hands flying around him as he spoke.

“You want to know what’s weird, though,” He called over his shoulder as he opened the microwave, “Nico’s been kind of a dick to Dawson since New Years, and no one can figure out why. It’s kind of messing with Mercs, too.”

You nearly choked on your coffee with the new information, your eyes widening as you attempted to catch your breath. Jack’s brows shot up as he watched you stumble over your words, your hands clawing at the counter top as you coughed. You tried to not let yourself get too hung up on the possibility that Nico didn’t like the fact that you kissed Dawson, that maybe he was jealous. You couldn’t let yourself dance back into that dangerous territory again.

“You good,” Jack asked, leaning forward to give you a curious look, “You know something I don’t?”

“No,” You rushed out, shaking your head, “No. I mean, I don’t think this would matter to him, but I did kiss Dawson that night at the bar.” The second the words left your mouth, Jack doubles over in laughter as if he knew something you didn’t

APRIL 2023

The air was calm and cool as you sat outside some coffee shop, waiting for Jack and Nico to come back with the drinks. You were scrolling through your phone, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you read through your twitter feed. You were so far deep into a thread that you hadn’t even heard the two guys take their seats at the table, or the way they snickered to each other when you didn’t budge as your name was called.

It took a careful kick to your shin from presumably Jack to break you away from your trance, your head snapping up as the device clattered on the table. They were looking at you with raised brows and small smiles as you awkwardly cleared your throat and straightened your back, grabbing your drink from Nico as he slid it across the table.

“Took you guys long enough,” You playfully mumbled, bringing the cup to your lips.

“I’m surprised you even noticed we were gone with how invested you were,” Nico teased, his voice light and airy as his eyes stayed trained on your face.

Over the last few months, you had grown closer with him yet again, but this time it was on the premise of you only treating him as a friend. He had approached you one evening after a night out, apologizing for his distance and lack of effort in conversation, nearly whining when he asked if you two could start over. While your crush was still very much present, you agreed on the reset and opted to treat him the same way you treated everyone else as a way to protect your own heart.

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes as a light blush decorated your cheeks.

Jack calls your name as he glances up from his own phone, setting it down in front of him as he leans forward, “You’re coming to the lake house right? I know you’ve got most of the summer off from work.”

“Eventually,” You tear your eyes away from Nico, “Charlie’s wanting to go travel somewhere in Europe this summer for a little over a week, we just haven’t decided where.”

“Summer is in like, a month,” Jack points out, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yeah, trust me I know,” You groaned, throwing you head back in slight frustration, “I keep telling her we need to choose soon but she’s not sure where to go. She just knows she wants to go.”

“Come to Switzerland,” The words leave Nico’s mouth before he really registers he said it, though he doesn’t regret it either way, “I can show you around.”

Your eyes widen, snapping over to him as your jaw goes slack and your heart rate increases. You’re searching his face for any sign that what he said was a joke, that he wasn’t being serious, but all you were met with was his soft eyes and small smile that he always had. The fact that he appeared genuine in his suggestion made you nervous, it made your mind hazy and cloudy with mangled thoughts.

“Oh that’s a good idea,” Jack’s voice raised, a bright smile on his face, “I think you should do that. I know you’ll be safe with Nico, and I won’t freak out if you don’t text me back after ten minutes.”

“You still will,” You lightly laughed, “I mean, it sounds fun, but only if you’re sure? And I’ll have to ask Charlie, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“I’m sure. I’d love to show you around my home,” He beams, his leg slightly shifting so his calf brushes against your own.

Jack’s immediately rushing on about how he’ll call Charlie, and typically you’d tease him about that, but you were too focused on the man in front of you. The sun was hitting his face in a way that made his dark eyes shine brighter than anything around him, bringing you nothing but a warm blanket of comfort that overshadowed the rays of sun by a million miles. The effect Nico had on you slightly terrified you because you’d never felt this way towards anyone, but you were determined to keep that a secret for as long as you could. All you could do was hope and pray you could keep that up on a week long trip in his home country, the one place he truly felt relaxed and like himself.

stay tuned for pt two…

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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mightyflamethrower · 3 months

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15 Facts About E. Jean Carroll’s Allegations Against Trump the Media Don’t Want You to Know

1. Bergdorf Goodman has no surveillance video of the alleged incident.

2. There are zero witnesses to the alleged sexual attack.

3. Carroll first came forward — conveniently — with the allegations while promoting her book What Do We Need Men For? in 2019, which featured a list of “The Most Hideous Men of My Life.”

4. Carroll was unable to remember when this alleged attack even occurred. She told her lawyer in 2023, “This question, the when, the when, the date, has been something I’ve [been] constantly trying to pin down.” She has jumped years — originally beginning with 1994, then moving to 1995, and even floating to 1996. She cannot remember the season in which the alleged attack occurred either.

5. The Donna Karan blazer dress she claims to have worn during the alleged incident was not even available at the time of her claims. Trump Attorney Boris Epshteyn told reporters, “She said, ‘This is the dress I wore in 1994.’ They went back, they checked. The dress wasn’t even made in 1994.”

“And that’s why the date’s moved around. This is the 80s. Is it the 90s? Is it the 2000s? President Trump has consistently stated that he was falsely accused, and he has the right to defend himself,” he added.

6. She never came forward with these allegations over the years despite constantly being open about sexuality, posting things that were very sexual in nature on social media — many of which Trump has shared. They include remarks such as “How do you know your ‘unwanted sexual advance’ is unwanted, until you advance it?” and “Sex Tip I Learned From My Dog: When in heat, chase the male until he collapses with exhaustion … then jump him!”

7. She said she was never raped, telling the New York Times’ podcast, The Daily,“Every woman gets to choose her word. Every woman gets to choose how she describes it. This is my way of saying it. This is my word. My word is ‘fight.’ My word is not the ‘victim’ word. I have not — I have not been raped,” she continued. “I have — something has not been done to me. I fought. That’s the thing.”

8. She named her cat “Vagina.” “Her dog, or her cat, was named ‘Vagina.’ The judge wouldn’t allow us to put that in — all of these things — but with her, they could put in anything: Access Hollywood,” Trump told CNN.

9. Joe Tacopina, an attorney for Trump, pointed out in May 2023 that Carroll’s entire story has incredible similarities to a 2012 episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In that episode, titled “Theatre and Tricks,” an individual talks about a rape fantasy in Bergdorf Goodman — the same department store where Carroll claims the incident took place.

10. Speaking of shows, Carroll loved Trump’s show The Apprentice.

“I was a big fan of the show. Very impressed by it,” Carroll said on the witness stand, adding that she “had never seen such a witty competition on TV, and it was about something worthwhile, competing.”

11. Carroll made a joke associating sex with Bergdorf Goodman in a November 1993 edition of Elle, which was before the alleged Trump attack took place. As Breitbart News detailed:

Carroll was responding to a letter from a female reader concerned that she was having trouble achieving orgasm through sexual intercourse alone while the reader said that she could climax through foreplay. “Is there any way I could learn to reach orgasm through sex?” asked the reader in the November 1993 edition. “Maybe books I could read?” Carroll replied with the following advice (emphasis added): Dear Snowed Under: Stop flagellating yourself. Gadzooks! At least you have orgasms. And if that isn’t spontaneous sex I don’t know what is. Most women (about 70 percent) experience difficulties climaxing through intercourse alone. So you’re perfectly normal. Begin by reading For Yourself by Dr. Lonnie Barbach. She’ll give you excellent instructions on how to have an orgasm during intercourse. Then after 313 queenhell love-wiggles, move on to Gretta Garbo’s favorite love position – the top. (In erotic scenes, Garbo is always above the man. So are Sharon Stone, Bette Midler and Katherine Hepburn). Indeed, this location works better for women than the fourth floor of Bergdorf’s.

12. Carroll is financially backed by anti-Trump Democrat megadonor Reid Hoffman, who has openly admitted to visiting convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s private island.

13. Democrat party activists back her as well, as Breitbart News detailed:

Indeed, one of Carroll’s attorneys is Roberta Kaplan — a Democrat Party activist who led the group Time’s Up. She left the activist group after it was revealed she was aiding former New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo in attempting to discredit the Democrat’s accusers. It served as a great irony as Time’s Up seeks to defend women from what it claims is discrimination and harassment. This fact has led to mounting speculation that Kaplan only gets involved in cases that she views as politically expedient. Further, Federal District Judge Lewis Kaplan is overseeing the process and has connections to Carroll’s other attorney, Shawn Crowley. She was actually a law clerk for Judge Kaplan, and he officiated her wedding. That aside, Trump has denied knowing the left-wing activist as the only evidence of any contact is a single picture with Carroll greeting Trump and his ex-wife Ivana at an event greeting line over 35 years ago. Carroll has yet to provide solid evidence of this alleged encounter and will not use the dress that she claims had DNA on it from this alleged incident. Even Trump publicly said the dress should be part of the case. Further, there are no eyewitnesses of this alleged incident, which supposedly occurred at the popular New York City department store.

14. The lawsuit was only able to proceed after Democrats created the Adult Survivors Act in 2022. She conveniently pursued this suit in November following the law going into effect, which allowed her to avoid the statute of limitations for this case.

15. Carroll once said, “Most people think of rape as sexy.”

Donald Trump Jr. also retweeted a list of facts about Carroll, urging others to take a look:

- She couldn't recall the date, month, season, or year the incident happened -

She never told anyone about it, despite being publicly obsessed with her own sexuality -

The dress she claims to have been wearing didn't exist at the time -

Her description of the dressing room at Bergdorf Goodman was inaccurate, making her sequence of events impossible -

Her lawsuit was bankrolled by Jeffrey Epstein pal and Democrat (and Nikki Haley) mega-donor Reid Hoffman -

Democrats created a law (The Adult Survivors Act in 2022) to enable her lawsuit to proceed - Her accusation is the exact plotline of an episode of Law & Order (one of her "favorite shows") -

Trump's Apprentice was also one of her favorite shows -

She has a history of falsely accusing men of r*pe, including Les Moonves - She told Anderson Cooper, "most people think of r*pe as being sexy. Think of the fantasies." -

She made a career promoting promiscuity, even writing glowingly of sexual assault and naming her cat Vagina

We owe Stalin and Hitler a huge apology. We are ever so bad as they ever were. This isn't Justice. Its punishment for for disobeying the deep state elites.

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greynatomy · 4 months

Text

you made it

leah williamson x reader

last fic of 2023 (at least from where i am)

i want to thank all who’ve read all that i’ve put out this year and all the mutuals i’ve made. i appreciate each and every one of you.

hope you all have a happy new year!

———

Leah Williamson, the captain of England who led her team to victory in the Euros, was rushing through the streets of London, rushing to get back home, apologizing to all she runs into.

Leah was invited to a ‘party’ with many other athletes all the way in New York. She’d told her agent to decline the invitation, but she couldn’t get out of it. She usually had a plus one with her, but not tonight.

‘Who would throw an event like this on New Year’s Eve?’ She thought.

After winning the Euros, the captain was invited to even after event, hardly any breaks in between on top of her ACL recovery. Finding some time for herself is rare, but not impossible. She makes it work. But right now, her priority is to get home as soon as possible.

—

Leah is back home in Milton Keynes at some neighborhood party time ring in 2018. She’s just sign her senior contract for Arsenal a couple months back and is at an all time high.

Mingling around the house with people her age, she decided to step outside a bit for some space. Walking towards the pool, she sees someone sat on the edge of it.

“Think I could join you?” Leah asked rather timidly.

“Go ahead.” You gestured to the spot next to you.

Leah mirrors you, taking her shoes and socks off, splashing her feet in the water a bit. When you finally turn your head towards her, her breath got caught in her throat.

‘Beautiful’ She thought.

Talking to you was like a breath of fresh air to Leah. It was as if she knew you for longer than the hour you both sat by the pool. You both weren’t aware of the time until you heard everyone else inside counting down.

Leah looks a bit nervous when you turned your head towards her, so you placed your hand on her arm.

Leah however, was even more nervous now. Your touch sent sparks throughout her body, something she’s never felt before.

Leah turns her whole body to face you, where you were already looking at her. She timidly reaches over and delicately places a hand on your cheek, leaning her face closer.

“May I?” She asks in a whisper.

You hold her wrist, the one by your face and lean in, closing the gap.

Your lips were soft, molding perfectly with Leah’s. She closes her eyes, relishing in the moment. After what felt like forever, you pulled away, much to Leah’s disappointment.

“Wow.” Was the first thing Leah said, seeing a blush creep up onto your cheeks, her cheeks doing the same.

You bite your bottom lip to stop the corner of your lips from rising. You get up from the side of the pool, grabbing your shoes, Leah copying.

“Thank you for the New Year’s kiss.” You say, backing away from where Leah is rooted from her spot.

“Thank you for letting me.” She replied. Just before you left, she called out to you. “I don’t even know your name!”

All you gave her was a smile and a wink, disappeared from her view.

New Year’s Eve 2019 was a bit similar as the year before. She was back in Milton Keynes, but stayed to celebrate back at home. Her mum invited a few friends.

It was nearing midnight, a minute before the clock struck twelve when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Leah smirked, leaning close. “It is my mum’s house.”

“Touché.”

You were each other’s New Year’s kiss for the second time in a row. But before you disappeared again, she caught your hand, pulling you incredibly close to her body.

“Would you want to go on a date?”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Do you know mine?”

You shook your head side to side.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful.”

“Yours?”

“Leah.”

“Well, Leah. It looks like you’ve got yourself a date.”

—

Right when Leah got off the plane, she rushed out the building, hoping to quickly catch a cab, which she fortunately got into one.

Sitting in the back seat, she checks her watch.

11:38

Twenty-two minutes until midnight.

“Is there a way around the traffic?” She asks the driver.

“It’s New Year’s Eve. Everyone’s trying to get home.”

She knows London like the back of her hand, and knew she was close to home, so she quickly pays the man, thanking him, and runs off, passing all the cars.

11:50

She runs a bit faster, already seeing her street from where she is. Many people staring at her, but she didn’t care, she just had to get home.

11:55

She was only a couple of streets away, making her more determined than ever. She’d be damned if she didn’t make it in time.

11:59

Arriving at the front door, she pats all her pockets, looking for her keys. She can hear everyone around the neighborhood counting down.

She rapidly knocks on the door, hoping for it to just magically open. It did right when the clock struck midnight.

You were, however, caught off guard when you feel lips pressed onto yours, about to push the person away when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

Wrapping your own arms around her neck, you deepen the kiss, cheers and fireworks can be heard in the background, neither of you paying any mind.

Pulling away, she rests her forehead against your, the both of your catching your breath.

“You made it.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to break the bubble you two are in.

“You’ve been my New Year’s kiss since 2018, I’d be damned if I ever missed one.” Leah pulls you back in for another kiss, before kneeling down and giving your bump a soft kiss. “It’s also our last one as a family of two.” She looks up at you from her kneeling position.

“Oh, how I love you so much.”

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader

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randombush3 · 5 months

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audentes fortuna iuvat

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two

words: 9541

summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III

content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x

notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛

“Y/n left me.”

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you.

“What?” says Jenni.

“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.”

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?”

“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know.

Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home.

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.”

“Are you angry at her?”

“Yes.”

Alexia thinks about it.

“No.”

“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.”

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.”

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.”

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.”

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought.

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.”

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.”

“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well, I'm not angry at her.”

“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her.

“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?”

“Alexia, bésame.”

…

You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent.

Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful.

The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.

You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing.

Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been.

The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.”

Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose.

The doorbell rings again.

The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case.

You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you.

The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently.

You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue.

Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.

Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?”

She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you.

“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end.

“I…”

“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough.

Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.”

“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.”

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.”

Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side.

As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life.

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia.

The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head.

“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.”

Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.”

Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”

The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word.

When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.”

“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed.

Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous.

“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.”

She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true.

…

The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it.

Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona.

Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself.

“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.”

“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats.

You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”

“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her.

“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.”

Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.”

“You’re delirious.”

She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.”

“No lo sé.”

“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.”

“Claro.”

She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.”

“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal.

…

You’re married.

You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface.

You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time.

Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone.

“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.”

“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.”

Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.

You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”

Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel.

“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.”

“How?” you ask, but you are not offended.

Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.”

“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work.

“I left Mia with her dad for this.”

“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.”

Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.”

…

Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.”

“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.”

She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.”

“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?”

“I always want you to stay here,” she answers.

“Not what I meant.”

“I won’t take it back.”

Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”

“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.”

“Does that count?”

“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation.

Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.”

“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?”

“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)

Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.”

“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible.

…

November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers.

Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.

Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.”

You and Jenni: Alexia’s people.

“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.”

In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove.

“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.”

Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?”

“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well.

“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.”

“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.”

“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”

“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?”

This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?”

The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”

She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time.

Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.

…

It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her.

The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic.

Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.”

Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days.

Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning.

“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.”

“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there.

“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.”

“How’s the album doing?”

So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.”

Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms.

“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”

A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio.

You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment.

But 2020 kind of sucks.

For the entire world.

You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal.

Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.)

“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat.

“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.”

…

The routine changes the following year.

It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading.

Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it?

“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.”

Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down.

In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return.

Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”

“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”

“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”

“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again.

The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.”

She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!”

“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

“Don’t go.”

I don’t want you to go.

“I have to.”

You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you.

…

She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football.

Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him.

With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain.

“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”

Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words.

“You don’t have to be.”

It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works.

In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth.

Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment.

Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back.

Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else.

In this way, she is functional.

She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni.

She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed?

Where does she put the used bandage?

Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.

…

The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo.

Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea

It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her.

You: Go on…

Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see.

You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son.

“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.”

“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.”

You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.”

“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you.

“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.”

It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.”

“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.”

Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle.

You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you).

“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish.

Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.”

“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick.

“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’.

“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?”

…

Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together.

In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman.

She consults Mapi.

Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows.

“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation?

“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.”

“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.”

That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right.

…

June, July, and August pass with bliss.

Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.

She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days.

“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way.

You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.”

Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong.

“I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.”

It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her.

“I love you,” you continue. “So much.”

Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited.

You are.

January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back.

#barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona #woso imagines #mapi leon #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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formula-nyoom · 3 days

Text

Don't Get Squeezed | CL 16

Charles Leclerc x Sister!Driver!Reader

Summary: The unexpectedness of the Chinese Grand Prix brings the younger Leclerc sister placing higher than she's ever placed for the upcoming race. But with worries of a high placement and no experience racing this track, a crash seems like an inevitability.

A/N: Pardon my French(literally, I don’t know that much French and had to use google translate). While some would expect me to place this in Suzuka, I decided to go with China because I honestly had no expectations for that race and was stressed something bad was gonna happen the whole time.

~~~

The Chinese Grand Prix seemed to have an air of tense unexpectedness. Having not raced the track since 2019, none of the teams knew what to expect from this race weekend. With new car regulation, updated track maintenance, and the fact that 5 drivers have never raced this track before, it was well known that anything could happen.

Out of all the things, you never expected to qualify P10 at a track you’ve never raced before. It sounded like a miracle that you were able to fly your Haas into starting in the top 10. But while the team was proud of your efforts, you were very nervous.

“I’ve never started in the Top 10, Char! I only know how to start from the back, and honestly I think I’d prefer it there since it’s easier to avoid first lap crashes from the back.” You said to your brother as you paced your hotel room.

“That’s not true. You started from the top 10 and even the front plenty of times in F2. How is this any different?” Charles asked. You scoffed.

“En quoi est-ce différent? It’s different because in F2 I had a good car and was constantly lapping the others. I still don’t know how I managed to get my Haas in front of Sir Lewis Hamilton today!” You exclaimed.

“I don’t see what’s so surprising about you qualifying P10. That’s the same spot you ended the sprint race in.”

“That’s because, in the sprint I was able to climb my way from the back.” You told him. Charles let out an exasperated sigh at your own self doubt. He could partially see why you were nervous. Starting in a much higher position than where you usually qualify puts more expectations on your shoulder to do better. They’re even higher expectations then the one you already have with being a Leclerc. But Charles knew that you could do well, not just because he was your older brother but because he’s seen you drive. You may start from the back often, but your racing skills are phenomenal to where you constantly end in the points. Even if you were to drop from P10 at the start of the race, Charles knew that you’d be able to work your way back up and higher.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Charles’ thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it, being met by Arthur with bags of food in his hands.

“Arthur, can you please help me reassure our sister that she will do amazingly starting in P10?” Charles asked as he let his younger brother into the room.

“Arthur, can you remind Charles that the only reason I did good in F2 was because I outperformed everyone with a good car?” You asked, taking the bag that was offered to you from Arthur.

“I’m confused. What’s going on?” Arthur asked as he set the other bags down. You sighed.

“I don’t think it’s a good thing I’m starting in 10th place for tomorrow’s race, considering how I’m much more accustomed to starting in the back.” You explained.

“I think she’ll be fine.” Charles said.

“What’s the main thing you’re worried about with being in the top 10 at the beginning?” Arthur asked.

“Getting squeezed. Everyone at the front is always bunched up trying to overtake at the start. I’m worried that I’m gonna get stuck in the middle since I can’t pull back or move forward starting in 10th place.” It was a common worry, one you had during every race. But it seemed to be much bigger now with your current grid placement.

“So don’t get squeezed. Keep your elbows out but be mindful of your surroundings.” Arthur said nonchalantly. You let out an exasperated sigh at your brother’s response. Charles saw that Arthur’s response didn’t help you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Trust me (Y/N), as someone who has started in the top 10 multiple times, awareness of your surroundings is key. It may be tempting to overtake right from the start, but if you're that worried about possibly getting hit by someone, just remember to leave a gap.” He told you.

“You’re one to talk about leaving gaps, Mr Inchedent.” You said, your own teasing managing to get you to smile. Charles sighed.

“Peut-être que je te pousserai hors de la piste demain.(Maybe I’ll push you off the track tomorrow)” He mumbled. You laughed and threw a pillow at him.

“Tu n'oserais pas!(You wouldn’t dare!)” You said, dodging the pillow that Charles threw back in your direction.

~~~

The weather seemed to know how nervous you were and decided to make it worse by making it rain. It was only a drizzle, not hard enough to cancel the race. But every driver knew how unexpected wet conditions can be when racing. Even a drizzle can turn a driver’s race upside down. You’d just hoped you wouldn’t be one of them.

Before having to get into your cars, you and Charles managed to get away from your teams’ garages and give each other a hug for reassurance. It was your guys' tradition before each race. A promise that you would make it to the end. Arthur was able to join you two this time and you were glad that both of them were here.

“Don’t get squeezed.” Arthur said, giving you a shoulder pat before following Charles back to the Ferrari garage. If Arthur wasn’t Ferrari’s development driver, he would be in the Haas garage supporting you. But he had to settle for supporting both his siblings from only one team garage today.

For the first time since joining F1, you slotted your car into the P10 spot after the formation lap while everyone waited for the lights to go out. You spotted your brother who was ahead of you in P2. You made eye contact with him through his car’s mirrors and gave him a thumbs up. Charles gave you a nod in return before you both directed your attention to the lights that were set to blink on at any moment.

Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink

The lights went out and everything roared to life. You slammed your foot on the throttle and your car cruised forward, steadily gaining speed. You immediately went to move to the outer edge of the approaching turn to hopefully avoid any front placement congestion.

“Don’t get squeezed.” You thought to yourself.

A lot can happen on the first lap. Hell a lot can happen in the first turn.

You didn’t get squeezed going into turn one. Or turn two and 3. There was a bit of sliding on the track because of the wet conditions but you managed to get your car under control. It was the last turn, the turn that a lot of the drivers struggled with throughout the week, where everything went wrong.

You weren’t able to see who it was that was trying to overtake you. You felt the hit to the side of your car and could tell that it was too hard based on how fast you and the other car were going. But by then it was too late to break as your car started to spin out.

It’s when the ground switches from asphalt to gravel that the car starts to flip….

And flip…

Your vision becomes a quick mixture of sky and ground as the car continues to roll. It’s too fast for you to properly brace for the impact with the barrier and all too quickly the only thing you see is darkness.

“Red Flag! Red Flag!” The voice of Charle’s race engineer quickly comes over the radio as he brakes going into turn one.

“What happened?” Charle’s asked, trying to split his attention between driving and whatever his engineer is going to say next.

“Return to the pits. We are trying to get more details and will update you once you’re in the pits.”

“Did someone crash? Tell me what happened.” Worry started to build up in his chest as multiple scenarios flashed through his mind, his sister a part of many of them.

“There was a collision between an…Alpine…and a Haas.”

Charles almost lost control of the car going into turn seven upon hearing what cars were involved but quickly recovered.

“Tell me it’s not (Y/N).” Charles demanded. “Please, tell me it’s not my sister that was involved.”

The silence from his race engineer seemed deafening. He probably knew that anything but the confirmation that his sister was safe could send Charles into a literal spiral on the track.

“Come back to the pits Charles. Please.” It sounded like his race engineer was almost pleading with him and Charles reluctantly followed the orders and headed into the pit lane.

As soon as Charles’s car stopped in the Ferrari pitlane, he immediately got out of the car, not even taking the time to disengage his steering wheel. The pit crew tried to stop them but Charles pushed them away as he ran over to Haas garage. Charles’s hope rose when he saw the familiar white of a Haas car pull in, but it was quickly dashed when he saw that it wasn’t his sister pulling in, but her teammate.

Charles didn’t want to take that as confirmation that his sister was involved with the crash. He immediately ran over to the pit wall. His sister’s race engineer would tell him she was ok, right?

“(Y/N), are you ok?” Was the first thing Charles heard out of the engineer’s mouth.

“Tell me my sister’s ok. She’s answering, right?” The race engineer barely glanced at the Ferrari driver, focusing more on getting a response from their own driver.

“Are you ok? (Y/N) please respond.” The engineer said again. Charles wanted to take the engineer’s headset off, and ask that question himself. Hear his sister’s voice. Get confirmation that she was ok. But Charles’s eyes finally landed on one of the screens that was showing the replay of the crash.

You were approaching the last turn. For some reason Ocon decided to attempt an overtake when it was far too late and he got too close. His front wheel hit the side of your car, hard, causing you to violently spin. Charles' heart dropped into his stomach as he watched your car flip over and over on the gravel and it might as well have shattered when he watched your car harshly collide with the safety barrier.

“I’m getting no response.” Charles heard your engineer say to the team principal. Charles’ vision started to tunnel and all the noise around him became muffled. He didn’t even register that Arthur was now standing in front of him, trying to speak to him, but Charles didn’t hear anything.

His sister wasn’t responding

There was no movement from the car.

Is she breathing? She had to be? She had to be ok?

She’s alive right?

She was so worried about her placement and crashing. She wasn’t supposed to crash!

Charles’ brain betrays him as it thinks back to the one person he didn’t want to think about at this moment. This crash reminds him too much of Jules. It hits too close to home because the person in the car is his little sister. The little girl who was so enthusiastic about watching his karting races when he was younger. Who wanted to be just like her older brother and managed to race her way up the motorsports ladder. His little sister who made it into Formula 1 and who he gets to race alongside almost every weekend.

Both of you knew from an early age the dangers of being a race car driver. But despite every crash, you’ve always managed to walk away from it. But all Charles saw was your car. Upside down and wedged in a barrier. There was no sign of movement from what little he could see of the driver’s seat, and you weren’t responding to your engineer.

He couldn’t lose anyone else to this sport. Not after Jules…you had promised him that you would make it to the end-

“Charles!”

Charles snapped out of his panic state as Arthur yelled his name. He could tell now that he had begun to hyperventilate, and tried to calm his breathing.

“They want you to try and talk to her.” Arthur said. “Maybe you can get a response.”

Charles numbly nodded and took the headset that was being offered to him.

“(Y/N), it’s Charlie…can you hear me? Are you ok?”

The silence was so loud.

“....(y/n)....(Y/N)!”

Consciousness slowly came back to you as you started to gain a sense of your surroundings. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t tell what was up or down. How did you get here? One second you were racing…and the next?

You had gotten squeezed.

“(Y/N)...can you hear me?” A voice came over your radio. Your arm trembled as you strained to press the radio button on your steering wheel. God, did everything hurt and you felt tears start to well up from the pain you felt.

“Charles…” Your brother’s voice was the first thing you recognized. The one thing you could recognize in the darkness and confusion of your current predicament.

“(Y/N)! Are you ok!” Charles asked over the radio. He sounded so worried and you mentally kicked yourself a bit knowing you were the cause of the worry.

“Charlie…everything hurts…I can’t move.” You told him. It was true. You felt trapped under your seatbelt and felt that one little movement would send pain throughout your whole body.

“Breathe sœur, breathe. Your car is upside down and wedged in the barrier. The safety marshals are trying to flip the car over to get you out right now.” Charles explained. That offered some comfort. You listened to Charles' advice as you tried to take deep breaths. You moved your head a bit to try and get awareness of your surroundings, but even moving it an inch sent a wave of nausea through your body. You felt the car shake and braced your body as the car was flipped over and your vision was filled with daylight. You had to take in more deep breaths before you could lift your head and make eye contact with the safety marshal who was checking to see if you were ok. You managed to give them a thumbs up, a sign that you were conscious, and they immediately went to help you out of the car. Fans cheered as they saw you climb out of the car with assistance. Signs of relief seemed to echo throughout the pitlane and Charles and Arthur practically collapsed to their knees with relief at the sight of you alive and moving. Charles looked to the sky and placed a hand over his heart.

“Merci Jules…” He quietly whispered before hugging Arthur tight.

Despite the immense pain and the swimming feeling in your head, you managed to wave your hand to the closest grandstand, sending the fans a message that you were ok.

Charles and Arthur watched as you were helped to the ambulance and placed on the stretcher. You would need to be taken to a hospital to assess any injuries and possibility of a concussion. Arthur told Charles that he would meet you at the hospital and call Lorenzo and Mama. Because despite everything that just happened…the race still needed to be finished. Charles would rather be in the ambulance with you than get back in his Ferrari and race on the same track that you had just crashed at. He wished the race didn’t need to be finished at all. But it had to. And if Charles had to race, then he was going to win. He was going to win for his little sister.

~~~

Next to all the flowers and get well cards, on your hospital bedside table was a beautiful first place trophy. Charles barely stayed on the podium after receiving it, immediately heading to the hospital you were taken to once the celebrations were done. When he arrived, he was grateful to hear that you only had a sprained wrist, bruising and a concussion. He wished you weren’t injured at all, but compared to how crashes go, you got off on the better side. Charle’s sent another silent thank you to Jules, as doctor told him that the halo was one of the main things that prevented further injuries.

“I think I’ll purposely try to start from the back for the rest of the season.” You said while sitting up in your hospital bed playing Uno with Arthur. The doctors decided that you should stay overnight to monitor your concussion.

“I think that may be a good idea.” Charles said as he sat next to you, watching the current card game take place.

“Or, you start on pole every race. You don’t have to worry about being surrounded by the other cars if you’re already in the front.” Arthur said, placing a card down.

“Yea but then the only view Charles would get the whole race would be my rear wing and I don’t know if that’s a view he can enjoy every race.” You said. Charles rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I should get the doctor to check your head again with all the nonsense you just spoke.” Charles said. “As I recall you’ve been chasing my rear wing throughout the seasons.”

“Uno!” You declared, placing your second to last card down. “Please Charles, it’s only a matter of time before I beat you at a race. Like how I’m about to beat Arthur at this game.”

“There’s no way you’re going to win. I know for a fact you don’t have any blues.” Arthur said, placing down a blue five. He gave you a sly smirk that quickly fell when you gave him one back. Without saying a word, you placed down a +4.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #platonic grid x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x driver!reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader

251 notes · View notes

bu3ckers · 2 months

Text

never be like you

•paige bueckers x fem!reader

•angst, explicit language, fluff

•nsfw

summary | oc is paige’s highschool best friend, except they’ve always had feelings for each other. when they got to uconn, things got complicated..

author’s note: this is loosely based off of never be like you by flume!! best friends to lovers is my favorite trope ever so enjoyy. also im too lazy to put my auto caps on, so im sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes

halloween 2019

hopkins, minnesota

11:30 pm

*oc and paige are both 18*

this was my last halloween party of my highschool years. as paige and i were dancing together in a random senior’s backyard, my mind began to wander. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was because she was staring into my soul with the most lust filled gaze ever. i broke out of my trance to find her smirking, tilting her head towards her car. “wanna get out?” she mouthed, knowing i wouldn’t be able to hear her over the music. i nodded in response and she gingerly took my hand and jogged out of the backyard. i struggled to keep up, still feeling the slight effects of the pen i took a few hits of almost an hour ago. she wasted no time driving back to her house, knowing her parents and brother were gone for the weekend. her free hand was gripping my thigh, dangerously high as i bit my lip in an attempt to simmer my excitement down. i dont know why i never told her how i really felt - i know she felt the same. but there was something telling me that she was just toying with me.

she finally pulled into her driveway and ran around the car to open the door for me. i stumbled out, gripping the blonde for balance. “get on” she said, holding out her arms, gesturing for me to jump into them. i obliged and she lifted me up, her hands going to my ass as i wrapped my arms around her neck. she walked to her door and opened it, slamming it closed with her foot once we were inside. she set me down to put her keys on the table before surging towards me, bringing me in for a passionate kiss. she lead me to her room, lips never leaving mine. after her door shut, the whole night became a blur. the only thing i remember was waking up with a pleasant pain between my legs, wrapped in paige’s arms.

august 2020

storrs, connecticut

7:30 pm

it was move in day for me and paige. we’d graduated from hopkins together and somehow ended up committing to uconn together. we both decided it would only make sense for us to dorm together. boy was i wrong.

jerking back tears while watching my parents leave along with paige’s wasn’t easy. paige noticed me standing there alone, staring at the road long after they’d left. she came up behind me, her hand going to the small of my back as hot tears were now flowing freely down my face. “no, no, no, it’s okay don’t cry, you’ll see them soon”, she said, allowing me to fold into her open arms. she held me as i soaked her shirt with tears, completely disregarding the box filled dorm that was waiting for us. i stayed wrapped in her embrace as the parking lot emptied and my tears subsided. the sun began to set as i lifted my head from her chest, looking up at her with glossy eyes. she looked down at me with a pout, trying to cheer me up. i giggled at the sight, watching her mouth turn up into a smile as she did a little fist pump. "see, all better” she joked, cupping my face and wiping my tears with her thumbs. “i bet you feel real accomplished” i said through a snotty laugh. “you know i do” she replied, her breath catching when she looked at the beautiful sunset. the sky was painted deep orange and yellow, pale pink reflecting onto the clouds making them look like cotton candy. i watched her take in the sunset, admiring the way it shone on her perfect face. i peeled my eyes away to look at the sunset myself. it was ethereal. i got lost in the sky, unaware that paige was gazing at me with a soft smile. i turned my head to find her staring, and before i could tease her about it, she connected our lips in a slow, sweet kiss. her hands gently held my waist as my arms traveled to wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. my lips moved expertly against hers as her hands moved up my back. i pulled away, smiling up at her. “you’re so beautiful”, she began, watching my face redden, “i love you”. my eyes widened a bit at the last statement. “i love you too p”, i replied, reaching up to kiss her again.

i had to keep reminding myself that we were just best friends, even though i was beginning to hate the label. best friends don’t kiss like that. best friends don’t have sex every so often. and best friends sure don’t talk to each other like that.

present day

9:45 pm

storrs, connecticut

paige was hanging out with her teammates while i was in class. i loved her team - they treated me like a sister, especially the freshmen, who always looked up to me. i had just gotten home from my last class, exhausted and burnt out from the amount of work i had to do. when i got back inside, i overheard paige, aubrey, kk and ice talking about something, someone. “so, paige, how’s your lil girlfriend?” kk joked. it clicked in my head that i was the topic of conversation. i stopped in my tracks as paige began to respond. “what girlfriend?”, she replied. “come on p, stop playing dumb, we all know you guys aint best friends” ice retorted. i peeked through the door that was cracked open and watched aubrey playfully punch her in the shoulder, laughing. see, throughout our freshman year, i had to deal with the amount of girls paige brought home. i hated that era of her. i knew she was just being a dumb college girl, i knew she didn’t care about those girls, but it hurt me to think about the fact that i was one of the many girls on her roster. when she finally changed her ways to focus on basketball after her acl injury, i felt a wave of relief wash over me. sure, it meant that i was also cleared off her roster, but we still resumed our normal not-best-friend-like activities. i held my breath as she began to answer. “i’m being serious, she’s my best friend and nothing more. i don’t even like her like that for real. i mean, she’s not even my type”, she replied. i practically winced at every word that left her mouth. she couldn’t be serious, right? i didn’t know what else to do in that moment. i turned around, grabbed my keys and stormed out. im guessing she heard me, because as i was running down the hallway she flew outside and sprinted to catch up to me. “shit, yn, you heard that?” she said when she got to me, exasperated. i turned around to face her guilty eyes. “yeah paige, i did. do me a favor and fuck off for me will you?” i replied, my words shaky as tears pricked my eyes. i ran downstairs and made my way outside before she could even reply. i started my car and began to drive mindlessly, just wanting to get away. i pulled into an empty dunkin’ lot, let my tears flow freely, and cried for what felt like hours.

paige’s pov

10:00 pm

storrs, connecticut

none of my words were true. i liked her so much, i just didn’t want to tell them right there. azzi was the only one who knew.

watching tears build at her waterline crushed me. i’ve never made her cry before. her words hit me hard. i wanted to follow her, i wanted to be the one to comfort her just like i did on move in day. i knew she wouldn’t let me in - she never did. she always had her walls up and rarely cried in front of me.

i checked her location, wanting to know if she was safe at least.

dunkin: hartford, ct

i had no idea why she was all the way in hartford. i knew she had a habit of absentmindedly driving when she was upset, but she’s never gone this far. fuck. i seriously hurt her. as much as i wanted to drive to her, i knew it was a bad idea. it took everything in me to trudge back to my dorm, our dorm. i opened the door slowly, my head hung low. aubrey, kk and ice were waiting behind the door, confusion painted on all of their faces. “p, what the fuck was that?” aubrey said. “man, i fucked up big time. i lied to y’all, i really do like her. i just didn’t wanna tell you guys”. “do you think we’re stupid? we knew girl. you suck at lying” kk retorted, snorting. “oh”, i replied, biting my lip. “go get your girl bueckers” ice said, ushering me out of my own dorm. i grabbed my keys and hopped into my car, wasting no time driving to her. luckily she was still at that random dunkin’, although i knew she didn’t exactly want to see me. i pulled up next to her car and peered through her window. the only thing i could make out through the heavy rain coating her window was the sight of her holding her head in her hands, her chest heaving up and down. it broke me to see her like that. i just sat there and watched her for a while, my face turning white when she eventually noticed me. her expression immediately shifted from miserable to livid as she switched from park to reverse, quickly pulling out of the lot. i didn’t even try to follow her. i sunk into my seat and ran my hands down my face, pinching my eyelids and hitting the steering wheel. i fucked up, bad.

oc’s pov

11:00 pm

storrs, connecticut

i booked a room at the graduate hotel, solely to get away from the blonde. i only planned on staying there for the weekend because of the ridiculously high prices. i checked in and didn’t even bother putting my stuff away. i just flopped on the bed, burying my face in a pillow. stop thinking about her. you’re not her type. my mind was in a million different places at once, but it seemed to go silent when i checked my phone. they were all notifications from paige, about 16 missed calls and 20 unread messages. they ranged from “im so sorry” to “i miss you” to “are you okay?” to “where are you??”. tired and angry, i took her off my allowed people on do not disturb. i couldn’t bear to think about her at all. i quickly got changed into my pajamas and settled into bed, feeling cold and empty without paige’s presence beside me. it was weird falling asleep without her around me. i don’t think i’ve slept without her since freshman year started. i guess it’s never too late to try new things.

4:30 pm

storrs, connecticut

i spent practically the whole weekend rotting in the graduate hotel. i was honestly getting tired of ignoring paige. i missed her so much, but she didn’t have to know that. checking out of the hotel felt so good, and i was finally ready to speak to her after regaining my composure. i made my way back to our dorm, preparing to let her in and explain herself. i walked in only to be met with paige and another girl. she looked exactly like me, a doppelgänger if you will. her hair, her height, her eyes, everything. it looked like a friendly interaction, as though paige was planning to get up and leave, but i didn’t even let her reach the door. spinning on my heels, i stormed out for the second time this week, slamming the door in her face. i had enough. i’d seen enough. the sound of the door opening behind me angered my soul. “don’t fucking follow me paige”, i yelled, not even looking back. i didn’t want to see her face at all. i heard the door close quietly, footsteps trailing behind me. i was ready to scream at her. instead of being met with the tall blonde, i turned to see my doppelgänger. “hey, i don’t have any idea who you are, i was just leaving anyways but i’m not really interested in paige for real. she looked like she needed a shoulder to cry on..but that’s none of my business. i’m on your side babe, if anything” the girl, who’s name i learned was jade, spoke. her tone was gentle. she sounded genuinely concerned. “thank you, at least someone here understands me” i replied, laughing slightly. we exchanged numbers and i thanked her again for being so kind. she smiled and i left, needing somewhere to stay. although i was close to the entire team, azzi was the one i was closest to. well, aside from paige. azzi, paige and i have been sort of like a trio since highschool. whenever azzi came to visit, we had the time of our lives. we were so excited when she announced her signing with uconn. i texted her the whole situation and she immediately replied, welcoming me over. i sped over to her place, which wasn’t far from paige and i’s. she was waiting for me at the door, worry painted on her face. i began sobbing as soon as i saw her, just needing to be comforted. when we got inside she brought me over to the couch and pulled me into her lap, holding me as i hiccuped and shook uncontrollably. i cried until i couldn’t anymore again this week. this wasn’t like me. i never really cried like this. how could paige be causing all of this?

my tears turned into sniffles and azzi’s shirt was soaked. after i finished crying, i sat in her arms, my head buried in the crook of her neck, a comfortable silence filling the room as i regained composure. “honey, what happened?” she finally spoke, her voice soft. i lifted my head and began, “i overheard paige talking to aubrey, ice, and kk on friday.. they were teasing her about me and she said that she never liked me at all and that i wasn’t her type and…oh God”. my head fell into my hands as more tears began flowing down my face. azzi instantly pulled me back against her, rubbing my back to soothe me. “shh, it’s okay, i’m right here. you’re okay”. “i caught her with another girl azzi”, i confessed, sobbing harder. “oh hon..” she replied, visibly upset with paige. “i swear, im gonna kill her” she muttered to herself. i mustered out a slight, snotty laugh at her anger. “i wanted to give her the light of day after she tried to explain what she said about me, but that was the last straw. i don’t know what to do now”, i spoke, my voice cracking, tears still spilling down my face. “you don’t have to do anything right now, just stay here and take a break. you need it. i’ll be right here” she answered. “thanks az, i love you” i told her, meaning every word. i don’t know what i’d do without her. “i love you too”. i continued crying in her arms as the sun set.

paige’s pov

azzi’s apartment ..

i couldn’t help but follow her to azzi’s apartment. hearing everything she said and how she said it broke me. her voice, her tears, everything about it made me sick to my stomach. it made it worse that i was the one who did this, again. how could i be so stupid? how could i try to fill the void she left? nobody could ever be like her. i wasn’t going to let anything happen between jade and i. i couldn’t bring myself to. i had to tell her that. but seeing the look on her face when she saw me that night, the way azzi was cradling her as tears streamed down her face was too much for me. i couldn’t stand to see her like that. i quietly slipped away from azzi’s apartment, not being able to see her crying anymore. when i got back to our place, i tried texting her again. it was pointless - she hadn’t even replied to the texts i sent her on friday night. i sat on the couch and pondered for a while. deciding to test my luck, i headed back to azzi’s apartment.

oc’s pov

my tears finally faded as i began drifting off to sleep. azzi noticed my eyes drooping which inclined her to lift me off the couch and carry me to her room. she laid me down and tucked me into her bed. “get some rest, okay?” she whispered, lips pressed to the crown of my head. i nodded and smiled sleepily up at her. “thank you az” i murmered. “of course” she replied, turning on her fairy lights and flicking the light off. she closed the door, leaving it cracked open slightly. i heard some commotion coming from outside the door, but i eventually fell asleep, tear tracks drying on my face.

paige’s pov

speeding right back over to azzi’s apartment almost cost me my car privileges, but i didn’t care. i needed to see her. i flew down the hallway and practically banged on azzi’s door. after about a minute or so it opened, and i was met with azzi’s stern glare. she was visibly angry with me, for good reason. “paige. are you stupid or dumb?” she said. not really what i wanted to hear. “i know, i know, i messed up bad. but i need to explain to her. i need to talk to her”. “you do realize she’s completely broken and wants nothing to do with you? she’s also asleep right now”. great. i just want to see her face again. “can i just..” my voice trails off. “can you what paige?” i clear my throat. “can i just see her, please?”

azzi thought for a few moments.

“fine, go, she’s in my room”.

i thanked azzi profusely and quietly shuffled into her room. there she was, sleeping like an angel with the fairy lights perfectly illuminating her face. she looked beautiful during any time of day. i stood over her for a while and just watched her sleep like the weirdo i was. eventually, i got tired of standing and oh so gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her. a heavy sigh escaped my mouth as i watched her sleep peacefully. my arms and hands apparently had a mind of their own, because before i knew it i was stroking her face gently. i couldn’t bring myself to stop. her face is so perfect, everything about her is so perfect. i slightly brushed my thumb over her lips, trying not to wake her. i failed as soon as my hand reached the top of her head, petting it and stroking the hair down her face. she began to stir under me, blinking her eyes open. i knew she was a heavy sleeper and it took a few minutes for her to wake up, so i continued to graze her face. when she began to gain consciousness, i panicked and planted my feet in the ground to stand up. a soft voice stopped my escape.

“paige?”

i froze in place and waited for her to speak again.

“what are you doing here?” she asked in that adorable, sleepy voice she has when she first wakes up.

turning around, i slowly walked back towards the bed where she laid, curled up in azzi’s fuzzy blankets, head craned slightly to see me.

“oh uh, i was just-“

i stopped.

“hm?”

“i was checking..on you.”

“why?”

she was waking up fully now.

“because i hurt you. and i’m sorry.”

her expression changed from sleepy to upset, and i noticed the tear tracks that stained her face.

“you’re sorry?” she answered, tears welling up in her eyes. “now you’re sorry? do you realize what you put me through?” she said, hot angry tears flowing freely down her soft cheeks.

“i-“ i tried to retaliate, but stopped immediately when she broke down sobbing.

“baby i-“

“don’t call me that”, she spat, glaring at me through wet eyelashes.

ouch.

“how can you casually come back here and sorry your way out of this? don’t you know how long i suffered watching you hook up with all of these girls in front of me? don’t you realize how hurtful it was to be one of those girls on your ever growing roster? do you even know how long i waited for you paige? all throughout our little friends with benefits phase in high school, all while i became a hook up and not a best friend, all while i was there for you when you tore your acl, all of it. and then you go ahead and tell aubs, ice and kk that i’m not your type? that you never liked me like that? and then proceeded to hook up with a girl that looks exactly like me? don’t you know what that does to someo-“

“i love you”.

oc’s pov

“i love you”.

i stopped my rant instantly and shot my eyes up to meet hers. she immediately looked down and took her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“you what?”

“i love you. more than anything”.

i scoff and laugh a little, shocked.

“but i thought-“

she cuts me off by leaping onto the bed and bringing me in for a long kiss, pouring out every pent up emotion she had built up in her. our lips moved against each other perfectly. i didnt want to admit how much i was craving this. she slid her tongue into my mouth and they danced together as we made out. it was sweet. it was everything i had been missing. we slowly dwindled down and pressed our foreheads together. she took my head in her hands.

“i. love. you.”

i sniffled and lightly smiled up at her.

“you do?”

“i’ll say it again and again and again. however many times it takes for you to believe me.”

“you would?”

she brought her lips to my forehead and spoke against it, still holding my face.

“of course i would”.

laughing breathily, i retaliated.

“i love you too. i love you more, actually”.

she peeled her lips away from my forehead and looked me dead in the eyes.

“not possible. all those girls? they’ll never be like you.” she said, grinning wildly, waiting for my response.

my finally dried face turned damp again and my mouth turned up in a smile as happy tears streamed down my face. i hugged her so tight and cried into her neck, kissing it simultaneously.

“i love you paige. so much”.

“i love you more baby”.

pulling away from her neck, i crashed my lips onto hers. we made out for what seemed like hours, basking in the warmth that we brought each other.

azzi smiled at the sight of us making up, proud of her idiot best friends who didn’t know how to deal with their feelings.

we finally headed back to our place together. we went straight to our room and laid down, limbs tangled together.

my head rested on her chest as she gently played with the ends of my hair, curling them with her fingers.

the world had stopped spinning. paige and i were girlfriends. not best friends. everything aligned.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wbb #wcbb #fanfic #bu3ckers #uconn wbb

279 notes · View notes

xxblairexxss · 9 months

Text

I’m sorry

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x asian!reader

Theme : Angst

Just a timeline of Charles’s girlfriend throughout the years, how she went from a girl who migrated to France when she was 6 years old to becoming a girlfriend of the Formula 1 driver, Charles Leclerc.

I’m not entirely sure about this one but I just wanted to clear my draft. I’m only tagging those who told me they wanted to be included in my general tag list! Please don’t be offended if I didn’t tag you because it’s not Jealousy part 3 😭 so I thought you don’t want to be tagged but please let me know if you wish to in all of my stories!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2018

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2019

yninstagram

Liked by charles_leclerc and 98,765 others

ynusername dropping a selfie bcs it’s been a while

charles_leclerc Mon amour 🧸🤎

ynusername 🤎

user1 SO PRETTYY

user2 LOVING THE HAIR COLOUR!!

user3 she’s asian? can she speaks french?

user4 she has lived in france since she was 6 so yes she can

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 78,072 others

ynusername a quick stop for mirror selfie before rushing to class

charles_leclerc my pretty girl 🤎

user1 oh to be called my pretty girl by charles too 😭

user2 does she always dress like that?

user3 other wags just scream old money with class. this one..i’m not sure myself 😣

user4 lol she can wear whatever she wants

user2 i just wish she wear something more relevant since it’s affecting charles’s image too

user4 that doesn’t make any sense

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2020

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 103,665 others

ynusername rainy season 🌧️

charles_leclerc I miss you

ynusername I miss you too 🥺🥺

user1 I love how she still look stunning without all those expensive brands

user2 PRETTIESTTT ❤️

user3 is it just me or she looks so out of place compare to other wags?

user4 how i wish she paid more attention to her style

user5 too simple 😕

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2021

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,231 others

ynusername loving this dress! 💛

charles_leclerc beautiful princess

ynusername love youu! 🥺

user1 meeeh tried too hard

user2 lol all those stuffs but still don’t look on par with other wags

user3 omg you look so pretty in a dress!!! AAAAA

user4 charles’s princess ❤️

user5 girl you ate and left all crumbs

“I can’t.”

Charles furrowed his brows to your answer. “What do you mean you can’t? Y/N, we have been together for more than 6 years. Don’t you think it’s time for us to start living together?”

“I got a job offer in London. I’ll be moving away in a week.”

“What? What about us? Don’t you think you should have told me first before you accepted the offer?” He blinked in disbelief, part of him was hoping that you were just pulling a prank on him.

“It was a job that my mom had always been dreaming of, Charles. She sacrificed a lot for me.”You tilted your chin to avoid the tears on your waterline to spill. “She sacrificed her life before she could play with dolls for me. I spent my childhood waiting for the sound of her keys jingling as she came back from her night shift, waking up with just a small note sticked on the side of my breakfast plate because she couldn’t wished me a good morning for having to rush to work. She gave up on her dream, crying from missing her parents in South Korea every night just to make sure I got a chance to draw my life with colours so I wouldn’t have to suffer like she did. I need to accept this job for her. Everything I have been doing and ever will do is for her and you know this.”

Charles remained silence. He had always known your mom’s struggle, raiding you alone as a signle mother and part of him had always known that if you were put in a situation where you had to prioritise your life or your mom’s life, you would always choose hers. He knew it but he was never prepared for the day to come. He couldn’t find himself to say anything else and pulled you into his embrace instead.

“And I’m tired. I’m so, so tired of the constant pressure from everyone. I can’t even wear anything that I want without getting comments about how incompatible I look, how messy I look. I– I don’t know what they– what everyone wants from me. It’s either I looked out of place, an outsider or I looked like I’m trying too hard. I don’t know what everyone expect from me. I’m happy, I’m so goddamn happy that you got to be where you are right now but the more you are building yourself, the more I’m falling apart. I’m losing myself, Charles. I feel like I have been helping you to build your garden while mine is just getting abandoned and forsaken and just full of wilt flowers.”

“I’m sorry.”

That was the last word you remembered him saying as he kept you in your arms, holding you so you wouldn’t fall on your knee from the way your body shook within every sob.

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2022

ynusername

London, United Kingdom

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,663 others

ynusername took a day off to play tourist!

comments have been disabled

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2023

lancomeofficial and ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 377,620 others

lancomeofficial Lancôme newest global ambassador, ynusername lookingall glammed up by jaime.creates.

user1 OMG OMG OMG

user2 THAT’S MY GIRRLL

user3 been here since day 1

user4 She looks unreal

user5 it’s been a while since the last time i saw her in my feed 🥹

user6 still using her ex bf fame to build her name lol she’s worse than other ex wag

user7 are you high???

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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gffa · 19 days

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I haven't read any STEVE/BUCKY FIC in the last five years or so (Endgame really burned me hard), BUT I can at least offer what I read up to that point! Most of my recs are from around when Captain America: The Winter Soldier first came out (some from before, so there's a few speculation fics) and then I was ready semi-regularly up through Inifinity War, so these may be a bit dated but also the fandom had some ABSOLUTE BANGER fics from that era! I mostly read from about 2014 to 2019 and I can't say how well many of these held up, but I know my tastes haven't changed that much, so there should hopefully be something for anyone interested here! Anyway, I think I'm finally Not As Mad As I Once Was enough to read fic again/celebrate the 10th anniversary of TWS, but also let's be clear. I will forever hold a grudge about what Marvel did with Steve and Bucky post-TWS, that was bullshit from start to finish. ESPECIALLY the finish, oh my god okay so I'm still Actually That Mad and-- NO, OKAY, HAVE SOME FIC RECS BEFORE I MELT DOWN AGAIN.

CAPTAIN AMERICA FIC RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:

STEVE/BUCKY SHIP FICS

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR

STEVE & BUCKY-CENTRIC FICS (WITH A LITTLE OF EVERYONE ELSE, TOO)

STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE/BUCKY FIC RECS: ✦ Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me In by victoria_p (musesfool), steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff, reunion fic, 4.1k Bucky finds himself, and then he finds Steve. ✦ you got blood on your hands (and i know it’s mine) by nighimpossible, steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff + brief mention of sam wilson/natasha romanoff, suicidal ideation, 2.9k Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming. ✦ take all you can carry by havisham, steve/bucky & cast, 2.4k Bucky Barnes reassembles himself to a reasonable degree and makes romantic overtures to one Steve Rogers. It’s happened before and will happen again. ✦ I’d Know That Face Anywhere by Shay081793, steve/bucky, NSFW, divergent timeline, 2.7k The 107th never got captured. Instead, Bucky Barnes is in the audience when that clown "Captain America" performs to rally the troops, and holy shit, that clown is Steve Rogers. ✦ and we are finally home by springsoldier (ladydaredevil), sam & bucky + steve/bucky + implied sam/natasha + implied bucky/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam's kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Capture the Flag by Shiny_n_new, steve/bucky + sam, dark au, 9.4k wip Bucky has always been willing to do Captain America’s dirty work. This was no different. Sometimes, the day isn’t won by high ideals or bravery or compassion. Sometimes, it’s won by monsters. ✦ Memories are Made of This by eleveninches, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, 13.2k Nearly a year after turning himself into SHIELD and the Avengers, Bucky struggles to find himself in the 21st century. Unfortunately, no one told him about the aliens.

✦ but hey, you’re all right by beardsley, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 5.5k Yes, this is the story where the Winter Soldier is a Russian mail-order bride. Everything goes about as well as you’d expect. ✦ I Left Myself in 1943 (Who the hell is Bucky?) by originalblue, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 21k You have a mission, but your mind is being split in two, and there's a man on the bridge, and you know him. You don't know why, but you know him. ✦ sam deserves better than these assholes by lazulisong, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 18k IM SORRY BUT SAM WILSON STARING IN BAFFLED WONDER AT STEVE AND BUCKY AND HOW WEIRD THEY ARE ABOUT EACH OTHER ✦ broken pieces (the rough edges remix) by legete, steve/bucky, 2.1k It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but sometimes Bucky prefers the nightmares that actually happened. ✦ Talk Dirty to Me by PeetaPan, steve/bucky, NSFW, wall sex, 2.5k Steve spends months tracking Bucky down, and when he eventually find him, it’s in a nightclub in Europe. ✦ the body adrift by Febricant, steve/bucky + sam, mildy nsfw, 4.2k Steve has no drawings of Bucky from before. Those are all gone, destroyed in the war or by his own hand; it wouldn’t do for anyone to see how easily the details came from memory, how often Bucky was in his thoughts. ✦ Tony Stark and the Illegal Cross-Country Road Trip from Hell by ActionAddiction, steve/bucky + tony + sam + clint + natasha + fury, 21.8k wip A stir-crazy genius, a secretly sentimental assassin, two soldiers lost in time, and an undercover archer without an identity zigzag across the continental United States in Fury’s stolen van. Or: How Bucky Met Steve (Again)

✦ Didn’t know I was lonely till I saw your face by gunboots, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha + sam + bruce + tony + xavier, 2.9k There are words on paper, actors in movies, and a grand story that fills a whole corner of a museum defined by history. There are words, there are pictures, there are movies, but they’re limited, fragmented. They can’t do justice to the sniper that Captain America trusted, the man that grew into a boy in the streets of Brooklyn with his best friend at his side. The man that could be James Buchanan Barnes leaves a legacy that is barely defined. The man that Steve Rogers says he is. ✦ the inaccuracy of historical wartime dramas by Mici (noharlembeat), steve/bucky + sam + natasha, 3k (or: Steve has feelings, and shouldn’t ever watch television) ✦ The Shape I’m In by radialarch, steve/bucky, 2.6k [AU where Bucky never fell.] They win the war. Steve and Bucky come home and deal with their feelings. ✦ дорогой by smilebackwards, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, canon divergence, 1.8k “Are you goddamn kidding me?” Fury asks when Steve shows up to the rendezvous point in Fredericksberg with the Winter Soldier. ✦ have you ever thought just maybe by Desdemon, steve/bucky + tony/pepper + other marvel characters, humor, 4.4k “JARVIS,” Tony called thoughtfully. “Yes, sir?” “Those young people are in love,” he said. ✦ Use Your Damn Words by wilddragonflying, steve/bucky, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.2k There’s murmuring, indistinct voices, all around him; all he catches, at first, are the occasional words. “—mated.” “—no difference—“ “—make him forget—“ That’s when Bucky starts fighting. ✦ It’s an Adequate Life, Bucky Barnes by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, it’s a wonderful life fusion, 10.2k This is a world without Bucky Barnes.

✦ and it starts just where the light exists by caughtinanocean, steve/bucky, mildly nsfw, 3.4k In which Bucky can’t admit the things he needs, but Steve knows them anyway, and Steve and Bucky are definitely a couple, even if they don’t know it. ✦ tango till they’re sore by sciencemyfiction, steve/bucky, nsfw, 4k Four shorts about Steve and Bucky, and romance, and sex, and dominance, and grief, and forgiveness. ✦ Permission by derekstilinski, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 2.5k After Bucky’s captured by SHIELD, they put him in a holding cell, and strip him of everything but his clothes. He’s dirty, damaged, and Steve can’t just watch him like that, protocol or not. ✦ Milkshakes & Penguin Suits by TheLocket, steve/bucky, fluff, 2.9k At the latest Stark party, Steve and Bucky share a milkshake — and spend the evening together. ✦ Practical Mathematics by Grey_Bard, steve/bucky + steve/peggy + steve/peggy/bucky + tony, 1.7k After a hard shift saving the world, Stark - in his infinite wisdom - has decided to bond with Steve by talking about his favorite subject. Well, third favorite, after building things and smart-mouthing people. Steve is pretty sure none of his experiences really count. Tony is starting to wonder what Steve’s definition of “is” is. ✦ how happy must be angels thus employed by lanyon , steve/bucky + clint/coulson, mildly nsfw, humor, 2k It begins entirely accidentally. Clint walks in on Bucky and Steve in a compromising position and then Bucky escalates by tapping a private line between Clint and Phil. Also known as The One With The Cock-Blocking Competition (and it’s all fun and games until Phil and Steve find out.) ✦ Fate by grumpyowls, steve/bucky + peggy, 2.1k Bucky finds a drawing and it turns out to mean something more than he thought.

✦ One More Time by DevBasaa, steve/bucky, pre-serum, ~1k Steve’s clueless and Bucky’s not yet ready to acknowledge these feelings. But that doesn’t stop him from having them. Set before Bucky ships out, but after Steve receives his A1. ✦ Bucky and Bear by fromgoodbones, steve/bucky, fluffy, ~1k Steve gets Bucky a cat. ✦ Size Isn’t A Problem by bondboy68, steve/bucky, NSFW, 1.8k It’s the first time Bucky has seen Steve naked in some seventy-odd years, and things have definitely changed.

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION:

✦ devil’s gonna follow me (wherever I go) by Lyaka, steve/bucky & natasha & cast, the winter soldier speculation, 63k The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely. Help me, the bullet sang. Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping. And Steve Rogers looked up. ✦ And it felt like a kiss by orphan_account, steve /bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k We can’t stop feeling Winter Soldier feelings. And neither can Bucky or Steve. ✦ testament by paxlux, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier speculation fic, 10.6k His memory runs backwards in crooked bright flashes, hard as the noise flare of an assault rifle. ✦ persistence of memory by hollimichele, steve/bucky/natasha, NSFW, the winter soldier speculation, 11.5k It’s a nondescript sort of a Wednesday morning when the Winter Soldier walks into SHIELD headquarters, bold as brass, and announces his intention to surrender. ✦ To Be Modified As Necessary by ignipes, steve/bucky & bucky/natasha & clint/natasha & thor/jane & avengers, the winter soldier speculation, 5.9k They only need ten rules to ensure (relatively) peaceful cohabitation. ✦ lights at two dollars a strand by legete, steve/bucky + tony, the winter soldier speculation, 1.4k They don’t mean to decorate for Christmas. It just sorta…happens.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ Out of the Dead Land by orphan_account, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + nick fury + other marvel characters, nsfw in one scene at the end, 62.7k Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes. ✦ this is a back alley by saintsideways, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 14.2k Here is the only thing you know: the body remembers. ✦ your blue-eyed boys by Feather (lalaietha), steve/bucky & cast, 123.3k Steve has no plan. Not because he hadn't tried to make one. He'd tried to make lots of plans. Plan, adapt, plan again, tried to think of every contingency. [post-Winter Soldier recovery fic] ✦ The man on the bridge by boopboop, steve/bucky & tony/pepper & clint/natasha & cast, 107.5k Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door with an amnesiac assassin - who may or may not have some of Tony's personally designed hardware attached where his arm should be - well that's just far too interesting to turn away, even if Tony is trying to avoid all things S.H.I.E.L.D these days. ✦ Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin’ Boy by ifeelbetter, sam & bucky + steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, (some) humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers’s best friend. ✦ Reconstruction Site by EmilianaDarling, steve/bucky + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 7.6k He is the Winter Soldier. He is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s not one and he’s not the other, and he’s not sure if that makes him anything worth saving. In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.

✦ hold me tight by hollimichele, bucky/steve + sam + natasha, nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 11.1k In the old days, before the war, Steve got cold at night. That was all it was, at first. ✦ A Bullet in the Barrel (of your best guy’s gun) by lc2l, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, canon divergence (sort of), violence, 6k You return to the concrete hole in the ground where the mission is not dead and not in the sewers and is looking at you. “Bucky,” says Rogers, Steve (deceased). ✦ Sleeperhold by Argyle, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.2k He’s hardwired to disappear. ✦ lost my fear of falling by ftmsteverogers, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, 1.8k “It’s been two weeks,” Natasha says, pressing a coffee cup into Steve’s hand. “How long are we going to do this?” Steve watches the steam curl into question marks above his cup. “I know he’s still in there,” he says, and that’s that. ✦ but the fires are coming by stitchingatthecircuitboard, steve/bucky + bucky & natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He does not remember, except that is better than being made to forget, again, and again, and again. He does not go to Brooklyn. ✦ we did not make ourselves by M_Leigh, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 25.1k It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows. ✦ measured my life in cooking lessons by FoxGlade, steve/bucky + clint + avengers, fluff, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He knocks on Clint’s door, sharp and loud, and half a minute later Clint is standing there in boxers and a baggy Army Rangers shirt. “Morning,” Steve says shortly, before Clint can say anything. “You up to teaching me how to make those French toasts? I think I need to talk.” Clint yawns and stretches. Something in his back makes a loud cracking sound and Steve winces. “Yeah, I’m up,” he mumbles, then squints. “This is going to be a long cooking lesson, isn’t it?” “I found Bucky sitting outside the tower on the street when I went out for a jog and he remembered me but I’m pretty sure that’s all he remembers.” Clint just waves a hand and heads for the kitchen, Steve shuffling in his wake.

✦ and we are finally home by lastembers, sam & bucky + steve/bucky + sam/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam’s kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Circling Back by chaya, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 59.6k Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him. ✦ your favorite ghost by augustbird, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 21k It’s harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home. ✦ Green-Eyed Monster by storiesfortravellers, steve/bucky + steve & tony + steve & sam + bucky & natasha, humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier has joined the team and is slowly recovering, but he goes into a jealous rage whenever he sees that Steve is close friends with Tony, Sam, or Natasha. Past Steve/Bucky. ✦ Castor and Pollux by StringTheori, howard stark & steve + steve/bucky, mild the winter soldier spoilers, 2.9k A fic where Howard is emotionally constipated, a terrible human being, catches someone doing something, and brushes off friendships because he can. ✦ Find My Way by Brenda, steve/bucky + oc pov, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.6k Well, someone had to write the post-Winter Soldier fic where Bucky gets a decent meal and some homemade apple pie, right?

✦ Parallel Constructions by freshbakedlady, steve/bucky + sam + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 13.6k In the absence of orders, the man wearing the face of Bucky Barnes must figure out who he will be. The answer, mostly, is “somebody Steve Rogers can love.” Nothing so easy should ever take this much work. ✦ five people bucky barnes never was. by rhllors, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.9k Five lives that never came to pass. ✦ no heart to recall by KiaraSayre, steve/bucky & sam & natasha & tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 15.3k He’s been in Steve Rogers’s company for less than twenty-four hours and he’s already losing sight of his mission. ✦ Bring Us Back a Souvenir by newredshoes, steve/bucky & sam & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.5k Even with all his hair hacked off, he doesn’t look like a Bucky, Sam thinks. Maybe as some sort of stupid joke, like naming your most vicious dog Sweetpea. Steve’s told him the stories, and he’s seen the old newsreels; he knows what this Barnes guy used to be like. But it’s not like knowing what to look for is going to magically make some spark rise to the top. This isn’t an excavation. ✦ i will be your ground by misprinting, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.7k A character study. The subject: Bucky’s hair. (Also, a Bucky comes in from the cold fic.) ✦ Debts by vestigialwords, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k Steve’s life is a collection of debts, and the balance does not work out in his favor. ✦ Five times Steve kissed Bucky by paragon, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 16.5k (+ once, finally, it was the other way around) ✦ Run Until the Road Runs Out by ignipes, steve/bucky + sam & bucky + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 5.2k Sam’s along for this ride because he’s not about to let Steve Rogers go it alone, but Steve’s not the only one who needs a friend.

✦ And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me by ifeelbetter, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.4k The Captain woke quickly and tested the chain before he saw the Soldier. All the tension in his body evaporated once he met the Soldier’s eyes and he slumped downward, back up against the wall. “Oh, thank god,” he said. He repeated it twice, quiet. Like a secret. ✦ Your Mind Rings by Amberly, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.2k You aren’t Bucky. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, either, but you’re not Bucky ✦ tabula rasa by dance_at_bougival, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 10.3k Bucky Barnes screamed himself hoarse on that table and screamed falling off that train. He screamed when they programmed him and screamed and screamed until he isn’t Bucky Barnes anymore, not really. He is still screaming, a trapped rat running around a labyrinthine machine, clawing at the doors and running into dead ends. He has been screaming for seventy years. ✦ The Age’s Most Uncertain Hour by dewinter, steve/bucky + peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.8k Five times the Winter Soldier remembered (and then forgot). ✦ The Steven G. Rogers Guide to What You Missed the Last Few Years by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, humor, 5.1k Steve’s got the hang of this 21st century thing. ✦ All the First Times by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier spoilers, 9.6k Bucky starts over and finds new ways to survive. ✦ Me Against Your Memory (It’s a Two-Step Recovery Process) by thisiswhatthewatergaveme, steve/bucky + steve & natasha + steve & sam + natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 56.5k wip The Soldier needs answers. It’s the only mission he has left. And the mission is all he has.

✦ Make It Up as We Go Along by hannahrhen, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, mildly nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.6k Steve’s a terrible liar when he opens his mouth. ✦ What’s in a name by Ark, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.4k Steve doesn’t resist. He is dipped back: a dance. “Bucky,” says Steve. The severely serene surface does not stir. “You will answer the questions I ask.” The Soldier’s voice is Bucky’s but the accent is all wrong. His face is Bucky’s, perfect, and all wrong. ✦ Drawn From Life by littlerhymes, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 2.5k “I remember,” Bucky says, but that’s not entirely true. Set after The Winter Soldier.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR: ✦ Coming Back by Emotionallyunstabl, entire cast (some steve/bucky), infinity war spoilers, 1.9k Fixing Avengers: Infinity War. ✦ How ya been, Buck? by dvorahbee, steve/bucky, NSFW, infinity war spoilers, 2.3k A fix-it for Bucky and Steve’s reunion because I wasn’t too happy with that half-assed reunion we had. ✦ hold some dirt with those hands by magdaliny, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 3k It had sent him to his knees. ✦ To Never Have Loved At All by hitlikehammers, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 2.8k Steve will say they had work to do, and a universe to put to rights. They had people to find and hearts to unbreak. They had a mission. There was no time for any of them to mourn. Steve, as it turns out, says a lot of things that are mostly bullshit.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY GEN FIC RECS: ✦ This, You Protect by owlet, steve & bucky & everyone else, humor, 64.3k The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect ✦ By Choice or By Habit by Sholio, steve & bucky & natasha & clint & tony, 6.4k He is useful. He holds onto that. He is useful and a useful tool will not be thrown away. (For illumynare’s request: How about something with Bucky realizing the Avengers actually think of him as a person? And off I went to the utterly shameless h/c place.) ✦ 5 (+1) Times Bucky Was Already a Supersoldier by chaya, steve & bucky, 1k Erskine made it plain for Steve - the serum makes you stronger, faster, harder to kill, and it amplifies your existing qualities. Barnes, though, didn’t get any such heads up. ✦ Thaw by danveresque, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 7.5k The Winter Soldier tries to find Bucky Barnes. ✦ Brothers In Arms by copperbadge, steve & bucky & sam & sam & tony & pepper & clint + background tony/pepper, 11.4k Bucky Barnes gets a tune-up, a new pet, and a home. ✦ You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter, bucky & avengers, fluff, 4.5k Bucky saved a tiny dinosaur and took her home to Avengers Tower and on the way remembered how to laugh and sleep in soft beds. ✦ Strawberries in Wintertime by Sholio, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & sharon, 3.2k Or, how Sam’s apartment turns into a hangout for superheroes, spies, and rogue assassins. ✦ This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond, steve & bucky + sam + natasha, 2.9k Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked. Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.

✦ Almond, Clavicle, Orchid by kvikindi, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 4.5k You say, “I don’t know what I am.” “It’s okay not to know,” Steve tells you. His face is very careful. But you know. You know that it’s not okay. ✦ you can’t fly on dinosaurs, bucky by scorpionbythesea, steve & bucky & clint, humor, 1.2k Based off the tumblr post by embracingthemadness and the tag that followed: steve and bucky making up random stories from their past and convincing the other avengers that it actually happened (◡‿◡✿) #there’s no way you guys fought nazi dinosaurs ✦ Fly on the Wings of Love by Omnicat, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & tony & clint + some background pairings, domesticity, 13.2k The Wings: Bucky just wants to show his appreciation for everything Sam has done for Steve. Of course, Tony Stark’s middle name is ‘needlessly difficult’. The Love: Bucky tries to set Natasha up with Sam. He’s a bit late for that party, but he managed to find Steve’s shield and replace Sam’s wings: he’ll come up with something for her. ✦ Swap by sparkles_stars, steve & bucky + avengers, body swap, 1.2k Steve and Bucky switch bodies. Nothing of substance happens from that moment on. ✦ Escape by Sholio, steve & bucky, 2.4k Missing scene for Captain America: The First Avenger – freeing the prisoners was just the start of getting away. ✦ think of it as personality dialysis by KiaraSayre, bucky & darcy, humor, 1.4k “I strangled someone with a shoelace once,” Barnes says. “Does that count as expressing myself through clothes?” “Uh, no.”

✦ Name, Rank, and Serial Number by forthegreatergood, steve & bucky + other marvel characters, 1.5k A Nazi peeling off his skin and declaring himself beyond human doesn’t even get a rise out of him anymore, but Bucky doesn’t think he could stand it if Steve ripped off his face, too. ✦ The Dawn of That Last Great Day by ignipes, steve & bucky + avengers + minor pairing references, the winter soldier speculation fic, 13.8k The Winter Soldier has a mission: kill Captain America. ✦ All The Leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove, bucky & tony + some tony/pepper + very mildly implied steve/bucky, 17.4k The Winter Soldier's mission is nearly complete. Howard and Maria Stark are dead, leaving him to dispatch their four-year-old child. One quick twist of the neck is all it will take, but the Soldier finds he cannot do it. So instead of killing Tony Stark, the Winter Soldier takes him away to raise as his own.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ so this is how it is by sciencemyfiction, steve & bucky & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ptsd, 29.1k Following the events of the Winter Soldier film, Steve and Sam finally find Bucky, and work to get back to a good place. ✦ On Your Left by TravelingRoses, steve & bucky & natasha & sam & tony thor & fury peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 12.9k Five times someone told Steve to give up looking for Bucky and two times someone didn’t. Alternately, five times someone smacked Steve on the head and said “Don’t do the thing” and he continued doing the thing and two times he listened so he could keep doing the thing. ✦ and i have fought (in flesh and blood) by ChristinasInferno, steve & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.1k “He is Bucky Barnes and his best friend is Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers is Captain America.” Bucky, post-Winter Soldier. ✦ The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins by Sholio, steve & bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k Steve starts to notice someone’s been in his apartment while he’s not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers. ✦ Glass of Milk by Lauralot, bucky & avengers, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k In which in the Winter Soldier is in the care of the Avengers. He has yet to regain his memories, but he has developed a fondness for dairy products.

#lumi.txt #marvel #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #fic recs #marvel fic recs #captain america fic recs #stucky fic recs

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