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#peak of my gif making i have to say
nikidontsurf · 2 months
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GEORGE HARRISON and social interaction difficulties - part 2
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suppenzeit · 9 months
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♦️💎💥 Tom Nihill as Caboose 💥💎♦️
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welcome back to I Obsess Over Mine’s Face Too Much And The Subtle Way He Expresses today’s episode This Shit
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wenandcherrys · 2 years
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Some Superior Jun Looks for his Birthday 🥺
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ilaiyayaya · 3 months
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Finally Another Long Schizo-post, Been Too Long
Fuck I need to stop making everything a draft again and like actually post things, this blog exists for a fucking reason, and that reason is only partially for awawa_happy.mp4. I need to stop fucking reverting back into neet-mode every time I somewhat open up I literally made this to have an outlet to more easily prevent that.
Fuck I effectively went back into isolation again without even realizing it. In the last 6 months I have barely left my house outside of going to work and occasionally buying groceries, and I've even been buying groceries less frequently specifically because I've become afraid to go out in public most days again. Even when I do go somewhere now I more often than not spend like 30 minutes just sitting in my car trying to calm my nerves before going inside and it wasn't until today that I noticed I'd consistently been doing that again recently. Around August my car was broken for nearly 2 months and because of that I wasn't really able to go anywhere non-essential during that time, and I feel like that's probably what's started this downward spiral, before then I'd pretty consistently went somewhere fun every other weekend, and uhhh now I don't do that ever at all. It definitely didn't help that a few weeks ago I was stuck in my house for an entire week due to snow, and that was not a fun week, I think I may have actually been traumatized from being stuck in isolation for years before because within a single day of that week I was breaking. I really need to find the motivation to actually go out and do something more frequently again, it'd probably be a lot healthier than just rotting away at home.
In general I've felt a lot more anxiety-ridden recently, and the last month especially has been like, really bad. For as long as I can remember, usually my mental state fucking plummets around the holidays, but it always rebounds pretty quickly around January, that did not happen this year, very fucked up. I don't even know why exactly I've felt so shit this month, like there have been a few bad things happen but like, nothing more than like the average of most months, and a lot worse things happened in the latter months of last year than this past month. Like, my job's been even more hellish than usual recently, but like, outside of work I can't really pinpoint much, and I've literally been feeling worse on days where I'm off than when I'm at work so like, I don't think it's only that. But yea anyways anxiety bad, I've been a lot more nervous and irritable lately and that's not really fun, and I have a lot of weird, bad habits I do when I'm nervous like running my hands through my hair or biting myself that I've been doing way more recently and like, my hands hurt, I literally have a light bite mark on my wrist right now and I wasn't even conscious I was biting my wrist until I started thinking about writing this.
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Lalala work bad I hate work, work fucking SUCKS right now. There's like double the people there normally are and that's gonna remain the case for the next month at least and it's too fucking loud and people are scary and it's too fucking cold. Actually I think I figured out one of the reasons I feel like shit even on my days off recently, my schedule fucking sucks right now, I'm not even working that many hours but every week I'm alternating between having to wake up at like 6 a.m. and having to be at work at like nearly midnight and it's massively fucked up my sleep schedule and now I've just been eeping in like 2 hour intervals at completely random times throughout the day and I constantly feel eepy and some days I sleep like 1 hour and other days I sleep like 15 and I feel exhausted either way and now that I'm thinking about being eepy I'm getting eepy honk shoo honk shoo hoooonk mimimi that's a lie I'm not eeping I can't eep until I finish writing this otherwise I'll forgor everything I was gonna write zzzzzzz.
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Lalalalalalalalalalala bangs pans together really loudly to scare away the demons of self-consciousness (not to be confused with the angels of self-consciousness which are actually far worse). Dude being a girl is really cool and all but like whoever invented gender dysphoria is really actually not my friend (it was god, god did it, mods invert god's controls until he apologizes). Like I've always kinda hated myself in a lot of ways, and feeling dysphoric about my body especially is not at all a new thing, me being trans isn't even a new thing, but like with each passing month it just feels like it gets worse and this month was a big spike. Also I started slowly coming out to most of my friends like 6 months ago and most of them have been like relatively fine about it, but I've like kinda sorta maybe (?) sorta lost 2 friends and like 2 isn't a big number but it still feels pretty shit to have 2 people you considered friends, even if not super close friends, just stop talking to you completely. Anyways I don't know how to write about this kind of stuff without being too embarrassed or internally dying so no more gender talk BEGONE!!! maybe I'll eventually make a full post about it that I don't just keep as a roughdraft, someday.
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inmaki · 4 months
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gojo showing off your back scratches to geto
( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .
contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)
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everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.
a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.
there was only one thing ruining his peace.
all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.
despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.
"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.
right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.
great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—
"i fucked her!"
suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.
big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.
"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.
"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"
geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"
unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"
"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"
at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.
"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.
"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.
it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."
suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.
a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.
"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.
turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."
it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.
not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.
and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.
"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"
an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."
"huh. surprised you could last."
as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."
geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.
even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—
satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"
he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."
over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.
maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.
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mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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sirfrogsworth · 11 months
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If you have seen Ted Lasso you may have noticed these unusual microphones used by the football commentators.
Despite being a microphone nerd, I had never seen anything like them before. So I decided to go into research mode and discovered these microphones are quite fascinating.
They are called "Lip-Ribbon" or "Commentator's" microphones.
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They were specially designed by the BBC in the 1950s for extremely noisy environments. Soccer Football stadiums have peaked at 130 decibels so they needed something that would not get overwhelmed in that circumstance.
They use several very clever techniques to make sure only the voice is picked up and everything else is rejected.
First, they use a bidirectional polar pattern.
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That means it will accept sound from two directions, but reject any sound coming in from the sides. And since the diaphragm is only exposed on one side, that helps reject sound coming from the other direction.
Next, the microphone is not very sensitive so you literally have to hold it up to your lips (hence "lip-ribbon") in order for your voice to have enough sound energy to vibrate the diaphragm.
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That top part rests directly on your lip and there is a little pop filter to keep your plosives in check.
There is a built-in high pass filter so it rejects any sound below the frequencies typically used by the human voice.
But my favorite trick... a labyrinthian internal baffle system.
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(I found a diagram of this when researching but then I lost the tab and I cannot find it again. So you'll just have to accept this crude photoshop I did in 30 seconds to help you understand.)
Sound is energy. And that energy is diminished the farther it travels. The inverse square law for sound states that the intensity of sound decreases by approximately 6 dB for each doubling of distance from the sound source. Sound also diminishes when it reflects off a surface.
That is a very sciency way of saying... make sounds go through a tiny maze and only sounds with the most energy will prevail.
So if you have your lip pressed up against the front of the mic, your voice's energy will make it through the labyrinth of baffles without issue. But every other sound in the stadium will have a much harder time getting through.
These mics may even be vuvuzela-proof.
And even more amazing... this microphone was designed in the 1950s and they have yet to create anything better for incredibly noisy environments.
Isn't that neat?
I think it is neat.
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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MARRIED ON PURPOSE
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- gojo satoru x reader
"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.
genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here
note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.
“Don't look that sour now, wife.”
“…sigh.”
A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”
But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.
It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.
You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?
Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.
It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.
He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.
"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."
That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.
"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.
His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.
Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."
"Who?"
"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."
Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.
"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"
"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"
"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."
At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.
. . .
BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.
At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.
"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.
"I am smiling, Gojo."
"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"
Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?
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MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.
"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"
You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.
And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.
"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"
"And why?! Why should I do that?!"
"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."
"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"
"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."
Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.
The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.
You really had no choice, huh?
"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."
Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—
His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."
You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.
This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.
"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."
"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."
And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.
"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.
"The master! And the lady!"
Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—
"What's happening here?"
The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.
The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.
"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."
Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!
"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"
With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.
"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.
The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"
"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"
You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?
"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"
This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.
Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.
"You—you devil! You bit me!"
"Serves you right!"
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Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.
And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.
"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"
You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, but it shouldn't—"
"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"
For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.
The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.
“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”
He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”
“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”
"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"
You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"
"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"
You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.
"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"
You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"
"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"
"News flash: temporary wife."
"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"
You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."
Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.
Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?
"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."
"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"
"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"
"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."
Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.
"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.
He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.
"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.
Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…
You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.
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Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.
"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.
Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"
And what came next was like a crack of thunder.
"How insolent!"
You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—
"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."
You had never whipped your head so fast.
There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.
"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.
"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.
"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"
“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."
"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"
"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."
Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.
"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."
"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.
His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."
And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—
You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—
"Pfft, you wish."
—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.
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MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.
Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.
You could only imagine what he must feel.
. . .
When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.
"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.
It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.
It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"
"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."
Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.
Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.
You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"
"Whoa, that's sweet of—"
"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."
You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.
Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?
Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?
Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.
Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.
And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.
"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."
"Heh." I really am, aren't I?
"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"
He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."
You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.
Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.
"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."
"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.
Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.
But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.
"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.
"Consider this emotional support."
And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.
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How?
You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.
Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.
You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.
His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.
Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.
"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."
"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—
Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?
His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.
He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.
There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.
"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.
You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—
"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.
If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.
But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.
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MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.
You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.
This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.
You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.
But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.
This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...
Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.
The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?
With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.
. . .
If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.
Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.
And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.
How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.
When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"
You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"
Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.
Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?
The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."
Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."
It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!
Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.
Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.
Why? All reasons already listed above.
Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.
With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"
His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"
"Just give me an answer."
"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.
"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"
Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.
Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"
"Hey!"
"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."
An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.
Then it’s sealed.
Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.
The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—
“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”
Riiip~
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.
“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”
You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.
“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”
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kalims · 1 month
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⊹ giving them flowers
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premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3
content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)
featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.
note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)
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jamil gives you a look.
he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.
but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.
"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.
"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.
he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"
perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.
and that they're from, or gifted to another person.
you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"
"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"
you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.
a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.
... he just tripped over his words.
jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.
okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?
whatever he'll make it work.
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you should've expected this.
despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.
even though he probably already thinks that anyways.
you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)
sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.
you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.
sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'
he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"
was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.
your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.
you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.
—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.
"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.
even he looked surprised!
"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."
he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.
he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.
you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.
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for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.
but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.
"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.
it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."
you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?
riddle squints. "why?"
you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."
then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.
riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.
your raised brows say yes.
it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.
silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.
and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.
"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"
"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."
you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.
he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."
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you can barely see azul.
or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?
you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.
"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.
the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.
azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.
"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."
your brows furrow. what.
"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."
that's... concerning.
"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."
he says all that, with a pink face.
you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.
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bountydroid · 23 days
Text
Jealousy
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Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader
Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.
Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!
The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.
"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.
You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.
"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.
"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any vials"
"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.
"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone. 
Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.
"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"
"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.
You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you. 
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."
Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.
"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"
Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt. 
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."
"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.
"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.
You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say. 
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.
"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"
'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.
"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed. 
You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."
"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand. 
"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.
"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.
"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face. 
You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.
He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips. 
"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.
"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.
The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.
Tag list: @sitkafay
1K notes · View notes
muntitled · 8 months
Text
𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 & 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩
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: ̗̀➛ Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader | Brief!Harry Potter x fem!reader
: ̗̀➛ Summary: Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.
: ̗̀➛ Warnings: Alcoholism, Dark!fic, Ravenclaw!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Shy!reader, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Harry (sorry boo), Fluff, A bit of Angst, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), DubCon, Semi Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Dom/Sub, CNC, humping, Spitting, Degradation, Dacryphillia, Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Breeding Kink
5k words
A/N: Hell truly is empty. I apologise in advance.
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You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if the muggle God existed - if he is known to shepard Muggles and Wizards alike, then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once. The wizarding world is caught in its archaic intolerance of Half-Bloods. On the mortal side, you were informed from your private tutoring with Professor McGonagall that their smartphones are threatening devolution.
“It’s the closest thing they’ve got to a wand, Lovie, so we can’t really fault them on that, can we?” 6 years into your schooling at Hogwarts and you would continue to shadow Professor McGonagall, hoping you might one day soar to her heights of academic prestige in the wizarding world. You needed to be a Professor as much as a mortal needs to breathe….
You cannot let him, of all people, ruin things. Your reputation is a fragile, flammable thing - and he is freaking Kerosene.
It's difficult to pinpoint when it started or how your sensibilities rushed away from you so swiftly. One moment you’re planting your textbook on the face of a wooden desk - the sound reaching the rafters in the highest peak of the deserted classroom…
“A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration.” Mattheo read the title aloud with a tedious uninterested drawl. “Seems a bit presumptuous to shove this down my throat so early on. Shouldn't we be starting from the beginning?"
You ignored him promptly, using the silence to arrange your colour coordinated stationery on your desk beside Riddle's,
“I had no idea," You began, brushing off your blue lined robes and flattening the invisible creases on your skirt, "-That the person residing under my tutelage would be a first year."
Riddle stabbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your face remained passive as you continued, "You are a sixth year, correct?” You asked with a snide tilt of the head before planting yourself on the desk beside him.
“You are a big boy capable of understanding big boy books,” Unbeknownst to you, your words managed to stir something foreign within Mattheo but he conceals it with his usual veneer of arrogance as he swings his head lazily in your direction.
"May we begin?" You asked, with your back straightened - inches away from his hand now hanging on your chair.
"In a bit…" he says, "Just..." his voice trails off as his eyes scan over your visage, likely assessing it like an unseen tapestry. The truth is, Riddle did not know you prior to being forced under your tutelage. His droopy brown eyes appeared even more so as he broke the distance between you two and studied you closer. A tense silence grew pregnant in the ancient classroom, and your resolve was beginning to slip. Only one thought inflated a puddle of anxiety in your stomach:
Could this be your first kiss? Is this what first kisses looked like? Could this be your very first brush of intimacy overall?
Your brain failed to rationalise and compartmentalise his attraction, but your heart pushed your head closer.
"Call me a big boy again..." He had whispered… which evidently led you here.
Your lesson had ended with your hand covered in his release and a breathless smirk painted across his face. "This goes without saying," he breathed out with a satisfied smirk, "But tell anyone about this, and you're dead."
Ever since that day, your tutoring has been but a veneer of something much more sinister. When you were thrusted into the light of day, Mattheo overlooked you as did lots of his Slytherin friends. Besides the occasional threat and vague insult, you mean nothing to him.
When you two are alone, however, as you are right now, he would enchant you into servitude, lightly pushing your head down while he kissed you silly until your knees were planted on the hardwood floor.
Mattheo briefly opens his eyes to peer down at you. It is then when you notice the fresh bruise dotting the side of his face, and his pillowy lips split by a small incursion. He had very clearly gotten into another fight..
“Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be a smart ass,” His words illicit a bubble of heat inside you.
Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit. For starters, you can feel the old wooden floors digging into the meat of your knees and the crisp winter chill is unkind to your scantily dressed state. Your shirt is unbuttoned because Mattheo was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand is buried tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down your throat. The very bones of Hogwarts seem to be in vehement protest of your blatant whorishness.
3 silver chains hang from his neck as he plants his other hand against the wall behind you, blocking your kneeling frame between both him and cold, hard stone. You crane your neck back, keeping a half lidded gaze on the jewelry that drives you feral with lust. You are content imagining that perhaps, when he is getting ready in the slytherin common rooms, he wears the silver for you. A fanciful thought but one that consistently has your intestines weaving themselves into knots.
That, paired with his striking, jet black blazer, which is discarded somewhere in the abandoned classroom, has you keening and fighting to take even more of him into your mouth. Perhaps you were peacocking a little - flatting your tongue so his cock slid seamlessly to the back of your throat while you fought to ignore the pain blossoming on your scalp. He had turned you from an inexperienced nun to something you're not quite ready to examine yet.
"You're finally putting this head of yours to good use…" Despite his feigned arrogance you're utterly delighted knowing that only you can bring Mattheo to such an utterly restless state. He does not really know what to do with himself.
Not when you took so much of him, so well.
You clench your toes.
Feeling himself get too close, Mattheo eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your scalp. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that was special to Mattheo. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified toy.
"Are all Ravenclaws as compliant as you are?”
You bring a crisp white sleeve up to your lips, wiping away the excess drool as you remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.
"If you ever think of finding out," your voice is hoarse, "this will be the last time I offer you any free study sessions."
"Is money all you seek?" He attempts to feign composure, continuing to languidly stroke his cock. "How utterly greedy. I thought- fuck… - I thought you were far more philosophical than that"
You watch hungrily as Mattheo bites on his pillowy bottom lip. He is prolonging the release, taking his time as he usually did... "If you plan on edging yourself in my mouth instead of actually finishing the job, I do have other commitments to attend to-"
He ignores you... his brows furrowing and smoothening at odd intervals as he continues to touch himself while studying you.
"We may not be studying… but I still intend to pass Transfiguration, hope you're aware." He punctuates his sentence with an breathless laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes.
As he talks, you examine his scars and feel the slow essence of admiration seep into the pit of your stomach. An arguably pathetic feat, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.
Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Mattheo as a glorified parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own means. Something that takes, and takes, and occasionally jokes around, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and worst of them all.
"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to yourself. Mattheo's gaze is placed firmly on something down below. Throughout his mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against the leg of his pants, quite literally on its own accord. Mattheo is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.
Eventually, he dismisses you. He shakes his head. "Whatever," He says, tilting your head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."
Almost instinctively, you do as he orders and like clockwork, you swallow his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your words actually were. There was a moment, perhaps imagined, in which his fingers gripping your hair, melted to the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.
Mattheo soon straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable to the student body as they know him to be (which admittedly is not a lot) And before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.
"Tell anyone about this-"
"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."
And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection to assess the damage Mattheo and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended).
As far as Mattheo is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations through because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so unforgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.
It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of group projects and class discussions… so Harry Potter gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox, in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction during a rare free period in Study of Ancient Runes. Your professor has been summoned quite promptly by the headmaster and has yet to return. The class has been in a state of havoc ever since.
"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" A deep shadow over the pages alerted you to his presence, "They both die at the end."
It was incredibly rare that Potter, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. Gryffindors made use of Ravenclaws as often as Slytherins.
So naturally, you peer curiously up at him…
"Sorry?"
"Y-Your book. It's a muggle book, isn't it? I haven't seen anything with a cover like that around here. It's refreshing. Everything in the wizarding world is ancient and leatherbound." He mumbles as his index finger slides into the collar of his red quidditch jersey. He finds himself suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.
"'They Both Die At The End." He says, pointing towards the title.
"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"
"No," Harry snickers before waving a large hand in dismissal, "Evidently, the only thing I 'made' was a complete and utter fool of myself."
You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly.
"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."
"Is that how it is!?" Harry asked, pleasantly surprised by your banter, "- I could've sworn I had a shred of dignity before the start of this conversation. Now I'm not quite sure where that went."
Mattheo's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until Draco shoves past him, to get to their own seats in the front of the class.
His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgment of his presence.
You do nothing of the sort, and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.
Mattheo has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance.
Overthinking is something he consistently lives without.
Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.
His glances at the front of the class before finding you once more in the very back corner of the class. He notices that Harry is stationed in front of you but the seat beside you is completely deserted.
Did you not have friends?
And more importantly; how did he never notice until now?
What if…
Perhaps if he…
"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Harry rallying into silence. Mattheo appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Potter - who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Mattheo injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your wide eyes off Mattheo as he lowers himself to his chair beside you with his legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.
"Don't stop on my accord," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your professor might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you. His slouching puts him a level lower than you, but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation.
"Maybe I should ask, Potter?" Mattheo turns his attention to the front, "What were you lot talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Riddle's tone. In fact, it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalate into full-on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.
Harry's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-"
"Books!" Mattheo cuts him off with sarcastic fervour, "How utterly fascinating!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but you look down at your desk in blatant anger. Refusing to be a part of whatever this is.
"And tell me, Potter, how many books have you read so far?"
It is then that Riddle's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…
Your breath hitches in your throat.
Never had Mattheo ever displayed a desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.
"A couple,'' says Harry, fighting to show this bully that he was unaffected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Mattheo's palm made, you were slipping farther and farther away.
"A couple books?" Asks Riddle for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story.
He finally slips under your skirt.
His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it. His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.
Not at all.
If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.
The tips of Mattheo's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.
Mattheo's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Potter?"
Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through the desk and Mattheo's overabundance in questions, has Harry reeling backwards.
"I asked you a question, Harry."
"I like reading."
"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Riddle tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh. His nails bite into your skin, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.
Mattheo is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you.
That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along.
He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Potter for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Potter had gone far enough, would you replace him? Had you even fucked Potter before?
You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows even further into your book. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Mattheo's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - for the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Harry Potter still very much a part of the conversation.
"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Mattheo. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties. "Don't cut your long life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, yeah?" Gone are any traces of feigned friendliness. "Fucking Mudblood,"
Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Potter could not see the slight tremor in your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary.
Mattheo's words… they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.
"Understood?"
Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Harry give you one final curious look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aid Mattheo's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.
Once Harry is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Mattheo lowers his lips to your ears. The damp smell of firewhiskey floods your nostril and you realise that he is completely drunk. In the second lesson of the day.
However, you're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a lost little puppy until you make a mess all over his hand.
"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony. "You like being humiliated like this?" He asks, almost in complete awe. It takes everything in you not to moan outright.
"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, warding off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for your Professor's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Mattheo's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he labelled you as.
Instead of moving to his designated seat, Riddle raises his hand for the professor… the very same hand that has previously been in between your legs.
"Yes, Mr Riddle?" Asks the Professor, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.
"May we be excused? We were excused by Professor Slughorn to assist him in-"
"Fine, fine," Says the professor with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."
Riddle's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.
"Here," you have barely made it fully into the boy's bathroom before Mattheo is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom sink.
"Is that good?" His voice is as sweet as honey as he forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them.
Mattheo has half his sense to pull his wand from his back pocket, and without turning around, whispers "Colloportus," and the heavy doors snap shut.
You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Mattheo is always a ball of sarcastic energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.
You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.
The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of tears grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.
"My girl," Mattheo presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his body into your side. His hard cock in unmistakable through his school pants, "My messy little girl,"
You finally moan candidly while your fingers grip the countertops and your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to make you cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.
"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner,"
This is all new, even for the two of you.
"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart.
"Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you. Mattheo removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.
Mattheo weaponizes your distraction to reach around and slide your panties to the side with one hand while he rubs your soft nub with his other, spit-coated hand.
You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.
"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've fucked that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.
"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.
Mattheo collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.
Deciding not to waste anymore time, he does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom sink and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock rams your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers small slaps against your cheek. Riddle keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.
"You think you're so fucking smart but you're just my little whore, arent you? A little whore thst fucks anything that gives her the slightest bit of attention?" It doesn't even register that Mattheo wrongfully suspects that there had been something between you and Harry but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.
"Oh~ fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving him balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Potter?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Potter?!" His voice is utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting.
He is panting, while he mumbles into your ear.
"What would Potter think? If he saw you like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum so deep inside you? Completely ruining you for anyone else, huh?"
"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "It's only ever been you, Mattheo -oh my god! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.
"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."
"Oh my God, Mattheo, I fucking need you." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.
His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes became sloppy. His mind is flooded with the tightest of your cunt around his cock- how someone so smart could possibly ever say they need him. It has a flood of heat pooling at the base of his cock. "You're so fucking pretty… my pretty girl - my pretty whore," He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your arms wavering while your back arches towards him, only allowing him better excess.
"I need you," You say once more, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need you to cum inside me."
"Oh my fucking god," Mattheo's eyes soften in their desperstion, "M'gonna fucking breed pussy right here- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.
"Y-Youre making me cum, baby- fuck-" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice.
"So… so pretty" His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.
The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.
"I think I nearly killed Potter today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.
"There is no Harry Potter," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you, Mattheo."
And a part of him believes you, but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Mattheo's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.
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matchamiko · 1 month
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Lucky Undies
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: oral sex ( f -> receiving) m.masturbation, mentions height difference (reader implied shorter than Aizawa), reader implied big belly, thighs + ass (ie. not skinny), prev. established relationship, sooooo self-indulgent don’t look at me
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Note: disgusted with myself honestly.
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“What are those?”
You stop in your tracks, toothbrush lodged in your cheek and foam threatening to drip down your chin.
Aizawa stands behind you in the bathroom doorway, eyes trained dark on the tug of your sleep shirt over your ass. Spitting into the skin, bending lower and offering more of a view, you finish washing your mouth with heat all over your face,
“I didn’t have anything else clean, s’all I got,” you explain yourself, eyes connecting with his in the mirror,
“And they’re your last resort because?” Arms folded over his broad chest sprayed with dark hair, Aizawa cocks his hip against the doorway, eyes never leaving the peak of your asscheek from beneath the t-shirt. It’s his and it’s soft and he offered it to you on your first sleepover years ago, a little tighter round the middle now but still long enough to pass as a nightie.
“They don’t fit!” You resort with embarrassment, “they pinch my hips and they go up my butt ‘nd roll down my belly if I bend down or even move,” you feel as though there’s steam hissing from your ears, suddenly regretting even putting on the offending underwear. You’d miscounted your laundry days and found yourself wearing either silky lingerie or old high legged cheeky style undies that were a very adorable baby pink and sported a little red rose at the front. Usually you wore comfortable high rise with a trusty band and often times sensible colours so to not show through your chosen trousers or skirts of the day. Maybe you’d wear a thong if you felt adventurous but comfort was key in your relationship with underwear, and being with Aizawa for so long helped you not only explore that a little bit but also enabled you to stay comfortable without judgement or ridicule.
And Aizawa liked your plain underwear, didn’t care much for it really because all he often wanted was them off or not even on in the first place. Complaining about his partners choice in underwear was beneath him; he’s a man, he’s mature and he’d much rather eat your pussy than muse over what’s covering it.
But these? He’s not seen these before.
“Cute,” he says with a gravelly voice, stalking forwards slowly, “you look cute,”
Biting your lip, you shake your head,
“I’ll just put some gym shorts on and do a quick wash, s’stupid to even try to do anything in these,” you grumble dejectedly, turning and even in your limited movements, the seam tugs over your cheek and makes you cringe.
But Aizawa is as sturdy as he is stubborn, a wall preventing you from leaving and a large hand sits heavy and inviting on your hip.
“I said you look cute,” he says pointedly, “not just the underwear, but you in general, seeing your skin makes me - desperate,”
That hand smoothes under your sleep shirt, fingering the thin, stretchy band of the panties with a heavy breath in his chest. The harder he pulls the band, the higher up your hip they go and the further up your -
“They’re just panties Shouta,” you blink up at him, leaning closer to ease his fondling, “stupid uncomfable panties that is,”
“Shh,” Aizawa kisses you quiet, a peck to keep you satisfied while his other hand drifts over to your ass, fisting the fat and spreading you meanly, “just - lemme look for a sec,”
His eyes catch the flash of your asshole in the mirror, panties caught taught and high over your ass and he groans low and deep from his belly. You clear your throat and whimper when he buries his face into your neck, teeth scraping the delicate skin there. Then - his hand rounds to your stomach, fiddling with the little silky rose before tickling the exposed skin of your belly from where the panties had dislodged and folded down.
He doesn’t often explore you this selfishly, having listened to your qualms and insecurities over your body, doing it to prove that no weight could distance him from desiring your body. But he touches you with a filthy selfish agenda and filthier moans.
Thick fingers tease you over the fabric, slippery with your arousal, sliding between your folds and circling your clit with loud little click. It’s shameful how turned on you are at his exploration of your underwear, but he’s no better; hard and heavy and leaking against your hip. ‘Nd when you look down, mewling at the thick forearm jammed between your cushiony thighs, you can see the flushed tip of his cock peaking from the sagging waistband of his underwear, black and tight and baring a hole just above the seam on his thigh.
And suddenly you understand exactly how Aizawa feels with you in underwear he’s never seen before. Because those are boxers you bought him three christmases ago and are also a result of not doing laundry often enough. And when you look up at him with your hand squeezing him through the thin fabric; your shameful desperation is reflected in his eyes.
All too suddenly, Aizawa is on his knees and your lower back is cradled uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, and he’s all up between your thighs with devastating groans and grunts.
“Taste’s fuckin’ divine,” his tongue is hot and so wet against the gusset of your underwear, pulled tight over your cunt and practically frothing with how aroused you are. One hand cups your ass and spreads you, the other is crude and sharply tugging on his cock. At the taste of you. At the smell of you. Nipping your clit through the fabric and sucking hard enough to send you shuddering and shaking right down to your toes.
“Shouta ! S’too much !” You grip the top of his head, hair tangled from sleep but the tugging of the knots seem to encourage him, groaning into your cunt and huffing deep agonising breaths against your pubis. You’re on your tiptoes, one leg lifting a little even to give him space and Aizawa shuffles closer on his knees, haphazardly throwing your leg over his broad, sinewy shoulder.
It’s almost like the sensations are muted, dulled through the thin fabric of your panties. But they’re still there and you fumble with your shirt for a moment before lifting it and tucking the hem beneath your chin so you can look down, down at your boyfriend so eagerly and so messily slurping at your pussy.
He’s feral like this, eyes fluttering and nose pressed hard into your clit, tongue trying to rip through into you but failing miserably. Or not, as it seems that wasn’t his goal, simply content with tasting you through the panties that had entrapped him so suddenly. You couldn’t even feel confused and weird at his random bout of arousal over your too-small panties, too thrummed with pleasure and the shivers of an orgasm to really deep dive it.
It rears its head slowly, but with a strength you’d yet to experience before. All suction and desperate licks, moans and grunts vibrating you just enough to send you jerking into his mouth. Hips moving on their own, tits falling from the grasp of your shirt and shuddering with your movements. Your underwear slips and tugs harshly as you grind through your orgasm, pulled taught only by Aizawa’s insistent tongue and fingers. He seemed to have given up on his own pleasure, or got enough from watching and tasting you, both hands clutching your thighs around his head.
“Let up, oh my god, give me a sec Shouta,” you’re still panting hard, limbs boneless and belly throbbing with every aftershock, cunt fluttering against the sodden and stained panties, “you’re such a - now I really don’t have anything to wear today,”
Your words die from a telling off to a small sigh at the sight of him, drunk on the sight and taste of you. His eyes are heavy, mouth open and shining with your spend, cheeks flushed and chest heaving,
“Good news for me then,” he stands with a grunt, coming in close enough for you to smell the remnants of your orgasm on his lower face - but he doesn’t kiss you. Instead massaging your hips and the tangled band of your underwear, “I’m having you on my face next, ‘nd keep these on,”
He’s a pervert really, snapping the band and making you tut in disapproval. But as you follow him into the bedroom with a sheepish grin and nervous lust building in your chest; you realise you are too, for letting him indulge in this and letting him.
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prettypinkprincessa · 2 months
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Rafe x sunshine reader ☀️
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☀️ He thought it was a joke at first. The way you would peak in his room to say hi, to give him little treats, to ask if he was okay. You were overly sweet. And it made him sick. Today was the day of Sarah’s birthday party. She invited you, some other friends and of course, rafe.
“Rafe!! Go down and help y/n grab the cake out of the car!!” Sarah yelled from upstairs. Rafe groaned and headed out front.
“Hi Rafe!!” You wave and he rolls his eyes.
“Where’s the cake?” He asked.
“Oh! I already put it inside!” Before he could respond he looked you up and down. Noticing the tiny ass bikini you were wearing. Tits slipping out the side of your top. “Are you serious?” He asks.
“What do you mean Rafe?”
“…nothing.”
☀️ The whole day he kept an eye on you. Watching as you swam in the pool, how you ate your watermelon and sucked on your popsicles. You had to be doing this on purpose. I mean he didn’t believe you were this oblivious.
“Rafe?” You entered the back door walking over to him. Wearing his shirt.
“Sarah said I could use one of your shirts as a cover up…is that okay with you?” You asked, hopping up and down on one foot to the other.
“I mean you already have it on dont you?”
You giggle at his “joke” and he watches as you walk away. Ass print visibly jiggling through the shirt.
☀️ “Sarah tell your little friend to put some fucking clothes on”
“Huh!?” She questioned.
“Look at her.”
You sat on the couch comfortably with rafes shirt sliding down your shoulder. Knees up to your chin, putting your bikini covered puffy cunt on display. You look back at them noticing the way they’re both staring at you.
“Huh? Did anyone call my name?” You ask sweetly. Smiling at both of them.
He groaned loudly at your innocence, grabbing a sheet of paper and holding it over the bulge in his pants as he walked away.
☀️ As the night gets older more people start to arrive meaning, more men started to hit on you. Rafe lurked from a distance. Eyeing every man that approached you. Noticing how they glanced at your tits and stared at your ass as you walked away.
“Hey” Rafe said, standing infront you. “Hi Rafe!” You exclaimed. Smiling up at him sweetly.
“Um, where’s my shirt?”
“Huh? You look down and realize what he’s asking about, “oh! I took it off since I was going in the pool but…I can’t seem to find it” you scan around the room for his shirt before shortly returning your gaze back to Rafe.
“Okay well, here.” Rafe took his shirt off and handed it to you. His bare chest right in your face.
“O-oh thanks”
You take it and avoid his gaze. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable with your staring.
“So are you gonna put it on?” He asked.
“Oh! Yeah.” You smile while throwing his shirt on. It hung over your entire body. Looking more like a dress than a shirt. He smirked gently.
“There, that way people won’t hit on you”
“Huh?” You asked, not hearing him fully. He groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Nothing.”
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💫 not proof read so sorry for any mistakes!!
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
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hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼
Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??
First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣
Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…
Part 2
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You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.
‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.
He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.
For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.
‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’
‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.
‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’
He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.
‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.
‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.
Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’
Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.
‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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try on
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words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, public, blowjob, car head (but hes not driving)
“what the fuck is this flimsy shit?” rafes fingers feel the material of the changing room curtain after he hung the clothes up that you've been piling up in his arms while you flitted around the store.
“i know, i wish they had a door.” you say with a roll of your eye. you set your bag and phone down on the stool before turning to rafe. “thanks baby, you can sit down.” you gesture towards the couches in the fitting rooms, already a couple other boyfriends lounging around.
“alright…” rafe eyes the curtain wearily before cupping your jaw, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
when he sits down, rafe makes sure to plop down on a cushion that allows him an easy line of sight to your changing room. you are blissfully unaware of rafes displeasure as you changing into the first dress, finding it a little too tight but still deciding to step out and show rafe.
“what do you think?” you walk between the couches, not noticing the eyes of the other men also looking at you. you assume since rafe would never even glance at another girl that the other boyfriends would give you anything more than a quick look.
you twirl around so rafe can see the back of the dress. “i think it's a little too tight around my ass, do you like it though?”
“shit, baby.” rafe groans, standing up and frowning at the men who quickly look away as he puts his hands on your hips, pushing you back towards your changing room.
“what is it rafe?” you whine, almost tripping over as he moves you back into the small room.
“they were all staring at you baby!” he grunts out.
“okay?” you cross your arms, pushing your chest up even more in the low cut dress, almost breaking rafes attention. “why do you care anyone else looks at me? you know im yours.”
“because, men are fucking creeps.” rafe says. “and you look really fucking hot in this dress, but yeah it's too tight.”
“okay.” you nod, rubbing your hands over rafes shoulders. “let me try on my next dress, yeah?” hoping your soft tone calms him down.
“fine.” rafe huffs, accepting your kiss as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against his as rafes hand moves down from your waist to grip your bum.
“be out in a minute.” you step away, smirking at rafe as you pull the curtain closed. rafe cautiously takes his seat again, eyeing the men who suddenly all have their eyes casted down.
rafe glares as one of the guys stands up to head back into the main section of the store, and rafe swears that he tries to peak past the edge of your curtain, his head turning just enough when passing your dressing room that rafe shoots to his feet.
“rafey, is that you baby?” you call when a shadow darkens your curtain, hands coming to hold either edge to the wall, keeping it taut.
“it’s okay, just change.” rafe grunts.
“i’m in my next dress, do you wanna see?” you call.
rafe tugs the curtain open just enough for him to step inside. “i love it. we’re getting it.” rafe says, taking the clothes that you haven’t tried on yet off the hook, hanging them over his arm. “we’re getting all of them.” “but i haven’t tried them on yet.” you pout.
“you can give me a personal try on fashion show at home baby, lets just go.” rafe leans to pick up the clothes you came in in off the seat, pressing them into your hands.
“okay, okay.” you sigh, taking the dress off under rafes watchful eye before redressing, adding the dress to the heap of clothing in his arms. “whats got you so worked up?”
“just wanna get home.” rafe says, tired of being on guard, needing to just be at peace with you in his arms, no other man around.
“okay, baby.” you coo, wrapping your arm around rafes bicep as he carries the clothes out of the changing area and towards the register.
rafe doesn’t make a big deal of paying, he never does, loving to spoil you, especially when most of the clothes you buy you wear for him.
he takes the bags of clothing before you can even reach for them, his hand coming to the small of your back as he leads you out of the shopping mall, towards the parking lot.
“rafey, slow down.” you complain as he hustles through the car park. “my legs aren’t as long as yours.” “sorry, sorry.” rafe slows his pace, glad his truck is within sight. he helps you into the passenger seat once you get there before throwing the bags into the back seat, rounding the hood with eyes on constant alert still, unable to relax yet.
“thanks for shopping with me.” you say as rafe climbs in, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, seeing his jaw unclench and shoulders drop a little. 
rafe turns his head to give you a proper kiss as his hands fumble with the keys before starting the car, giving you another peck before turning towards the road, backing out of the spot and navigating the large truck through the parking lot.
“pull over here.” you point to an empty lot, in front of a store that closed down a while ago.
“why?” rafe questions, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice, wanting to get you home alone as soon as possible.
“just do it.” you hum, a teasing smile on your face as you unbuckle and then lean over, pushing the folded down center console out of the way as you rub your hand over the front of rafes pants the second the car is shifted into park.
“baby-” rafe groans, his head falling back against the headrest.
“wanna thank you for buying those clothes for me.” you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you undo his pants button before tugging the zipper down, pulling the two sides of his pants open to reveal his boxers.
you press your lips against the fabric of his underwear, feeling his cock thicken as you kiss along his length, the zipper pressing against your chin, but you ignore it in favor of pressing your tongue to wet the fabric even further.
“fuck, baby.” rafe groans, hands coming to his hips as he tugs his pants and underwear down, not caring that anyone could drive into the parking lot and see what is going on. his truck is tall enough with tinted windows that he isn't worried.
“mmm, so hard and big for me.” you coo, placing your hand on the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes as you watch in fascination as a big of precum leaks out of his tip.
you lean forward, tongue sneaking out as you lap over the head of his cock, tongue slithering over the slit.
rafes hand comes to the back of your head, pushing you down. you barely cover your teeth in time as your mouth opens, letting him push you down until your lips reach where your hand is wrapped around his length.
“good girl, that's it.” rafe purrs out, his voice deep and sultry as you suck, tongue rubbing along his cock as you begin to move your head, pulling off his cock slightly before pressing back down.
you moan around rafes length, loving how stretched your cheeks have to get, how deep down he reaches your throat as you bob your head, his hand still resting against your curls, providing a slight amount of pressure to encourage you to continue.
“wish those dicks in the store could see you. instead of staring at your ass they could stare at you sucking me.” rafes frustration is clear in his voice, and despite his dick in your mouth, you roll your eyes as you continue to move, knowing it's ridiculous that he cares so much when you only have eyes for rafe.
you pull off his dick with a plop, immediately beginning to stroke your hand. “no need to be jealous baby.” 
“im not jealous.” rafe grunts as your thumb swipes over the head of his cock. “just annoyed that they think they can look at what's mine.”
you go to respond when rafe pushes your head back down, other hand coming to hold you as well as he begins to thrust his hips up, your hand having to come to his thigh to stabilize yourself as he fucks your mouth, his hips moving up and down off the seat to plunge deep down your throat.
you are used to taking him, but not in his position as you gag slightly, but the noises just spur rafe on as he moves faster.
“such a nice warm mouth for me baby.” rafe says, panting as his arms continue to work you up and down. “such a tight throat.”
you swallow around his cock at the praise, tightening the walls of your throat even further around his dick as rafes hips thrust up.
“so close.” he warns, breath quickening as his cock pushes in and out of your mouth quickly before he lifts up, shoving your head as far down as he can, nose nuzzling into his skin as he cums, releasing deep down your throat as he moans.
you swallow obediently as rafe slumps back down. you pull off slowly, pressing gentle kisses along his length as he softens before sitting up, patting at your chin to fix your ruined makeup as rafe tucks himself back into his pants.
“thank you for taking me shopping rafey, can't wait to try all the new clothes on.” you coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sliding back over to your seat, doing your seat belt as if nothing happened.
“can't wait to fuck you in your new clothes when we get home.” rafe says, clearing his throat as he shakes his head, trying to get back in the right mindset to drive home.
“mhm, after i try everything on though.” you clarify.
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outsideratheart · 1 month
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Healing (Alexia Putellas x reader)
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A/N: This took me a lot longer to finish than I hoped but it’s done. Grab a drink and get comfy because it’s a long one, in fact I think it’s my longest fic to date.
The world had its questions and you were well aware of the headlines.
Y/N Y/L/N quits football.
Where is Y/N Y/L/N? Here's what we know.
The best in the world has vanished.
If you find Y/N tell her Sarina is looking for her.
The last twelve months had been the hardest in your life. You thought you could prepare for it, that it would easier because you knew it was coming but that wasn't the case. The day it happened was the day your heart broke and as you buried her you knew you were burying part of yourself too.
You left the world speculating as to why you didn't extend your contract with Lyon, why you never signed for another club and more importantly people were wondering where you had disappeared to.
Both your club and country team mates knew about your personal life and the tragedy that happened shortly after the euros. 
You missed football, of course you did, but you also needed to take time away to process what had happened. A return date was never set but then the world cup happened. You watched your team mates cry after losing to Spain and you couldn't help but feel partially responsible. The game might have ended differently if you had played.
A decision had been made. It was time to return to the pitch. You had offers before and after the euros. The only question is what teams would still want you? 
The sun was setting in Barcelona as the team finished up a late training session. Most of the players stayed behind to take advantage of the free food given they knew once they got home they wouldn't have the energy to cook themselves.
“Lucy your phone is ringing” Ona shouts over to where the English defender is filling her plate. 
“Who is it?” Lucy replies. 
Ona’s face floods with guilt. Almost as if she shouldn’t be looking at the phone. This sparks interest of those around her but no one more than Keira who sees the name on the screen. 
“Y/N” Lucy all but ran back to table after hearing Keira say your name “is everything ok? Where are you? Yes I’m with Lucy. Before I hand you over promise me that you’re ok? Good” 
Keira hands over the phone and watches Lucy’s face as she tries to figure out why you called and what you are talking about. 
“Yes there are people around me. Ok, I’ll ask” 
When you hang up the phone Lucy does as you ask or at least she makes the first step. 
“Alexia” Lucy walks around to where the captain is sat with Mapi and Ingrid “Who would I talk about signing a new player?”
“It’s not our job to recruit players but if you know something that might help the club then tell me and I will ask” Alexia wasn’t stupid. She heard your name and now Lucy was asking this. It wasn’t a coincidence. 
“I can’t. This is a sensitive subject” 
“Vale. Talk to Jona and if he thinks the player is right for the club then he can set up a meeting” 
Alexia left the training facility that night thinking of you. You were at the peak of your career, many people considered you the best in the world and if she is being honest she thought you would win the Balon d’Or, not her. That night Alexia watched your highlights for hours, even the ones in the games against her. You really were a once in a generation player which makes it that much harder for Alexia to understand why you walked off the pitch at Wembley and hadn’t been seen on one since. 
The next day at training the energy felt different. Lucy and Keira had a sense of happiness that their team mates hadn’t seen before. They would gather around Lucy’s phone but then hide it when somebody came close to them. 
Jona came walking into the gym with Xavi Puig right behind him and called over both Keira and Lucy. A couple of players watch the conversation unfold and tried their hardest to read their lips.
“Ingrid, what are they saying?” Mapi nudges her girlfriend.
“They’re talking about Y/N Y/L/N” Alexia was stretching on the floor playing no part in the eavesdropping.
“How do you know?” Ingrid asks her.
“She called Lucy yesterday and then Lucy talked to me about the club signing a new player. I can’t know for sure but that’s what I think is going on”
A couple of days later you landed in Barcelona, greeted by the warm weather and your two England team mates who kept a low key appearance in the arrivals hall. You stop when you are a meter away them. You didn’t know what to do, you hadn’t seen them in almost a year. 
“Come here” Lucy throws her arms around you followed by Keira.
“We’re so happy to see you Y/N. We really have missed you” 
You remain quiet as you walk to the car. Both of them fill you in on what the team is like and you make sure to remind them that you haven’t officially signed yet.
“Jona mentioned that. You want a trial training session?”
“It’s the right thing to do” you didn’t want any special treatment. You wanted to earn the right to play for the club and not just be handed the contract.
“You could have not played football for 5 years and still run rings round all of us” Lucy knows you the most having played with her at both club and country. You were too humble in her eyes so she took it upon herself to remind you of your greatness from time to time.
“I never said I haven’t played football. That has been the thing to get me through the past 10 months” you didn’t mean to be a downer, in fact you didn’t know what you were saying until it was too late.
“How are you doing?” Keira asks from the front seat and you see Lucy eyeing you up in rear view mirror.
“Some days are harder than others and no day has been easy. She would be happy that I’m here though. She always said that if I didn’t go back to England then she’d want us to come here”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name. 
“She always did hate the french winters” Lucy laughs at the memories she shared with your wife.
Your mind goes back to just a couple of years ago. Lyon were playing at home and the weather was awful. You saw Natalia in the crowd shivering but still she cheered you on, she always was your biggest fan. Come rain or shine, your girl was in the audience. You hated the thought of playing without her being in the crowd but you also knew she wouldn’t want to give up your career.
“Y/N” Keira gently nudged your knee. It was obvious that you were taking a trip down memory lane and she didn’t want to scare you.
“Huh” you quickly wiped away a tear “Oh we’re here” you grabbed your backpack and jumped out of the car leaving them in the front not knowing what to do.
“Let’s leave her be. She knows we are here and will come to us when she’s ready”
You were in awe as you walked the halls of Joan Camper. The things the team has achieved were that of greatness. It was a club that created legacys and you found yourself feeling something that you hadn’t in a long time; excitement.
Lucy and Keira lead you to the locker room just as they were instructed to. The rest of the team were already out of the field which was part of the plan. There hanging in a corner locker was a training kit for you. You didn’t expect it and you definitely didn’t expect to have been given your number.
“You did this?” You ask the pair.
“Salma did. The team knows you called Lucy and when Salma heard to locker room rumours of you joining she insisted. Between us she is a big fan of yours, bigger than Luce”
“Not possible” the defender joked.
The boots were fastened and you were ready, well almost ready. There was one thing you wasn’t prepared for. You looked down at your necklace. It was a simple gold chain that held two rings: yours and Talia’s.
“I can’t do it” you slumped down in defeat and bury your face in your hands.
“Hey” Lucy crouches down in front of you “they let us wear jewellery for training, you can keep them on”
You walked out onto the field and all eyes fell on you. You felt like a spectacle and you hated the attention. They didn’t know the current version of you, they had only met the old Y/N so you channel her and introduce yourself to them during the next drinks break.
“I know some of us have met as opponents but this is different. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope I can keep up” you make a joke hoping to avoid the elephant in the room.
“We’ll see about that. I’m Alexia” She is the first person to you.
“Lovely to meet you Alexia” 
It’s hard to explain the feeling when you’re playing football. It’s as if you mind switches off whilst also been completely focused. It take a few attempts to get into the rhythm that is Barcelona football but you catch on quickly. It comes as no shock to the rest of the team that you play in complete sync with Lucy and Keira. The two of them even stay back at the end to work with you on some movements that you weren’t pleased with.
Some players go shower but a few stay behind, albeit out of sight, and watch you. 
“She has a gift” Alexia says to nobody in particular.
“Nobody has seen her in over a year and this is how she is playing. Look, she is running rings around them. How is that possible?” Patri adds.
“Does anybody know where she was?” Pina asks the small group.
“No but I could ask Ingrid or Caro to ask Ada. They are best friends and surely you would tell your best friend where you are going” Mapi forms a plan in her head, one that she will soon find out to be a bad idea.
“Do it” Alexia tells the defender “We are a family here and if she joins us then we have a right to know where she has been”
When Barcelona posted a photo of you signing a contract on their socials the world went crazy. The media were relentless and the fans were quick to show their support for you even though some were skeptical about your sudden reappearance and new team. 
You ignored them for the most part as they had no idea what had happened. You fit into the team almost right away and was enjoying every game with Barcelona. You scored on your debut and had been involved in a goal every game since. Months had passed and much to your surprise you had only been asked about the missing year once or twice. 
Caro refused to ask Ada about you and Ingrid only did when her girlfriend became obsessed with finding out the truth. Ada’s answer was simple ‘I won’t tell you and if she doesn’t want you to know then you should respect her wishes’.
You remained a mystery though and for the most part the team seemed to forget about your missing year. 
When the second international window came that is when things changed and you felt like you made a friend. Mapi still wasn’t representing her country so she reached out and asked if you wanted to meet up for a coffee. 
Anybody could easily be intimidated by the blonde but you liked her. She had this energy that made you know accepting her invite was a no brainer. That and you had questions of your own. 
“How did you know?”
Mapi places down a a small coffee in a glass; a cortado. 
“I asked Keira what you ordered”
A comfortable silence took over as the two of you sipped on your coffees. You found it funny the way Mapi looked at you then her coffee and back to you again. You recognised the signs; you were making her nervous. Why though you had no idea.
You decide to make the first move and you get straight to the point much to the defender’s surprise.
“I spoke with Ada”
This got her attention. You had your suspicions but the look on her face confirmed it. Still, she played along.
“That’s nice. You’re very close, no?” Mapi tried her best to look innocent but you weren’t having any of it and the look on your face told her that.
“She had an interesting conversation with Ingrid. Do you happen to know anything about this?”
She did. You know she did. 
“No” you got a sheepish look from Mapi and you wondered if she knew how unconvincing she was being.
“I think you did. I think you got Ingrid to ask Ada about me”
“Lo siento”
“Here’s the thing I don’t understand. I know you all want to know, you’ve been whispering about me for months yet not one of you has come to me and asked me directly. You have been going behind my back trying to dig up information about a time that I clearly don’t want to talk about”
Mapi dips her head. She truly thought that her and the team were been careful but obviously not. 
“Maria, I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Would you want to talk about it with strangers when you barely talk to your best friends about it?”
The defender thinks about it for a moment. You had barely left Lucy and Keira’s side but she hadn’t really heard you talking, you were always listening to what they were saying and replying when necessary.
“It was bad wasn’t it?” She asks. 
“The worse year of my life” you confess and you can your throat close at the thought of the months in question.
“We are in jail?” 
You cannot help but chuckle at her words.
“No, I was not in jail”
“Did you kill somebody?”
“No, I did not kill anybody”
“So no crimes were committed?”
“Is that what you have all come up with? That I broke the law?” 
“Most of us, yes. Aitana think’s you were in the hospital because you were sick”
Her response came at the worst time possible. You spit your coffee out when you hear the midfielder’s suspicion. 
Technically she was right. You were in the hospital but you weren’t in the hospital.
“I wasn’t sick” 
“Clearly. Look at you, you’re huge. I mean you are big. No, you are strong”
“Calm down Mapi, I know what you mean. Thank you” 
The two of you stay in the cafe for another hour. You take this time just the two of you getting to know one another. You ask Mapi about her tattoos and she learn’s you have a few of your own which are hidden on your back. When she asks for their meaning you promise you will tell her the stories another time. 
You both walk to the metro station and by coincidence you end up of the same train. You get off before her and just before the door opens, Mapi grabs your hand.
“I’ll get them to stop. You don’t owe us an explanation, Y/N” 
“Thank you Maria” 
You’re not sure what the tattooed defender said but the whispers stopped or so you thought. They stopped whispering in front of you but little did you know the speculations were still going on behind your back. It is early in December when things come to a head and you snapped. 
“What do you mean she is staying Spain?” Alexia asked Salma. 
“That she is staying her in Barcelona. She said she might go to Valencia for a few days but that’s it” the forward wasn’t sure what to say or if she should have said anything at all.
“And you don’t think that is strange? This is woman who used to love England. The fans called her Queen of England, por dios. How can she be apart of this team if we know nothing about her. She is lying to us” Alexia ranted on and who knew how much longer she would have continued if not for Lucy interrupting her.
“Alexia, that is enough!” Lucy slams her fist on the locker before turning to her captain “She has come to this team and done nothing but good. She plays well for us and gives it her all on the pitch. Off it she makes the effort and yes sometimes she says no to things but isn’t that her right? You stand there as our captain but look at you, you’re nothing but a bully. I am ashamed to say i’m your team mate right now. That girl has been through hell these past couple of years and since coming here all you keep doing is reminding her of what has happened. You are obsessed with her. Look around, no one else is digging for information. No one is making her uncomfortable on a daily basis”
“She is lying to us. She won’t tell us where she was for over a year. She is hiding something and that isn’t fair on us” Alexia tried to defend her actions.
“Isn’t fair? Are you really that self centred? You have no right to talk about what is and is not fair. I don’t care if you are my captain, I won’t stand by you while you treat my best friend like she has done something wrong. You, Alexia, are a —“
“Lucy” The whole locker room turns upon hearing your voice “I have given up on Alexia, it’s time you do too”
“No! I won’t let her talk about you that way. You don’t deserve this”
“No I don’t but —“
“Y/N” Lucy begs you to let her fight you case.
“Walk away Lucy” 
A stare down takes place between you and Lucy. A few seconds later the defender grabs her stuff and leaves the room. To everyone else you are calm and collected but Keira recognises the look in your eye, you are furious.
“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good. My past is none of your business. To those who have let the obsession go, thank you. To those that haven’t” you look Alexia dead in the eye “I want nothing to do with you. I will remain civil on the pitch. Other than that I ask you to stay away from me. That’s if you can respect my wishes. I know it has been hard so far”
You quietly gather your things and try to ignore the multiple sets of eyes on you. With each second you can feel your chest getting tighter and you know it is only a matter second before you will no longer be able to control your breathing. You just needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes.
The hallway is the furthest you get. Your mind was filled of flashbacks, the moments that you tried so hard to bury. The past was not a pretty place, not the last year, but you know that it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down on you. 
“Y/N, are you ok?” Mapi and Ingrid are by your side, clearly the couple had left just after you.
“Natalia, she, she” 
Ingrid and Mapi shared a look, who was Natalia? They had never heard you mention a Natalia before. Both of them didn’t know what to do. Whilst you had become friends with the pair, they didn’t know you well enough to cope with this moment. 
Luckily for them Keira appears out of nowhere. The English woman clearly equipped with what to do.
“Get Lucy, now!” She whisper shouted and Ingrid goes running hoping to catch the defender before she leaves.
“Keira—Natalia”
“I know, I know. We can talk about her later if you want. Right now, I need to focus on me. Can you do that?” 
You nod your head as tears flow down your cheeks. 
“What happened?” Lucy rushes over to you.
“We found her on the floor. She kept talking about Natalia” 
“She told you?” Lucy asks shocked. She knew you wasn’t ready to tell them team but in a state of panic you might be let it slip.
“No. She only said her name” Mapi says. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. This wasn’t a panic attack, no she had seen one of those before. This was something much more intense.
A few minutes pass and Keira manages to keep your breathing under control but you’re still not ready to move. Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid stay close making sure to tell anyone who passes to keep moving.
“What is going on?” Alexia asks with concern, a concern that doesn’t reach Lucy in fact her asking is the worst thing she could have done.
“Get away from her” Lucy is up on her feet and pushing Alexia backwards. She would has fallen to the floor if not for the wall behind her “This is all your fault. You see this, you see her, this is what you have done to her”
“Lucy” you reach up and take her hand. The defender used her strength to pull you up. 
You, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid walk towards the exit of the stadium.
“Y/N” Alexia’s voice is soft and it is only now that she realises she might have taken things too far.
You turn around to face the Catalonian. For the first time since arriving you make no effort to hide the pain you have felt on a daily basis.
“I want nothing to do with you Alexia”
A week had passed and Alexia started to worry about you more so than she wanted to let on. Lucy and Keira were visibly worried about you and kept an eye on you at all times. She was confused at how things got this bad. Yes, she knew that maybe things had been taken too far but you didn’t show rage, your energy radiated nothing. You were numb. The Barcelona captain had no idea how to make things right with you.
You wore a smile on your face in front of the cameras and fans but behind closed doors it’s liked you switched your emotions off. Alexia asked Mapi about you but it seemed that even her closest friend was on your side. The zaragozian and her girlfriend had become close with you since the incident and Alexia didn’t understand why.
One night she found herself knocking on Mapi’s door hoping to find out how things got so bad.
When the captain was let in there is an evident scowl on Ingrid’s face which Alexia did not expect. The Norwegian excuses herself stating that she needed to go to the supermarket.
“Mentiroso” Alexia says to herself.
“Watch it Alexia. She has her reasons” Mapi jumped to her girlfriend’s defence.
Mapi leads Alexia over to the kitchen table and gets a glass of water for the two of them.
“You’re here about Y/N, aren’t you?” her captain nods “I don’t know what to tell you. What happened in the locker room was bad Ale. We didn’t leave the stadium when you thought we did. Y/N used everything in her to make sure Lucy didn’t do something she would regret. I don’t know what happened during those months but whatever we think it is, it’s so much worse. I shouldn’t be telling you this but she kept mentioning Natalia, I don’t know who that is but I think something happened to her”
Alexia thought she felt guilty about the way things went down with the two of you but that failed in comparison to how she was feeling now. To think that you were grieving someone and her questions were it worse for you, well it made her feel ashamed. 
She knew that she hadn’t been the most welcoming. Yes, you and her got a long on the pitch and yes, you were ok at training but she hadn’t made the effort she should have to make you feel at home in Barcelona.
“I don’t know how to fix it Mapi. You know I like her, I think she is amazing—“
“You were her biggest fan” the blonde teased
“But what if I’ve ruined any chance for being friends with her? What if what I’ve done is undoable?” Alexia ignores Mapi comment seen as though she knows she cannot deny it.
Mapi was at a loss for words. She always has had her friend’s back but there was something about you which made her want to protect you and Alexia was someone that you needed protection from.
“You need to give her space Alexia. This week alone I have seen you walk towards her then walk away at least 6 times. Y/N even asked me why you were doing it. You’re making the girl feel uncomfortable” 
Alexia mentally scolded herself for her behaviour which in her defence she did not think anyone noticed. 
“So space?” Alexia asks.
“Space” Mapi confirmed.
Alexia found it hard at first because she wanted nothing more than to make things right with you but she did as suggested, she gave you space. She saw you start to come out of your shell a bit more as December rolled on. The day game before the Christmas break you were playing in Madrid and that is when Alexia heard you discussing your winter plans with Keira.
“Keira, that’s a sweet offer but I’m sure. I’m going to stay in Barcelona, it is my home now”
The Catalonian took a little comfort in knowing you had grown the love her city despite the hostile behaviour.
“Y/N, it’s Christmas. She would want you to be home for that” your friend asked.
“I don’t know if I can handle going back for Christmas. It would hurt too much”
It felt wrong for Alexia to eavesdrop on your conversation so she leaves out of respect.
“She wouldn’t want you to avoid England. The two of you spent years in France and both of you said coming home to England was your favourite thing to do”
“Keira, stop. It was our favourite thing. There is no more our, no us. It’s just me”
Keira could see your hands shaking. This is the first sign of your panic attack so she drops the subject. She does suggest you going away with them for new years and you said you would as long as it isn’t in the UK or France. 
The team had one last recovery session before the winter break and it’s safe to say when it was done everyone was more than happy to go home. You wished everyone a Merry Christmas and without knowing it, Alexia is included.
“Feliz Navidad Alexia, por tu y tu familia” 
“Gracias Y/N” 
To Alexia this was a gift in itself. Maybe you were opening up to idea of forgiving her. After that you quickly grab your stuff and run off to where Ingrid was waiting for you.
After that interaction, Alexia couldn’t stop thinking about you. She also thought she was hallucinating when she saw your name appear on her phone screen. In the rush of leaving the training facility you picked up the wrong bag, only realising when got home a few hours later and your shirt had an 11 on instead of a 7. You texted Alexia asking if you could meet up to get your stuff back. Alexia, at that point was already at her mother’s house so she sent you that address and told her mum that you were coming over.
You tried to ease your nervous as you drove to your captain’s mother’s house. It was going to be awkward, this much you knew but regardless of the place you and Alexia were in, you wanted to make a good impression on her family. 
The knock was gentle as you stop on the door step.
“Y/N, hola. Adelante”
You didn’t know that word meant but you put two and two together and guessing in meant come in so that is what you did. Eli leads you to the living room after telling Alba to go get her sister. Eli headed back into the kitchen and left you in the living room. You didn’t want to take a seat, it wasn’t that kind of visit so you looked around and a wall of photos gains your attention.
Alexia couldn’t have been more than 7 years old. She was adorable. Next to her stood her younger sister and behind her, her parents. You didn’t recognise the man so you assume Alexia’s father works away a lot as you have never seen him at a game.
“That’s Jaume, Alexia and Alba’s father” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught stooping.
“And your husband” you turn to face the woman “I haven’t seen him around, does he work in a different city?”
“Jaume passed away a little over ten years ago” 
She is a widow, like you. That is the first thing you thought. In that moment you had so many questions for her but this is a woman you had only just met. It’s not exactly the small talk she would be expecting. The two of you go quiet and you guess she is thinking about her lost love, just as you are thinking about yours.
Alexia comes downstairs, your bag in hand but stops at the door was upon seeing you in conversation with her mother. Alba nudges her forward but she doesn’t move. The two of them watch you.
“Does it ever get easier?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.
The two sisters share a look. They had no idea what you were talking about and by their mother’s response, she didn’t either.
“Que?” As expected, the question catches Eli off guard.
“Living without the person who promised you forever” you turn to face the older woman with tears falling down your cheek.
“Oh Querida, come here” 
You feel comfort in her arms and for a brief few seconds you forget that she is a stranger. In this moment she is someone who understands your pain and that is more than enough for you. When you pull away you see Alexia and Alba, you feel extremely exposed.
“Hi. You must be Alba” you wipe the last of your tears and extend your hand towards the younger Putellas.
She swats away your hand and pulls you into a hug.
“So formal” Alba laughs “you’re even hotter in person” 
“Alba!” Both Eli and Alexia scold her.
“What? I’m being honest” 
“Thank you, I think. Is that mine?” You point the bad Alexia is holding.
“Yes. Sorry for the mix up” 
“No, no. It was my fault. I was running late for dinner with Ingrid. I left yours in the hall as I wasn’t sure where to put it”
Alexia stared at you almost as if frozen in place.
“Was I not suppose to do that? I can go get it for you”
“This is the most you’ve spoken to me since joining” Alexia was honest with what she was thinking.
“It must be the Christmas air” you laugh a little “speaking of, you three clearly have plans so I will leave you be” 
Eli tries to get you to stay but you can’t. The woman knew too much and even though shared the same pain, you knew it was only a matter of time before the pity eyes came. You also didn’t know how much the two sisters had heard.
Alexia asked and asked what the you and her mother were talking about but the woman refused to tell. The only answer Alexia got was to be careful with you and that not all is as it seems. It seemed to be enough for Alexia but she wasn’t giving up on you, not just yet.
She kept an eye on you over the Christmas break and just as you said you stayed in Barcelona. Alexia all but stalked your Instagram and even went as far as texting you some recommendations. You felt something towards the midfielder and it made you think that you might have been a little harsh on her. You made a mental reminder to speak to her once the break was over.
The first game back was away to Bilbao and it brought you the perfect opportunity to speak to Alexia as the two of you were roomed together. It was late by the time you got there so everyone went straight to their room. 
“Oh Y/N I don’t know what happened” Alexia says as she swiped the room key. 
“What are you — oh I see” 
There was only one bed, albeit a large double bed. 
You hadn’t shared a bed in almost a year and you wasn’t sure if you were ready for it. Now you had to find  a way to explain this to Alexia.
“I’ll sleep on the floor” Alexia suggests and even though you weren’t ready, you also knew you wasn’t going to let her do that.
“Alexia you are one of the most important players on the team. I cannot let you sleep on the floor. Take the bed, I’ll take the floor”
“Y/N, you are important too. You are our highest goal scorer. I am taking the floor, don’t argue with your captain”
She refused to take no for an answer and you hated it. When you came out the shower Alexia was on the floor and it looked awful. It was almost funny and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t say anything. Bed” Alexia laughed along with you.
The room was dark except from the street lights then peaked through the curtains. Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you and by the sounds of tossing and turning, Alexia was struggling too. 
“Alexia, come sleep in the bed” The thought of having someone sleep next to you wasn’t something you necessarily wanted but Alexia sleeping on the floor wasn’t fair.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable” 
There was something in her tone. She wasn’t talking about sharing the bed with a team mate, she was talking about sharing a bed in general. 
“She told you” Eli had to have told alexia about your conversation. 
“Who?” Alexia asked even though she knew you were talking about her mother. 
“Your mother. She told you about what I said”
“I asked but she didn’t tell me anything. I’m sorry that something happened to your friend” 
You sat up upon hearing her condolences. 
“My friend. What are you talking about?” 
Alexia, now sat up too, looked at you as if saying you know what I’m talking about.
“Natalia?” 
She said her name. Nobody had said her name. They knew it would cause too much pain. 
In that moment you are brought back to the last time someone said her name. It was the 5 November 2023 in a hospice not to far from your shared home in London. Natalia was the strongest woman you knew and no one would ever come close to her in your eyes. Yet just after Euros she told you that her time was coming, that the cancer was starting to win. You begged her to fight, you weren’t ready to lose her but you knew that you had been on borrowed time for many many years. The last person to say her name was a nurse as your wife took her final breath before she was called home.
“She was my wife” you could feel your nose twitch as a ball of emotion built in your throat. You knew the day was coming when you talked about her but you didn’t think it would come in Bilbao with Alexia now sitting at the foot of your bed.
The Catalonian knew she heard you correctly but she still sat in disbelief. She had no idea you were dating anyone let alone you were married. Alexia could do nothing but watch as you bury your head in your hand as your body racks with sobs. She wants to hug you, to hold you and to tell you to let it out but you weren’t that close. 
When you aggressively wipe your eyes you notice Alexia looking prettified and you cannot help but burst of into a fit of giggles.
“I’m going to go get Lucy or Keira or anyone else who isn’t me” your captain panics and makes a bee line for the door. She is stopped in her tracks as your hand grabs her wrist.
“You don’t have to”
She didn’t believe you and that was made obvious as her eyes dart back and forward between you and the door. 
“Isn’t this what you have been wanting? To know why I walked away” you pat the side of the bed next to you.
You saw the hesitation is Alexia’s eyes. In that moment she wanted to respect your boundaries and you appreciated that but for the first time in a while the thought of talking about Natalia didn’t make you feel like you would break. 
Once she sat down you turn to face you and you saw the look many people had given you. She felt sorry for you. 
“I didn’t know you were married” 
“Not many people did. We never hid anything. If you look you’ll see her in a lot of photos, she always supported me” you get comfy knowing that this is going to be a long conversation “I’m a private person and all I ever wanted to do was protect her” 
In that moment Alexia understood for she too was a private person. She knew that she was in the limelight but she still kept herself to herself off the pitch. 
“How did she—“ Alexia stopped talking as soon as she realised what she was about to ask “sorry, I shouldn’t have said that” 
“Leukemia” you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three “she first got it when she was six. We used to take the day off school to go to the hospital. She would call me her emotional support friend” you laugh as you remember the way she made you wear a badge “she won the battle only for it to come back when she was 16 then again at 28. The third battle was the hardest for her and it was the one she lost” 
Alexia caught the way you couldn’t look at her whilst you talked about the hardest times of your wife’s life. 
“She sounds like a strong woman” 
“Oh she was the strongest. She went through so much yet you never would have known it. Natalia had this heart that was big enough to like up the whole world. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her. She supported me in the youths teams, was in the stands when I made my Arsenal debut and moved to France with me when I signed for Lyon. She said she’s followed me everywhere because she knew I’d be lost with her” 
When Alexia sees you laughing, she joins in too. 
“Things got bad just before the euros. I was so close to withdrawing but she begged me to go. She wanted to see me lift that trophy and I did, I did it for her. I didn’t know how bad it was until afterwards and I made the decision to be by her side. We did all the things on her bucket list. A couple of months later she couldn’t fight it anymore. Her strength was gone and the light was barely there. I was able to be by her side as she took her last breath” 
Alexia didn’t stop you as you got off the bed and made your way towards the window. She could tell by the way your hand went straight to your face that you were crying. 
“You wanted to know why I walked about?” You turned to face her and in that moment, knowing what she did, Alexia felt guilty. Guilty for reminding you of the loss you had suffered. 
“I walked away because I didn’t feel like I had a purpose. For so many years I played for her. I scored to see a smile on her face and I won my trophies so that I can give her my medals. I couldn’t return to Lyon without her and it felt wrong being in England” 
“Y/N I’m —“
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. You didn’t kill her, the cancer did” 
You hated it when people told you they were sorry for your loss. Why? Why are they sorry? You heard it so many times that it made you numb. 
Alexia could tell that you were feeling a lot right now. She wanted to be there if you wanted to talk more about Natalia but she also knew the importance of changing the subject when it’s needed. 
“Can I ask you a question?” She looked at you with a sincere gaze.
“You can. Is it about Na—“ 
Alexia shakes her head.
“Why Barcelona?” 
It is a question that she had been desperate to know. You have now told her why you weren’t ready to go back to Lyon but plenty of teams would have offered you a contract if you announced your return.
“I said it wasn’t about her but turns out it was. Talia loved Spain and Barcelona was her favourite place. I honestly thought I would retire at Lyon but she always said that if she could pick a team I play for them she would choose Barcelona. When I decided to come back, it felt right to sign for Barcelona. Also, Lucy and Keira are here. As you have seen, I have depended on them quite a bit and I knew that it wouldn’t be easy so having someone who knew made everything easier”
You could see Alexia processing what you had told her. 
“I’m happy you don’t play for Lyon anymore”
“Yeah, you might be able to beat them now”
Alexia stared you down and you wondered what her next move would be. Turns out you didn’t have to wait long because a pillow soon smacked you in the face.
You both burst into laughter when the pillow fight turns competitive.
“We really should be getting some sleep” Alexia says as she stands.
You took a second to think. 
“You can sleep in the bed Alexia. I won’t freak out you know”
“Y/N I can’t. Not now”
“Oh stop. I’m not some fragile little doll that will break if she shares a bed with someone. Now get in bed” 
You pull the duvet back and pat the bed. It is only when Alexia gets in that you realise she is on your side and you are on Talia’s.
“You know this is my side of the bed” Alexia says as she gets comfy.
You had your reasons for sleeping on that side. You want to be closest to the door in case someone broke in. You wonder if Alexia has a reason.
“Got to make sure no one comes in and kidnaps you. Buenas noches Y/N” 
You fall asleep that night with ease. You no longer feel the weight of keeping your emotions at bay and having Alexia knowing the truth makes you feel at ease around her for the first time since you joined the club.
From that day on things were different between you and Alexia. You found yourself spending more time with her than you did with Lucy and Keira. The two of them found it strange but didn’t question it. Whilst the defender was still very much protective over you, she did see a change in her captain which lead to her giving her the benefit of the doubt. 
Life in Barcelona was finally what you imagined. Even in January the sun was shining and the sky was blue, unlike the weather you have been used to. The pain in your heart was still there but for the first time in a long whilst you felt happy or at least the closest thing to it that you could feel. Alexia has invited you to family dinner which happened after every other home game. Her mother and sister made you feel welcome. You had become rather close with Eli as she would often reach out to talk to you and check in with you. She didn’t need to say much, the fact that she could understand was more than enough. 
Alba was quite the character and there was never a dull moment with her. She would relentless tease her sister and it had you holding stomach with laughter.
You had received some calls that made you think about a few things. You thought about talking to Lucy and Keira about it but you knew their decision would be biased so you confided in Alexia one night as the two of you walked Nala along Barceloneta.  She helped you work though the feelings that the question brought up and by the the time you arrived back to your apartment, which you learnt was in the building opposite to hers, you knew what your decision would be. 
During the game against Atleti there was a certain Dutchwoman in attendance. It was the second to last game before the Nations league semi final, a game that England has got to by the skin of their teeth. Barcelona came away with a 2-0 win and a lot of the players stayed out on the pitch afterwards to greet the fans that came to support them.
Sarina stood near the locker room and praised the team as they entered. 
“Are you here for Lucy and Keira?” Aitana asked as she walked down the hall.
Behind her walked the two English women, along with Alexia. The latter knew to expect her, it made sense for her to come see you in person. The other two clearly had no idea that their national team coach was coming.
“She isn’t here for them” 
Alexia’s words cause Lucy and Keira’s heads to turn in surprise. 
“Y/N’s still out on the pitch. She is playing with Irene’s son Matteo, shall I go get her?”
“No, I can wait” 
Just as three of them were about to enter they hear your voice followed by a child’s laughter. You walked down the tunnel with Irene and her little boy. Sarina saw just how happy you were and for a brief moment she regretted coming. She questioned whether or not this is what is best for you.
“Gaffa” you saw the look on your team mates faces and chuckled. Surely they knew it was only a matter of time before Sarina came knocking “Let me get showered quickly and we will go” 
“But we’re going out tonight. It’s team night” Aitana sulked.
“I’ll meet you guys there” 
Alexia and you shared a look. She knew what this conversation was going to be about and she was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be and she was worried. You squeezed her shoulder and smiled before going into the locker room.
It was over 3 hours later that you finally enter the restaurant that the team were eating at. 
All heads turned to you as you walked through the door. The seat reserved for you happened to be next to Alexia which you don’t think was an accident. Lucy and Keira were sat opposite you and you see the look of suspense in their eyes. They hadn’t officially been told what you and Sarina were talking about but they had very good guesses. 
The rest of the team were having their own conversations and you didn’t want to make a scene so you nodded your head and that was enough confirmation for them.
“Yes!!” Lucy stood up suddenly and slammed her hands on the table.
“Holy fuck. Lucia, sit down”  
Lucy does as her told.
“Our captain is back” Keira said to herself. 
You tried your best to include yourself in the conversations around you but your mind kept wandering. You found yourself staring off into the distance. It is only when you feel a gentle hand on your thigh do you realise just how spaced out you were.
“Is everything ok? Did your coach say something because if she did then—“
“Stand down Ale” Alexia’s eye soften at the nickname. It wasn’t a new one for her but you had only just started calling her it and she loved it “I’m just thinking is all. What if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t have a place in that team anymore?” You lean into her and whisper.
“Y/N, they are your team. Yes you took some time away but you lead them for a long time and you told me they knew your reasons. It might take some time to get back into things but you will soon be back to how you were before. Besides if things go well for both of us then we will have a World Cup rematch on our hands and I want to see what might have happened if you played in the summer” 
Oh you didn’t think about that. You hadn’t given your upcoming opponents a second thought. Alexia was right. If England beat France then they will face Spain in the national league final. 
You thought there might be some awkwardness when you walked through the doors at the England camp but you couldn’t have been more wrong. Each player welcomed you with open arms and the players that you didn’t know as much treated you like everyone else did.
There were a few moments when you got pulled aside by Sarina for what she called her mental health checks. She promised that nothing said between you would be told to anyone else and you chose to believe her. You were honest about how heavy the shirt felt when it had the England badge on and you told her of the nerves you were feeling about playing for your country again.
Alexia had kept texting you to check in and for the most part you told her the truth. It was the day before the match when you got overwhelmed and instead of lying, you chose to ignore her. You knew it wasn’t fair but wanted to stay focused. You could bury your feelings for 24 hours. Alexia on the other had wasn’t going to give up on you.
“Alexia” Jenni nudged her friends leg “Earth to Alexia” 
The woman in question had her eyes glued to the her phone as you sent you yet another message.
“What do you want!” Alexia snaps.
“Hey, don’t snap at me. Who you texting? Is it a girl?” Jenni peaked over her shoulder.
“No” Alexia pulled her phone closer to her chest “It’s Y/N”
“Y/N Y/L/N is a girl last time I checked” Jenni couldn’t help but tease.
“She but I don’t like her like that, well I do. Wait! I don’t” Alexia slumps down in her seat  “Oh Jenni, I don’t know how I feel”
Jenni hasn’t seen her friend like this in a long while. Normally Alexia knows what wants and isn’t afraid to go for it. This though is different. It’s almost like she knows what she wants but she is hesitating and Alexia doesn’t hesitate.
“It’s ok not to know but something is clearly bothering you. What is it?” 
“She is ignoring me”
“Last time I saw you you told me she didn’t want anything to do with you”
So much had changed since then and she didn’t know how to explain it. In the end she told her everything she could without going into the finer details. Alexia confesses her feelings and explains that she cannot get a hold of you and that none on your team mates were answering either.
“Alexia, I may not know why she stopped playing football but I saw the way she played, she loves the sport. Her playing for England again is a big deal. Everyone is talking about her press conference she did this morning, it’s all over social media” 
Alexia wasn’t aware of a press conference. She never goes on social media the day before a match because it is quite often a distraction. Jenni picks up on her friend’s obliviousness and gives alexia her phone so she can see what is being said.
Jenni was right. You are everywhere. 
Y/N Y/L/N makes her return but what does it mean? Why now?
Sarina Weigman confirm Y/N is the captain of this team despite turning her back on them.
Beth Mead ruled out for Semi final, should be back for final if England are successful.
World Cup rematch? Y/N says that Spain wouldn’t have won if she was playing.
Alexia read headline after headline, article after article. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed so she couldn’t imagine what you must have been feeling. The last headline made the Catalonian laugh because she too had thought about what the outcome might have been if you were playing.
“I think the last one is a stretch” Jenni mumbles.
“We will never know” Alexia is ever more determined to get a hold of you. Just as she was about to call you again, a message comes through.
Hi. Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s been a lot. Thank you for checking in on me Alexia, I promise you I’m ok. Good luck in your match tomorrow.
“She’s ok” Alexia tells Jenni as if the forward was the one who was worried about you.
The next day you wake up and are ridden with nerves. It’s not a familiar feeling and you know that you need to calm down before the game or things will end badly. 
Despite protests from your team mates, you will start the game on the bench. It’s the right decision and you make sure to tell Sarina just that. Whilst the team’s recent performances have been spotty to say the least, you refuse to walk back in like nothing had changed. You know you need to earn your place on the pitch with the lionesses.
Spain’s game has an early kick off and finishes just after yours starts. The team get back to the hotel and have organised to watch it the hotel bar. Much to Alexia’s dismay she is called for Media seen as though Spain won and have qualified for the Olympics. 
When she finally joins the team she knows that the first half is over but that’s it.
“What’s the score?” She asks anyone who is listening.
“2–0” Ona says.
“That’s—“ Alexia is cut off before she can finish her sentence.
“To Germany” Jenni knows that Alexia would have wanted England to win if for no other reason than you “Y/N is going on for Toone” 
She cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips as your number goes on the subs board. 
The world watches as Mary runs over to you and gives you the band.
“Welcome back skipper” Mary pushes the band up your arm before you can stop her because she know’s that is what you’ll do. She was there in the captain’s meeting when you told Sarina that you didn’t deserve the captaincy.
“Game on, Maz” 
It felt right being on the pitch and wearing the three lions crest. You allow yourself to take in your return but only for a couple of seconds before you turn your attention to the game and the challenge that you face. 3 goals was a lot to ask for when Germany are playing as good as they are. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take everything you had but you never shied away from a challenge and you wasn’t about to start now.
After about ten minutes you found your rhythm and England were playing the type of football they are known for. It doesn’t take long for LJ to make a run and dance around the opposition. You have faith in her but follow her anyways in case she loses the ball. She doesn’t but Frohms does save her shot, she doesn’t save your rebound though.
“Get the ball” You shout to the Chelsea player. 
When the match restarts, the lionesses are on the hunt. Shot after shot is taken but somehow the ball stays out the net. England get a corner in the 80 minute and you’re lurking on the edge of the box, ready to make your run. Popp is the one marking you because she has studied you new way of play since joining Barcelona. Chloe’s corner is pin point and no amount of research in the world could stop you from getting the second goal and tying the game.
Alexia finds herself up on her feet with Ona and a couple of your team mates when you get your brace.
“Vamos Y/N” she says.
“You do realise that we will face them if they win” Misa reminds her.
“Right now, I don’t care. She deserves this and I’m celebrating my team mate” Alexia didn’t care if she might face you in the final.
“She told you” Aitana whispers as she pulls her captain down to the sofa “That is why she doesn’t hate you anymore and why you’ve stopped interrogating her”
Alexia does nothing but nod. Her fellow midfielder didn’t need to know anything else and she doesn’t ask for it either. She accepts that the reason must be valid if Alexia has dropped her questions.
There are 4 minutes announced of stoppage time. 
When you look up the the score board and see the number you get flashbacks on the euros final. You have been in this position before and came out victorious. Today was going to be no different. 
It was huge mistake by Germany when Gwinn takes down Hemp about a meter outside the box.
In the past you have found yourself stood over the ball with Beth but this game it’s Alex who stands beside you.
With her hand over her mouth she gives you strict instructions.
“You’re taking it” 
It’s not a question and you don’t argue.
“You have saved us tonight, now get your hattrick”
The amount of faith Alex had in you did wonders but it didn’t settle every nerve running through your body. Free kicks were your specialty, this wasn’t nothing new and the pressure was a familiar feeling. 
As soon as you strike the ball you know it’s going in. It’s a hard feeling to describe but many call it shooters instinct, it had never been wrong and it wasn’t now. The ball floated over the wall and went in the further part of the top corner. The shot was unsaveable. You ran over to the bench, more specifically to Sarina, to celebrate with the woman who gave you space and welcomed you back with open arms. 
“It’s like you never left”
Her words caught you off guard. For a brief moment you agreed with her but you got hit by the feeling of grief, you looked towards the family section and there was no one supporting you. Maybe some things hadn’t changed but a lot certainly has. When the full time whistle was blown your team mates ran towards you, all of the congratulating you on your performance and your first game back.
It was a weird kind of celebrations that night. The team was split, half wanted to celebrate getting through the final and the other half knew the job wasn’t done, they knew that the biggest task was yet to be faced. Spain had beaten them before and on the greatest stage, the UEFA national league final could either repeat history and England could rewrite it.
The team travelled to Madrid that night, only hours after the game. Upon arrival almost everyone went to their rooms but not you. You knew sleep wouldn’t come easy so you decided to wander the streets of Madrid. It had become a habit of yours, you would walk around and people watch. Every human had their own story to tell and it made you forget about yours.
You had no destination planned yet you found yourself stopping outside a hotel, the one you know from your text messages with Alexia, was the one the Spain team was staying at. 
A lot of feelings were running through you and you saw this as the universe’s sign that maybe you should talk about them. You have confided in Alexia since Sarina first reached out to you, she knew more than anyone how you really felt about returning and you talked about this very moment, the hours after your first game when the past is very much present in your mind. You remember the words she told you ‘when that happens you call me’ so that is what you do or at least that is what you go to do.
“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice say. You turn to see Jenni, Irene, Laia and Misa walking towards you.
“Hi guys” your voice is quiet, shy almost and you cannot help the way your eyes scan for Alexia knowing full well that these are the people she spends the most time with.
“What are you doing here?” Misa asks you. The two of you hadn’t formally been introduced but you had scored a brace against her in the El Classico.
“I’m—“ 
“Here for Alexia” Jenni says with a knowing look and you cannot help but feel like she knows something you don’t.
You can only nod. Apart from Irene, you didn’t know these girls very well and the version of yourself that you show to strangers is very different to the one that your friends see.
‘I can take you to her. We are roommates” Jenni seems sincere with her words but you feel a pang of jealousy. Everybody knew that the two of them used to date, it shouldn’t bother you, you had no right to be jealous yet that is exactly what you were feeling.
You think about it and Jenni can tell you are thinking about it.
“She hasn’t stopped talking about you and I know she will want to see you. She was your biggest fan when we watched the game” Jenni added hoping to create some sense of comfortability.
“She watched my game?” You asked in disbelief. You thought you had no one but maybe you did, maybe Alexia was the someone that was cheering you on but instead of the family area she was cheering you on from the hotel you were currently standing outside of.
“She did. I think she forgot she was Spanish for a minute” Irene says which causes you to laugh.
“I doubt that but I appreciate the support. You know I shouldn’t be talking to you, you guys are the enemy now” 
“Yet you came here for our captain, she will be your enemy too. Come on, I’ll take you to her. We wouldn’t want you to be spotted outside our hotel, just think of the optics” Jenni once again says.
“Ok” you nod your head a few times to solidify your answer.
The girls lead you through the hotel but only Jenni and Irene stay with you, Misa and Laia walk ahead. The longer you walk the more you begin wondering if this was a good idea. What if you are overstepping your boundaries. You had no right to be here and could easily be turned away at any point.
You enter the lounge area of the hotel which holds the majority of the Spanish national team yet your eyes search for only one. She see’s you before you see her and is walking over to you with a worried look on her face.
“Estas bien? What are you doing here?” Alexia’s arm rests on your shoulder.
“It was an accident. I was out for a walk and I ended up here” you explained.
“She was asking for you” Jenni says even though technically it wasn’t true. In her eyes she wanted to play matchmaker after it was made evidently clear that Alexia was hesitant to peruse things with you even though she had feelings for you.
“Is this true?” Alexia asks and you nod.
“We won, I returned, I scored, wore the armband and I didn’t have anyone is stands” you whispered so only she could hear you.
The look in your eyes changed. For the first time that night you showed your true emotions. Alexia didn’t need to hear anything else. She grabbed your hand and escorted you to the outdoor seating area. She sat down whilst your paced the patio.
“Y/N, come sit down” Alexia pats the seat next to her and you comply “Are you ok, really? What made you come here to me?”
“I’m not ok but I’m more ok than I thought I would be. It’s been quite a day, that game was —“
“Incredible. You changed the entire play” 
“It felt right. I belong on the pitch with the girls, I should never have left” You didn’t register that you felt guilty about your absence until you said the words out loud to Alexia.
“You needed to. You had to process your loss and you returned when you were ready”
Alexia was very understanding, you had to give her that. 
“That answers my first question but the second” the Catalonian didn’t want to push but there had to be a reason and until she heard the truth she was filled with worry. You had been walking the streets of Madrid, alone, at almost midnight.
“Why am I here?” You repeated it. Maybe you hoped that hearing the question again would help you figure out an answer, it did “I wanted to celebrate…….with you. I was surrounded by my team, people I consider family yet you were the one I wanted to call and tell about the game”
You dipped your head when you felt yourself getting emotional. You were suppose to be happy but with everything you were feeling you were overwhelmed. On top of what you were feeling you couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat twice as fast because Alexia was sat opposite you with her hand now resting on your thigh. 
When you looked up Alexia noticed the the tears in your eyes and was quick to wipe away one when it fell.
“I shouldn’t be feeling this way Alexia, it is wrong” you met her eye as you made your version of a confession.
“You can be happy about playing football again Y/N. Natalia would have wanted you to be”
“Don’t say her name, not now” you shook your head and Alexia’s hand fell back to its prior place on your thigh.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I can give you space if that what you need” the blonde stands, ready to leave you be but you grab her hand and pull her back down.
“I don’t want space and that is the problem. I wasn’t talking about the game Alexia. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about you” you shook your head in disbelief. You were sure that your shot of happiness died with your wife but you have developed feelings for Alexia and could no longer deny it.
“Y/N” Alexia cupped your face so that you would look at her but when you did, her hand didn’t move.
“Ale” you melted into her touch. That very touch gave you butterflies and you enjoyed the act of intimacy.
The two of you went silent but each of your thoughts were very loud. Alexia glanced at your lips, you knew what she was about to do and you didn’t stop her. Maybe you should have, maybe you should have pulled away but you didn’t. You didn’t move when her lips hovered centimetres from your own, you let her kiss you. You froze in the moment, like a deer in headlights. It was only when you closed your eyes did you realise what was happening. The kiss felt like you were cheating, it felt wrong yet felt so right.
“You shouldn’t have done that. We can’t do this. It was wrong” you pushed Alexia away and stood up hastily.
You stormed away before Alexia had the chance to speak. All eyes were on you as you walked through the sea of Spanish players. Their eyes went from you and then to Alexia who was running through, trying to catch up to you. She was hot on your heels until you turned to face her. She waited a couple of seconds before taking steps towards you.
“Stop” you say but she doesn’t “No!” you held you arm out to further imply your seriousness.
After that she can do nothing else but watch you walk away from her. Her hazel eyes stayed on you until you were out the lobby doors and onto the streets of the Spanish capital.
Alexia was frozen in place. She has ruined everything by rushing but she felt something when she touched you, she felt a spark and that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t feel the same thing she did. You told her that had feelings for her, you came all this way to see her. Those things meant something but maybe she had read it wrong, maybe it had all been in her head.
“Alexia, are you ok? You’re crying” Irene appeared in front of her. The woman in question was quick to wipe her eyes in hope that no one else would see her tears.
“I’m fine. It’s getting late, everyone should go to their rooms. We have a final to prepare for and we need to be at our best” Alexia walked away.
The two of you were very quiet in the upcoming days and were laser focused on the task at hand. Beat the opposing team and being the first even UEFA Nations League champions. Both of your team mates could tell something was wrong but they didn’t know what to do. Your team mates wasn’t aware of your late night adventures until Aitana texted Keira to ask if you were ok and told her that Alexia wasn’t after you showed up at their hotel. The English midfielder kept this to herself given that Lucy has only just got started talking to Alexia and there were a few players on the team who’s protectiveness could rival the defenders.
By the time the day of the final came around there was plenty of reason for concern but both teams knew that this is what you had been working towards. Yes, a trophy was on the line but it was the previous trophy that was the topic of conversation. 
The first time Alexia saw you was when they arrived for the pitch inspection. You were near the goal with LJ, it has become a new pre match routine for the two of you. Well you did it the game a couple of days ago and you won that so the two of you gravitated towards the goal today. 
Alexia wanted to go to you and that is what she was going to do until she felt a hand grab her wrist.
“Alexia” 
She turned to face Keira.
“Leave her be”
“I didn’t mean to upset her. We were talking about feelings and then I kissed her, I couldn’t help it. It felt right in the moment” Alexia couldn’t stop talking. It’s like was making a confession and Keira would be the one deciding whether or not it was a sin.
Meanwhile the English midfielder couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sure she had suspected something was going on between the two of you but she also had a strong sense that you wasn’t ready for anything knew. In her eyes you were still healing.
“You kissed her?” Keira whispered as not to bring attention to their conversation.
Alexia was about to explain further but Keira stopped her as she sure her other team mate coming towards them.
“Lucy is coming. I will talk to you about this later” 
It was as if Keira flipped a switch. Her look of concern was replaced with a smile and she even put on a fake laugh so Lucy wouldn’t arrive to an awkward silence. Soon enough it was a gathering of Barcelona players yet Alexia could stay focused on what her friends were saying for you were beginning to walk towards her.
In your eyes you wanted to talk to Alexia and you knew you needed to. The other night was a lot for you to process but you did owe her an explanation for leaving, that much you did know. She looked good as you watched her enter the pitch. You let your eyes linger in the most discreet way possible. 
“You and Putellas?” LJ asked you. She wasn’t aware of what happened, nor did she know you were married. In her eyes, you were hiding something and she wasn’t wrong.
“We are friends…..I think. It’s complicated” you admitted knowing that Lauren wouldn’t push you further.
“Uncomplicate it” she suggested.
“If only it was that easy. Let’s head in and get ready”
You felt the change in heartbeat again as you got closer to where Alexia was standing. Your head might have been all over the place but you heart was being very clear in what it wanted only you weren’t ready to admit it.
“Y/N” Alexia shouted to you as you walked past her.
“Hi” for whatever reason, you pulled her into a hug “Good luck today, you’re going to need it” 
You both started laughing at the quick change of energy.
“I don’t think it’s us that need luck. We beat you in the summer” Alexia was cocky but she wasn’t confident.
“You didn’t beat me though” you couldn’t help but smile at her.
Your smile was genuine and that is something Alexia took great hope in seeing. Maybe you weren’t mad at her, maybe you just needed a little space.
What you said next doubled that hope.
“Come find me after the game”
Then just as quick as the hope was there, it wasn’t.
“We need to talk”
Those 4 words struck fear in Alexia but she didn’t have the chance to say anything because you were already down the tunnel by the time she came to her senses.
Your was brought up several times in the Spanish locker room and each time all eyes fell to Alexia for she is the one that knew you most. She had learnt how you think, what plays you are going to make before you make them. In her team’s eyes she knew how to stop you. Only it wasn’t that easy. Alexia did knew how you play but that style changes when you are hungry, like you have a point to prove and this game brought both of those things.
“Stop focusing on Y/N! If you focus on how to stop her then you’ve already lost. Focus on stopping her from getting the ball” That is the last thing she said before heading out into the tunnel. 
The lionesses were waiting for her, she expected it. It was an intimidation tactic. You weren’t there and that was a surprise, she would have bet good money that you would be in the starting 11. Mary stood opposite her and smirked when she saw the look of bewilderment on the opposing players face. 
Alexia wanted to say something, she kept looking back at the team. If she was paying attention she would notice that there was only 10 players on the England side of the tunnel. With her eyes now facing forward she didn’t see you walking towards the front of the line. The sound of your cleats fell on deaf ears.
Her head shot to the side when she caught a glimpse of you standing next to her with the pendent in your hand.
“Capital Y/L/N, nice to see you back where you belong” Alexia covered her mouth, her being well aware that there were cameras on her.
You shake your head at her greeting.
“Captain Putellas. You’re going to wish I wasn’t” you had one last attempt to get in her head.
“No I won’t. Win or lose today, this is something the world, myself included, has been waiting for” 
You thought you would get a smart remark not a reply that was genuine.
“Alexia” 
“Y/N” 
Those were the last words spoken except from a good look after the coin toss.
You called a huddle before everyone got into place. This game was important, not only because of the trophy on the line but it was the lionesses chance at redemption. To prove that it was only one game.
“I want you all to do something for me. Play for right now, not for the past. You cannot change what happened in the summer, no matter how hard you try. Winning today won’t get you the star on the shirt but it can be the reset you guys have been wanting. That loss has been haunting you, I can see it by the look on your faces and I promise you here today that if you play with revenge in your hearts then you will fail. Yes, this is Spain but we are England. We don’t stay down, we get up and fight. We stand together as a team, a pride. We go out there and leave everything on the pitch” 
Each player is hooked on every word as you give Mary the signal. 
“England on three” 
You all come together one more time before getting in position.
Alexia tries to do the same by most of the team is watching you.
“She is going to make it hard” Olga tells her captain.
“She is going to make our lives hell for the next 90 minutes but that’s not to say we can’t give it back. Look at that star on your shirt, we got that by beating this team. Yes, Y/N wasn’t playing but she is one player. As good as she may be, we are better. You’ve seen what everyone is saying, they are calling our World Cup win a fluke, that we didn’t win but England lost. We may have qualified for the Olympics but our job is not done. We have a trophy to win. Vamos Espana” 
Just like England did, Spain come together before readying themselves for the game.
The game which starts in the worst possible way for the away team. It seems the your players might be a bit more nervous that they are letting on. Inside the first 15 minutes Salma gets through on goal and sends Spain up 1-0. It wasn’t ideal but it didn’t mean the game was over either. You were playing safe, as a way to get the most out of the team around you. When the first half is done with you haven’t take a single shot on goal. 
Spain entered the tunnel happy and England entered it less so.
The atmosphere was eerie in the locker room and you could see the self doubt radiating off your team mates.
Sarina takes the floor and explains all sorts of strategies but nobody is listening. They are in their own head.
“Do you mind?” You walk up to Sarina hoping to have a talk with your team. The coach happily steps aside.
“How many of you are thinking about the World Cup? Raise your hand” nobody does and you decide to call bullshit “You’re lying and I won’t have that. You are telling me none of you are out there thinking of the summer? the picture of them lifting the trophy that should have been yours?” 
One by one players begin lifting their hands.
“I can stand here and say I haven’t been good enough. I need to be better and I will be better. In 45 minutes we will be crowned champions. The question is are we going to do it in style or are we going to make it harder for ourselves? We know what we need to do and we will do it” 
You leave the locker room and go back out onto the pitch. You are the first one out there and you take a minute to look at the score board. 1-0. You hated to lose but more than that, you hated to let people down. You made the decision to come back and you didn’t do that to come second.  You returned to be a champion and to make Natalia proud, you wasn’t doing to let her down. You had spent the past couple of days trying not to think about her and maybe that was the problem. She was your greatest strength, your biggest supporter and she may be no longer with you, you may be beginning to move on but that doesn’t mean you have to forget about her. No, you need to play for her just as you always did.
The first ten minutes of the second half it was like a different team was on the pitch. England were pushing and pressing and Spain were struggling. In the 67 minute was when the game was made even once again. You and hempo were tiring out the defence and it made them vulnerable. On one counter attack they couldn’t keep up. Irene was the only player standing between you and Cata but she could see Hempo running up beside you. She found herself in a lose lose situation so she stuck with you in hopes that the pressure would work, it didn’t. You pull her in just enough to give hempo enough space. At the last minute you passed to your left and she fired the ball into the back of the net.
Game on.
Spain were beginning to tire and the one touch football that was known around the world began to work in favour of England. They were unable to play out from the back because you, Alessia, Hempo and LJ was pressing the defence. It was mind play and it was working. 
It was during a corner where things got interesting.
“Keep going!” You clapped your hands to rally the team “we are in their heads, now we end it” 
“You’re not in our heads” Alexia says as she chooses to mark you. It was a tactic they hadn’t done yet, so far Jenni had marked you.
“Just you saying that is proof that we are but feel free to prove me wrong” you had a minute to talk as the ref walk talking to Lucy and Irene.
“I will. Let’s make it interesting. You score right now and I’ll buy you a drink later”
“So that means I’ll be taking the trophy and your money? Oh you’re on” 
Alexia followed you are you walked around the box as you got into position. You would end up in one or two places; front post or in the middle. Never did she think you would make a run for the back post and swap positions will Lucy. The change caught Alexia out and when the ball hit the back of the neck she shook her head in defeat. 
She had played right into your hands. You had pulled her in with your words and left her hanging when you celebrated what would go on to be the winning goal of the game.
You had to take a moment when the game was over. Everyone was celebrating but you and Lucy made the effort to congratulate your club team mates of a game well played.
“Ay, Capi. You’re predictable you know that?” Lucy threw her arms around the Catalonian.
“Lucy!” You slapped her on the back of the head “What she meant to say is you guys played a good game and that we will see you in Paris”
“We’ll see them in Barcelona” Lucy tried to correct you.
“I mean on the pitch as opponents, idiot”  
Alexia was to focused on what the defender said first to hear the bickering that was now taking place between the two of you.
“What did she mean?” Alexia asked you.
Lucy gave you a look before leaving the two of you be.
“You once told me that in order to see yourself as the best, you had to beat the best. Tonight you wanted to beat me”
“No, I —“ 
“You did and that’s ok. I wanted to beat you too. It’s our competitive nature. That need you had allowed us a way in. I didn’t know it would come from a corner, only that in at least one part of the game you will stick to me just so you could say you got the upper hand”
“I should have dropped you off, let Irene pick you up and followed Lucy” Alexia understands the error she made.
“You should have but don’t beat yourself up about it. That wasn’t our first plan or second. Our plan was for Hempo to tire Ona out and for Lucy to get inside Olga’s head. Without those two things happening, we wouldn’t have got the corner in the way we did”
Alexia didn’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed that you read her and her team so well.
“You deserve the win today. Go celebrate with your team” 
“I will but remember you owe me a drink. I’ll text you the address of wherever we go. Invite the girls too”
Alexia watched you walk away but there was one more thing she wanted to tell you only she feared it would do more damage than good. In the end she bite the bullet and ran to you.
“Y/N” 
“Hi again” you laughed “Do you want another explanation of our strategy? We can always watch the game back when we in home in Barcelona” 
Home in Barcelona. There is something about the way you said it that made alexia feel warm and fuzzy inside.  She quickly shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and the overthinking that came with them.
“I just want to say that Natalia would have been proud of you today. Not just today but the other game too. I know it’s not my place to say that because I didn’t know her but you should know that. You—“ Alexia began rambling.
“Breathe. Thank you for saying that. I know she is looking down on me right now with a huge smile on her face and truth is if I think about her too much then I think I might cry so I don’t want to go into that right now. Thank you though” 
Alexia couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t have said that.
The ceremony went by in the blind of an eye. One minute you are waiting for Spain to collect their medals, the next you are raising the trophy with Mary. Back in the locker room you find yourself staring at the medal on your neck. Never in your professional career had one stayed on your neck for this long and never has the gold felt so heavy. It felt like it was weighing you down so you take it off and stuff it into your back. You would talk about that means with your therapist if you had one. 
Later on in the night you found yourself at the hotel bar with the rest of the team celebrating. You tried your best to be happy and part of you truly was but you life off the field was becoming more complicated and hard to ignore.
“Excuse me” you tell the group that included Leah, Georgia, Keira and Lucy. 
“Should we be concerned?” Georgia asks.
“Yes but let her have a moment. These past ten days have been a lot for her” Lucy tells her friend.
They watched as you paced back and forth on the balcony. To the English it was warm outside but there was still a chill in the air and you weren’t wearing a jacket. Keira kept looking at her watch asking herself how long is long enough before she goes out to you. 
Some of the Spanish team arrive about an hour after the lionesses. Some of them go to the bar, some go to friend but Alexia, well she only had one interest and she couldn’t it or more specifically couldn’t find you. Her eyes scanned the room one, twice and third time. She had her phone out ready to call just as she sees you. 
Leah catches her walking towards you and wants to stop her.
“What is she doing” The blonde asks defensively “Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with her”
The Arsenal player has heard about you bust up when Keira visiting England over Christmas. 
“Things are different now but I’m not sure this is the right thing to do. Alexia!” Keira shouts her club captain over.
“Hola. Congratulations again. You guys sure know how to party” she tried to be polite even though she had no interest in a conversation with anyone who wasn’t you.
“Thank you” Leah seems genuine “Were you going to see Y/N?” 
Alexia nods.
“That might not be the best idea right now. I think she needs a minute to herself. It’s been quite the day for her”
“I know. That’s why I want to talk to her” Alexia knew that you might be been struggling but to her that was all the more reason for her to talk to you.
“She won’t even wear her medal” Georgia adds earning her a shove. As far as the English players are aware, Alexia didn’t know anything.
“That isn’t surprising. Every tournament until this one she has given her medal to Natalia” Alexia says as if it is the most obvious thing but your friends didn’t put two and two together.
“Wait” Lucy says “She told you about her?” Again, Alexia nods.
“When? She hasn’t talked about her since she passed” the defender added.
“After Christmas” Alexia explains but goes no further.
“That’s why she went to you the other night but then you—“
“Keira, I won’t talk about that right now. I just want make sure she is ok and I can’t do that if I am being interrogated by you” 
With that Alexia leaves your friends speechless and makes her way towards the balcony.
As quietly as possible, Alexia slides the door open and closes it behind her. She didn’t want to startle you so she watched from a distance. Your face wasn’t puffy so you hadn’t been crying but your posture was stiff so you were stressed.
“They’ve spent the past hour burning holes in the back of my head from their staring yet you have come straight out” you turn to see Alexia resting against the door. 
“I owe you a drink and —” 
“And yet your hands are empty” you point to Alexia’s hand which as you stated aren’t holding a drink “You can come closer you know. I’m not going to blow”
“I know it’s just that—“
“The last time we were along I ran away crying” you laugh as you think back to that night. Things were going really well until they wasn’t.
“Are you going to let me finish a sentence or are you going to keep talking for me?”
You mumble an apology and signal for her to continue.
“Your friends know I know and I accidentally told keira we kissed” 
“Figures. She has been hovering” 
The two of you go quiet. It’s not awkward, it’s comfortable but even then it’s not what either of you wanted.
“You said we needed to talk” Alexia didn’t want to push things and you had told her this before the game.
“We do. What happened the other night it—“
“Shouldn’t have happened”
“Who is finishing the other’s sentences now” 
“Lo siento”
“As I was saying” you send her smirk so she knows she isn’t in trouble “The other night was very overwhelming for me, not because I didn’t like what happened but because I did. I told you that I had feelings and those feelings are for you Alexia. You make me feel things that I thought I’d never feel again. I promised my heart and love to her Alexia and to feel these things for someone else is like an act of betrayal. It feels wrong but I don’t want those feelings to stop. You kissed me and I knew it was going to happen yet I didn’t to stop it. I shouldn’t have ran away like that”
“It was a lot for you, I understand that” Alexia tried to reassure you that it was ok.
“It was but I should have stayed. You wanted to talk to me and I didn’t give you the opportunity. Just because I lost someone doesn’t mean that it’s only my feelings that matter. I’m sorry Alexia” 
Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Since you said the words ‘we need to talk’ she has been trying to think of all the things you could have said, an apology was not one of them.
“Can I say what I would have that night?” Alexia asks and you nods your head whilst closing the distance between you.
“Those feelings you talked about, I feel them too. Things changed between us after you told me and I couldn’t ignore it, trust me I tried. I was also aware of your loss and that this might not be something you are ready for so I talked to my mum one night. She is the only other person I know who has experienced the same loss you have. I told her that I had fallen for you and that I wanted to act on my feelings. You know what she told me? She told me that time heals all wounds but no amount of time is the same. If I wanted to prove to you that I truly liked you then I would need to take it slow so that is what I am willing to do. If you want to pursue this then we will take it slow, as slow as you need. You said it feels like an act of betrayal and I respect that. I won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for”
Alexia reached out for you and noticed once again tears were falling down your face.
“I have made you cry again. I shouldn’t have said anything. Y/N I am so sorry”
“Alexia, these aren’t sad tears” you reach for her hand  “I can’t promise you that this will be easy. When Natalia died she took a lot of my heart with her and I don’t know how much is left but I want to share what I have left with you. Please be patient with me Alexia because I don’t know how to do this again. For most of my life it has been her and I but now I get the chance at happiness again, with you. We can take this slow?”
“We will go as slow are you want. I have nothing but time for you Y/N”
Alexia knew what to say and for the first time in a long time you found yourself leaning forward. Just as you were about to kiss her she moves and kisses your cheek.
“Slowly Y/N” Alexia winked causing you to chuckle “How about we go for dinner when we return to Barcelona?“
“I would really like that”
“Me too. Now if I remember correctly I owe you a drink” Alexia holds the door open so that you both can rejoin the party.
“That does seem to be the case. Make it a double. It’s not every day you pull one over on La Reina to score the winning goal” you shoved her playfully.
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