#marta answers things

[whistlepen]

Wait I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since Outlander season 1 🤯🤯🤯🤯

i know, we’re Old! tenth anniversary in august 🥳 and it’s still just as good as when it started

[leojfitz]

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💌

💜💜💜

[lexiputellas]

She Said What?

You roll over dramatically, tossing your phone onto the bed like you’ve just discovered someone’s been murdered.

Alexia blinks up from where she’s curled beside you, clearly exhausted, face half-buried in your pillow.

“What now?” she mumbles.

You pause for maximum effect. “Patri and Pina broke up.”

Her eyes don’t even open. “No they didn’t.”

“They did.”

“Since when?”

You turn to face her fully, dead serious. “As of twenty-eight minutes ago. Patri just called me.”

Now she opens her eyes. “She called you?”

“She needed emotional support,” you whisper, like you’re revealing a state secret.

Alexia groans and throws an arm over her face. “Why are you like this.”

“I didn’t ask to be chosen. The tea finds me.”

Alexia moves her arm just enough to glare at you. “Please tell me you didn’t tell anyone else.”

You scoff. “Excuse me? Who do you think I am?”

“A liability.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your phone again. “She didn’t say not to tell you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She actually prefaced it with: ‘You’re with Alexia, right?’”

Alexia raises an eyebrow. “So technically...?”

“She gave me implied consent.”

“You’re the worst.”

You slide closer, tucking yourself into her side. “No. I’m the keeper of secrets. The high priestess of emotional chaos.”

Alexia sighs like she’s dating an actual live wire. “Do I need to confiscate your phone?”

“I didn’t tell anyone! Not Marta, not Aitana, no one”

“But the way you’re holding this information is terrifying.”

“I’m just respecting the drama.”

“You’re relishing the drama.”

You hum. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Just between us. A little private heartbreak to share.”

Alexia blinks. “That’s psychotic.”

You kiss her jaw. “You love it.”

“I love you. That’s different.”

“Same umbrella.”

She pulls you tighter against her. “No more telling me things after midnight.”

You pause.

“I mean it,” she adds.

Another pause.

You whisper, “But what if—”

“No.”

“—I find out who Pina might rebound with?”

Alexia covers your mouth. “I SWEAR.”

You grin under her hand, eyes twinkling. “It’s just us, amor. I promise. Cross my heart, kiss my girlfriend, never spill to Marta.”

“You’ve spilled to Marta about my dreams.”

“That was once.”

Alexia groans, dragging you down into the blankets with her. “I need a girlfriend who works in insurance and hates drama. Speaks in facts. Or doesn’t answer mystery calls at 11PM.”

“Too bad. You got me.”

“Unfortunately.”

You hum into her chest. “But you still haven’t asked how the breakup happened…”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I—”

“Pina said something about ‘never being chosen’—”

Alexia tightens her hold around your waist. “You’re banned from being emotionally available to anyone but me.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

In A Rich Woman's World

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You're good at throwing money at problems

"It was a charitable donation."

You know the minute those words leave your mouth that it's the wrong thing to say.

You can see the way Alexia bristles at the implication. You didn't even really mean it like that. Not in the way Alexia had interpreted it to mean.

"We're not a charity!" She hisses.

You wince. "I don't mean it like that," You say quickly," I just meant-"

"You can't just throw money at my club and expect everything to go smoothly!"

"Ale, darling-"

"No! You just can't!"

You stand fluidly, taking three short steps until you're eye to eye with your girlfriend. "This whole debt thing worries you," You say bluntly," Even though you won't say anything. You think that it's what's causing players to not come to Barcelona. I've changed that. Now there's no debt."

"You can't just-"

"Throw money, yes, yes, I know which is why there's also a contract and I've agreed to be a shirt sponsor. More money to spend for the club."

Alexia falls silent for a moment like she's trying to find something else to complain about before a finger jabs into your chest. "I'm not happy," She says," But that was sweet of you. Thank you."

You shrug. "Would it make you feel better if I bought you a present too?"

The slamming of the bedroom door is all the answer you need and you glance behind you at the puppy in a carry case.

"Sorry, Buddy," You say," I guess she just doesn't want to meet you yet."

Alexia manages to stay angry at you for all of ten minutes before she stomps out of your bedroom, grabs your hand and drags you back in.

But then Buddy barks and Alexia's back to being angry, kicking you out of the room and taking the new dog with her instead.

This time, you're left alone for half an hour before she comes out again.

"Are you still mad?"

"You can't throw anymore money at the club anymore," Alexia says bluntly, arms crossed over her chest in defiance," And everything you do with the club, goes through an official contract. Strictly business only."

You nod. "I can accept that."

"And the dog?" She grumbles," He's cute. Thank you."

You grin. "Of course, my love. You can take him to training. The breeder says he's going to need a lot of exercise."

"Excellent. You bought him. You can walk him."

You frown. "Wait...Hey-"

"You bought him," Alexia reminds you," So his needs are your responsibilities and I'll take his love."

"Babe-"

"That's my price."

You groan. "Fine, yeah. I'll walk the dog."

"Good."

So you do.

You pay off Barcelona's debts. You end up as a shirt sponsor for the team. You walk the dog - once in the morning before your meetings and once in the evening before dinner.

"Look at you." Marta jokingly whistles as you come walking down to tunnel towards the team. "Going for a business meeting?"

You're dressed in your usual black suit, tailored to fit your body perfectly right down to your shiny dress shoes. You wear little jewellery apart from a stupidly expensive watch on your wrist and a silver chain loosely around your neck.

Your hair is slicked back tightly with your usual 'don't you dare fuck me over' expression on your face that you usually wield in the meeting room.

"If only," You say wistfully, allowing the smallest of smiles to appear before wiping it from your face," Where's my fiancée? Still showering?"

"She'll be out soon," Marta assures you, patting you on the back before she turns," This is y/n. She's Alexia's fiancée. Y/n, these are some of the girls that have joined us from the B team."

"Nice to meet you," You say, head dipping in greeting politely before you straighten up again quickly.

"You're waiting for me here?" Alexia asks as she comes out of the locker room, pressing a soft kiss to your lips," I thought you were going to get the car?"

"The driver's waiting for us outside," You say, checking the time on your fancy watch," I was thinking we could go out for dinner. I got us a reservation at that seafood place you like after you scored."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "And how much is that costing us for such short notice?"

You grin. "Costing me, my love," You correct her," And nothing I can't afford. You only deserve the best, after all."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Happy Tuesday🐵.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Marta still insists she isn’t responsible for ordering the toner...” you shrug and sigh. You shake your head at the petty office argument. 

Before you can laugh, the guard calls time up. You blink, brought back to the present. Your account of the printer tirade seems even more silly now. 

Your eyes come into focus and you find Steve’s entirely on you. He might not admit it, but you suspect he is lonely. In some way. He’s all but confirmed that he doesn’t get any other visitors. It makes you think of Vaughn. How he must look forward to those days. They might not be the same but they both drew the same lot. 

You go to get up as the guard signals with a tap on his watch. 

“Wait,” he pulls away defiantly, keeping hold of the receiver. You keep yours by your ear. “Will you come back, sweetheart?” 

Your lips part. You’re surprised by the question. The man knows how to keep people off-balance. “What?” 

“You already gotta come all the way here for your brother so why not? I mean, if you really wanna thank me for saving his neck. I’m sure he’ll find a dozen other ways to get himself in a bind,” he shrugs. 

“Rogers,” the guard warns. 

You weigh the hint of a threat in his tone. You don’t think he’s serious but he’ll never say aloud the truth. He’s all by himself in there, even if he moves the rest of them like chess pieces. The urgency of the guard makes you sputter. 

“Sure, uh okay, I’ll try,” you say. 

“Alright,” he surrenders, a glimmer of disappointment, as if he expected more. “See ya next time, then.” 

He hangs up and the guard unhooks his cuffs from the loop. He stands, dwarfing his keeper easily, and follows him away. You’re grateful for the barrier for the first time. 

You get up and you’re led out yourself. What did you just do? You don’t have to see him again. Now you do. You made a promise and a man like that won’t take kindly to breaking it. Shoot. Why did you do this? He’s a criminal and you still have no idea what kind. 

Your heart clenches as you get to the counter and fill out your form. 

“If you really wanna thank me...” his words echo. 

You ask for another form. You don’t want to take the chance that you made things worse for Vaughn. The novelty will wear off. He’ll lose interest and hopefully, he also forgets about your brother. 

You sign the forms and pass them over. It’s a different guard. They don’t react as they read it over. They merely dismiss you as the pit deepens in your stomach. 

⛓️‍💥

You don’t tell Vaughn. If you do, he might be mad. Not just at you, but Steve. If he lashes out at someone like that, you might never see him again. That’s your worst fear. 

The thing about your brother is he might know exactly how things go, what to expect, but it doesn’t keep him from messing up. Even if Steve is watching him back, it wouldn’t stop him from feeling slighted and turning around and breaking his own spine.  

You can only imagine his reaction to your chatting with his fellow inmates. Vaughn only listens to what fits his own narrative. He wouldn’t hear you out, he’d just go off and get himself hurt. 

You attend your usual sibling commiseration. He’s looking better. You’re mostly quiet. You wait for any mention of Steve. Dread it even. He only tells you how the other guys are scared of him. You’re not so sure it’s him making them stay away. 

You say your usual good byes and love yous and you stay put. You wait. Steve appears sooner than the last time. He takes his seat and lifts the receiver. He’s just as stony as before. 

The glimmer in his eye has you reaching for the phone on your side. You gulp. You don’t know anything about him. Only the one thing that should’ve kept you away. He’s a criminal. 

“Hey,” you eke out. 

“Sweetheart,” he greets evenly. 

“It’s... your turn." You state shakily. He lifts a brow and he chuckles. You clear your throat. “I told you about me, now I wanna know about you.” 

“Oh?” He tweaks his head. 

“Look, I’m not going to keep talking to you if--” 

“You’re threatening me?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I just--” 

He laughs again, “oh, sweetheart, you’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you? You miss me already?” 

You frown, “don’t call me that. I didn’t come to be laughed at.” 

“Uh huh, so why did you come?” 

You don’t know how to answer. He knows. He wants to hear you say it. 

“We both know why. That brother of yours is reckless. I can barely keep him on a leash.” He looks you up and down, “does he know you’re here, huh? I don’t think so. Think if he did, he’s be at my cell door getting his neck broke.” 

“Hey, don’t--” 

“No, you don’t, sweetheart. Don’t tell me what to do. And calm down.” He waves away your distress. He glances over towards the guard then back to you. “You’re funny when you get all worked up but don’t go ruining this. For baby brother’s sake and yours.” 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you murmur softly. “Please.” 

He snickers and rests a hand on the desk, the other on the receiver. He pushes and leans back, his chest puffing out. “Fine, what do you wanna know? I have mess at eight with all the other bums in here and I do about two hundred pushups after dinner.” 

You rub your lips together. His gaze follows the movement. “How long have you been here?” You stare at him, gripping the phone for courage. 

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his lip and shifts the receiver in his hand. He crosses his other arm over his chest, gripping his large bicep. 

“Six years.” 

“How long do you have left?” You follow-up quickly. 

“Ah, is that it? You’re anxious to get rid of all this,” he eyes the glass. “That’s sweet--” 

“I just want to know,” you blurt out. Six years isn’t too much but fifteen or more says it all. 

“A long time. The rest of my life unless the board has a change of heart.” 

You watch him, waiting. For a crack, for a tell. He didn’t flinch at all as he tells you he’s stuck there forever. Whatever he did must be bad. 

“For what?” You breath, running your fingers up and down your throat. He watches the nervous gesture before he meets your eye.  

He prickles and sets his shoulders, “You really wanna know? You gotta do something for me first.” 

You blink, “just tell me.” 

“No, that’s not how it works. You do me a favour and I’ll tell you,” he retorts. 

“What? What could I possibly do for you?” 

“You add your number to my roll on your way out.” 

“My... number?” You echo. 

“Lot of time between visits. I get antsy. When I get antsy, I do stupid things. Start fights... so?” He leans forward. He knows he’s won. 

“Fine, you tell me and I’ll do it.” 

“Deal,” he points at you, his elbow on the table. “And don’t test me. I don’t like people who go back on their word. Not even sweet things like you.” 

“I said yes,” you sniff. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he smirks. “But what they say I did...” he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “murder. Court’s a joke, you know? Lawyers only steal your money. They’ll make more on the appeal. So they let me go down when the other guys say I killed my wife. The interviews for TV pay them better.” He snorts. “Far be it from me to go against the verdict. Especially in here. Better to let people thing I’m a stone-cold killer.” 

You chew on the answer, mulling it with his expression. You can’t tell if he’s lying. Does it matter? He’s still in this place and according to Vaughn, dangerous regardless. If he wasn’t before, he is now. 

“You believe me?” He asks. You don’t answer. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter either way. We got lots of time for you to figure it out.” 

A frown tugs at your lips, “yeah...” you rub your neck and once more he stares at the movement of your hand. He’s so stoic, you can’t read whether he’s bored or annoyed. 

“I’ve banked lots of phone time,” he swirls his fingers on the desk. “I look forward to our little chats. Be a nice after dinner treat, won’t it?” 

You bit down and twist the phone cord, “why do you want to talk to me?” 

“I’ve been in here six years with stinky men. A nice little bird like you singing to me, that’s something to wake up for. It'll make the time pass,” he says. “See, I’m being honest.” 

You nod and inhale slowly. You drag your hand off the desk and wipe your sweaty palm on your jeans. You’re too far in now. There’s not going back. 

⛓️‍💥

“...so this guy tells me it’s his turn at the bench but I just got on. He didn’t appreciate me testing his strength when I dropped the weight on his jaw,” Steve laughs as you chop celery, his voice crackling from the speaker of your phone. The prison lines are fuzzy at times. He stops and silence rises. You almost think the call cut off. “Why’re you so quiet, sweetheart?” 

“I’m just making dinner,” you answer. “Listening.” 

You don’t like his stories. They’re always violent and you can’t always tell when he’s telling the truth or just trying to scare you. Vaughn said he has other guys do his dirty work. 

“Oh? What are we having?” Steve asks. 

“Stuffed chicken breast with rice,” you reply as you pour the celery off the cutting board. 

“What’s wrong?” He intones. 

“Nothing,” you lie.” 

“What? You don’t seem impressed.” 

“Well, Steve, I’m not a very violent person. I guess I don’t see much to laugh at.” 

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was a bad boy.” 

“Steve,” you say. “I just... I don’t like to hear that stuff.” 

“Oh, you worried about me? I can take care of myself.” 

“It’s just not very nice,” you mutter. 

“Not nice? That’s how the yard works. I can’t help that. I don’t like it either but you gotta do that stuff. To survive.” He explains, “but Vaughn, well, we both know he’s no good with change. That’s why he needs someone like me--” 

“I asked you nicely not to mention him,” you say. “How much time do you have left?” 

“Couple minutes,” he drones. “Didn’t mean to get you worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up. I just... I worry.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart. Look, I’ve been here a while. Don’t you worry about me or the baby boy,” he drawls; you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Mm,” you hum. 

He mimics the noise, “you’re not amused? Sweetheart, tell me what you want to hear. How can I make you happy?” 

You cluck, “it’s just... I don’t like it... when you put on a front like that. I’m not an inmate. I... I’d rather you just be honest. I never liked men who can only talk about violence.” 

“Oh, and what kinda man do you like?” 

You look at the phone, “I don’t have a type. Not that it matters.” 

“I can be your type,” he purrs. 

You pause as you reach into the bag of bread. You’re taken aback by his statement. You shake your head. 

“Steve, I should get this in the oven.” 

“Right, time’s running out,” he exhales. “Well, good night sweetheart.” 

“Good night, Steve,” you say pointedly and reach to hang up with your knuckle. 

You sigh and tear up the bread. You can’t believe how far this has gone. He calls every night and you dread it every night. No matter what you do, he doesn’t let up. When you’re quiet, he makes you speak. When you’re curt, he makes you gentle. He demands it and you have no way to deny him. 

It’s hard at times to stomach. He can be patronizing when he wants to. When you don’t perform for him. He always mentions your brother at exactly the right time. To remind you of his power over you or to remind you of your own guilt for lying to your own family. 

Well, he has a whole life sentence ahead of him. He has to get bored eventually. Besides, Vaughn will be out in another two years on good behaviour. 

[rottenbologna]

Breaking the shell

Pairings ~ Fridolina Rolfö x Norwegian reader

Genre ~ fluff

Warnings ~ jealous frido, a bit of internal homophobia, any language besides English is Google translated

I decided to make a universe out of this fic

"Glare any harder, and I think our token Norwegians will burst into flames." Marta teased to which frido rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her watered down drink grimacing at the taste lightly.

"I'm not glaring," the Swede grumbled before returning her piercing gaze to where you sat laughing freely with ingrid, Caro, and some of the younger girls on the team.

Frido was glad you were much more comfortable with the team, and they learned you were quite the chatter box and indulged your yapping even with your broken English and the few Spanish words aitana had helped you mesmerised.

The problem came when you naturally gravitated towards ingrid, knowing you can have a conversation without having to think about the words you were trying to say or that she could relate to what was being said you took to the girl like a duck did to water and it rubbed the older woman the wrong way when most of your time was completely taking up with the younger girl.

She was the one who talked to you first. She was the one who made sure you were always comfortable, the one that made sure you stuck to your diet plan by making your meals and even drove you anywhere and everywhere you needed to go not ingrid so why did she feel like she was being repaid with crumbs of your time?

"What's the matter cause at this point I think ingrid can feel the chill from all the way over there." Marta asked ever the preseptive one. Frido sighed cause she didn't have an answer. She didn't know why she was bothered by sharing your attention. This has never happened with any of her other friends, so this was new and unfamiliar territory.

"I.. I don't know. It's nothing." She's muttered before looking over at your clearly drunk form trying to get you lengthy body to fit in ingrid's lap. Another thing they discovered was that you loved physical touch. Frido's shifted uncomfortably at the sight before her gaze shifted back to the watered-down whiskey in her glass.

"Wanna know what I think?" Marta smirked subtly before continuing. "I think you're a little jealous."

Frido tried to brush the comment off. There's no way she could be jealous. She was not jealous..just didn't like the thought of being left out. Yeah, that was it.

"The faster you accept it, the better Rolfö" Marta said teasingly before leaving to join their other teammates.

Frido rolled her eyes before focusing on your drunk self again, her nostrils flaring at you comfortably cuddled up to ingrid. She had enough and marched over, dragging your limp body to her side and leaving before her confused teammates and a smirking Marta could say anything.

°●°●°●°●°●°●°● ♤♧♡♤♧°●°●°●°●°●°●°

At training the next day, you sat with ingrid giggling and speaking among yourselves quietly, occasionally sending a soft smile frido's way across the room.

"Jealously is not a good look on you." Ingrid teased, smaking the blonde with her towel after they were done for the day.

"What are you talking about?" Frido rasied an eyebrow trying to play it cool like she was watching every interaction you had throughout the day.

Ingrid smirked, throwing the towel over her shoulder. "You like her."

Frido furrowed her brows before sighing in defeat. "Maybe."

The younger woman's smirk softened at that "she likes you two. You're all she yaps about. Besides, do i need to remind you im spoken for? she's all yours. Ingrid's smirk picks back up at the last part, causing frido to groan.

"I will say she has a nice ass tho." Ingrid teased running off when a piercing glare and an empty water bottle is thrown her way.

Frido went off to find you Icing your ankle from a rough tackle earlier in the recovery room and sat beside you without a word taking over the task of keeping the ice in place.

"You ok?" Y/n asked softly to which frido just hummed quietly.

There was a beat of silence, then you spoke. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I forgot you. With Ingrid, it’s just... it’s easy, because we’re from the same place. But with you? It’s different.”

Frido looked at you, brows raised. “Different how?”

You hesitated, then smiled shyly. “Like butterflies. And maybe that’s a little scary.”

Frido's heart thudded. “You’re not the only one who’s scared.”

You push the ice pack aside before sliding down the bed, trapping her between your legs before pressing your lips to hers. You both eventually pull away from air foreheads still connected.

"Wanna have dinner with me tonight?" Frido Asks slightly out of breath, her minty breath hitting your lips

"It's a date."

[onaswife]

Not so confident

Couple: Kika Nazareth x Reader

Au! omegaverse, alpha x omega

from this request:

You are a 21-year-old junior. You had traveled to Spain after applying for a scholarship to a renowned university to study one of your greatest passions: photography. Since you were little, you had begun to develop a love for the camera, capturing the important moments around you. When your parents gave you a camera for your 6th birthday, you knew that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life: capturing important moments, or the beautiful things you always managed to see when you went out.

At 13, when they used to ask you what you wanted to do at school, your classmates and sometimes your teachers would make fun of you, although you always thought they were the stupid ones for not wanting to follow what they really wanted but instead following what made the most money.

From police officers and soldiers to soccer players and singers were the most repeated answers in your classroom. When it was your turn to answer the question, a few seconds passed before the entire classroom erupted in mocking laughter. Some even whispered that you would starve to death while you simply ignored them. The passion for it was what ran through your veins; the mockery no longer hurt you.

At 17, you had managed to participate in an exhibition at a local gallery, where you were able to display some of the photographs you had captured throughout your life.

The following year, you applied to a university in Barcelona. You wanted to change your surroundings and see what new things you would discover. It had been three years since you made that important decision, and you were already stretched thin with the rent on your small apartment, not very habitable, but sufficient for the basics (sleeping, bathing).

It was a cozy place. In the afternoons, it was filled with students with their laptops, and in the mornings, it was usually adults or people who obviously worked in important companies. It was always like that, until one day someone you never thought you'd meet showed up in person. Two of the greatest players from the most important and famous local team: FC Barcelona.

It's not that you were entirely ignorant on those matters; you knew Barcelona was a place where soccer was lived and breathed, so you'd learned something from your coworkers and classmates, but it never occurred to you that you'd meet a world-class athlete.

You listened from your seat as Daniel took the order while you felt and listened to Alicent and Grace talking about how good they looked in person. From what you'd been able to hear, it was Alexia and Marta, both team captains, or well, that's what Grace had told you when you asked who they were (after scolding you and telling you you were completely ignorant).

"Your duty will be to deliver the order. I don't trust either of these two to approach them, understand, Guiri?" You looked at him silently, processing what he'd called you, then nodded. "I've been here for three years, and I speak Spanish and Catalan better than you, silly." Daniel laughed at your words and then walked past you, checking on the girls and giving them the order not to deliver anything.

Meanwhile, you started cleaning the counter, waiting for one of your friends to yell out that the order was ready, listening to the murmurs of the customers. You liked that moment; you could always see the different customers as a different world. You often started thinking and creating stories about what their lives could be like, how they got their scars, or what they did for work, what their homes were like. Grace often accompanied you during those breaks and gave you more ideas of what they would be like.

You were staring at a fixed point on the wall until you felt someone tugging at your apron. You quickly turned around to find your best friend, reaching for where the already-made order was placed. You sighed softly before whispering your thanks and going to deliver the order to the table.

You came out from behind the counter, walking calmly, holding two Americanos, a piece of cake, and a croissant. You arrived and, with a soft whisper, asking permission so as not to interrupt the conversation you were having, placed the food on the table. "Do you need anything else?" You stood up straight, waiting for an answer. "No, thank you very much." The one you recognized as Marta replied, "Okay, enjoy." She gave a small smile and returned to your place behind the counter.

"What did they say? Is it true they're prettier in person? What do you think of them?" You began to feel dizzy at the questions that kept coming from your friends and colleagues.

"Stop bothering the Guiri, you two lesbians thirsty for beautiful women." Daniel appeared ready to rescue you, while giving the girls little pushes. "There are more orders to make, go to work, that's what we're paid for." You thanked him and went to do your job as well.

The days had passed, and you were in the middle of a work break in the cafeteria (actually, you'd taken two days off to work on a university project). On Thursday afternoon, you left your apartment and headed to the cafeteria. You thought that by leaving your small apartment, you might have more ideas for the project, and what better place than there.

When you arrived, everything was calm, more so than usual, although it didn't seem strange to you. You sat at your self-proclaimed table, one that was in a small, quiet corner, not too close to the windows but not too far either. You liked that because it made you uncomfortable for people passing by to see you sitting there, but at the same time, you liked it because you could look outside without anyone looking back. The internet was also great there, so the editing software worked wonderfully, even though your laptop couldn't run many programs anymore due to the time you'd had it.

It had been two hours since you'd arrived at the cafeteria. Every now and then, Daniel or Pablo (another cafeteria worker, but on a different shift than yours) would come over to ask if you needed anything or offer you something to eat, which you always declined. You weren't hungry, and you didn't have much money to spend on such a treat. Less than 10 minutes earlier, Daniel had come over to ask if you wanted anything when, once again, you felt a burning gaze.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. Normally, when it happened like this, it was because some guy was trying to convince himself to approach you and buy you something, or sometimes, you assumed, it was because someone was lost in their thoughts while staring at you. This time, it wasn't like that.

When you turned around to see where and from whom the gaze you felt was coming from, you locked eyes with a very pretty brunette who was apparently accompanied by a tall blonde. You stood admiring her, almost as if you'd had a crush on this stranger. The girl looked at you again, this time being caught, and showing a cute blush as she gave you a shy smile. You, on the other hand, stood there doing nothing, your expression neutral as your heart raced, thinking of a thousand scenarios about why she kept looking at you and giving you those smiles that seemed harmless.

But they weren't; there was nothing harmless about them when they were capable of making your heart flutter so hard while you felt your cheeks heat up and it became harder to breathe normally, accompanied by that feeling so movie-like like butterflies in your stomach. Although this felt more like 500 elephants fighting inside your abdomen, trying to get out of there.

When you came to your senses again two minutes later, you no longer saw the brunette standing in front of the counter, causing you to quickly start searching the entire place, still trying not to look like a stalker. But when you didn't see it in the usual places that customers chose, you let out a resigned sigh as you turned your gaze back to the computer that was crying out for your attention so it could end the suffering of working.

You were about to continue working when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow sit down in front of you. You felt that excitement again, wondering if it was the brunette from a few minutes ago, but your disappointment was great when you saw Grace, a colleague and university colleague, as well as your best friend back in Spain, sit down in front of you, also taking out her laptop and starting to work after greeting you cheerfully. You only responded with a small nod.

And so it went for another 30 minutes, when someone stopped your exhaustive work (which consisted of choosing a photo, looking at it, rating it as the best one, only to realize it wasn't, then starting to search for a new one on your camera card, and then repeating the cycle again), you looked up, finding a tall, green-eyed blonde already looking at you with a warm smile.

"Sorry to bother you. You're obviously busy, but my friend thought you were pretty and wanted to know if she could have your number… I'm sorry if I'm the one asking, but she's being really shy, usually she's not" You felt your cheeks blush when you heard the blonde speak. You looked at Grace, hoping she would somehow help you, but when you turned to look at her, her mouth was slightly open, as were her eyes, and she seemed more in shock than you.

You decided to look away when the girl looked into your eyes, nervous to see what she would do or how she would react. You continued with your process of choosing a photo.

"If you don't want to, that's fine. I don't want to bother you either." Hearing her voice again, you reacted as you turned to look at her. "Sure, sure, I can." You sounded more desperate than you intended. You cleared your throat and spoke again with a smile. "Sure, no problem."

You looked for some paper to write on and a pencil that wrote well to begin writing your number. When you finished, you handed it to her, still with a stunned smile on your face.

"There's the number… and the name, you know." When you said the last thing, your voice trembled a little, but it seemed the other girl didn't notice. She simply gave you a small nod while murmuring a soft thank you and left for her table, where the brunette was already waiting for her.

Days passed, exactly 4 since you gave your number to a stranger for her friend, whom you fell in love with, and you were back at work without the stress of having to hand in some project the teacher had come up with to ruin his students' lives.

It was around 9 o'clock when, while you were helping Alicent place the orders, Daniel approached you two. "Y/N, I need you to help Grace deliver the orders. I'll stay behind to help Alicent finish." You turned around as you left the cloth you were previously using on the counter. "Sure, I'll let you know if anything happens or if you need anything."

You began placing the coffees and sides on a tray while looking at the receipts to see which table they were on so you wouldn't make a mistake when delivering. You politely greeted some customers, and with the regulars, you stayed a few more minutes to chat with them before leaving to continue delivering.

You were going for the last coffee, a simple order, coffee with a ham sandwich at table 9. You were distracted as you tried to avoid some small children who had come with their parents and also backpacks lying on the floor that could make you fall.

When you arrived, still looking at the floor and some kids apologizing for the mess, you left your coffee on the table while whispering a soft greeting, this time going unanswered.

You looked up and found the brunette from a few days ago, this time sitting alone at your favorite table, a tender blush covering her cheeks.

You saw her open her mouth, wanting to reply, only to close it again. It caused you a bit of amusement and tenderness; she looked like a fish opening and closing its mouth.

"If you need anything else, you can go to the counter or ask my colleague." You turned around and went back to helping Alicent or Daniel. As much as you wanted to stay and talk to the pretty stranger, if Daniel saw you, he might scold you, and that was the last thing you wanted at that moment.

Half an hour after that brief encounter, you saw her again, this time at the counter, as if she were looking for something or someone. It was Alicent who helped her, since Daniel was on the phone in his office. The moment her gaze met mine, she fell silent.

Seeing this, Alicent followed the brunette's gaze to where she was still staring, almost hypnotized, and found you, who also stood there, like an idiot, staring at her.

Alicent let out a small laugh, which brought you out of the small trance you were in. You moved, not knowing where you were as you heard the brunette talking to your companion again. Apparently, she wasn't Spanish or Catalan, but her accent still made it very clear that she wasn't a local.

You walked over to where the dessert samples were placed and began to place them where they were missing while you were lost in your thoughts, until you felt someone give you a push from behind you. It was Alicent, who was pointing behind you where the brunette was standing calmly waiting for your attention.

"Sorry, do you need anything?" You quickly approached, leaving Alicent behind to see if the girl needed anything.

"Hi… sorry to bother you, but my friend asked for your number a few days ago." You fell silent upon hearing that. Had the blonde made a mistake, or was she trying to play a joke on her? "I wish I could have asked you in person and not through other people." You let out the unintentional sigh you were holding as a smile slowly appeared on your face.

"Ummm… sure, I guess it was the best thing, or well, the ideal… sorry." Your voice trembled with nerves.

"Francisca, but my friends call me Kika. Nice to meet you." You saw her hand extended towards you and without hesitation, you took it in yours. It felt soft.

The visits to the cafe where you worked were becoming more frequent, sometimes with teammates like Ellie, Esme, Frido, Alexia, Aitana, or Ingrid. All her friends had noticed Kika's crush on the girl who usually served them, so they always made more orders when she delivered their coffees. Sometimes they ordered things they wouldn't even eat, just to see Kika being a nervous mess who couldn't utter a word, which was unusual for someone like Kika, who couldn't stay quiet for more than two minutes.

"Y/N, nice to meet you too."

It had been at least five months since Kika met you and started hanging around where you worked, and also since you started writing to each other.

Kika was everything you wanted in an alpha: she was sensitive and affectionate, and she always seemed like the kindest and most tender person to you.

And Kika, well, she was falling more in love with you every day. She'd been trying one week to ask you out to dinner or a date, but every time she was about to ask you, she'd get cold feet and ask something she'd come up with in a moment of nerves.

The first time, she was actually willing to pop the question. She kept telling herself it wasn't something to be so nervous about, it wasn't like she was asking you to marry her or anything like that. It was just a simple date so she could get to know you better and see you for more than the 20 minutes she spent in the cafeteria.

She ordered the same thing as always while she sat down at her usual table, which over time had become her favorite. Hilariously, it was your favorite table, and even more hilarious, you both liked it for the same reason.

I waited about five minutes before Grace approached to ask her (mostly out of habit of serving the customers who always came to sit down), but when she saw who it was, she simply greeted her, turned around, and returned to her place at the bar while giving Alicent her order. While you were waiting on a table not far from where Kika was sitting, you were looking for her with your eyes.

Kika kept repeating the same words she'd been saying to herself since she woke up that day. It was normal to ask someone out. She always asked girls if they wanted to go out with her to walk the streets of Barcelona, ​​but they weren't you; they were friends, and she felt a sisterly affection for them. However, things were still a little confusing regarding you. Every time you spoke, Kika felt her heart beat faster, almost as if she were training or playing a 90-minute game, and she'd dare say even faster. She always wanted to be present in your day. And of course, every day, every minute that passed, Kika continued to fall in love with you, with how you told her about a class you had that day, with the photos you'd taken—that was something that made her fall even more in love.

So yes, it was more difficult to ask you out, because unlike the other girls, she didn't feel that need to be your chosen alpha. To be your partner.

When she saw you minutes after finishing her coffee at the bar, she bravely approached you to talk to you and finally pop the question, but she regretted it halfway through when she saw you talking happily with a boy, the same one you had been serving when she arrived.

Many thoughts flooded the alpha's mind when she saw you in that situation, so she decided that this wouldn't be the day to ask you out. And maybe it could be the day to ask if you had a partner or not.

The second time was two days after that brief moment of doubt about whether you were single or not. The answer to the question felt like it had won the World Cup for Kika; she screamed, jumped, and ran all over her apartment celebrating your refusal.

That day was in the afternoon. She knew from your words that you had switched shifts that day because you had to do some university paperwork and hand in some work, so she arrived fully motivated to talk to you.

Already feeling like she owned the place from so much going on there, she sat down in her seat and waited patiently for you to uncover some clients. When you fixed your gaze on the new customer who had arrived and realized it was Kika, a big smile spread across your face, and you waved to her, which Kika waved back.

When you were free, you walked quickly, almost anxiously, to her table, already with her coffee ready. You placed it on the table in front of her and sat down facing her.

"How was your day today? How was training? How many goals did you score, huh?" Your smile never left your face. Every time something related to Kika was involved, it was inevitable that your face would be smiling and pink.

Kika couldn't think of anything else but how soft your hand felt on hers. "Yeah… sure… really hot, yeah." Her words came out as whispers, and she couldn't form coherent sentences as she felt your touch, even if it was just like that.

"It was good. It's so hot. I don't think I've gotten used to all the heat in Barcelona yet," you laughed. You understood perfectly what she meant. When you first arrived, you had a lot of problems with the heat and also heat strokes. You couldn't imagine how bad Kika was having it being a professional athlete.

"I totally understand. To be honest, it wasn't until my second year that I was able to get used to the hellish heat here. Now it's more bearable. Poor you." You reached out your hand until you placed it on Kika's hand resting on the table, pouting slightly as you finished speaking.

"What else did you do today?" You were going to ask her about her day again, but unfortunately for both of you, the little bell above the entrance door rang, signaling that there were new customers. You quickly apologized to Kika and returned to your spot behind the bar.

Kika sighed when she stopped feeling your hand, and almost defeatedly, she lowered her head. She felt like she was going to cry from the embarrassment of not being able to form a coherent sentence when she spoke to you face to face.

She slowly got up from her seat and left the money on the table, leaving after watching you fill up with new customers. She didn't want to look at your face because of the embarrassment she felt. She told herself she wanted to be her normal self and show you that she was a worthy alpha, an alpha who served, not an alpha who couldn't speak because of nerves. But when she saw that smile that lit up your face like a giant lantern, she gave up on all those thoughts.

This time, it took her four days to plan how to ask you out. She had to ask Ellie to pretend to be you to practice what to say. It must be said that Ellie still makes fun of it, even though she secretly found it very sweet on Kika's part.

Now Kika was returning home with two problems: the first was practicing how to properly ask you out, and the second was dealing with the erection that was starting to grow in her pants when she saw you bending over to clean a table.

She talked to all the alphas she thought might be able to help her. It started with Alexia, then Irene, Marta, Caro, and even close friends. Everyone agreed that she had to be authentic, put aside the nerves they'd all felt at the time, and be honest with the person she wanted to ask out. That day she went with renewed spirits and a single mission: to leave that cafeteria with a date with the beautiful omega she'd fallen in love with.

She arrived earlier that day, sat at her table, and waited. 10 minutes passed, and she waited. 20 minutes passed, and she continued waiting, until her phone rang with a notification.

"Sorry I didn't let you know. Maybe you're not interested, but I won't be going to work today. I asked for the day off to rest a little since I'm feeling ill. xo"

Kika sighed, a long sigh as she thought about what she could do. She had less than 15 minutes left to leave for the Johan Cruyff, where she had a match today. She'd have to be late.

With that idea in mind, she got up and walked straight to her car. Before she even left the cafeteria, she was stopped by Ingrid and Mapi, who were just entering. That day, she couldn't make it, or at least not Kika.

The game was against Valencia, and you were excited, accompanied by Grace and David, another of your friends from university. They had both convinced you to go see a Barcelona game, and to be honest, you really wanted to see Kika play.

You went to a mall and found a jersey store. The guys said it was a cheaper option than going to the club's official store, so you bought it there. You had the number 18 on the back and Kika's name.

You got up early and did everything you had to do. By 10 a.m., you were already free, so you told your friends to get together. You had to buy a jersey to support the team, although you weren't sure if you'd have enough money to buy it.

Unconsciously, she was already leaving her mark you.

You were carrying a backpack with a jacket in case it got too cold, your cards, and a poster. You were going to ask the boys for help, but for fear of being made fun of, you only asked Grace for help. It was a question you'd been wanting to ask her for a long time, but you'd been too afraid to ask. You'd seen many times how Kika seemed to want to tell you something, but she never did.

Thirty minutes before the game started, you entered the stadium. You'd always heard about the team; it was impossible not to, but watching it, experiencing it, seeing so many people turn out to watch them made you feel so excited.

You saw Kika come out to warm up; from what David told you, Kika would be a starter. You didn't even listen to him or pay attention anymore; you were so focused on watching Kika socialize with her teammates and hearing so many people chanting her name made your chest swell with pride, so much so that it could explode.

The match started off pretty well until the 15th minute, when a small defensive error led to a goal. From what you could see on the big screen, it was scored by the other team's number 7. You turned your gaze to where Kika was talking to the rest of the team, cheering them on.

0-1, 15th minute.

Three minutes later, a goal was scored for Barcelona. You celebrated with the kids, while everyone chanted Alexia's name. You couldn't help but do the same, following the crowd's behavior. You cheered Alexia's name, watching Kika hug her and look so happy. When the ball rolled back onto the field, you sat back down while taking a sip of water, your throat beginning to feel dry. The following minutes were completely in Barcelona's favor. They had good control of the ball and had created several good scoring opportunities, and the ball had rarely dropped so far back as to touch their own half.

1-1, minute 18.

The game started in the 21st minute with a ball from number 5 (you hadn't learned all their names yet, so you were guided by their numbers on their backs). A direct pass to the tall girl wearing number 2 followed by a short pass to Ingrid, number 23, who took the ball and crossed halfway across the field, giving a through ball to Frido, the blonde girl who had asked for your number for Kika and who also frequented the cafeteria with her partner. She made a center pass to number 11, whom you recognized as Alexia, and she gave a through ball straight to the penalty spot, where Kika appeared and finished the play with a beautiful goal.

Watching Kika receive the ball, you couldn't help but stand up, nervously biting your nail, eagerly waiting to see how it would end. When you saw it was a goal, you started screaming and jumping while celebrating with the other fans. You turned to see Grace, and she was just as euphoric as you. The two of you hugged each other while continuing to jump.

2-1 in the 22nd minute.

"God, girl, I love your girl for showing up at the right moment and giving us the lead!" David was the one who shouted close to your ear so you could hear clearly over all the noise.

The first half ended without any more scoring chances. Both teams were already looking a little tired, but eager to keep going and finish the game with a win.

In the 62nd minute, you saw the big screen show that Kika would be substituted and Pina would be brought onto the field. You saw her happily wave to her other teammates on the bench.

You continued watching the game, reacting to each opportunity. When you saw number 17 find the ball and look at the goal, you knew it would end in a goal. According to the statistics provided by David and Grace, Ewa, number 17, was becoming the team's top scorer.

3-1, minute 66.

The goal started with Ewa recovering the ball, then she turned and shot straight at goal, scoring a magnificent goal that the entire crowd began to celebrate.

The match ended 4-1, with the fourth goal scored by Frido and Aitana, also great players.

When you saw the players shake hands and begin to interact with the crowd, you quickly walked over and took out of your backpack the poster you and your friend had made a few days ago. You stood proudly near where Kika was taking pictures with fans, responding to them, joking, and happily signing shirts.

The moment her gaze met yours, you saw her almost drop the marker she was holding and her mouth slightly opened, then she formed a big smile. She looked down at the poster you were holding and felt her brain begin to short-circuit.

"Kikinha, do you want me to get a coffee? Or a date?"

It was an understatement to say that Kika wasn't expecting any of this, not even your presence in the stands, much less the poster. She kept thinking you were sick at your apartment and that she should stop by a pharmacy to check on you.

She hurried over to you, feeling her heart pounding and her hands sweating and shaking.

"I thought you'd be at your apartment… I thought you were sick." You leaned over the protective grille. "It was a white lie. I couldn't tell you the surprise. I would have ruined it." Kika smiled as she shook her head and reread the sign. She really wanted to keep reading it to see if it was true or a product of her imagination. "By the way… whose shirt are you wearing? As I remember, you said you didn't know anything about soccer." You both turned around when you heard a girl calling her to sign her shirt.

"I don't care who's shirt you're using, but I don't like it."

You gasped when you saw her take off her shirt and climb onto some chairs so she could be closer to your eye level. She held out her hand, holding the shirt, waiting for you to take it. As soon as you did, she grabbed your hand and gently pulled you closer to her, her face very close to yours.

"This time, I'm not going to hold back." She closed the distance and gave you a kiss, a simple lip-lock as she brought her free hand to your cheek. When you separated, you both blushed as you felt everyone around you looking at you. "Is that… yes to the coffee or the date?" you asked timidly, clearing your throat.

"It's a yes, to everything you want today, tomorrow, and in the future."

Hearing her words, you became excited and firmly grabbed her face to kiss her again. This time, it wasn't a simple lip-lock; you kissed her properly, but in a way that was acceptable for the place you were in.

"Now you have one of my shirts, occupied by me." Her voice sounded a little possessive as she hugged you.

"The shirt I'm wearing is yours. I bought it in the mall before I came," you said from your place near her neck.

"Now you have a new and better one. If you need another one, just say it and I'll give it to you." You laughed as you pulled away from her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Go finish your work. See you later. I love you."

Kika smiled at you, feeling a strange shyness creep through her bones. She blushed, and while looking directly into your eyes, she answered.

"I love you too. The date is a done deal."

Sorry if it's too long, but I had a lot of ideas and I tried to make them all fit together.

Thanks for reading!

Bon dia, Bona tarda, Bona nit.

-Onaswife

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite part of you (physically)…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

tw: some nsfw (mainly Art - who’s surprised)

Michael

Your face and your waist/stomach; Michael likes being able to read your every micro expression and communicate without your words as well as his own (something about him not needing any words to understand you is satisfying to him - instinct responding to instinct), often rests his head on your stomach when cuddling regardless of whether his mask is on or not, and is usually holding your waist when getting freaky with you. Likes being able to pick you up by your waist and just place you down wherever he feels inclined to, that sense of control.

Pinhead

Impossible to answer. If you ask Pinhead this question and insist he answers, he will pace back and forth before disappearing through a portal to Hell, incapable of dissecting what he believes to be the masterpiece that is your body in favour of choosing one specific part of it over the rest as his favourite. Will literally debate it in another realm for 100 years before returning to you (where approximately 3 minutes have passed in our time) to tell you he has made a choice: your heart. You roll your eyes and tell him that doesn’t count, but he already has the perfect answer prepped because he knew you’d query his response:

“Your heart is what powers the rest of you, my dear. Without your heart, you would be an empty vessel. A beautiful one, but empty. Your body is most beautiful, living, and it is your heart that ensures such a state of being. For that, your heart is my favourite part of tour body.”

Brahms

Will sulk in the walls and refuse to talk to you if you ask him to pick a part of your body and I’m so serious; he literally adores you. When you explain that he can give different answers for different reasons (such as sexually/romantically/what part of you he’s most innocently attracted to) he’s more inclined to think about it. At that point, he’s happy because he can give more than one answer - that’s more fair, Brahms thinks. So, romantically he would say your lips. Innocent attraction, he would say your eyes. Sexually?

“…Every part of you I’ve been inside.”

Art

Easiest question you’ve ever asked him. His answer is one simple gesture: 👌🏻

It’s your hole. Any hole you’ve got. That’s his favourite part. If there’s one thing Art loves more than anything else, it’s playing with something dark, wet and warm that he can stuff fingers or…other things into.

If you asked him for a more in-depth answer that sounded slightly less like you’re his own personal fleshlight, Art would pause, then go: 👉🏻😃👈🏻

Your smile, because he likes seeing you happy. He’s not exactly a romantic, but he is very playful.

Sun and Moon

Surprisingly, both Sun and Moon are in agreement that your face is their favourite part of your body, but it is for very different reasons; Sun likes holding your face, cupping your cheeks, tracing your cheekbones with mechanical thumbs; Moon likes your face because yours is the only face that gives Moon kisses. They are also both capable of reading your expressions incredibly well (they have images of your every microexpression stored as vitally important information in their systems), and they treasure doing things just to see the reaction on your face. Backflips, magic trucks - anything to see your eyes light up.

Marta

Your womb - okay, hear me out on this one, because before you jump to conclusions I’m not suggesting anything relating to hardcore fisting. Marta’s favourite place to touch you is your lower abdomen, her fingers splaying over where your womb rests in a protective gesture. To her, that is the purest part of you, that she protects from the foul seed of men. It is a sacred place in which God plants children, but your path of purity (lesbianism x) renders it an unspoilt treasure. It is rare Marta would kneel before you, but whenever she does, it is usually to place a kiss over the skin of your tummy, where your womb resides.

[disneyprincemuke]

ice man * femdriver

(series masterlist) | (📂 a day in the life)

sebastian grins, turning his gaze away from the man jabbing his finger into the table. he rests his eyes on her, lips parted as she attentively tries and takes in all the information unloaded on her.

“wait,” she raises her hand slightly. “am i allowed to curse on tv?”

kimi turns to sebastian with a stare. “they brainwashed her already. not much we can do.”

“no,” sebastian mutters, patting his friend on the shoulder. “she will listen to you. she listens to anyone who’s been in formula 1.”

kimi turns back to her, already nodding with a small excited smile on her face. “he’s right — i am very impressionable at my big age,” she says. “i didn’t know i can curse on tv.”

“it’s frowned upon,” kimi points out with a small smile. he is holding back laughter from her wide eyes and enthusiasm. “but nobody ever said you can’t do it.”

“oh. can i walk away from interviewers?” she tilts her head, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks. “they can get a tad misogynistic at times.”

“why walk away?” kimi laughs, leaning back in his seat. “ask them to fuck off.”

worry flashes on her face. “that’s a bit mean.”

“they’re looking down on you for being a woman and you think asking them to fuck off is mean?” kimi raises an eyebrow. her eyes dart up to meet his, her eyebrows shooting up as she processes his words. “exactly.”

“i didn’t know i could do that,” she whispers. “but isn’t that a bit much for now? they already are not very fond of my presence in the sport.”

kimi shakes his head, closing his eyes as he disapproves her worries. “who is getting paid to drive cars and travel to countries with all expenses paid?”

“me?”

“correct answer.” kimi sighs. “so why care about what other people have to say?”

“i,” she trails off, “i have this thing.”

“you just go around thinking about other people’s feelings all the time?” kimi raises an eyebrow. “how do you get anything done?”

“it’s hard,” she admits in a cry, throwing her arms in the air and slumping her shoulders. she clears her throat and sits up. “but you’re right. you’re right! i’m getting paid to be here! this is my job! i should be able to react how i see fit if someone is being mean to me!”

kimi claps. “yes! exactly! defend yourself if you need to.”

she hums, pursing her lips to one side. “question: if i crash-“

“try your best not to crash.”

“obviously, seb. my question is: if i crash, can i also walk away to get ice cream? like you did in malaysia?”

he folds his arms over his chest. “apparently you cannot do that anymore. i’m sorry, kid.”

“outrageous,” she scoffs, shaking her head. she presses her lips together and perks up again. “can i meet your ice baby?”

kimi turns to sebastian. “what does she mean?”

“your baby,” sebastian laughs, hearing you talk about how cute kimi’s child is. “she is very good with kids.”

kimi looks at her, smile wavering as he points at her. “you want my advice, kid?”

“of course!”

“don’t have kids.”

she smiles, gesturing to the room around her. “i wouldn’t exchange this for anything else.” she glances at her watch and sighs. “i don’t want to have to leave. but i promised susie and marta lunch before the f1 acad finale.”

“aw,” kimi coos. “i’ll be in the paddocks all weekend with seb, you know. i won’t disappear into thin air if i leave your sight.”

“i know! but i’ve been waiting all year to meet you!” she gushes, hands cupping her cheeks as she grins at him dreamily. “i watched you growing up! i loved you!”

kimi laughs — the kind that sebastian rarely hears, a genuine smile and his eyes crinkling at her. “kid, we’re going to dinner tonight. i promise i’ll even send you back to your hotel room.”

“okay!” she squeaks, pushing her chair back and springing to her feet. “pick a restaurant, okay! maybe if i eat like you, i’d be just like you.”

kimi smiles with a nod. he watches her round the table, bending down to press a kiss on seb’s cheek. he turns his head expectedly at her, raising his chin and leaning in slightly.

she giggles airily, hesitantly moving over to press a kiss on his cheek. she jogs towards the door of sebastian’s office, tripping on her feet along the way.

she turns around one last time. “i’ll see you later, dads!”

she extends her hand to wave at them before closing the door. a moment of silence passes the empty room, but the remnants of her smile and enthusiasm still remain in the room.

“she’s going to be amazing, you know.”

“i know,” sebastian smiles proudly, nodding. “she’s a future world champion, you reckon?”

“absolutely,” kimi nods. “you vouched for the right person, seb. good job.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadghcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[loverslodge]

his number one wife

summery: your marriage to Ransom was supposed to business

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

warning: slight angst, fluff, SMUT, swearing, arranged marriage au

A/N: finally got my grubby hands on Ransom. this baby better use his trust fund to feed me more in the future.

“But wasn't he married to someone else three years ago?”

You have been questioning your parents’ decision for over a week. Which means you questioned them immediately as they revealed their plan.

You are supposed to marry Hugh Ransom Drysdale next week. You both ran in the same circle, kind of. He was almost 10 years older than you. You had heard of his 3 failed marriages. One was his ex was just a plain bimbo while the other was an actual gold-digger. The third wife was just a cheater which they showed as an open relationship. The fourth divorce came as a surprise to you by your parents. They told you he is officially single since last month and you were wife number 5.

Harlan Thrombey was pissed at Ransom because he married these women just to piss Harlan off. Harlan wanted Ransom to do better so he could take over Blood like Wine under his supervision but with all these marriages and divorces, Ransom was losing his essence. Harlan had heard about his friend’s daughter, Y/N, who was an editor in a big publishing company, rival, sure, but an asset nonetheless.

Harlan had sorted his will, finally. He planned on giving everything to Marta right after Ransom’s last divorce but when he caught a waft your diligence, Harlan thought you were the answer to all the prayers. He had been closely observing you for a while before approaching your family with the preposition. He saw your reluctance and so he struck the deal up with something you cannot refuse and that is progress in life. Ransom had been wasting his life away and they were drifting apart. Harlan did not want that. He wanted Ransom to stay close to him. Unlike the rest of the family, Ransom did genuinely cared about Harlan. But Ransom needed a purpose in life and someone who could show him and support him. Harlan saw that in you. Harlan gave almost everything to you and Ransom leaving some things aside for Marta. But he needed to make sure that it didn't go over Ransom’s head. And that is why he added conditions to it.

Harlan had found out about the financial need your family had and to help out, he asked your hand in marriage for Ransom. He could only convince Ransom for this marriage by blackmailing him into it. He put a condition that he can only take over his legacy by marrying you for more than 3 years. He knew three years was a lot but that was the only way he could think of making Ransom stick to a sensible person.

Ransom had heard of you. Same circle and all. You were exactly the type Harlan was pushing for. Harlan was always on his back and he knew it was for his own good but damn living in a fucked up family and fucked up his brain. Ransom remembered seeing you in one of the fundraisers. You were dressed in a simple black long dress with a diamond brooch tucked on your bosom. Your makeup was light and your hair left in a loose bun. The only reason why Ransom remembers you is because you wore a red lipstick and he had jerked off to those lips that night. He wondered if you would wear that shade for the wedding.

……………….

It was officially your wedding day and you sat in your suite waiting to be called out. You didn't really have an option to say no. You had seen your family struggling financially and you got a call, directly from Harlan asking to meet.

When you met Harlan, he explained that Blood Like Wine needed a new owner and he wanted that to be you and Ransom. You had audibly scoffed at the idea but Harlan told you that if not, the publishing company would go to shit. You felt bad. You had read all about how Harlan started this company. You had ideas about starting your own but you had no capital. Harlan was giving you an open reign into doing whatever you wanted with the company and so you said yes. Not for Ransom but for the company. You were going to make it big.

You chose to wear a princess style wedding gown. You liked it. Fulfill your fantasy. Red roses adorned your hair and bouquet. Your hands were clammy. He was married to four different women before you. How were you supposed to compete with those? Especially as a virgin. Not that your virginity was an issue but Ransom was an experienced man with experienced ex wives. You definitely did not expect Ransom to go without sex for three years! You too would have wifely duties.

You heard your name called out and you shook your head. Maybe you'll get to talk to Ransom after the ceremony or after you reach his place, where you will live, with him. Your hands got clammy again and your breath started going short. Your walk down the aisle was a blur. For you, it took mere seconds to reach Ransom who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking just as much of an asshole as he was. Your breath still shaky, you stood beside him, clutching onto the flowers with your dear life.

As soon as the doors opened, Ransom turned to see the lovely woman he was being forced to marry. When he saw you, his heart thudded so loud, he could swear everyone heard it. You looked like a cupcake, sure, that made me snicker but the closer you got, the more he could see you. He saw you shaking, breathing heavy and he saw you having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the aisle. He wanted to rush to her, hold her and tell her ‘it's fine’ but he would never, it didn't fit the Ransom brand. Just as you stood beside him, he shuffled closer to you subtly and held out his hand.

“Here, hold my hand and breath with me. I can get you out of here as soon as we are done with the ceremony.”

You instinctively go for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You thought his breath hitched but you ignored and focused on the preacher. You merged your breath with his and by the time you zoned into the scene, the preacher asked to exchange the rings. You remember the rings because Harlan had shown them to you. You put the ring on Ransom’s finger and he does the same to you. He kept holding your hand during the rest of the ceremony. But as soon as the preacher announced that it was time to kiss, your brain started to struggle.

“I’ll put my thumb on your lips and kiss that. I know you don't want this but it's not like we have any options. Okay?” Ransom situated himself to get closer to you and cupped your face. He placed his thumb delicately on your lips.

You nodded with wide eyes. His thumb on your lips was sending tingles down your body. He shook his head and pulled you closer. “Words, baby, I need your words. Okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

Just as the words slipped out of your mouth, he placed his lips on his thumb. But his lips met with the corner of yours and you gasped. This was not good. Feeling tingles and lips on you. You could hear the crowd cheer but your wide eyes met his deep blue ones. They were unreadable. You put your hands on his chest and slowly pushed him and he let go.

You and Ransom were soon dragged to a private room where Harlan was waiting with a lawyer. Ransom was keeping his hand around your waist the entire time you were in the room. It felt, in a way, possessive, but you did not want to overthink it. You signed the papers and so did Ransom. Harlan had talked to Ransom and promised him the publishing company with a lot of his fortune the day he got married.

It took Ransom by surprise when he found out that he wasn't the only one who got the publishing company but it was you as well. They were going to partners, co-owners and well, a married couple to take the company forward. When he heard Harlan tell you that he is excited to see the changes you talked about bringing into the company, it boiled his blood. This was supposed to be his sole legacy and not a shared one. It pissed him off but he controlled it, for now.

The wedding reception went on in full swing. The Thrombeys were busy getting drunk and insulting people. Ransom sighed at the sight and sipped from his tumbler. You were dragged away a few minutes ago to the honeymoon suite. Apparently, you had told Harlan that you and Ransom won't be going for a honeymoon and whatever is to happen will happen in that hotel for the weekend. Ransom just wanted to go back to his place but conditions were binding him.

Ransom wanted to ask you about your apparent panic attack but he held off. So much was going on and he figured it out during the contract signing that you hadn't known about the wedding two weeks before. He, however, had known about it for over 2 months. He was given a choice between you or a socialite who was way too much into charity. He had picked you. He had seen you around often and had heard about you enough to know that you weren't going to dupe him or Harlan out of money.

You were pacing in your suite. You had managed to detangle your styled hair but getting out of the dress was proving impossible. You couldn't find the damned zipper. You were very close to tearing your dress when the door unlocked. Ransom sauntered in and threw his coat on the chair.

“What?” he asked as he manspread himself on the couch.

“Can you, uh, please help me? Nobody would help me out of the dress. I, uh, can't find the zipper.” You hesitated. You walked closer to him and he got up with a sigh.

“Why the fuck would you wear such elaborate dress anyway? It's not like you wanted to get married to me.” Ransom zips down the dress, leaving you almost startled when the dress started falling off your naked breasts.

“I might not have been keen on marrying you but I was bound by the contract. Harlan insisted. I couldn't say no.” You waddled into the bathroom with a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt.

“Why would you agree to a contract? You are an individual woman, as I have heard from your ungrateful friends.” Ransom raised his voice so you could hear him in the bathroom.

“They are not my friends. I know them due to social reasons. I, uh, I have no friends. I am, what my parents, very lovingly like to call, a social pariah. I talk to all but get close to none.”

“Is this why Harlan gave you the publishing company instead of me?” Ransom slipped on his sleep shorts and started unbuttoning his shirt. You yank open the door and walk with your wedding dress, carefully hanging it in the closet.

“He did give you the publishing company.” You settle in the bed and bring the comforter over your legs. You did not expect the room to be this cold.

“No, he gave me the company because of you. You are the reason why I have the company and I do not like that. I wanted to be the only owner, not a co-owner. You are just like others, trying to steal my legacy.” Ransom, in all his half-naked glory, sat on the other side of the bed.

“Hey! I did not steal anything. If anything, it was Harlan who told me that if I do not agree to marry you, he will close the company for good. He asked me to take over with you, not the other way around. Get off your high horse Hugh, nobody likes you like that.” You turn around and slip in, trying to get some sleep.

“It’s Ransom, and you know it. Do not call me Hugh. you are my wife and not some help.” He yanked the comforter off of you.

“Whatever. I don't care. I have this weekend to figure out how to announce it to the rest of the office and how to get your pervert uncle off my back.” You yank the comforter back and go to sleep.

You calling Walt a pervert hit Ransom on the nerve. He did know Walt did not see kindly to women but to have his new bride call out his uncle right off the bat clicked something in him. But he was also not going to let you take all the credits alone. He would be damned if you did all the work alone and became the office favorite. He will pester you into sharing your ideas and he will make sure that Walt stays away from all of this.

………………….

You were honestly shocked when you reached Ransom’s place on Sunday evening that nothing happened between the two of you. You had heard Ransom to be a lady’s man, always flirting, always so good to get women in bed. Hell, you had witnessed him get two sisters to stop fighting over him and took them both to bed! But he did nothing to you. Nothing! Zero! Nada! Zilch! You have no idea why it affected you so much.

You shook your head and took in the room that Ransom had so nicely provided for you. He was very understanding about the fact you don't want to share a room. But you both did share an office. In and out of the house. He made space for your desk in the home office.

As soon as you arrived at his place, he made a beeline to his room, leaving you to explore the house alone. You soon found the home office with your desk and started setting up. You weren't used to the weekends off and so you immediately started looking at the manuscripts that had piled up because of Walt’s lack of interest. It was going to take some time to sort through the genres and copies but you weren't a quitter.

Ransom heard you type away in the home office. Your typing was aggressive. He got annoyed. He marched into the home office to see you deep into the piles of manuscripts that you had asked your assistant to bring. It irked Ransom. He was supposed to do this. He is supposed to be the big boss. So he walks to your desk and takes a pile.

“No! Not that one. I had just sorted through that! This one,” you point at the pile on your left. “Take this pile. This one needs to go through extensive work. I am busy reading this one and if you want to help, pick that.”

Ransom was taken aback. Instead of fighting him into letting you do all the work, you actually gave him the correct thing to focus on. He put the pile back and picked the one you pointed at. But, instead of working on them, he just placed them on the desk and stood in front of your desk.

“What do you want? I gave you the correct pile. Start working on it.”

“It's time for dinner. Come on. Come downstairs. Work tomorrow. You have been at it the entire weekend.” Ransom was trying to be polite. He never treated his previous wives this way. But in all honesty, his previous wives were not worker bees. All they wanted from Ransom was money and he did do that. He wasted away his life and money on them but you weren't like that. Ransom noticed. He liked it. You made him be what he had always wanted to be. But he wasn't going to let you know that.

“I'm not hungry. Maybe next time.” You said without lifting your head.

Ransom scoffed and left. He didn't disturb you the rest of the night. But he did have his housekeeper send you some food. He wasn't heartless. He wouldn't want his partner to die without telling him what she had been up to.

………………….

Mondays were hell. Mondays should not exist. You drag yourself out of bed after pulling an almost all nighter. You had gone to bed at 3:30 am and the sleep didn't come to you for almost an hour because you were not used to the new space. You went to the bathroom next to your room and undress. You turned on the shower and step in to let it wash the exhaustion off of you.

Ransom woke up earlier than he used to. He looked at the clock that glared at him at 7:00 am. He sighed and rose to go to the bathroom to shower. He spent the entire night pacing his room and thinking about how he would ask you to step down so he could take over. He did not like how you just took over without a complaint or thought. You were stepping on his legacy. He walked in the bathroom and opened the shower curtain, only to see you, very naked and very wet.

Ransom could not take his eyes off of you. You had been making him horny but seeing your body, it excelled it all. He saw your curves and the way the water was dripping from your breasts to your core, he pictured a hundred things all at once. He just wanted to slip into the shower with you and have his way. He wanted to touch your curves, caress your curves, hold on to you and pull his name, that you refused to say, out of your pink puffed lips.

“What the fuck! Get out! Do you not have a bathroom in your room?” You shut the curtain and peak your head out from a gap you made. You are very embarrassed but somehow, not angry.

You were not the most confident woman when it came to her body. You saw your body as a bunch of fat pouches. So, when Ransom saw your naked body, you thought he would find you unattractive. He was perfect but you were not. His ex wives were perfect but you were not. You never thought of trying to please Ransom but after this, you wanted him to see you for your brain and not your pudgy body.

“My shower has been broken. The repairman will be coming today. I thought nobody would have woken up this early! Why are you here?” Ransom surprised himself when he turned around to give her privacy. He could hear a waver in her voice but still not his name.

“Oh! Well, you are one of those people who dont wake up early. Harlan told me you wake up at 10. And secondly, I don't have a bathroom in my room. This is the one where i put my things. Now, please, get out. I need to get out of the shower and I'm cold.”

Ransom sees your towel hanging near him so he takes it and tosses it over his shoulder towards you without turning. He hears a squeak coming from you and some scrambling till he feels your body heat near him. You weren't touching him but he felt you. Your breath directly on his shirtless back. He could see you in the mirror. He saw you adjusting the towel around you and your lips puffing out air. He just wanted to turn around and crash his mouth on yours.

You push your way out of the bathroom and run into your room, leaving Ransom in the bathroom with a hard on.

…………………..

Walt needs to mind his own business which is finding a new job. You were tired of him sitting in front of you. He kept on eyeing you in a way that made you very uncomfortable. You figured he was trying to assert dominance but this was pure perversion to you.

Ransom walked in the office. He had helped set up your desk in the same office since he wanted to look into what you were going to do. The room was huge. His desk was on a raised platform while you were on the level. You didn't mind really. The sofas were set to the window overlooking the company employee desks. You had your own assistant and Ransom had his own but you had instructed them to be in constant communication so as to maintain the operations. The HR department was informed of your position and they had worked out the paperworks on it which you and Ransom had signed along with the rest of the documents on your wedding day.

Ransom saw Walt being an ass. He saw him sitting on your desk and your face buried in the laptop trying very hard to avoid Walt. ransom twisted his chair and turned him around, away from you.

“Get out, Walt. you're harassing my wife. You're not needed. You're not the boss. If you have anything to say, talk to me.” Ransom points at the door. 

“Hmph. try whatever you two want to but i will be the one saving this company by joining hands with Netflix. You will come running to me. Mind you.” Walt huffed out of the room.

Ransom saw your shoulder sag in relaxation. “Thank you.” you whispered so softly that if Ransom wasn't standing at your desk, he wouldn't have heard it.

“I put a pile on your desk. I thought you'd want to look into them. I don't want you to think that I am trying to take what is yours.” You point at his desk without looking up. Ransom was taken aback. You were involving him. You were not competing with him, but you were taking him along with you.

The day went by in silence. You stayed busy and so did he. Right before the lunch break, you and Ransom went downstairs and introduced yourselves to the employees. Obviously the female employees scoffed at his new wife but what irked Ransom was how the male employees were looking at you. Their eyes raked all over your body. He hadn't noticed your dress but now, he was seeing it. Your bosom was ample and so your cleavage was visible through the top of your blouse. You were wearing pants that accentuated your hips and thighs that made Ransom gasp internally. Your heels just gave your body the extra pump that it needed.

Ransom slowly walked and stood in front of you in a very nonchalant manner. He blocked the view of every male employee of you and he seemed pleased when he heard defeated groans from behind him. He smirked. He saw you weren't even aware of the effect you were having on the people. You were busy talking to the head of the marketing department and setting up dates to figure out marketing of new books. Somehow, he felt proud.

You hadn't brought lunch with you but you had work to do so you ignored food like you always did. After the introductions, you went back to the office and got back to work. Ransom had left right after that. You heard the employees return and you figured that the break was over. It must've been a while when you heard the office door open. You assumed it was one of the assistants and ignored it.

“Yeah, you can leave the file here. Email me the manuscript or if you can print it out for me, that would be great.”

“Did you even eat lunch?” That baritone voice jolts you out of the work.

“No.”

“Did you stay here the entire lunch break?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“...”

Your lack of response made him hiss in annoyance. Ransom picked the intercom from your desk and asked the assistant to bring you an avocado sandwich and freshly cut fruits.

“Listen, I appreciate you picking up the slack but you've got to eat. I can't have you falling because of low blood sugar. Don't expect me to do this every time.”

“I never expected you to do any of this. It's fine. You are not responsible for me.”

You talk back to him and go back to your work. Your food arrives soon and you munch on it while working. Ransom could not help but keep looking at you. He had never seen someone so diligent about Blood Like Wine, except Harlan.

Not everybody knew but Ransom loved Blood Like Wine as his own. It was not because it was his legacy but because it was part of his loving grandfather. Harlan might be a nosy asshole but Ransom did love him and whatever Harlan had was going to be Ransom’s, without question. Although, after all the marriages Ransom had pulled, Harlan was getting worried that he might actually have to cut him off but Ransom looked like he was coming around with this marriage. Harlan liked seeing Ransom getting more involved in it, even though it might be because he saw you as a competition.

Harlan was on his desk at his home when he got reported on their first day together. He smirked when he learnt that Ransom, even though reluctantly, got you lunch. He was also impressed with the amount of work you were catching up on and making Ransom work as well. Usually Ransom would just sit at the office for an hour or so and go off galavanting but with you there, Ransom went home at a regular time and with you strutting in front of him.

……………………..

Two months had gone by and you couldn't complain. Except Walt hovering around you whenever he gets a chance. He just wanted you to listen to his ideas but you knew what Harlan wanted and stayed away from any Walt ideas.

Ransom has been really nice to you. You both never had any moments but whatever was going on, it made things a little clear for you. Ransom was a good person. He was just misunderstood. Actually, people around him were so toxic that it had made him a miserable person. He brought you lunches, dinners and especially freshly cut fruits because you had a tendency of forgetting to eat.

He was somehow more observant than you gave him credit for. He was also such a great boss. Sure, he would be rude and appear as overbearing but it was all in good faith, he just didn't know how to frame the sentences politely. 

You handled the employees after he would walk away. You would explain the problems to them in a very mild manner and that boosted a lot of confidence in them. Your pair was seen as ‘good cop, bad cop’. It was very evident who was who.

You still shared an office in his house. You felt at home now. Ransom had started liking having you around. He would actually wait to get a glimpse of you in the morning. If you had left for work before him, he would be cranky the entire day. Nobody noticed that about him, neither him nor you.

………………….

You were comfortably sitting at your desk in the home office when Ransom threw open the door in a haste.

“What?” You were startled.

“I lied to Harlan. I said something and now he is going to be here to check on it. I need you to cooperate.” Ransom practically begged. And you knew that because he never begged.

“Before I cooperate, I need to know the reason. I'm not doing anything that I don't want to do.”

“Obviously. I'm not someone who would force someone to do things.” You raised an eyebrow at Ransom’s comment. “Not unless it's necessary. You know what I'm talking about.”

“You're stalling. What did you tell Harlan?”

“I told Harlan that we were getting along very well. He assumed sexually too so now he thinks we can't keep our hands off of each other. I didn't bother correcting him and now he is coming here for a surprise visit.”

“How do you know about his surprise visit?”

“I have my assistant on his tail. Kind of like a double agent. So will you cooperate?”

“I don't see what's there to cooperate.” You were just getting confused with Ransom’s babbling at this point.

“We will need to look like we are making out.” Ransom straightened up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stood up in rage.

“What's wrong with that? It's not like my cock will be in your pussy. You're overreacting. Stop being so prude.” Ransom shrugged his shoulders.

“Ransom!” You yelled loudly, stunning him.

This was the first time in six months you had ever said his name. If you wanted his attention, you might refer to him as Hugh but it was as far as five times in six months. He counted. He always did, unconsciously. He was dying to hear you say his name and now…

“Say it again.” Ransom walked up to you, backing you up against your desk.

“What?” Your voice softened and hoarse.

“My name.” Ransom’s voice dropped an octave, making you clench your thighs.

Ransom walked closer and before you could realize, he had spread your thighs and was standing in between them. You were propped up on the desk and his hands were planted on your waist. He glides his right hand up your body, sending tingles through your clothes. His hand ends up on your neck and he presses his calloused thumb against your throat lightly.

You look in his darkened eyes and obediently do as he told you. “Ransom.” It comes out hoarse due to the fact that you're turned on.

Hearing his name from your mouth and the vibrations that his name caused on his thumb turned him on. Without a thought, his lips descend on your throat. A whimper escaped your lips and your hands slipped around his waist.

“Again.” He demands softly, keeping his lips on your throat.

“Ransom.” You say it again with a whimper.

His lips latched on to your neck and he started sucking and licking. You were a whimpering mess. The way his name vibrated from your throat to his lips spurred him on too much. Your hands tightened around his waist. His right hand held onto your neck while his left slipped in your shirt sending sparks up your back where he placed his hand. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as well, pulling him close. His clothed bulge was now snug against your clothed dripping cunt.

It felt like a while till you heard the door to the office open. Harlan was greeted by a scene he was definitely not expecting. He knew that Ransom lied when he did not correct him. But the scene before him was surely not a mirage. Harlan cleared his throat and called out both of your names to pull you both out of the haze.

Your back was against Harlan and so Ransom looked over your shoulder to greet Harlan. You were too embarrassed to turn around so you did what you thought worked the best and that was burying your face in Ransom’s sweater-clad chest. Ransom tightened his hold on you making you feel more comfortable against him. You were now aware of his bulge against your wetness which, in turn, pooled more wetness.

“Sorry, Harlan. I'm a little busy here. Is it important?” Ransom’s hoarse voice rang through your ears.

“No. Nothing important just came by to see you two.” Ransom saw Harlan’s smirk. “Let's meet this weekend at my office. Both of you.” With that statement, Harlan walked out, closing the office door behind him.

You didn't realize you were holding your breath. You let out a strong air and were about to pull away from Ransom when he lifted you off the desk. You yelped and tightened your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He kept on nipping at your neck making you moan and whimper as he led you to the sofa in the office. He sat down, making you straddle him.

He moves his lips from your neck slowly to your lips. He brushed his lips against yours and looked in your eyes for permission. Your eyes popped open to see his dark blue ones staring right at you. You wanted his lips on yours and he was letting you lead this time. He had loosened his hold on your waist as well, telling you that it's okay to stop.

You looked at his lips and back in his eyes. They were full of desire and you would be lying if you did not want his cock in you.

You grabbed his sweater and pulled him for a deep passionate kiss, surprising him a little. He got over his shock in a second and dove deep with the kiss. Tongues were tangled and hairs were ringed around the fingers. You were grinding against him, so was he.

His hand moved to your breasts and started fondling them from over your bra. You whined, not being able to feel his skin against your taut nipples. You moved your hand back and unhooked your bra then directed his hand under your bra. You hiss and moan when his palms caress your nipples.

He was surprised when you took the lead and directed his hand to your bare breasts. He sighed and drew his lips on the open skin near your breast. You whined again and tugged your top off, along with your bra, leaving your top bare for him. Before he could descend his lips on your chest, you tugged at his sweater and he removed it to reveal a very tight and thick chest.

You roam your hand on his chest and admire the piece of art it was. Seeing your reaction to his body, he chuckled lightly, still fondling your breasts. You wanted his mouth on your nipples so you dragged his face to your breasts and shoved a nipple near his lips. Taking the hint, he opened his mouth and sucked and licked your nipples, making your back arch and moan loudly.

“I am loving the initiative.” Ransom whispered against your nipples.

“Well, you are holding back.” You tug on his hair.

“Then let me not make you wait.”

Ransom unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He shuffled a little to drop his pants and boxers to his ankle while you did the same with your underwear.

“Let me tell you something, darling, once I have you, I have you. We are not going back. You still have a chance to back out.” Ransom brings your nipples to his lips again, making you moan.

“You're wrong. Once I have you, you're not going back. You better keep that in mind.” You tug at his hair and bring his face near yours. You cupped his face and forced him to look in your eyes. “I will ruin the lives of every woman you will think about during our marriage.”

Ransom chuckled. “You're the only woman I'm going to be thinking about for the rest of our lives.”

You settle well against his thick, long cock, pressing it against your wet lips and grind on him again as you attack his neck with your lips. You started marking him up, leaving deep, dark marks all over his neck while slowly grinding against his naked cock. He was a moaning mess.

“Shit, darling, so possessive.” Ransom grabbed your jaw and dragged your lips back to his.

You lifted yourself a little and his other hand guided his cock within your folds. As his cock entered you, you let out a loud moan.

“So big, Ransom.” Before moving, he lets you get used to his size.

“Fuck, Darling.” Ransom began to move.

You ground your hips against his movement that made you both moan. Because of these movements, his cock kept on hitting your spot and you could do nothing but moan loudly.

“Darling, you’re fucking tight. Damn, I can feel you squeezing me.” Ransom held your hips and made you move faster. You threw your head back and leaned back on his shoulder. Your lips found his again and drowned the noises both of you were making.

“Fuck, Ransom. You make me feel so good.” You descend your lips on his chest and he guides your hips through the movement. He loved hearing his name from you. Especially when you moan about it. He doesn’t think he will ever go back to hearing you say his name normally again.

You both came closer to your high and you brought your hands down to your clit the same time as Ransom. Seeing he was going to take care of you, you take your fingers back and grip his shoulder to move faster.

“Fuck! Faster Ransom!”

Ransom swirls his finger on your clit faster and you bounce on his cock with much vigor. You both get to your high together and the coil in your stomach snaps. You cum all over his cock as he kept on thrusting in you, cumming himself. You ride out your orgasm with him. His thrusting falters and you sag against his chest just as he sags on the couch.

You both stay like this for a few minutes. Ransom had his arms around you and one of which was caressing your cheek. You snuggle closer to him. He was still buried deep in you and both of your cum dribbled out of you on the couch but none of you wanted to move.

“Come on, darling, we should get up and get cleaned. It's time for your fruits.” Ransom held on to you and stood up. His cock slipped out of you, making you whimper at his loss.

“Are you sure youre not feeding me fruits so that you get to fuck me again?” You try to tease Ransom that made him chuckle.

“Yes. That is exactly why. I need you in my bed.” He walks into the bathroom and helps you stand in the shower. “But before that, I'm going to have you in the shower.”

That entire day was spent in the bed with Ransom. After each round, he would feed you fruits and give you water bottles to stay hydrated. It wasn't until way past midnight that you both grew tired and after one last round in the shower, you both snuggled in his bed to sleep.

Next day when you woke up, one thing was made very clear by Ransom and that was “You are it for me, darling. You're my wife, you're my partner and I am willing to spend the rest of my life making sure you eat on time.”

Fair to say, he moved your desk out and extended his desk so you could sit with him. He refused to stay away from you for even five minutes but you didn't mind. Both of you worked in expanding Blood Like Wine into a bigger name than it was and you managed to protect his legacy just how he liked it. Harlan was happy with whatever was going on and stopped meddling.

Ransom had finally found a woman who was his number one and for whom he was the number one.

[roquebr]

The Fury

Barcelona femeni x reader

Aitana Bonmáti x reader

Summary: When all seems lost, a turnaround can be more impressive.

The rocking of the bus gives me a slight feeling of relaxation, my headphones placed carelessly in my ears, with the sound at the highest volume, hoping to hide the prevailing noise of the place.

The youngest girls on the team are very excited about today's game, it's no surprise that we are heading towards the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, simply the biggest European championship. So it's not surprising when some of them are sitting on their benches with greater concentration than the other side, which is a mess.

Everyone has their own way of preparing, mine being to ignore everyone around me as much as possible until we get to the changing rooms, music being my escape point, I always turn to Brazilian music to be my company during these moments, it's a way of feel close to home.

— Meto o chapéu na cabeça ela perde a cabeça e me fala assim... – When the song approaches the chorus, I feel a nudge on my shoulders, I pause the song and look at the intruder who disturbed me and then I relax, yeah Alexia, she knows about my pre-game ritual and I know she wouldn't disturb me for nothing.

—Hey Ale, allright?

— Yes, sorry to bother you, but we've already arrived at the stadium and the girls are already coming down.

— I lost track, I'm going too, I'm just going to get my things — I give a small smile, thanking him for his kindness.

— I see you're a little out of tune, is everything okay? – He places one of his free hands on my shoulder, with the other holding his belongings. I don't know how she manages to balance everything like that, if it were me, my cell phone would definitely be broken on the floor by now.

— Yes, I'm just concentrating on the game, you know how it is, right?

— I understand, but if you need anything you can talk to me. – I don't answer, stopping myself from just returning a kind look.

We continued walking towards the changing rooms, greeting the workers as I passed.

I know that this nervousness is not just because of the game, but because of the desire to show more than my best on the field, having arrived at the club just under a year ago, coming straight as a standout on the Ferroviária, I knew that from the beginning I had to show more than I expected.

I've had a strong presence in many of the 37 unbeaten games played so far, I've been a regular starter, but apparently I'm not good enough to start today.

As soon as Jona announced who would start before we got on the bus, my spirits immediately dropped, I know he decided the lineup thinking about preserving some prominent athletes for possible future changes of keys, but that doesn't negate my feeling of incompetence to start on the bench.

We arrive at the locker room and I immediately head to my cubicle, my headphones that have been stored for a long time no longer deprive me of Rosalía's loud voice that emanates from the absurdly loud speaker in my ears.

I change calmly, but I decide not to wear socks or football boots for now, I'm going to interpret this as a protest for being on the bench today, a bit childish I know.

I sigh and lean my head against the wall, where my game t-shirt used to hang, I watch my happy teammates as they transform and sway to the beat of the music.

I saw my girlfriend of 1 year, we met in October 2022 at Ballon D'or, I went to the event as Marta's guest after telling her in a free conversation that I would like to have the experience of going.

We talked for just over a month and soon we were dating, excited, right, but the feeling was intense and it happened, at first it was difficult because of the distance because I was in Brazil and she was in Spain, but we got through it together, whenever I could I went to visit her. there. Unfortunately, she never managed to go to Brazil, but I will resolve that during our next “vacation”.

Jona arrives in the locker room and starts his usual motivational talk, honestly I don't feel like listening to anything, with my mind confused I just focus on going to the bench.

Sit next to Alexia with Lucy on the other side, the traditional song of the champions plays bringing a smile to my face, regardless of my wounded pride, every time this anthem plays I can't help but get emotional, it's a dream that becomes childhood reality.

The first half of the game was somewhat disappointing, Barça put pressure on Chelsea's marking but unfortunately the defense did not give in, in the 39th minute came the beginning of our fall, taking advantage of a passing error from Irene that gave Chelsea close possession of the ball. to the area, making a respectable exchange of passes until he found a partner in the area, he deceived Keira's marking and passed to Cuthbert who wasted no time in scoring. We came out at half-time with 1-0 to Chelsea.

The atmosphere in the dressing room is very different to when we arrived, the totally dead Barcelona vibe contradicts the emotion I normally feel, word after word, motivation after motivation, all falling on my deaf ears as each teammate seemed focused on acquiring each lyric. said by him.

With a wave of his hand, Jona takes me aside to talk.

— YN, where are your boots?

— It's in the bank, Jona.

He sighs lightly in annoyance, the stress in his shoulders is visible.

— Look, I know you're disappointed that I didn't start today, but please put your boots on, I'll be with you on the field in about 10 minutes.

— Great Jona, I'll put it on.

Returning to the second half, a little more excited, I ask one of the physiotherapists there to put a bandage on my ankle, Sophia is her name, as I injured my ankle during the game I always put a bandage on it to avoid future injuries.

After Sophia finishes, I put on my socks and football boots, I kiss each shin guard before putting them on.

The second half began, Barça had difficulty getting into the game, then a penalty was awarded in our favor, we celebrated along with the cheers of the fans, this would be our chance to continue in the game.

The referee goes to the Var and immediately cancels the penalty, apparently the referee interprets that Salma's offside hinders the defender, nonsense if I may say so.

At 63 minutes Jona makes 2 substitutions, bringing Alexia and Lucy. Ingrid and Ona sit next to me, respectively tired and disappointed with their performances, I give both thighs a comforting squeeze.

I wait anxiously at the edge of my bench for a while, waiting for the moment when Jona replaces me. In the 74th minute, when Ramirez, Chelsea's striker, missed the chance to expand, my heart almost exploded. Patri managed to disrupt her position well, although he still let her to finish the shot.

— Jonas!! – He doesn’t even turn around in recognition.

— Que saco mano. – I go down towards him who was on the side of the field. — Jona, am I going in now?

— Be patient, YN, go to warm up.

A frown appears on my face, but I do as I'm told, not before kicking the water bottle nearby. My companions give me sympathetic looks, which makes me more stressed.

At 78 minutes, the assistant coach says I'm ready and Jona calls me to the sidelines next to him.

— Listen to me, we need you now in this field, are you ready for this challenge. – She pauses only to give the numbers to the fourth referee who is preparing the replacement panel. — We need to decide this game at home, with our fans who came here to watch us play, with courage and love when we enter the field. I know you are ready for this challenge, show who you are and what you came for.

I can't find words, so I just listen, shaking my head with a determined look. I take the place of Mariona, who wishes me good luck, running to my position, passing my girlfriend, blinking and returning to focus on the game.

Time: 80m

In a quick run down the wing, Frido sends it to Caro who tries to finish, the goalkeeper saves but the rebound goes straight to my side, I don't miss the opportunity and send it into the goal. I see Salma grab the ball so we can restart the game, I run back to position, jumping and calling the fans to play together.

Time: 83m

Patri intercepts the ball in midfield, passes it to Aitana who dribbles the opponent, leaving her mistaken, I ask for the ball and soon receive it. I notice that the goalkeeper's left corner is free, I prepare my leg and take a strong low shot, I see the ball roll quickly as the goalkeeper tries to launch himself too late, then you see the net ripple. We changed the course of the game, but it's still not enough.

Time: 85m

Aitana is having an impressive run taking advantage of Chelsea's neglect, a defender in front of her, with options like me on the left and Caro on the right, with Salma right behind. Aita rolls the ball to me, I take a slight touch to the right and shoot with confidence, the ball takes a threatening curve and soon falls into the net, surprising the goalkeeper.

Now I allow myself to celebrate, I run close to the flag post and slide down on my knees, my teammates hugging me and pulling me everywhere, the euphoria was so much that it felt like we had won the Champions League right there. I felt like crying, I scored my first hat-trick in the Champions League

Time: 88m

We receive a free kick after the Chelsea player almost grabbed Aitana trying to take the ball away from her, Salma takes the free kick which hits Lucy's head, who aims the ball towards the goalkeeper's box. She came spinning through the air, landing perfectly at my feet, I beautifully pushed her towards the goal and fell into the hug. With every second that passed the crowd became louder and louder, if possible.

Time: 90m

The gas had not passed, it was getting stronger and stronger, now with a considerable advantage, we preferred to send the team back. Keeping score is crucial for the second leg in England. Although we are currently more focused on defense, that doesn't stop us from also attacking at every opportunity. The team's confidence increased and we played calmer, making more passes and remaining calm when under pressure.

Caro has the ball on the right wing, looks up and sees the perfect opportunity to cross.

Caro's always necessary crossing makes things easier for me, I wait for her to reach the right height before jumping and sending the bike, when I fall backwards onto the grass my pain is numbed by a very loud vibration coming from the stadium.

Barely having time for anything else, I run towards the small Chelsea fans present in the stadium, stop in front of them and place both hands on my waist, with an arrogant posture, soon my teammates come to me in pure euphoria. Many compliments reach my ears, I allow myself to embrace them as much as possible before we have to return to the starting position.

9 minutes of extra time were allowed, nothing else impressive happened during this period, the 3 characteristic whistles were heard. There were many celebrations after we greeted the rival team. I head towards the referee team who hands me the ball.

Jona hugs me congratulating me on a successful game, the team soon arrives and gives me the idea of throwing myself into the air, I try to run away but I'm not fast enough, after the desperate seconds pass I run to the fans, my spirits were high today.

I ask a member of the coaching staff to hold my ball for me, while I jump into the arms of the crowd, doing my best to sign and take as many photos with everyone as possible, the only limit being the barrier.

I feel an arm go around my waist as I sign a Mapí fan t-shirt. I look to the side and see that it is Aitana, who is already looking at me with her beautiful smile on her face, her bright eyes remind me of the constellations.

I can't help but smile with her, our passionate looks betrayed our enormous passion for each other, which doesn't go unnoticed by the public, to everyone's euphoria and my poor heart, she stands on tiptoe and gives a long kiss to the my lips. , fireworks light up in my belly.

Soon the photo of that moment would be published on many pages, one of them was the official Barça account, and certainly on many fan pages that would blow up my cell phone with notifications.

But I couldn't care less, I played an impressive game and had my girl in my arms, could I ask for more than that?.

!!The inspiration for the character to score 5 goals in 10 minutes came from Lewa, when he played for Bayern he did this feat, so I thought “why not put that in the fic?”!" ... sorry for any mistakes, english is not my main language

[mj0702]

Hi , hope you are doing better admin and welcome back.

When bb becomes the coach along with alexia , I think mapi is banned from attending the match because she shouts from behind encouraging bb and baby engen is just happy to join her mother. Only ingrid is there along with baby engen while mapi shouts to the tv and bagheera is just judging her.

This was sitting in me asks way too long... sorry anon 😅

Bb begged Alexia to give Mapí a small job on the team so Alexia had to find a small, easy, basically unimportant position she could set Mapí up with

Mapí became "Head of Gear" meaning she was in charge of all the trainings gear settings it up (like cones and stuff) and making sure everything is intact and on the pitch when Alexia needed it

To Alexias surprise it went really well and Mapí took her job very seriously - until....

Until they were playing Madrid and Bb just grabbed stuff from Mapís Gear dufflebag and started to throw it at the Madrid players and Mapí then started to hand Bb things to throw

Alexia had to go back into Capitana mode when Bb hit Athenea with a cone on the back of the head - she put Bb in Timeout on the bench and banned Mapí to the stands where Ingrid was already waiting"i told you you wouldn't watch Classico from the pitchside"

Baby Engen was very happy her Mamí was with her in the Stands - she sat there with her little "Engen-Leon" Jersey on Ingrids lap clapping happily whenever Bb shot off the bench yelling and gesturing wildly for Alexia to just send her back... Bb sulked a lot on the bench that day

After the game Bb made it her personal mission to talk as much catalan trash to Athenea she could remember from all the time spend with Aitana and Ona - Athenea just looked confused and answered "I don't speak catalan" for Bb to reply "I know... you are just beneath me Sir"

Alexia groaned a lot on that day - and she had to have a very stern talking about professionalism with both Bb and Mapí... it didn't help tho... next time they played Madrid Mapí snuck an actual Paintball gun in and Bb had the warm-up time of her life when Madrid came out... the only one she spared was Misa - Misa is her Aunt Jennis best friend and therefore not to be touched or Paintball-ed

After that Mapí wasn't even allowed in the Stands anymore so Bb and Mapí had to come up with new ways to make Alexias time a living hell - they used walkie talkies... it took Alexia an embarrassing long time to figure out what was going on - Keira immediately saw the little in-ear nudged in Bbs left ear... Keira got herself a large Coca-Cola that game alongside her usual large Popcorn because she immediately saw it's gonna be big cinema and she'll just enjoy the shit show that was about to go down

Mapí also implanted in her daughters mind that whatever Auntie Neña says Baby Engen had to do - Bb used an innocent child to spit on Atheneas head every time the woman was fairly close... Bb got put in Stands timeout where she was seated between Irene and Marta (both Mothers at that point) so she wouldn't cause any more trouble and the two former Barca players could have an eye on her

It went well until Athenea decided to turn around, locking eyes with Bb and discreetly lifted her middle finger... oh all hell broke loose after that - Bb shot out of her seats, climbed over people, jumping down the barrier to full on bodyslam into Athenea from the back... it took three men and Alexia to get Bb off the Madrista - all while Bb had a cheering Mapí in her ear

Keira just sat there leaning over to Laura who was there with her "Told you it's gonna be an interesting game" ... "Shouldn't you do something?" ... "Nope... today she's officially Alexias problem - I'm just here to enjoy the atmosphere of El Classico"

#bbhc #anon

[grimsonandclover]

Thirteen/The Gift

The diner booth is comfortable enough, the red vinyl cracking and exposing veins of yellow foam that have probably soaked years of spilled drinks and dripped sauce into them. You think about it every time you sit on them.

"What," Patrick clears his throat, adjusting himself in the seat opposite you as his eyes glance at fingers that play with a simple gold pendant around your neck, "Do you want to order anything?"

The menu is the same it always has been. Shrimp cocktail nobody ever has or ever should order, cheeseburgers that could send you into a coma, mozerella sticks and onion rings that taste like hollow dough. The food is lackluster but that's never why you came here, not for those. No, Patrick and you would always order-

"Just fries."

He swallows thickly. Patrick always asks, or always did, more out of habit than necessity. It was always a basket of fries split between the two of you here. The only thing that has felt normal to him in a lifetime. Those are the first words you've spoken to him since you'd told him to leave.

How many words ago was that? How many basket of fries lost since? Immesurable.

They're eaten in silence, which had never happened before. Years before, the meal would be filled with chatter and laughter, drama and gossip, bickering and jabs. No smart remarks were launched from one end of the veneered table to the other, no side-long glances or words of praise or scorn. Just the shuffling behind the diner counter as Marta wipes the laminate down and Billy finishes the night's dwindling orders in the kitchen behind. Forks scrape against ceramic, cups clank, someone coughs. Neither of you speak.

Patrick clears his throat for a second time. Looking over through the window beside you, one that faces the snowy parking lot, he asks you a silent question.

"Let's go to mine." You answer, knowing you're sparing him the shame of explaining his situtation if you offered his.

He's sat on your couch while you're on the floor, your head leaning back against the cushion while he crosses his arms across and Patrick props his feet up on your coffee table.

"Fuck, just... I don't know, say something."

You can tell the quiet is stressing him out, it always has. Quiet was either filled with judgement and strain, or it was filled with his ramblings. It never just existed. "Don't know what to say." It's the truth, you don't.

"Well, then... how are you doing?"

You shrug. He's still your Facebook friend, and you know he checks it. According to that, you're thriving.

"Jesus, man..."

Thirteen years has put distance between you, so much so that the invisible string tying you two together must look worn and frayed. It's been hard for you lately, a fact not broadcasted on your Facebook (where the only thing posted there now are updates you'd care for extended family to see). Patrick can see it, though. He saw it the moment he saw you on the court.

Your knuckles are red and scraped like your knees, creases now appear at the corner of your eyes and mouth when you talk and smile or frown, new and old scars litter your shoulder and chest. When you were eleven, the two of you were running in his backyard and you cut yourself on the shin with a jutting out bit of rock on a nearby fountain you'd circled, threatening Patrick that you'd jump in and through it to catch him. He can still see that scar now, skin bare as you sit in your same tennis shorts and tank.

Patrick could smell your sweat and perfume, and feel your hair tickle his thigh, and breathe your air, and see you, but he couldn't hear you. A pack of Camel Blues is pulled from his pocket. Same ones he's always smoked.

You'd scold him for smoking in your apartment, but that's too many words you'd care to spare him. At least the balcony doors are open.

He pulls two out, placing them both between his lips and grabbing the lighter you're suddenly handing him, your empty fingers now given one of the two lit cigarettes. A habit picked up as kids.

The cigarettes dwindle in your novelty ashtray, and now Patrick stands at your front door, pulling a threadbare coat over tired, cold muscle. Your fault for not turning on the heat. You think the years did him good. A part of you hopes they have, one that's lied dormant since it all ended. That part of you is old and sleepy, quiet as it's awoken, but you can still hear it. You really hope he's alright. The stubble looks alright.

He's looking down at his shoes, then yours, then to the golden pendant that he gave you exactly thirteen years ago, then to you.

"You've spoken exactly eleven words to me." Patrick can't look you in the eye, a weak smile on the corner of his mouth as his gaze darts down again. "Almost one for every year."

You hesitate for a moment before you reach up and behind your neck. You almost don't.

Grabbing his hand and pulling his fingers apart, the only contact you've made with him, you can feel the same callouses on warm, distantly familiar skin. His nails are in the same sorry state they've always been, bitten down and beaten for a good thirty-one years. He's confused by what you're doing, and then you're making his heart stop, head spin. When he looks into his palm, he sees the gift.

"Goodbye, Patrick."

[sofipitch]

One big theme in the locked tomb is the importance of community, and especially with the framework of those with a disability. Harrow in HTN has two different worlds she is interacting with, one in which the people around her don't give a shit to help her at all, and in that world she dies. Then in the river bubble most everyone refuses to leave her on her own, thye chose to help her, many despite not knowing her. Compare Ianthe's speech to Harrow in the prologue, the way she frames it is Harrow will not survive if she doesn't accept her help, and that Ianthe specifically is the only one who can. Her speech intentionally or not implied that she sees Harrow as weak. Of course Harrow rejects her help. Whereas when Harrow is asking the others to not help her defeat the sleeper, many frame it as helping her is just being part of something they already wanted to do or that they benefit from (the ones that come immediately to mind being Abigail, Dulcie, and Marta). They help her but don't make her feel like she owes them anything for doing it. Which is the opposite of Ianthe, when Harrow makes her the bone arm, Harrow doesn't want anything in return but Ianthe explicitly states she doesn't want to owe her.

The same is true in Nona, Camilla, Palamedes, and Pyrrha don't really owe it to Harrow to keep her/her body safe. It's obviously a lot of work, the equivalent to raising a child, but Nona is never treated as a burden. And I hate to imagine what it would have been like for Nona had she been alone, she said she couldn't even remember to walk at first. And this is all over the series, Dulcie lovingly saying Palamedes invented the breathing tube for her. Camilla and Coronabeth caring for Judith when they were captured. Even in places that aren't tied to disability, a necromancer and cavalier HAD to work together to complete the challenges. The way both of the Palamedes' detective short stories depend on the help another person lends him. It means so much for a story featuring characters with a disability to emphasize that it is okay to need other people, that we all do or will. That you don't need to push yourself to extremes to keep up (Harrow has this mindset in both books and in both she succeeds the most with the help of others, not alone).

To go even further, it isn't just about helping one another, but the importance of not keeping a score. Don't think you have to make up an equivalent amount of help to someone else. One of the things Gideon emphasizes as the most hurtful in Harrow's rejection is the rejection of her help. Palamedes says that he feels bad for using Camilla for his agenda and she answers that it was never his agenda. Him needing her body was something Camilla would never think twice about giving. They would do these things because they love them. This is just me repeating themes but I'm so used to the Western independent mindset, and disability porn of "if you just try hard enough" this series is a breath of fresh air

[my-little-random-world]

Marta: No, Andrés, wait. It’s ridiculous that Jesús knows the person who can hurt me the most in the world, and... and you don’t. Andrés: Marta, you, you’re scaring me. No, really, if you don’t want to tell me something, don’t. Don’t worry, okay? Marta: I’m going to tell you because I love you. And because with Jaime, I learned that sharing secrets with someone you know who loves you too is a good thing. Andrés: I hope I’m up to the task. Marta: Ah, I don’t even know where to start. You see, I’m not the person you think I am. Andrés: What does that mean? I don’t understand, Marta.

Marta: It means I’ve fallen in love with a woman. And she’s fallen in love with me. Andrés: Well, so... Marta: Well, it just happened. I wasn’t looking for it, I assure you. That’s why I feel like it’s... that it’s true love. For God’s sake, say something! You’re killing me with your silence! Andrés: I admit I have a lot of questions to ask you, but I’ll sum it up in one, okay? Are you happy with her? Marta: I’ve never been this happy in my life. Andrés: Then there’s nothing more to say. There’s no time for you to answer all the doubts that are running through my mind. Marta: Thank you. Andrés: Thank you for trusting me. You have all my support. You know I’m a big advocate for forbidden loves. In fact... Marta: In fact, you lead by example? Andrés: Marta, there’s something else. Maybe I’m being a bit reckless, but do I know her? Marta: Of course you know her... it’s Serafina Valero. Andrés: Our Fina? Marta: For God’s sake, how embarrassing. Seriously, with how sensitive and observant you are, you hadn’t noticed? Andrés: Sorry, but what’s happening between you two goes far beyond my sensitivity. Marta: Well, what’s forbidden is forbidden for a reason. We can’t exactly shout it from the rooftops like... like we’d like to. Andrés: Yeah. Come here. Marta: You’ve got such a big heart. What would I do in this family without you, hm?

-Next Scene-

Fina: Good afternoon, Doña Marta. Marta: Fina... Fina: What’s wrong? You look so serious. Marta: Well, more than serious, I think I’m confused, to put it one way. Fina: Why? What happened? Marta: I was talking with my father. Fina: With your father? About what? Didn’t you make it clear to him that you only wanted to deal with work matters? Marta: Yes, well, he made me an offer that has nothing to do with work, honestly. Fina: An offer? Marta, my legs are shaking just thinking about it. Marta: He wants to buy me a house in the Montes de Toledo. Fina: A house in the mountains? Marta: Yes, a little house with a garden. He says it’s very close by but at the same time, uh, isolated. Fina: Are you telling me your father is trying to buy your affection and love so blatantly? Marta: I think the offer goes much further, because he emphasized that the little house is for me to live with whoever I want. Fina: Well, of course, it’d be missing more if he started controlling who you invite and who you don’t. Marta: You don’t get it. You’re not getting it. You don’t understand. He already knows that I would only go live there with you. Fina: No conditions? Marta: No conditions. Fina: Well... that’s progress, isn’t it? Marta: Progress? It’s a Copernican shift! He’s offering us a house so that you and I can finally be together! Fina: So, have you accepted? Marta: I was left speechless, honestly. I don’t know. Fina: Yeah, it’s normal. Normal that you’re speechless. I mean, knowing your father, that house could be a poisoned gift. Marta: Yeah, I... I know. But I saw him so affected by our estrangement and so sad that deep down, I want to believe it’s not some Machiavellian plan. What are you thinking about? Fina: Oh, Marta, forgive me! I was daydreaming. Can you imagine the two of us living in a house in the mountains, away from everyone and everything? Just you and me. Can you imagine? Marta: You know, for so long I convinced myself that it was never going to happen, that now, with it so close, I’m terrified. Fina: Well, that makes the two of us. Marta: So, what do I do? Do I accept? Fina: I don’t know. He’s your father, Marta. It’s your decision. Marta: Because if I’m wrong, it might end up being one of his tricks. Fina: Yeah, it could be. But you know him better. All I can tell you is that whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you.