#Time Management Training Sydney

[bombz-n-bluntz]

I need to figure out my docs name

[meazalykov]

rings rings rings

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: a joke in the community makes you come to a realization

the teasing had always been a lighthearted joke, something you and lena both laughed about. 

it started almost immediately after you two went public with your relationship. after you guys started dating in 2020, you guys decided to not tell the public about your relationship until a couple of years in. 

after transferring from barcelona to bayern munich in 2022, and shortly after lena’s second place spot in the EUROS– thats when the public had confirmation about the two of you.  

it wasn’t just the fans who started their relentlessness. your teammates had their fun, too.

your bayern and national teammates instagram stories were flooded with subtle hints—photos of you holding hands, captions about the "future mrs. oberdorf" and even cheeky comments from giulia and laura with ring emojis when lena and you celebrated your fourth anniversary. 

lea, lena’s best friend and your close friend, was the ringleader of the proposal jokes. every time you and lena were out with her, she’d find a way to bring up engagement rings. 

"so, lena," lea would say with a mischievous grin, "when’s the big day? or are you still searching for the perfect ring to put on y/n’s pretty finger?" 

lena would roll her eyes and laugh it off, but you could tell the idea was planted in her head. 

there were jokes during training sessions, comments during team dinners. when lena transferred to bayern from wolfsburg in july 2024– pernille managed to get the entire squad to start humming the wedding march when you two walked into the locker room together.

lena had told you her plan ages ago—she was going to propose during the winter of 2024. it was perfect. the winter break meant no football to distract you, just the two of you alone in the peace of the snowy bavarian countryside. 

you loved the idea, and though you tried to keep it out of your head so you could focus on football, you couldn't help but daydream about how it would unfold, how you would say yes without hesitation.

one day during the pre-season, before the olympics, everyone was cooling down after practice, some even joking around, when pernille and magda walked in with matching grins. they were holding hands and had the kind of look that hinted at something big. 

they exchanged a quick glance before pernille cleared her throat, immediately drawing the attention of the room.

“we’ve got some news,” pernille started, her voice light with her danish accent clear but laced with excitement. 

magda lifted her hand, showing off a simple but stunning engagement ring that sparkled under the fluorescent lights.

“we’re engaged!” magda announced, and the room erupted into cheers and applause. 

teammates rushed over to congratulate them, voices overlapping as everyone admired the ring and shared in the couple’s happiness.

amid the celebration, sydney, who had been stretching in the corner while scrolling on her phone, looked over at lena, who was smiling widely at the news. 

with a mischievous glint in her eye, sydney couldn’t resist.

“hey, lena,” sydney called out, her tone teasing making sure that the entire locker room heard her. 

“so, when are you gonna propose to y/n? or are you just going to let pernille and magda steal the spotlight?”

the locker room fell silent for a split second before erupting into laughter and more teasing. 

klara, always quick with a quip, chimed in, “yeah, lena, what’s the holdup? everyone has been waiting!”

lea joined in, a playful grin on her face. “maybe she’s just waiting for the perfect moment. or maybe y/n should propose first?”

lena felt her cheeks flush under the sudden attention, but she played it cool, offering a lopsided smile. 

“soon,” she replied, her voice steady despite the amount of teasing. “it’s gonna happen, don’t worry.”

the room buzzed with excited murmurs and jokes, but before anyone could press her further, lena’s gaze drifted to the door. 

y/n wasn’t there in the locker room, and she hadn’t been for a while. lena knew she had gone to check on ana in the medical area, making sure their teammate (who came back from an acl injury) was okay after a tough tackle during training. 

but the laughter and congratulations for pernille and madga continued to swirl around her, lena’s mind wandered to the ring she had already picked out, the one tucked safely away at home. 

she had planned everything, just waiting for the right moment to propose. 

but then the injury happened. an acl tear right before the olympics, a devastating blow to lena’s season and your hearts. 

you were happy to win gold at the olympics, but you were sad that lena couldn’t celebrate bronze with her german teammates. 

the surgery, the long recovery, the endless rehab—it took over everything once you got back to munich. 

and with it, lena’s plan to propose was quietly shelved. 

your taller german girlfriend even joked, with a bittersweet smile, that she wouldn’t be able to get down on one knee now, and you both shared a quiet laugh over it, trying to mask the disappointment.

it wasn’t long before the teasing at lena shifted.

“well, y/n, if lena’s knee is messed up, i guess it’s your turn to get down on one knee.”  tuva, with her sharp and sweet humor, was the first to mention it in the full bayern locker room. 

you laughed it off at first, just like lena had, but the teasing continued. 

more teammates joined in, some of your national teammates started to become aware of the jokes in germany and joined in. 

and suddenly, it was you who was being nudged toward proposing.

at first, you tried to brush it off, but there was something in the way lena looked at you—hopeful, maybe even a little relieved—that stayed with you. 

the idea took root, just as it had with her. it's been four years since you and lena started dating– when you were at barcelona and she at wolfsburg. you wanted her to be your wife. 

and before you knew it, you found yourself visiting jewelers, searching for the perfect ring. 

your pupils would have formed into a heart (if that was possible) when you spotted a delicate band with a single, sparkling diamond—it was simple yet elegant, just like lena.

you didn’t tell anyone about your plan. not tuva, not lea, not even your closest friends on the team.

it was something you wanted to keep between you and lena, a surprise that would catch her completely off guard. you didn’t need lena to overhear the teasing trolls that you had for teammates. 

the timing felt right as thanksgiving break approached—a quiet moment, just the two of you, away from the pressures of football.

the day you decided to propose, you could feel the excitement ripping throughout your body, but also a touch of nerves. 

lena had always been the one everyone expected to take the lead, since she was more of the “dominant” one in your relationship– but it was your turn first, and you wanted it to be perfect.

you planned a small getaway, just the two of you, in a cozy cabin nestled in the forests near munich. 

the air was crisp, the sky a brilliant shade of pink and orange due to the sunset, and everything seemed to sparkle in the winter light. 

you both took a small walk through a trail by the cabin. this was the first time that lena got cleared to walk without any cane or assist. 

this made you both happy as the two of you were laughing and chatting about everything and nothing. 

looking away from lena’s beautiful face, you reached the spot where you had decided to do it—a clearing with a view of the mountains in the distance.

you stopped, turning to face lena, who looked at you with a curious smile. 

she notices your face, you tried to look strong but your eyes showed something different. 

"what’s up?" she asked, her breath visible in the cold air.

you took a deep breath, smiling as you reached into your jean pocket and pulling out the small box. 

lena’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her, and you could see the tears starting to form.

“lena,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, 

“i know we always joked about who would propose first, and i know this isn’t how you planned it due to unfortunate circumstances. but i love you so much, ever since that wolfsburg and barcelona match. ever since then i couldn’t imagine my life without you. will you marry me?”

for a moment, lena was speechless. she stared at the ring, then back at you, her eyes shimmering with emotion. 

"y/n, are you serious?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"absolutely. i’ve never been more serious about anything." you nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. 

lena’s reaction was immediate. she threw her strong arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, her tears soaking into your neck and jacket. 

"yes," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "yes, a million times yes!!" she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes full of love and disbelief. 

"i can’t believe you did this. i was supposed to propose to you first." she held your face in her hands as she kept your body close to hers.

"well, you can still propose to me later, but i couldn’t wait any longer." you laughed, wiping away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. 

you slid the ring onto her finger, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. lena looked down at the ring, her hand shaking slightly as she admired it. 

"it’s perfect, y/n," she said, her voice full of wonder. "you’re perfect."

later at night, as you sat together by the fire in the cabin, wrapped in blankets, lena leaned her body on top of yours as her head rested on your shoulder. 

"you know," she murmured, her voice soft and full of warmth, "i was always going to propose first. i had this whole plan."

"i know, but i beat you to it." you smiled, kissing her forehead gently. 

the teasing might have started as a joke, but in the end, it led to a moment neither of you would ever forget—a moment that was entirely yours.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[quiet-onset]

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 

[barcaatthemoon]

down bad || lena oberdorf x reader ||

your teammates tease you about your crush on lena.

your mouth went dry as you looked at lena's post. she looked good, ridiculously good if you were being honest. it was embarrassing how attracted to lena you were at times. your teammates definitely loved taking the mick out of you because of it. however, you liked to claim that it wasn't your fault that lena was so hot.

"what are you going to do when she gets here next month?" sydney asked as she threw her arm over your shoulder. you tried to play it cool, but the thought had been weighing on you for quite some time. you had no idea how you'd function with that hot german constantly around.

"maybe if i stick with magda, we'll never have to talk to each other," you tried. obviously it wasn't a good idea as sydney started laughing so hard that she was falling over. "i'll think of something."

you tried to push the thought of lena coming to the back of your mind, and you were successful for the most part. that meant when you received the email about all of the new signings coming a bit early, you didn't have time to prepare yourself to see lena. you just walked into an off-season training session to see her in the gym with sydney, pernille, and georgia.

"(y/n), over here!" georgia called out. she knew exactly what she was doing to you. georgia was one of the worst about your crush on lena. the only one who ever seemed to come to your defense was madga, but you couldn't see her anywhere. "have you met lena?"

"not officially," lena answered for you. she covered your hand with both of hers, shaking it gently before bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. your cheeks immediately turned pink, and for a moment, your other teammates didn't exist. "it's nice to meet you. i'm lena, but you can call me obi if you'd like."

"(y/n)," you mumbled. she smiled, and you thought you were going to die for a moment.

"it's a very pretty name liebe," lena told you. you just nodded dumbly until pernille took pity on you and ushered you away. once you were away from lena, you seemingly snapped out of whatever weird little trance she had put you in.

"what the hell was that? you have got it bad for her," pernille said. you covered your face in your hands and let out a quiet little scream of frustration. "i hate saying this, but you are pathetic honey."

"yeah," you agreed sadly.

it wasn't easy, but you managed to avoid lena for the rest of the day. throughout the following weeks, you'd run into her around the training facility or the coffee shop that sydney swore by. whenever you'd see each other, you'd always smile and wave, but she rarely tried talking to you. you thought that you were done for, that lena just thought you were a little freak she was better off not associating with.

once the pre-season started, things changed a bit. you found yourself not hanging around sydney or georgia's because lena always seemed to be around. you felt bad for ditching your friends with lame excuses, but you had yet to get a handle on your feelings for lena. it didn't help that you now shared a locker room and gym space together, so you got to see quite a few of the selfies she posted being taken in real time.

"pernille is worried about you," magda said as she plopped down next to you. you glanced over at the swedish defender, who had been one of your closest friends since chelsea. she was like your big sister, only much nicer to you than your actual siblings ever had been. you were sort of on your own before magda came along and unofficially had her parents adopt you. "sydney said that you haven't been over in a month. your friends miss you, even the ones you haven't made yet."

"what the hell does that mean? why do you always say cryptic shit?" you weren't proud of it, but you were huffing and puffing. it had been a hard month, and honestly, you were done with people trying to convince you to go out after practice.

"i mean that lena wants to be your friend. she was asking about you, i think she likes you." magda nudged you with her elbow, seemingly giddy about the idea of lena having a crush on you. magda hadn't seen you date anybody other than jessie, and while that had been a good relationship for the both of you, things just hadn't worked out.

"she doesn't like me. she's way out of my league. things haven't been good for me since jessie, and i don't want to subject lena to that shit," you sighed. magda wrapped her arm around your shoulders and held you in close. "maybe i should have stayed in england."

"absolutely not. now, you look at me and listen, okay?" magda waited for you to nod before she continued, "you're amazing, kid. the first breakup sucks, but then you go out there and find someone new. you fall in love until you find the right person. it's rare to find someone who can look at you the way lena does without really knowing you. i have it on good authority that you've been talked up quite a bit. lena will be here for a while, just like you, so why not give her a chance?"

"when did you get so wise?" you asked as you wrapped your arms around the back of magda's neck. out of the corner of your eye, you could see pernille watching the two of you. "oh, that's when."

"i told you she's worried about you, and she knows that you'll listen to me. now, go out there and charm the kit off of lena," magda told you. she pushed you off of the bench, where you fell ungracefully onto the floor.

"magda!" pernille chided. she threw her arms up into the air as she approached her partner. magda let herself be dragged away as lena made her way over to help you up.

"are you okay, liebe?" lena asked as she pulled you up onto your feet. she didn't let go of your arm, holding you close as the two of you spoke.

"i'm fine," you answered. lena let out a small sigh, seemingly in relief. you felt your cheeks heat up as she smiled at you. there was a distinct lack of privacy in the locker room, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. "i think her plan the whole time was to shove me onto the ground."

"maybe, but look at us now." lena had a point, but you knew that you had to actually tell her that you liked her now. "i'll shove her later for you."

"definitely gonna take you up on that, but right now i think i have to tell you something," you said. lena was patient with you, waiting until you were ready to speak without pushing you there. "i think that you're really attractive, lena. i keep making a fool of myself around you, so i started to avoid you, but i like you. not in the way i like sydney or georgia, but in the 'i want to kiss you and am down terribly bad' way."

"hey, i'm a catch!" sydney scoffed. lena turned and glared at sydney, who promptly pretended that she wasn't eavesdropping. "sorry, go on."

"i like you a lot too. maybe after this we can get ice cream. i heard from a very reliable source that we like the same place," lena said. you caught georgia's eye from over lena's shoulder just in time to catch her wink. you smiled as you nodded, giving lena's hand a gentle squeeze.

"i'd like that, but for now, we should get to the pitch," you told her. lena nodded and let you grab your things. she walked alongside you out to the field, both of you falling into an easy conversation with each other.

…

"come on, get in closer," lena said as she pressed her body into yours. you weren't sure how you could possibly get any closer to her for the picture, but you let lena try. it was like this every single time the two of you went out somewhere. lena loved to show you off, even more than she liked showing off her own outfits anymore.

"lena, stop! you're gonna leave a mark," you whined as she started to suck on your neck. that wasn't the only reason you wanted her to stop, but if you admitted to being turned on, lena would never let you go. the woman could go from a complete gentlewoman to a teenage boy in an instant.

"you look good in purple though." lena pouted at you, but it didn't work. you turned to give her a quick kiss, careful to not linger too long in her arms. the two of you were meeting sydney and laura for dinner. it seemed that with every game came an outing with some of lena's german national teammates, all of whom were eager to meet you.

you had never thought that lena's feelings for you could have run in the same vein as yours for her. the attraction turned crush eventually forming into a budding love story. you had never thought of her viewing your stories and liking your pictures the same way that you had done hers. in hindsight, you felt stupid, but lena had been patient in waiting for you.

"please, do you want to give syd more to tease us about?" you asked. lena didn't mind the teasing as much as you did, but it bothered her to see when it pushed you too far. lena shook her head and promised to be on her best behavior for dinner where you learned how nice it was to not be the main focus on the teasing. you didn't think that you had seen lena blush as much as she did when laura brought up her constantly viewing your instagram page on international camps.

[cottonlemonade]

hello can i get a medium dragon fruit with coconut water for ushijima please. always with chubby reader. thank you!

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 744 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Ushijima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness

warnings: spoilers, mdni

request: fluffy-spicy long distance relationship with husband Ushijima

Toshi was the last person to stand in the way of your dreams and if that meant he was going to become the far away trophy husband to a gorgeous media relations executive, he wouldn’t complain. About two months ago - 44 days, but the loneliness made him round up - you had taken the opportunity of a temporary management position in Sydney. Your husband was confident that he could handle your absence for a while, but when he stepped into the apartment the day you had left and his usual call of “I’m home, darling” only echoed through the dark empty hallway, he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore.

The bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up automatically on his way home seemed to mock him now and so he simply handed it to the elderly couple next-door.

Upon hearing that the tall stoic man was going to be a grass widower for the time being they had promptly invited him over for dinner and you were happy to know that your husband, who was just about skilled enough to make ramen and pancakes, was taken care of. During your nightly calls, he would lean on the kitchen counter, hair still damp from the shower and absently nibble on whatever the kind neighbors had made for him. At least the time difference was no issue, he thought as he did the dishes - all alone, without you distracting him by hugging him from behind or playfully swatting at his butt with the dish towel.

It was the distance that drove him crazy. Not being able to play with your hair before falling asleep or pulling you on top of him on the couch as he watched a movie, letting his large warm hands roam over your indescribably soft skin, his fingers tracing the stretchmarks on your pudgy waist for comfort.

He had tried to distract himself by going out for drinks with his friends, but all he could think about was your mischievous little wink when your foot would “accidentally” brush his leg under the table.

Hoshiumi and Kageyama had looked alarmed when their usually blank-faced friend seemed close to tears after two glasses of wine.

He was at an open training with the national team about a week after your leave when it occurred to him that he wouldn‘t get to have sex with you for three months. Lucky for you, his fans kept you well-fed with thousands of snapshots of your sweat dripping husband from various angles, nourishing every thirsty thought you had about him ever since you boarded the plane. He returned to his phone during his breaks to find pictures, videos or voice messages of you touching yourself to the thought of him and Toshi would have to excuse himself to the locker rooms for three to five minutes before resuming his drills.

Whenever he was on the court, he now happily accepted the fine he had to pay for wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck. Post-game interviews were spent bringing you up unprompted, before the camera panned down to Hoshiumi who pushed him out of the way for a proper take on the match.

He only snapped out of his miserable wifeless stupor when Hinata excitedly announced one day that if they won this game they’d head out to play Australia next.

“Toss me all the balls.”, he said to Kageyama before they took their positions on the field. Hoshiumi huffed and protested - even louder when after momentary pondering the setter agreed.

The other team never had a chance.

All the way over in your Sydney office the staff crammed into the conference room. Having bragged practically nonstop about your husband since your arrival, your coworkers crowded around you, watching with bated breath how Ushijima Wakatoshi demolished the opposing defenses, breaking through with every spike like he was possessed. And after what was probably the shortest game you had ever seen, Japan’s fans (and the office) erupted into cheers.

Toshi ignored the reporters who all wanted a piece of the MVP and headed straight from the locker rooms to the airport, booking a last minute ticket from the back of the taxi. He’d buy clothes and toiletries once he got there. It was about 6:30 am when your doorbell rang. Holding up a bouquet of your favorite flowers you were met with your slightly out of breath husband.

“Toshi!”, you called, surprised.

“I’m home, darling.”

a/n: you definitely called in sick that day. And then next day showed him off to eeeeeveryone in the office. Thank you so much for requesting Ushijima! I always love writing for him. I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[taasgirl]

physical

summary: as barcelona's newest physio, y/n's job becomes increasingly difficult through language barriers and awkward encounters; until the guide of a few players assist her in navigating Spanish life.

author's note: i am not a spainish speaker so please don't attack me because this is all translated.

NOT PROOF READ. Sorry if there are any mistakes lol

Why did I ever move here? Although Spain is gorgeous, I miss Sydney far too much. And to even consider applying for a job as physio for Barcelona, delusional. But here I am.

Notes in hand, I make my way through the main building, approaching a desk occupied by two women.

"Hola, en qué puedo ayudarte?" The blonde one says, skimming my casual attire. "Hola, hablo no espanol." The woman straightens her posture and repeats her question, but this time in English. "Hello ma'am, what can I help you with?"

A deep breath, and I begin speaking, "Hi, I'm here for the role as general physio - I'm Y/N L/N." Quickly, the woman begins typing into her computer, skimming blurbs of information until she finds what she needs. "Welcome to the club Y/N, please take a seat while I contact the head physio." I nod in response and take a seat facing towards the television.

After around five minutes, a man appears from the corridor. "Y/N, Que tal! Please follow me." I leave my seat and follow my new coworker, Beau Martine. "How are you finding Spain?" I pick up on a French accent, pleased to not be the only non-Spanish person. "Ah. it's definitely an adjustment for me." I pause before continuing. "I thought I'd pick up on the language a little easier but I guess that's something that'll improve while I'm here." Beau opens a door, allowing me in first.

"Take it from me, it does get easier." A smile quirked the man's face, instantly calming some of my worries.

We're in a small, but manageable room. "This is your office Y/N." I take a look around, it's nothing flashy, simply a desk with two chairs and a cabinet. "It definitely needs some decorating, but here you will be completing paperwork and doing general admin." He continues "Your programmes and duties will not be run in here, but further down the hall in the recovery room." Beau points to the door, signalling a further examination of the building.

Walking a few meters, we enter a large room. Already, there are two physios, a man and woman, massaging and rehabbing players. I smile at them before Beau introduces me. "Saludos, this is Y/N, our new physio." Before the two could introduce themselves, Beau speaks, "Maylin and Christos are our recovery coaches, both specialising in post surgery recovery." They smile at me, while still attentively helping their patients.

"Training begins soon, so we'll head out to the fields to supervise the boys."

Once we arrived at the ground, I could feel the eyes of a few players, obviously aware of my lack of Barcelona gear, confused by my presence. Now, more than anything, I am grateful that I don't need an introduction. I am so totally okay with just standing and observing.

While another coach directs the warm up, I evaluate the players, concluding how absolutely beautiful some of them are.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn't watched edits of the players before-hand. But to me, that was simply all research. Throughout the session, my gaze found it's way back to a certain player. A certain player whose aura mesmerised me. Pedri.

Sharp but smart moves were a constant by him, and I was in awe by his calmness on and off the ball.

With about twenty minutes left, a player fell to the ground with a high pitched yelp. Immediately engaging Beau and myself to his aide. Looking down, it was Ferran Torres. He clutched his knee in agony.

I put my hand on his knee, evaluating any type of inflammation. "Vamos Ferran, vamos a llevarte adentro" (Come on Ferran, let's bring you inside). Beau and I helped him up, ensuring no pressure was put onto his affected leg.

Making our way into the recovery room Beau says to me "He's all yours, work your magic Y/N." I smile appreciatively at him while we lay Ferran down. Soon enough it's just Ferran and I, and I can feel my heart beating erratically.

I've never been this nervous to evaluate an injury before, so why do I feel as if I'm about to vomit everywhere?

Ferran, now completely quiet looks up at me. "You new here?" I nod in response, praying that he won't speak to me in Spanish. "I'm Ferran." He holds his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Y/N." His smile fades when he remembers his pain.

While I assess his knee, he continues with conversation. "Are you American?" I look at him, slightly unamused. "Not at all. Australian born and raised." I touch his knee causing a groan. "I know this hurts, but you've hyper-extended your knee."

"Joder." His only response. As I search for ice, he breaks the silence again. "You know, a few of the guys out there were calling you pretty." I look at him, slightly blushing. "I think it was Balde who said he'd get injured just so he could talk to you." My eyebrows raise. For such serious athletes, they sure do have interesting perspectives.

"Well I guess I should be lucky to be in here with someone who is actually injured." Ferran looks towards me. "So if you're a graduate physio, how old are you?" Almost instinctively I reply, "Twenty. I did accreditations for university while I was still in high school, so I was able to graduate before my peers." Impressed, Ferran tilts his head. "Hm, you're similar to Pepi's age." The next sentenced he mumbled, although I could perfectly understand what he said. "Probably his type too." I look up, pretending not to hear his additional comment.

"Who's Pepi?" At that exact moment, two players had walked into the room. "Joder Ferran, what happened?" Alejandro had walked over to his friend and immediately diverted his walk when he saw me.

"Ella es igual de hermosa de cerca." (She's just as beautiful up close.) I smiled nervously, not understanding a single word. Ferran responded, making Pedri blush "Es el tipo de Pepi." (She's Pepi's type.)

I've never once envied people for speaking Spanish, more than I feel right now.

"Sorry for their interruption, they're just a little curious." Ferran had said, playfully pushing Pedri. "Ale, Pepi, this is Y/N she's the new physio." Suddenly Alejandro gripped his hammy.

"Fuck I think I tore it." Instinctively I rushed to him. I went to feel his leg before he and the rest of the boys began laughing. "Just kidding querida." I awkwardly laughed before placing ice on Ferran's leg.

Ferran, Pedri, and Alejandro continued to talked while I scribbled an outline of Ferran's recovery. It would involve consultation regularly, with physical therapy to assist his knee. Luckily he wouldn't need surgery, which meant he was my patient for the next few weeks.

Walking to Ferran, I explained his recovery process. He would be out for a few weeks and wouldn't be kicking a ball for at least another two. He attentively listened, and by the time I had outlined what we would do in our meetings, Pedri and Alejandro were lifting him up. I helped the boys out, while making my way to my office to write an article of review.

After writing a page or so, a loud knock came to my door. "Come in."

In walked the head coach, Xavi. "Please, have a seat." I signalled to the seat opposing my desk, allowing him to sit down.

"Lovely to meet you Y/N." He smiled at me. "I know this is your first day, but here we follow tight procedures in terms of injury reduction and recovery." I nodded, allowing him to continue. "To my understanding, Ferran has hyper-extended his knee. And according to him, you've already began a recovery plan." Wait, was I not meant to do that? Fuck I should've talked to Beau first.

"If you have a plan, I'd like to see it." I turned my computer to face him. He skimmed what I had written. "This is great. You should be proud." Unknown to him, I had written plenty of recovery plans for hyper-extended knees. This was second nature to me. "Do you mind forwarding it to me? Here I'll write my Email and number down so you can contact me."

Camp Nou. It was stunning. The crowd, the lights, the atmosphere. All of it. I sat on the bench, next to Beau and Maylin, watching the game closely, ready for any disturbances in play.

Ferran, still sidelined smiled at me occasionally, it was good to know that I had a friend. His recovery had been going well, however I hadn't allowed him to begin running yet, it would put too much of a strain on his body.

It was an incredible game, close between the two teams, however, Barca was victorious after the ninetieth minute. Xavi huddled staff and players into a circle, giving a quick talk before the players went to the showers.

"¡Qué juego! Jugaste de manera excepcional, estoy orgulloso de este equipo." (What a game, you played exceptionally, I'm proud of this team!) God I needed to brush up on my Spanish if I had any hopes of understanding anything here. I looked forward, locking eyes with Pedri.

His hair was wet with sweat, his cheeks an adorable shade of pink. We held eye contact through Xavi's short speech, and I couldn't help but blush at the attention. He was just so gorgeous. By the time Xavi had finished his speech everyone dispersed. Walking away, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I realised it was Pedri.

"Hi." I shyly said. He smiled. God that smile was infectious. "Hey." We stood there for a few seconds until he began speaking. "A few of us are going out tonight to celebrate the win. I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

"Oh." I replied "I'm sorry but I'm going out tonight." It was true. I had agreed to go out for drinks with my barista. To me it was less of a date, and more of an attempt to make friends. "No problem. I'll see you around." He awkwardly walked away. I definitely just fucked up.

Once I had gotten home, I began getting ready for tonight. The barista, Elijah, was a fellow Australian, although he had been living in Spain for the past few years. I'd been going to the same cafe every morning since I landed in Barcelona, and once Elijah had picked up on my accent it was nothing but polite and short conversation about our hometowns.

Arriving at the bar, I found a seat right by the bartender. Now, I don't normally drink but today I wanted to let loose, I wanted to celebrate the success of my new job.

"I'll grab an old fashioned." The bartender nodded and began pouring my drink. Soon twenty minutes had passed and there had been no sign of Elijah. I pulled out my phone and began texting him, to no surprise there was no response.

As time passed, it became increasingly obvious that I had been stood up. After calling Elijah to no avail, I left the bar.

How shitty was that? To not even text and say that he couldn't make it... And especially considering that I am in a foreign country late at night. Classy.

Making my way through town, I noticed the flashing lights of a near by club. Similar to alcohol, I don't usually go clubbing, but with the amount that I've drunken tonight already, I deserve to at least check it out.

I get in easily and scope the crowd out. Lucky for me it's people mostly my age.

Walking up to the bar, I order a Margarita, swig the glass and walk onto the floor. The music was blasting a mix of Latin Pop and Old School Classics. Firstly my hips swayed, then my entire body. Soon enough I was dancing amongst plenty of people. All of which good looking.

After a solid ten minutes, I make my way out and successfully find an empty seat to relax for a few minutes. Fuck Elijah, this is already fifty times better then having a sophisticated chat over wine.

When I got back onto the floor, my shoulder was lightly tapped. I spun around. "Having fun?" My eyes focused on the figure in front of me. Then I realised who it was. Pedri.

Already tipsy, a shot of confidence sparked through me. "Oh my God! Pedri!" I hung my arms around his neck. "I'd much prefer to be out with you tonight." He looked down at me confused.

I began dancing while he stood their in shock "You're lucky you're a footballer because oh my you're a terrible dancer." I earned a chuckle as he placed his hands on my hips and began dancing with me.

"For a girl whose generally shy, I can't say that I'm surprised that alcohol loosens you up." I smack his shoulder. "Be polite! I'm pretty much your boss." He raised his eyebrows laughing to himself. "I don't think that's how it works Carino."

We continued to dance until we were interrupted by a loud voice and quickly removed our hands from each other's bodies.

"Y/N! My saviour!" For a split moment I sobered up and scolded Ferran. "You shouldn't be partying and dancing! You need to rest your knee otherwise you could end up more hurt."

"You crack me up, come on let's take a seat." I followed Ferran while Pedri followed me to the bar. We sat together, me between the two boys, and ordered our drinks.

"So, how was your little date tonight?" He nudged me. God I had forgotten that I told him about Eli.

"Uhh." I fiddled with my straw. "He was kinda a no show." Shocked, Ferran placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "Trust me, baristas will never be someone's soulmate."

"Speaking from experience Fer?" Pedri chirped up. "Hmm something like that." Ferran responded.

"Hey Y/N, I want you to meet my girlfriend Sira, I think you two would make great friends." Ferran stood up to find his girlfriend, leaving Pedri and I alone.

Pedri looked at me and spoke. "Eres tan hermosa." I responded, rather annoyed with his choice to speak his native tongue. "Enough with everyone speaking Spanish here! Like okay I get it, you all have sexy accents and think it's romantic to converse with me in a language I don't understand. I'm getting lessons okay! It's just so hard to be here by myself." Soon enough tears began to stream down my face. I need to remember to stop drinking after my second glass.

Naturally, Pedri pulled me into a hug, allowing me to let all my frustrations out.

I didn't realise how upset I had become about my time here in Spain. Through the facade of cheap eats and my dream job, I forgot who I really was.

"I'm sorry for annoying you Carino. All I said was that you looked beautiful." I blushed, still not looking at him. "You see, I get nervous around pretty girls, and you happen to be the prettiest that I have ever seen." He knew exactly what to say to get my heart racing.

"I miss my home too. Especially my mother." At this I look up at him. He wipes the tears off my face with his thumb. "But I understand. You've come here all by yourself to work a new job without anyone supporting you. You're so strong." He smiled at me.

"I think we need to bring you home, I don't want you be late to work tomorrow." I sighed as he helped me out of my seat.

"Do you live nearby? I'm happy to walk you home." I accepted his offer.

Walking through the streets of Barcelona, Pedri made sure to explain his teammates and their personalities.

"Ale might just be the biggest flirt so don't mind him."

"Oh trust me, I can tell." I replied, still wandering through quiet lanes.

"And your best friend Ferran, he's a nutjob but such a good kid."

"Isn't he older than you?"

"Eh, to me he's a brother."

We began to approach my apartment. "This'll be me." I indicated towards the building. "Would you like me to walk you in?" I shook my head, not wanting to keep him out here any longer.

He grabbed my hand as we held eye contact. "Maybe we could do this again. I really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. Even if it was a short amount of time." I smiled agreeingly.

Then it got quiet, we were both obvious to what should happen, so I leaned in. Immediately he took a step back.

Holy fuck he had just rejected me? Sweet talk all night and now he wouldn't even kiss me??

He looked down at me. "I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled awkwardly and took a step back.

God Spanish men weren't for the fainthearted.

"Are you okay Y/N." Looking up from my clipboard, Ferran was in my eyesight. "Yup, just slightly hungover."

"I heard a certain someone followed you home." He smirked while lying down on my physio bed. "Ha ha very funny." I sarcastically responded.

I began to unwrap the tape on his knee, making sure to not pull too aggressively. "I never got to introduce you to my girlfriend. Here let me find a photo to show you."

"Not now Ferran. Just let me do this." I snapped at him.

It had been two and a bit weeks since he originally injured his knee, and in my eyes, he was ready to begin training with the squad again, however with restrictions to ensure his safety.

"What's wrong doc?" He asked me, genuinely concerned.

"I'm just a little on edge." Continuing, "I don't know, I think I pissed Pedri off." Ferran laughed. "Yeah trust me you didn't." Sighing, I began to feel around Fer's knee. "You're all good to train." His face lit up. "Seriously!?" He was ecstatic. "You'll be doing a strict 15 minutes training to 5 minutes rest tempo. And no tackles yet. I'll talk to Xavi."

Ferran rose and gave me a huge kiss on my cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I smiled at him, happy for him to be returning.

Once he left, I headed into my office, writing an integration plan for Ferran, to give to Xavi. My door was wide open, and in walked Gavi.

I hadn't really spoken to him much before so I was slightly confused as to why he was in my office. "Hey sorry to interrupt, but we're going out to the fields so..." I stood from my chair. "Right, yeah thank you."

As soon as I had gotten to the ground my eyes found Pedri, luckily, he hadn't noticed me yet.

"Hey Y/N, is Ferran ready yet?" Xavi approached me. I gave him the plan and explained to him what I explained to Ferran. Pleased, Xavi took my paper and walked back to his squad.

Throughout the session I made my way to players, taping a few shoulders and ankles, massaging a few calves. Watching Ferran get back on the grass was a happy moment. Although he'd only been out for a few weeks, his comeback proved my competence as a physio. people now trusted me.

I noticed Pedri limping after an awkward tackle with Raphina, however he insisted to his coach that he was fine to play on. I however, noticed that he was in discomfort so I watched his movement.

By the end of training, Pedri was visibly in pain. Truthfully, I didn't want to face him so I avoided him and Beau in an attempt to not be assigned to him. But Ferran had other plans.

"Yo, Y/N. Can you check Pepi's ankle?" Awesome. I made my way to the boys. Pedri leaned slightly on Ferran's frame. "Come on let's get you inside."

Pedri seemed okay to walk in with minimal assistance, and soon it was only him and I in the recovery room. "Take a seat I'll get you sorted." He sat up on the bed as I helped him remove his boots.

"Please don't let this be awkward." I looked up at him after his words. "Strictly professional." I felt his ankle and evaluated the bruising. "It's not good is it?" He asked looking at me defeated. "I'm not sure as of right now but I think I need to bring in the doctor."

"What do you think it is?" He asked my naively.

"I can't indicatively say but I think its a tendon tear." I could see him cringe at my answer. "But I haven't done any tests so I can't say for sure."

"I'm gonna go find the doctor." Suddenly he grabbed my wrist. "Wait, I need to speak to you." The emotion on his face indicating that he really needed me to stay with him. I didn't respond, instead sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I wasn't lying when I said that I'd wanted to go out with you again." He looked at me sympathetically. "And I didn't kiss you not because I didn't want to. I wanted it to be at the right moment." I look around the room. The silence is killing me. "Now I know that I'll be injured for a little while but would you like to come around to my house tonight? There'll be a few of the guys over and I'm cooking." He smiled. That smile.

I couldn't say no to him but I wanted to keep him on his toes. "I'll let you know by the end of the day." Smiling cheekily he held onto my hands. "But first I do need to bring the doctor in, so hang tight."

By the time I had come back in, Ferran and Gavi were next to Pedri. Dr Nicholson evaluated Pedri's ankle as a torn ligament and sent him off for a few X-Rays. "Soooo anything happen?" Ferran asked me playfully. "No Ferran, now I need to get back to work and so do you. Get to the gym."

By the time I was packing up my files a shadow appeared in my doorframe. "Decided yet?" His smirk tugging at his lips, instantly causing me to do the same. "Good afternoon to you too." He walked forward to me, closing the door behind although not without some difficulties as a result of his crutches.

"You look pretty pathetic with those things. I don't know how you're going to be cooking." He took a seat in my spare chair as I continued filling. "Eh, I might get some help from one of my friends." God he was so flirty I genuinely couldn't keep up with this man.

"Now I would offer to pick you up, but unfortunately I'm in a bit of a predicament right now. Should I send someone to pick you up or would you like my address?" I could not stop smiling. "Send me someone."

I pulled out my phone. "What's your number? I'll send you my address." After we exchanged numbers Pedri stood by the door. "I'll see you later then Carino."

Okay so Pedri didn't exactly discuss with me what the dress code was. I knew that it would be his teammates and their girlfriends I seriously didn't know what to pick. Something casual? Something Classy? Barca merch??? I decided to play it safe and be comfortable.

I slipped on sweatpants and a white top and called it a day. Pedri had told me that I'd be getting picked up at 6:00 so I headed down to the street by outside my complex. I wasn't quite too sure on how the driver would know to collect me, but as soon as a reached for my phone a car pulled in front of me. I didn't recognise who it was, "Y/N?". I nodded and proceeded into the back of the car.

The drive was supposed to be thirty minutes, but a large pause of traffic delayed time. By the time I had gotten to his house it was 6:50. There were already three cars parked in the driveway and suddenly I felt an indescribable wave of nervousness.

So do I walk up to his door and knock on it? Or do I message him or do I try and get in. I stress too much.

Once at the door I knocked. It was loud enough to be heard from the story above, and soon enough the door was answered. An enthusiastic Ferran picked me off my feet, I made eye contact with Pedri.

"Sira ven rápido, ella está aquí!." (Sira come quick, she's here) While he ran to find Sira I met Pedri's gaze. "You look beautiful tonight, Carino." In an attempt to divert my blush, I focused on his ankle. "How are you holding up, does it feel okay?" Smiling, he replied, "You worry too much Y/N come in."

I walked into his home and oh my was it gorgeous. The ceilings were raised and huge windows adorned the frame. I can't believe he lives here.

"Everyone's just in the living room." As we walked in, I recognised Ferran, Gavi, Fermin, and the girl cuddled up with Ferran.

"Ayyyy she finally came!" Gavi said, raising his glass in the air. I took a seat on the couch facing the fireplace, and as soon as I had sat down, it felt as if I had found my place.

Pedri was in and out of the kitchen, cooking on an injured ankle while attempting to keep conversation. Bless his heart.

I had spoken to Sira a lot, and we had much in common. By 7:30 Pedri had called us to the dining room.

We sat down, a seat empty next to me (assuming it was Pedri's). He brought out the dishes and to say I was impressed was an understatement. Truthfully, I didn't recognise most of the dishes but by the looks of astonishment on Fermin and Gavi's face I knew it was impressive.

"Es una locura ver lo que te hace una chica bonita!" (It's crazy to see what a pretty girl does to you.) Gavi said aloud, cracking everyone up.

Pedri took his seat next to mine and whispered in my ear, "He said that beautiful girls make me do crazy things." My cheeks reddened, he remembered.

The meal was delicious, conversation was flowing effortlessly, you could tell that they all loved each other. Suddenly the chatter was drowned out as I felt Pedri's hand land on my thigh. I looked at him but he was still engaged in conversation with Ferran.

As we finished up, Pedri was banned from cleaning anything (specifically by me, doctors orders.) "Okay fine I'll take a seat, but I need the physio to check out my ankle so you're on your own guys." They all groaned in unison that I was allowed to rest.

He laid upright on the couch, signalling for me to place myself between his legs. Without a second thought, we were cuddling together, talking about our lives.

I found myself telling him about my home, and how much he'd enjoy it if he went.

He was playing with my hair and giving me scalp massages when someone walked in.

"Hey Pedri, we're gonna head home now. Would you like us to drop you off Y/N?" Ferran called out, the only one able to see what we were doing. Immediately I called out, "I'm all good, I'll grab a cab." Ferran smiled at us and the rest all called out their goodbyes.

"You're a great cook Pedro." His body jolted, shocked at what I had said. "I like how you say my name." He was so cheesy.

"Is that the only thing you like about me?" I reply in a sassy but playful tone. He knows that I'm trying to gage how much he likes me. "No, I also like how good you are at your job." I pretend to be mad, "Well with enough years of uni, anyone could be as good as I am." Standing up, I leaned slightly over his face.

"You're so beautiful that it hurts." Curious at what he said, I pry him for more. "I can't look at you, let alone in the eyes without my heart racing. You do something to me and can't tell what it is." He is going to be the death of men.

Before I had time to react, he kissed me, passionately. He held my chin in one hand, while both of mine reached for the spot behind his ear.

It was ecstatic, electric, nothing I had ever felt before. But then it ended.

"Wow." The only word that fell from his lips before we started laughing. By this point I was already on top of him, so I flattened myself on him as we held each other, shocked by our actions.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." I say to him. He looked at me with a shy smile. "What do you man Carino?" Embarrassed, I told him about my 'research' that I had done prior to accepting the job at Barcelona.

He laughed at me but found it 'cute'.

After some conversation, I found myself getting sleepier. I could barely keep my eyes open. I rationalised with myself, just a quick power nap then I'll head home.

By the time I had woken up I was tucked under white linen, puzzled by where I was. Soon enough I realised what had happened. I searched for my phone to find it charging by my bedside. 7:42. Shit I was gonna be late.

I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. I needed to get home. As I made my way down I found Pedri by the kitchen counter cooking up some eggs. "Morning Carino." He smiled sweetly at me.

"Can you call an Uber? I'm going to be late for work." Still smiling, he pointed towards the counter. "Sira brought over some clothes. I've also got a few Barca tracksuits if you wanted to wear that instead."

I looked at him puzzled, he still hadn't answered my question. "Gavi is gonna pick us up, I think he'll be here by 8 so you better start getting ready." Jokingly, I replied "You trust him to drive?" while picking up the clothes left by Sira and Pedri.

I was ready by 8, declining the eggs Pedri had cooked. I tried my best to look presentable with the minimal amount of beauty products left for me. I decided to wear the jumper from Pedri as it was an exact replica of my own one from the club, but opted for leggings that Sira had left for me.

By the time we had arrived to the training grounds it was 8:30. I was running late. Bursting in, I made my way to my office, writing up the plan I was supposed to make for Pedri.

It had been three months since Pedri had played minutes in La Liga. When Xavi waved for him to come on with twenty minutes left in the game, my stomach turned. I was so incredibly proud of him, but I was so fucking nervous. Since he was post-surgery he had no longer been my 'patient'. We rarely spent time together at work due to a clash of schedules, and barely went out. Only a few people knew of our situation and to not put either of our jobs in jeopardy we hadn't really defined our relationship, agreeing however, to be exclusive.

Although not officially dating, I knew how I felt about him.

Smiling back at me, Pedri changed from his warm-up gear into his match shirt, walking to Xavi who whispered instructions to him.

His entry to the field was applauded by a wave of celebration from the crowd. We were all so happy for him, although maybe not the away fans.

Tonight was decisive in the title race, Barca sat at 48 with Madrid on 50, a win would put Barcelona first. The game was tied 2-2, both goals from Lewa.

As we were approaching the final minutes of added time, Barca was building up from the back. Intelligent bounce passes gave them enough space to exploit, especially for Pedri. Frenkie raced down the flank of the field, cutting inside as he reached the box, carefully delivering a rolling ball. To Pedri.

The goal came so fast that everyone leapt out of their seats. We had got the points, and it was all thanks to Pedri. My Pedri.

Routine to his celebration, Pedri lifted his hands to make glasses, and while he ran back to the half for kick off, he blew me a kiss.

Undoubtedly the squad currently on the bench and the coaches spun around to see who his actions were for - my blushing cheeks probably didn't help.

When the whistle blew to signal full time, we all ran onto the field in celebration. Although it was a team that we were predicted to defeat, the number of injuries and tightness of the game really pushed the boys.

Making my way to the ground I went to find anyone to hug, I truly didn't matter who it was. But then I was suddenly lifted from behind.

"Carino!" Knowing who it was, I felt much more comfortable. As he put me down, he immediately picked me back up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He pulled me in for a kiss which was cheered by Ferran.

"Is it the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend?" I looked down at him and nodded. He again attacked my face with kisses, and when he finally put me down, Ferran, Gavi, Fermin, and Sira pulled us all in for a group hug.

I had found my family.

"So Pedri, firstly, congratulations on the return to football. It is understood that your process of recovery was tiring and long."

"Ah yes, although I am so grateful to have the club and my beautiful girlfriend supporting me through it all."

"Now, I know you may be focused on the goal and the win, but currently everyone is freaking out over your girlfriend."

He laughed, "Yes Y/N."

"The people want to know, how did you meet?"

"You all didn't see me blowing a kiss to the bench?" The journalist laughed. "Well it definitely wasn't to Gavi." Again causing a laugh.

"But in all seriousness Y/N is a physio here at Barca. She was the sole reason as to why I was able to perform today. Without her, I'd have no motivation, and would definitely not be ready to play a match."

"She has made my days so much better. Every session I spend in recovery and training with the team, is for her. I want to make her as proud as she makes me."

I think I'm starting to like Spain.

Thank you for reading!!! Please give me suggestions on any footballer and trope so feel free to request!!

[futfemfantasies]

For kyra, r isn't famous, doesn't play football, but start to work at the café kcc and all the girls goes to. Since the first time she see her kcc is down BAD, is all an awkward and shy mess around her and the girl at first are confused cause they never seen her like that but then they understand what is going on and after making fun of her help her in ask r out ecc

Hope you like it! Also thanks to @russo-woso for the help when I had writers block :))

Café crushes \\ Kyra Conney-Cross x reader

5:25am. It’s too early for anyone to be awake, let alone working. I reluctantly get out of the car and make my way into work. Work is a little cafe that my older sister and her wife own. They opened it about 3 years ago after moving over to England from Sydney. I initially came over for a holiday to visit but fell in love with London so I decided to move over and study over here as well. I unlocked the door to see your sister restocking the little pastries in the window while her wife was getting the coffee machines ready. I give them a quick hello before getting my apron on. As you finish tying your apron on, your first and regular customer comes through the door. 

A few hours later, a big group rocks up to the cafe and I smile knowing it’s the Arsenal girls coming in after training. 

“My favourite team, the usuals right?” I ask but notice there’s a new girl with them.

“Our favourite barista and yes the usuals. Oh Kyra, what do you want?” Steph asks, causing Kyra to pull her head from her phone. 

I look at the new addition to the team and give her a soft smile. Kyra seems to be shy as she kind of hides behind Alessia. 

“She’ll have a hot chocolate”

“No worries girls, I’ll bring those out to you soon”

Meanwhile, the girls go and sit on the long table outside in the sun and Kyra keeps looking at her phone. The girls keep talking while Kyra messages her best friend Charli.

Kyra: I need help

Cha cha: What’s wrong, you ok?

Kyra: No, some girls and I went to a cafe after training and we went to order and the girl behind the counter was so pretty. I froze when she asked me what i want

Cha Cha: Oh ky, you just need to woman up and ask her out! 🙂

Kyra: It’s not that easy, you haven’t seen her…

Kyra’s focus moved from her phone and to the hot chocolate that was being placed in front of her.

“And a hot chocolate for the newest member of the team” Kyra blushed and managed to get out a thank you without making a fool of herself. 

Over the next few months, I noticed the Arsenal girls coming in more than usual. Not that I’m complaining, Kyra can be a sight for sore eyes when the day has been unbearable. The girls again moved to the long table in the sun and I see Kyra and Alessia making their way to the counter. 

“What can I get my star striker and midfielder today?”

“I’ll have a hot chocolate and a muffin, what about you Ky?” Alessia asks Kyra. 

“Uh yeah, j-just a latte th-thanks” Kyra manages to get out. 

“Alrighty I’ll bring that out to you soon cutie” I wink at Kyra and her cheeks instantly turn red. 

Kyra immediately excuses herself to the bathroom and Alessia spills.

“I think Kyra has a crush on y/n and vice versa”

“How do ya know?” Katie asks.

“Everytime we come here and order, Kyra always gets all shy and awkward around her, not to mention the countless times she’s blushed over her. And y/n called her a cutie, with a wink!”

“So we try and help Kyra ask y/n out?” Leah asks.

“That’s exactly what we do”

Kyra comes back into view and makes her way to her seat. Everyone’s looking at her weirdly so she decides to bite the bullet. 

“Why is everyone looking at me weird?” Alessia tells Kyra and ultimately, Kyra confesses to her not so little crush. 

I brought out Alessia and Kyra’s order and added a little something to Kyra’s napkin. I walk behind the counter and see if she notices the little note on the napkin. An arm went around my shoulders and followed where I was watching. 

“Someone’s got a little crush huh?” My sister teased.

“Yeah well I put my number on the napkin hoping she’ll text or call but she probably has a more beautiful girl at the club or somewhere. Plus I don’t even know if she likes girls”

“Hey, you are beautiful too, don’t you forget it” My sister says holding my two cheeks before kissing my forehead. I turn out of my sister's hands to see Kyra leaving her table, wiping her eyes like she’s upset. 

Kyra leaves the napkin on the table and blamed that she felt sick, hence the sudden urge to leave. She walked down the street, wiping away tears until Kyra felt a hand on her shoulder. Kyra quickly wipes her tears before turning around to see someone who she didn’t expect.

“Are you okay? I saw you leave” 

“I- honestly no. I saw you with your girlfriend and - it doesn’t matter. I’m just going to go home” Kyra explained and started to walk away again, feeling as if the explanation was useless. I stood there confused for a second as I backtrack to my previous actions and realised where Kyra got confused. I jog after her and grab her hand, giving her a sweet smile before standing in front of her. 

“I think you got a bit confused. That’s my sister in the shop and she’s happily married to her wife” Kyra instantly found her shoes interesting as her cheeks turned a crimson colour upon hearing the explanation. 

“I feel like an idiot” Kyra mumbles.

“Hey no it was a misunderstanding. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve thought the same” I say giving her hand a squeeze and a small smile. 

“Let me take you out, as an apology?” Kyra offers with that cheeky smile of hers.

“I get off in about an hour, we can go after if you wait?” Kyra nods and I walk her back to the team. I ask her teammates if they want anything else and they all decline, claiming to have an early morning tomorrow with a gym session before training (or so you thought). 

A short while later I see the group start to split off and Kyra comes into the shop looking for a place to sit. She sits at a small booth that’s tucked into the corner, which turns out is my favourite seat. My sister built it for me when she first opened the shop so I had somewhere kind of quiet to study and have breaks. A nudge to my ribs pulls me out of daydreaming and I look over to see my sister’s wife. 

“Go bring her this, you can finish early” She says, sliding a cup with a neatly decorated milk foam heart on top.

“I only have half hour to go, plus I need rent money”

“Don’t worry about that. Just go talk to her”

I kiss her cheek before taking the apron off and carefully taking Kyra her latte. The saucer makes a small clinking sound on the table makes Kyra look up from her phone with that adorable small smile she sports. 

“A latte for the prettiest girl in the room, on the house” I say as I sit down and turn the love heart art towards her.

“I want to apologise again” Kyra starts but you stop her immediately, putting your hand on hers.

“You need to stop that or I’ll leave right now”

“Okay okay”

We talk for hours until I realise the shop is closing in ten minutes. Both of us say goodbye to your sister before walking down the streets of St Albans in the mid afternoon.

“Do you want to come back to mine? Movie and takeout night?” I offer, secretly hoping Kyra says yes.

“That would be good”

I arrive at the apartment building and intertwine Kyra’s hand with mine, making the Australian blush slightly out of sight. Eventually getting to your apartment and Kyra stands in the doorway, kind of awkwardly. I take her hand back in mine and pull her gently inside. She takes in the aesthetic and decor of the apartment and walks over to the photo collection of your friends, family and local soccer team championship wins. 

“I’m just gonna get something, I’ll be right back” I mention and Kyra nods before showing that adorable smile again.

I come back down the hallway and move over to Kyra. I saw her holding a photo of my parents and sister when they visited from Sydney last year. 

“That’s mum and dad, obviously you know my sister” Kyra giggles and puts the photo frame back on the little table. 

“Are we starting our movie night?” Kyra asks.

“Of course but first, we can’t have a movie night without a pillow fort”

Kyra and I spent at least an hour making the fort and it turned out perfectly. I quickly gather all the snacks from the kitchen my phone to order the takeout. Kyra gets settled in the fort first before I crawl in next to her. I suggest for Kyra to pick the first movie and she scrolls through and selects the Bratz movie. I roll my eyes at the selection and settle in for the movie. 

Throughout the movie both of you steal glances at each other, taking in each other's features and all the little details. Like the way Kyra’s hazel eyes shine in the fairy lights I hung up or how the freckles that line her nose and cheeks popped out due to the sunny day the past few days. I attempt to pay attention to the movie but feel eyes on me and glance at Kyra who looks like a deer in headlights. 

“Sorry” She mumbles, not taking her eyes off the screen. I put a hand on her cheek, moving her to look at me. 

“I really like you Ky, will you go on a date with me?” I ask nervously.

“I believe I asked you first” I look at her in confusion then remember back to the café and Kyra was right. I laugh and shake my head before realising Kyra is starting to lean in. I lean in the remainder of the way and our lips connect together in a soft kiss. Loud knocks on the door make us both pull away and move out of the fort to get the pizza and sides before returning quickly, the smell of pizza spreading through the fort. 

“This is going to be the start of something special” Kyra whispers as we both pick up a piece of pizza.

“I agree” I lean over and peck Kyra on the cheek and think that your life couldn’t get any better. 

[aliensupastar]

i wouldn’t ask you

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You try to break your promise. Carmy won’t let you. Follow-up to “shouldn’t feel like a crime”

Part I Part II

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food issues, heart-to hearts, arguments, swearing

A/N: once again, thank y'all so much for the love on parts one and two of this fic, it brings me so much joy!! also, im terribly sorry for how long it took to write this. school happened and i think it got away from me a little bit, i did a lot of rewrites, and it's shorter than i'd like it to be but it’s something i’m finally satisfied with, and i hope you guys enjoy it! to anyone who’s sent me asks, left comments or replies telling me they connected with this fic, i hope it continues to bring you comfort as it has for me. i can’t express to you enough how much all your responses have meant to me. this will be the last part for this lil series, but im grateful to anyone who���s read n supported it. title insp by "i wouldn’t ask you" by clairo, gif by riickgrimes <3

Logically, you know that healing — if that’s what you could call what you were trying to do — isn’t linear. You’ve heard it a thousand times, and on some level, you know it’s true. Knowing it doesn’t stop the shame you feel when you start skipping the train, opting instead to walk, or on shittier days, run to work. 

At first you thought you’d been able to escape the anxiety that came with eating anything you didn’t know the exact calorie count of, that you’d been able to eat Carmy’s spaghetti without complication. In retrospect, it had merely been delayed, the calm and warmth afforded to you by Carmy’s presence wearing off as soon as you’d gotten into bed that night; you’d laid awake for another hour, paralyzed by your own panic. 

The only solution you found fit was to force yourself into physical activity, making your travel to and from work ten times more miserable, waking up an hour and a half earlier than usual just to get to the restaurant on time and still have ten minutes to freshen up and change into your uniform. You at least managed to make the change in your routine go unnoticed, still looking presentable once it was time to open for service, or at least you thought so. 

“Did you run here?” Sydney asks one morning, spotting you right as you clocked in and rushed to your locker to pull out your uniform. 

“Uh, yeah, I did.” You’re a little too breathless to come up with an excuse, to properly deflect her concern and surprise. 

“Okay…” She watches as you shove your other belongings into the locker space haphazardly. “Does that, like, happen often, or-“

“No,” You say, too quickly, shaking your head. “Just, uh, don’t tell Carmy?” 

You look up at her, eyes pleading, hoping she accepts this one request without question, hoping she can disregard something just this one time. 

“Tell Carmy what?” Hearing your boss’s voice makes you jump in shock, as he comes around the corner and spots you, hair messy and sweat still dripping down your temple. 

Your skill for being unnoticeable is escaping you, that much is clear. You’re essentially caught red-handed, a deer in headlights, eyes bouncing between Sydney and Carmy as you struggle to come up with something, anything to respond with. But Sydney swoops in just seconds after you freeze, granting you mercy, this one time. 

“Tell you to mind your own business, chef,” She says, her tone light-hearted so that you know to force out a laugh, and Carmy takes it. He gives a half-smile and shakes his head, heading over to his prep station and as soon as he’s out of sight, you look back at Sydney. 

“Thank you,” You whisper as you head for the bathroom, uniform in hand, and she nods, still looking concerned but thankfully, dropping it. 

Carmy’s the one who won’t drop it. It stays on his mind all day, even after you’ve changed clothes and fixed your hair and erased any trace of the mess you looked that morning; every free moment he has, he spends thinking of you. 

He wants to believe that you’d simply missed your train. An innocent, easy mistake. But the way you avoid meeting his eyes during service hours, no matter how many times he tries to get your attention, or get you to just look at him and confirm that you’re okay, tells him it’s more than that. 

He rushes through closing duties that night, just to make sure he’s good to leave before you finish closing up the front with Richie. He waits, sits in his office chair pretending to be busy until he sees you heading for the lockers, ready to clock out, and then moves to lean as casually as possible against the doorway. 

“You want a ride home?” He asks, interrupting you as you pull clothes out from the locker; the clothes you were wearing this morning, he realizes, a sweatshirt and biker shorts. Like you expect to break a sweat on the way home, too. 

“Nope. Thank you, chef, I’m good.” You barely even look over at him as you say it, and Carmy has to stop himself from making a face, making his displeasure visible. 

“I really don’t mind,” He tries again, but you just close your locker door and shake your head, ready — and desperate — to change out of your uniform in the bathroom before it’s time to lock up. You put on what you hope is an easy smile, but it comes off tense.

“I’m okay, Carm, really. It’s not like it’s raining-“

“Chef,” He interrupts you, suddenly stern. “C’mon.” 

He nods his head motioning for you to follow him, and it’s clear from his tone that there will be no room to argue. 

You trail behind him while he locks up, and on the way out to his car, you can feel that frustration building up inside you again. The same resentment and irritation you felt in the hospital, when he wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses in the same way that nurse or your other coworkers would, it rises and rises till you’re gripping your backpack strap a little too tight and shutting the car door a little too hard. 

You’re grateful, at the very least, that he says nothing when tears start to spill out and down your face as he drives you home. 

You sit in silence for a minute when Carmy pulls into your building’s parking lot. You can’t bring yourself to leave at first, part of you still craving to savor his presence for as long as you can, even if the other part of you is too angry to even look at him. 

“You wanna talk?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope.” His question is enough to set you off, pushing the car door open and furiously wiping away your tears as you haul yourself out. 

Logically, Carmy knows it might be best to leave you alone for tonight. Let you calm down and attempt reconciliation tomorrow morning. Knowing it doesn’t stop the feeling that he can’t just leave you alone, and let you walk away upset. 

“Hey,” He calls out, opening his own door and moving to follow you. “C’mon-“

“Fuck you, Carmen.” You spit out. 

He’s undeterred, even if you don’t turn back to face him once, refusing to acknowledge him tailing you the entire way up to your apartment. 

You don’t tell him to leave you alone, to stop following you, to fuck off. You don’t even slam your front door in his face like he half-expects you to. Instead it hangs open as you storm into your living room, a silent invitation. An invitation Carmy doesn’t hesitate to accept, stepping through your door and carefully closing it behind him. 

He’s still wracking his brain on what to say, clueless on how to stop the tears flowing down your face as you toss your backpack down and meekly lower yourself to sit on the floor between your couch and the coffee table, knees pulled into your chest. 

“Will you just fuckin’ talk to me?” He finds himself pleading with you again after a minute, but his helplessness in the face of your distress makes his words come out callous, and you just scoff. 

“Don’t be a dickhead, Carmy.”

“I’m a dickhead? I-I’m the dickhead, for giving a fuck?” You lift your head to glare at him, and you can see that he wants to match your anger; all the tell-tale signs of an upcoming screaming match appearing in his features, scrunching up his face as he repeats your words back to you, and you know you’re not being fair. You promised him you’d let him in, allow him to help stop you from going off the deep end again, and yet you’re the one resisting him. You wish he’d let the frustration on his face overtake him, walk out your door and leave you alone with your mind. 

He doesn’t, no matter how much you will him to. His eyes meet your own, filled with misplaced ire, and all he does is lean his head back and sigh, running a hand over his face and forcing himself to curtail the urge to give in to your bait. 

“You don’t wanna talk, I’ll talk,” He starts tentatively, before saying maybe the last thing you’d expect: “I’m sorry.” 

Your narrowed eyes widen, the contempt in them turning to pure shock, but he barely notices. 

“I didn’t mean to- if I went too far, the other day, with the spaghetti. I didn’t mean to set you off like that. I’m sorry.” The absolute sincerity in his voice as he apologizes for something you know isn’t on him — it’s too much. 

You’d love to pass the blame off on somebody else. If you could find a single other person to hold accountable for causing the near-constant state of discomfort that you’ve been stuck in for weeks, the distress of living in your own body, you think you’d jump at the chance. But you can’t bring yourself to do it to the one person who’s offered to take the fault away from you, because even now, after you’ve lashed out at him, he’s deliberately gentle with you. 

You can see Carmy is ready to move towards your front door, you’ve sat here for too long without giving him a response, weeping silently. And maybe that would be the right thing to do after breaking your promise, letting him worry over you till he thinks he’s the one who owes you an apology. But selfishly, you reach up and grasp his arm before he can even turn to leave, gently tugging him down to sit with you, and he lets you. 

“I’m sorry,” You start once he’s settled next to you, your voice still thick with tears. “I know what we talked about in the hospital. I haven’t been- I fucked all that up, I know, I’m sorry.” He’s shaking his head, looking like he wants to refute you, but you continue on.

“I just… I’m so fucking scared,” You nearly choke on your words, but it’s a relief to get them out, and suddenly you can’t stop the rest from spilling from your mouth. “I’m scared of getting better. I can’t stand the thought of it, I don’t even- I don’t know what I’d be for, if I wasn’t like this all the time. And it’s fucking embarrassing. That’s all I feel, all the time, just- constant fear, and shame. I can’t fucking stop myself.” 

You take a pause, doing your best to breathe deep and avoid Carmy’s intent gaze, so you don’t lose your nerve.

“We were good, for a bit, and I wasn’t so… out of control. But then I fucked it, and I-I couldn’t just, tell you. Felt like, for once there was someone who understood, and I just wanted to keep the rest of it out of sight, I guess.” 

It’s the most you’ve expressed to anyone about this. You think maybe you’ve gone too far, that maybe now you’ll have alienated the one person you’ve been honest with in years. But when you finally look up at Carmy, he’s nodding thoughtfully, no trace of judgment or pity in his expression. 

“I don’t.” He says carefully. “I don’t really understand. I-I don’t think I could, uh-” He pauses, clasping one hand over the other tightly, like it pains him to force his words out, too. “I guess, growin’ up, food was basically a love language. It was how I bonded with Mikey, it’s why I wanted to do this job in the first place. So, to avoid food… I don’t think I can imagine what that’s like.” 

All you can do is nod. You shouldn’t have made him listen to you vent your emotions, you should’ve let him walk out your door-

“But, I’d like to try. If that’s what you want.” He says, interrupting your spiral. “I just need to know you’re safe. Shutting me out like this – it’s bullshit. I’m not gonna just- stop caring. Even if it’s ugly. Just don’t shut me out.” 

His earnestness practically shoots you in the chest, filling you with that warm, familiar feeling that usually comes with his presence. You want to push against it, you haven’t earned it back, it’s too damn much.

“Even if I… end up in the hospital again?” You say, trying to keep your tone light, but you can’t keep the pleading out of your voice. 

“I’d drive you to the hospital a hundred times.” Carmy replies, completely genuine, and now you can’t push back against the urge to throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, on the hard floors of your living room, arms tight around each other, breathing together. All you know is that you don’t want him to leave; he makes no move to go. 

a few people asked to be tagged on this part, so here you go! @rexorangecouny @moonlight-sonata99 @kpopgirlbtssvt

[katelynnwrites]

You Look So Pretty (Pretty Like The Sun) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: not proof read

word count: 2557

summary: after making your own name, you realise it's not enough because you are still missing your sunshine

a/n: i wasn't going to post this but i'm on a mission to leave all my bad writing behind in 2023 so here's part two of this fic

It’s with a certain amount of trepidation that you walk onto the Bayern Munich training pitch.

Both you and the facility have undergone a major change in the years that you have been away but one thing is the same.

You know when the love of your life is near.

It seems that the blonde can still sense your presence too because she looks up and visibly pales the second she sees you.

‘Sydney.’ You breathe but she shakes her head.

The German player’s eyes are wide and panicked.

You are torn between staying where you are, on the very edge of the pitch or making your way to her.

This is the closest you have been to her since the day she broke up with you.

Luckily or unluckily, your new manager spares you and calls your new teammates over so that you can meet them.

Seeing Magda and Pernille again is a welcome distraction.

The older women had practically adopted you as their own when you were at Chelsea and you sigh contentedly as they wrap you up in a hug.

‘I missed you two so much.’ You mumble.

‘I hope you’re prepared for dinner at our place tonight. You can tell us all about why you didn’t tell us you were coming to Munich.’ The Swede says.

Pernille gives her a fond swat, ‘Oh don’t sound so serious love.’

Conspiratorially, she turns to you and loudly whispers, ‘Magda just wants the chance to mom you again.’

You giggle at the defender’s immediate protests.

******

Meeting the rest of your new club teammates goes smoothly.

All except for one.

Magda and Pernille help with the introductions, easing you back into the Bavarian team.

For all your fame, you’re still shy so you are grateful for the help.

They’re not all new faces, most are familiar.

You grew up playing for the youth teams with Klara and Lea. Some others you know from international games or as opponents that you once played against in the Frauen Bundesliga.

It’s with laughter that you reunite with Lea, the older woman teasing you that you’re still shorter than her.

Your introduction does not last long but by the time you have properly met all of your new teammates, Sydney is nowhere to be seen.

And you hate how awful that makes you feel.

Maybe you didn’t make the right decision in coming back to Munich.

******

Sydney is still Sydney. That much you have come to realise. The blonde has grown up but at her core, she’s still who you fell in love with.

You are content to watch forever as she shines on everyone. There is never going to be anyone else like her. Sydney Lohmann is a singularity.

She shows up to training sessions just a fraction of a second early and drinks far too many coffees for her own good.

Her fancy footwork on the pitch puts everyone else to shame.

The sound of her laugh still makes you happy and her smile brightens up every room that she is in.

Unlike before, none of that is directed towards you.

These days, all she has for you is indifference and silence.

She doesn’t even look at you and from the only interaction you have had so far, the one from your introduction, the midfielder has made it clear that she doesn’t want you back at her club.

You try not to let it affect you or your performance.

The faking it till you make it must be working because you are all set to be a starter just two weeks after rejoining the Bavarian club.

******

Syd doesn’t start that particular game and it gives you an overwhelming sense of relief.

It’s already stressful enough to have to prove yourself good enough to start without adding on your standing with your former girlfriend.

You’re doing well against Köln and you’re proud of how you are adapting back to the German style of play, if you do say so yourself.

There is only about a half hour left of playing time when the blonde is subbed on.

She doesn’t look at you and you keep your gaze down.

Unfortunately, for her, her playing time is cut short. It is like a bad deja vu of her previous injury against Köln, a few years ago.

One second she’s jumping up for a header and the next she is on the ground, holding her ankle.

You hear her cry out and then you are sprinting.

Lina is already at her side and just before you reach her, you freeze.

Sydney doesn’t want you anymore.

So you stay away from her but just far enough that you can still see how she is.

It doesn’t look good.

The medics come on and it is agonising for you to have to listen to Syd’s pained whimpers and do nothing about it.

You are trying your hardest not to flinch when Lea comes up to you.

‘Go to her. She needs you even if she doesn’t know it yet.’ She quietly says.

‘Schülli…’

‘Go. I know you want to.’

Hesitantly, you approach the injured midfielder.

Sydney’s eyes are tear filled and when she sees you, she immediately stretches out her hand.

It is instinct for you to put your hand in hers.

‘You’re gonna be okay.’ You murmur soothingly and she closes her fingers around yours.

The blonde shuts her eyes, more tears escaping despite her best efforts.

You keep holding her hand until the medics signal that she needs to come off.

Your ex girlfriend cries even harder at that and you help her get to her feet.

The German woman stifles a whimper as she does so and you worriedly ask, ‘Do you want a stretcher?’

‘No! Please no.’

‘Okay. Lean on me then.’ You whisper and Syd nods.

She puts her arm around your shoulders and you wrap your arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

‘I got you.’ You assure her, as she limps towards the sidelines.

Once there, it is with great reluctance that you let her go, the medics taking over.

You look over at the bench where your manager is preparing the subs and you signal for you to be replaced.

‘I’m coming off too.’

‘No.’ The blonde snaps.

‘Syd this is not up for debate.’ You insist.

Your meaning and intentions are clear, making Sydney let out a frustrated noise.

‘No. You are going to stay on and be a star. Okay? Go be a star and play for us both.’

She squeezes your hand tightly, wanting you to know how much she means her words.

‘Are you sure?’

Your ex nods, ‘Go.’

‘Okay.’

Syd’s hazel eyes are filled with tears and she looks so vulnerable that you can’t help touching your lips to the side of her head.

‘I’ll score a goal for you. Promise sonnenschein.’

In running back onto the field, you miss the way she lets out a soft sob.

She doesn’t know if she cries harder because of the old nickname, the feel of your lips back on her skin or because of the way the pain in her ankle practically doubles once you are gone.

******

You keep your promise to the German midfielder.

Scoring not just one goal but two before the referee blows the whistle for full time.

Then you rush straight to the medical room where you had been told Sydney is.

You slow down, the clicking of your studs becoming quieter as you approach. Tentatively, you knock on the door before you open it.

Syd’s all alone, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Her injured ankle has been fitted with a moon boot and her face is pale.

‘Sydney?’ You ask softly.

‘Why did you come back?’

‘Because I wanted to check on you.’ You answer immediately.

The blonde scoffs, ‘Not here here but Munich.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You murmur even though your stomach drops because you understand perfectly.

Sydney’s eyes narrow with anger.

‘Don’t give me some bullshit answer. You were doing so well for yourself over in Barcelona so why come back? You left before so why return now?’

Her words are clipped, filled with more than just resentment.

You sigh. She still knows you too well.

‘You. I came back for you.’

Sydney’s face goes blank.

‘No. You came here to win the league. You have won the English and Spanish leagues. The Champions’ League and Euros too. This is just one more thing on your list.’

Wincing audibly, you take a step forward.

‘I came back for you. You and you alone Sydney.’

‘No.’ The blonde adamantly says, even as her bottom lip starts to wobble.

‘Syd…I came back for you. I promise I came back for you.’

You are pleading with her now, almost begging for her to believe you.

The midfielder searches your face for traces of lies, tears spilling down her cheeks as she does so.

‘No. No. You chose to leave and I wasn’t enough to make you stay before. Why would I be enough for you now?’

‘Sydney I never wanted to leave you. It broke my heart to leave Germany with how things ended between us.’

Raw pain is evident in your admission and now it is your ex’s turn to flinch.

‘Why didn’t you come back earlier? You could have played for Germany. We could have played together just as we promised to all those years ago.’

You shrug.

‘I was eligible to play for England too and you made it clear that you didn’t want to see me anymore. I know me being here is the last thing you want but I just couldn’t stay away from you anymore. Not when I never stopped loving you.’

Sydney loses the little composure she has left.

Harsh sobs wrack her body and she covers her face with her hands.

‘I’m sorry. I-I’ll go now.’

You turn to leave but the blonde chokes out your name and a plea for you to stay.

‘What?’

‘I never meant for us to break up. I never meant to push you away. Fuck I am so sorry. S-So sorry.’ Syd stammers.

‘Sydney what are you talking about?’

Your words aren’t unkind, just genuinely lost. The German player’s actions have been plain and constant ever since you left. They have been nothing short of obvious in recent times.

Sydney doesn’t want you.

The midfielder wrings her hands, her voice barely a whisper as she says, ‘I love you too. There’s not been a fraction of a second where I haven’t.’

You are floored.

Literally because you have to sit down.

You stare at her silently and the only sound in the room is your ex’s quiet cries.

Eventually her tears slow and she sniffles, looking up at you.

‘Say something.’ She breathes after the painful silence continues.

You don’t know what to say so you go over to her and sit down beside her on the physio bed.

Sydney is trembling but she tentatively wraps an arm around you, getting you to lean your head against her shoulder.

After a few minutes, you curl completely into her side and the blonde sighs in relief.

It is how the rest of the team finds you later, Lea smiling a secret smile to herself.

******

You end up going with Syd back to her apartment. She gives you her address and you drive her there in your car since she can’t do it herself due to her injury.

The blonde keeps stealing glances at you as you drive, wondering if she is dreaming.

She thinks it would be too much if she puts her hand on your knee the way she used to, when you were hers and she yours.

Sydney is so busy overthinking it when you slip your hand onto her knee.

You keep your eyes on the road the entire time but a smile forms on both your faces as Syd covers your hand with hers.

Neither of you have said a word to each other but that’s okay cause there will be time for that.

******

It’s after you have helped the blonde onto her couch and brought her a mug of tea that you realise whose jersey is framed on the wall of her living room.

The three lions crest is familiar, the last name and autograph even more so.

‘Sonnenschein that’s mine.’ You murmur.

Your former girlfriend sets her tea down and nods.

With growing curiosity, you inspect the match worn jersey.

‘From the Euro final in 2022.’ Syd confirms when glance at her.

‘How?’

‘I bought it at an auction. I think it’s the one you wore during the first half.’

You remember now, the England staff had got the team to sign the jerseys before sending them off to some charity organisation.

‘Why do you have it? I would have given it to you for free if you’d asked.’ You question.

You have so many of them that this is as good a place to start as any.

‘Because I was so proud of your achievement. Even if you had to beat me to win that gold medal.’ She explains, picking up her mug again just so that she has something to fiddle with.

‘And I didn’t ask you because I was afraid.’

‘Of me?’

You try not to sound hurt but it bleeds through anyway.

Syd’s hazel eyes gloss over.

‘Not of you. Never of you. J-Just how you would react I guess. Nothing like your ex girlfriend coming up to you after you’ve won your first piece of silverware for your country to spoil the mood.’

The midfielder lets out a strained laugh.

You frown, ‘You wouldn’t have. I wanted to approach you that day too but I didn’t know how. I thought you hated me.’

‘I could never.’

‘It felt like it.’ You softly say. She's, after all, been point blank ignoring and avoiding you ever since you resigned for Bayern Munich.

The blonde grimaces, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You said that I made you feel like you weren’t enough when I left for Chelsea. I’m sorry for that.’

‘You needed to leave. I get that now. Leaving Munich was the best thing for your career. Bayern might be my home but it wasn’t yours. I couldn’t see that at nineteen and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for letting my selfishness ruin us. I treated you the way I did all these years because of how guilty I felt.’

‘Sydney…you didn’t ruin us.’

‘Didn’t I?’ She hopelessly asks.

‘I played a part too. It wasn’t entirely your fault.’

The German woman looks defeated and sad. Her hazel eyes are downcast and her usually healthily pink cheeks are pale.

You sit down next to Sydney and take her hand in yours, ‘We’re not ruined. You are still here and I am still here.’

She squeezes your hand in hers, ‘A-Are you saying that you want to give us a second chance?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Your former girlfriend doesn’t need a second to consider it. Her mind is made up.

******

Sydney is pretty like the sun. You’ve always thought so.

Now that you have your sunshine back, you’re not leaving her again. She’s not letting you go again either.

German Translation:

sonnenschein- sunshine

[nolita-fairytale]

Carmy as your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part seven

a/n: may write a 'carmy & you as parents' headcanon. may also add another cute graphic/social post, however, for now... this is it, folks! enjoy our darling dearest baby daddy au which is pretty much just leaked dms between me and @carmensberzattos.

part six | masterlist

your life with carmy and baby bear:

first, baby bear has so many different cutie little nicknames: jo, joey, joey-bear, phinnie, and richie's personal favorite: toni-bear.

since you have the privilege of going on maternity leave, you do a lot of the day to day heavy lifting while carmy is at the restaurant. while he's pulled back a little at the restaurant, you know that carmy needs a little chaos in his life to feel at ease.

you parents decide to come to chicago to help with the baby for a few weeks. while baby bear's nursery is all set up, you don't exactly have a guest room. you're in tears over changing the nursery into a guest room last minute, so carmy enlists both richie, fak, and pete to do the job so that you don't have to. sugar and syd decide to take you out for a girls' day at the spa, and when you come home, you can't believe those four idiots managed to pull it off. (do i need to write this oneshot because i think i need to write this oneshot)

the proverbial 'they' say it takes a village, and it sure as hell does. you feel so incredibly lucky to have a village that shows up: marcus organizes a meal train and is one of the first to come over and spend time with his goddaughter; sydney is more than happy to pop back into shifts at the bear every now and then, just to give carmy so reprieve; and tina is ALWAYS down to babysit if she's got the time.

ava, richie's daughter is obsessed with baby bear, and is so excited that she finally has some cousins to play with. "boys are gross" -- ava, about baby michael and why she likes baby bear more lmao.

some nights, when baby bear wakes up in the middle of the night, it's not technically his 'turn' but carmy insists on getting up to put baby bear back to sleep. one restless night of sleep, you wake up to the sound of him watching anthony bourdain's no reservations. when you bring it up later that morning, carmy confesses to you that it's the only thing that will get her back down because he used to turn it on when you fell asleep, instead of the classical music you insisted was better for the baby while you were pregnant with her. while you pretend to be upset, you usually thank carmy for getting up when it's 'not his turn' with morning head that you're more than happy to give him before he goes off to work.

you always have a go-to table when you and baby bear go visit daddy at the bear, and no matter what, he always makes it a point to come out and say hello to the both of you.

while the first few months you and carmy both survive on nothing but takeout, meal trains, and stuff carmy's brought home for the restaurant, he diligently meal preps week after week for baby bear by making her homemade baby food packs. "you sure you don't mind? we can always pick something up from the store, babe?" you ask him. "no, it's just like a puree. i got this."

on the days that you're purely exhausted and at your wit's end, you and sugar commiserate via text and sometimes facetime, because you're not sure how she's doing life with a new baby AND another baby on the way.

the night before you go back to work, you spend most of the evening sobbing because you're simultaneously ready and exhausted, while you can't imagine being away from baby bear either. but you go back on a hybrid schedule, two days in office, three at home, so it helps, even though it's still a huge adjustment.

on the days that you are in office, carmy takes those days off, wanting to pull his weight as you guys go through this transition.

carmy is an amazing dad, something he wasn't sure he could be, considering he barely grew up with one. he's surprisingly patient and he's totally in love with baby bear. like the day she was born it broke his heart into pieces because it broke open an entirely different kind of love that he wasn't sure he was capable of.

even though it's hard work, you and carmy both agree that this is the best decision you've ever made together and carmy can't get over the idea of trying for another soon. "let me take a nap first, and then we can talk. unlike you, the rest of us can't survive on 30 mins of sleep, babe," you tease him.

okay hear me out: when baby bear is a toddler, the two of you love spending saturday mornings either going to the farmer's market, or picking up mochi donuts (think: the cute kinds with little animal faces) to bring back to the restaurant and share with daddy, even though he's slammed with brunch service. baby bear comes running into the restaurant on the sweetest, chubby little legs and richie, fully in his suit picks up her and spins her around while greeting her with her signature nickname: toni bear!

eventually, you and carmy move out of the apartment and start renting a house that you plan on renting for the long term. you're not entirely sure either of you want to be home owners yet, but you're anxious to get baby bear into the garden with you as soon as possible. baby bear spends the early spring planting fruits and veggies with mom, and the late spring/summer when they're ready to harvest in the kitchen with dad. neither of you have strong feelings about baby bear becoming a chef, but you do want her to understand the ritual and special place that food plays in your lives.

hosting big outdoor dinner parties for the whole framily. when she gets a little older, baby bear and baby michael run around while ava goes through her 'too cool for school' phase. any and everyone is invited, and for once, for both carmy and nat, it feels like being a berzatto isn't such a curse.

[middlingmay]

May I request HUG from the tackle prompts, for Clegan? 🥰

[ HUG ]: sender tackles the receiver to the ground in their enthusiasm to give them a hug.

Hello! Took me a wee while to get to this one, sorry, but it was a great chance to dive back into my Footballer!John AU.

Taken from this prompt list.

Hope you like it!

EGAN TACKLES LATEST CHALLENGE

Newly-minted Arsenal midfielder John “Bucky” Egan showed off his tackling skills at Heathrow Airport yesterday. His promotion to the Champions League came with high emotions as he was reunited with his reporter boyfriend Gale Cleven, who covered Spain’s recent win in the Women’s World Cup. The couple were seen canoodling outside a trendy bar in Sydney in the early weeks of the tournament, before Egan returned the UK to embark on his new training regime. A tried and tested asset in the defensive midfield, Arsenal manger Mikel Arteta is rumoured to consider a move to a forward position…

John chuckles as he folds the paper and tosses it beside him on the couch. He knew they’d cause a stir with his display yesterday, but he hadn't cared then and he doesn't care now.

Over a month without Gale had been awful.

The nature of both their jobs demand time apart, a few days here, a week there. No biggie. And when Gale had told him his news outlet wanted him to cover the Women’s World Cup in Australia and New Zealand, John had foolishly thought this would be no different.

He’d been thrilled for Gale. John knew he wanted out of sports journalism, and was starting to dip his toe into STEM reportage and was impressing all the right people, but the World Cup was a huge privilege, a huge responsibility, a huge pay cheque, and a great opportunity to travel somewhere Gale might not have went otherwise.

Or John.

Timing’s wise, it wasn’t great. Summer fixtures were in full swing, but he’d managed to bag two full days in Sydney with Gale. They’d been a glorious sun-bleached daydream of exploring the city, enjoying some good football, and taking advantage of every opportunity he had to put hands all over his boyfriend.

Gale hadn't been able to see him to the airport because he had to be at the Allianz Stadium early. But when he saw him off at the door of his hotel, his eyes had gone uncharacteristically bright and John’s heart broke a little to realise that Gale was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” John dropped his duffle bag and swept Gale into his arms; their fifth hug in the last ten minutes. “What’s all that for?”

Gale had burrowed his head into the curve between John’s neck and his shoulders. Those long, strong fingers of his grasped at his shoulder blades tight and bunched up John’s jacket.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Stupid.”

John had pushed him back, cupped Gale’s face under his jaw and made him look at him. “Nothing about you is stupid. I’m gonna miss you, too.”

John had kissed him then, and didn’t stop until his phone buzzed angrily, his ride to the airport beckoning.

Gale had laughed at himself and gently pushed John away. “Go on, get. Some of us have actual work to do.”

John hadn’t got why Gale had been so upset then, but he does now. Waiting a whole month to see Gale, touch Gale, smell Gale was torture. The only thing that had gotten him through it, asides from their texting and phone calls and video calls, was throwing himself head first into practice. He was the first in and last out, every day. He worked his body so hard, he just had enough energy to eat and talk to Gale before he fell into bed to rinse and repeat.

So, when the World Cup was over and Gale was coming home, John had insisted on picking him up at the airport.

*

John can see over the top of everyone perfectly fine, thanks to the long legs and tall frame he inherited from his dad. But that doesn’t stop him from straining to stand on the tip top of his toes every few seconds.

He looks every which way at the gate, tries to see through the stupid narrow windows on the doors to get his first glimpse of Gale in the flesh. But he stays stubbornly absent.

John’s dimly aware of the looks and murmuring around him. But every time he starts to tun in a pay some attention, he thinks he sees something move where Gale’s plan is due to disembark and he’s back on his toes, craning his neck. He’s one single minute away from jumping in the air like a five-year-old to try and see even further, he swears to God.

Then, finally, the doors swing open and a flood of people swarm through. There are families lugging tired kids; there are sunburnt, hungover teenagers and twenty-something-year-olds; there are leather-skinned retirees, crisply-outfitted business folks. And then, finally through the throng, John spots him.

He’s always thought Gale was the most beautiful person on the plant. He thinks he’s beautiful in his suits he wears for work. He thinks he’s beautiful in the sweats and t-shirts he wears at home. He thinks he’s beautiful in those stupid slipper socks he wears because his feet get cold at night.

But right now, he’s never looked better. He’s exhausted, John can tell; he hasn’t slept on the plane. The shadows under his eyes are purplish. His skin is pale, his hair is unbrushed. His clothes are wrinkled. But he walks tall, looking over the crowd and scanning, scanning, until—

His whole face, whole body, slumps with relief when he spots John.

And that’s just too much for John to take.

Legs strong and conditioned for exactly this task, John pelts forward, weaving through holiday-makers, dodging wheely-cases, not breaking stride for a second. They all pass him by in a multicolour blur as he runs for Gale. Gale only has time to drop his bag before John lands. Between his momentum and Gale's tiredness, they’re careening down to the floor, John’s hand protecting Gale’s head as the rest of him lays sprawled over his boyfriend.

They hear tittering and clicking but John cannot care less. He beams at Gale, thrilled just to drink in the sight of him, and he gets his favourite Gale smile: eyes looking up through his lashes, cheeks high, like he’s trying not to smile but just can’t help himself around John.

John rubs their noses together. “Hi.”

And to John’s surprise, Gale kisses him; a brush of his lips that John follows and presses into, just enough to feel the fullness of those lips he’d dreamt about, before letting Gale retreat.

“Hi. Now let me up.”

John bounds up, and plucks Gale up off the floor easy with two hands. He takes his bag too and all but drags him out of the airport to the car waiting outside. They have to get home. Like, yesterday.

*

A cup of coffee appears over John’s shoulder.

“You’re up.” He takes the cup from Gale with a kiss to his jaw.

“Mm. Didn’t have anyone to stay in bed for.” Gale joins John on the sofa, his back against the arm and his legs thrown over John’s. “Saw something interesting on my phone though.”

He fishes his barely-used personal phone from his pocket (John’s surprised he actually knows where it is, today. He doesn’t normally), presses a few buttons and passes it to John.

On the small rectangular screen is the site for a gossip rag. On it’s sports section, it leads with the headline: See what Bucky did to his boyfriend in PUBLIC!

“Oh, come on,” John scoffs, nearly sloshing coffee over the lip and onto the sofa. “That makes it sounds like I was…pushing you around or something.”

“You literally pushed me over.” John poked him. “There’s more. The Daily Mail, always a classic.”

‘Tackled’ Pink: Egan humiliates boy toy.

John groans in second-hand embarrassment. “Their puns are getting worse. That barely makes sense. And I’m sorry—boy toy?”

“Excuse you: humiliated boy toy, I think you’ll find.”

John makes to hand the phone back but Gale just nods at it. “Look who wrote it.”

A quick scan of the article reveals the name. “Ulrich Haussmann?! That prick who got drunk at your last mixer and asked to be our third?”

Gale snickers into his own cup of coffee and cocks his head, his blue eyes alight with mirth as he gazes at John. “He only asked that because I was there. He was lookin’ at you all night. Swear his eyes never went north of the equator.”

John gags at Gale’s teasing. “Rather grate off my own dick, no thank you.”

Gale puts down his coffee. “Now why did you have to say a thing like that?” He slips from the sofa to kneel on the floor between John’s legs. Drawing his nose up the inseam of John’s thighs (he's borderline obsessed with them and John can't get enough of it), Gale places a clothed kiss over the crotch of John’s pyjama shorts and gives him a brief nuzzle. “Don’t worry baby,” he says to John’s groin. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

It is so utterly ridiculous, the goofy, silly side of Gale he doesn't let anyone else see but John, that John has them toppling over again, landing on the cushioned rug of their living room instead of the hard screed of the airport.

Nose to nose, John grins and says, “You happier to see me or him, here?”

Gale shimmies his shoulders and screws up his face that way that wrinkles his nose. “Fifty-fifty.”

“I’ll take it.”

[meazalykov]

nobody's type

sydney lohmann x reader

summary: people wonder why you don't want to make the first move..

warnings: insecurities, overall sadness

you stand at the edge of the pitch, the crisp air nipping at your skin as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the bayern munich training ground in a soft, golden glow. 

the stadium lights flicker on one by one, their harsh brightness chasing away the twilight shadows. 

training has ended, and most of your teammates have already made their way inside, but you linger, your feet rooted to the spot as your gaze settles on sydney. 

she’s the last to leave, her laughter ringing out like music as she jokes with a few others– tuva and pernille– who stayed behind. she looks so at ease, so effortlessly beautiful, that it makes your chest tighten with something achingly familiar—a longing that you’ve carried in silence for far too long.

it’s not that you don’t want to talk to her. it’s that you can’t. every time you think about approaching her, the words you want to say dissolve on your tongue, replaced by the bitter taste of insecurity. 

sydney, with her easy confidence and radiant smile, seems like she belongs in a world far removed from yours. sometimes you wonder how you ended up on the same team as her. she’s someone who could have anyone she wanted, someone who would never look twice at someone like you. at least, that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

after transferring from spurs to bayern munich in 2023, you found a bit of relief. you’ve always struggled with this feeling of inadequacy, this deep-rooted belief that you’re not attractive enough, not interesting enough, not enough in any way that matters. 

you had confidence in your football ability as a striker– but still— you’re awkward and quiet, always feeling out of place even among people who know you best. you’ve never quite managed to shake the feeling that you’re somehow less than everyone else, that the flaws you see when you look in the mirror are just as obvious to everyone around you.

the idea of someone like sydney seeing you—really seeing you—fills you with a fear so intense it’s paralyzing.

so you keep your distance, blending into the background, watching her from afar like you have for months now. 

you’ve learned to be careful, to avoid letting your gaze linger on her for too long when she’s nearby. but even then, it’s like your eyes are drawn to her, seeking her out without you even realizing it. 

you watch the way she laughs, the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about, the way she moves with a grace that seems effortless. and every time you do, that same painful ache settles in your chest, a constant reminder of everything you want but can never have.

you’ve spent countless nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling as your mind replays every interaction you’ve ever had with her. you analyze every word, every glance, every smile, searching for some hint that maybe, just maybe, she feels the same. 

but then the doubt creeps in, the voice in your head reminding you of all the reasons why that’s impossible. you’re not good enough for someone like sydney. you’re too plain, too shy, too broken. and so you push the hope away, bury it deep down where it can’t hurt you anymore, even though you know it’s still there, waiting to resurface the next time you see her.

the sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see georgia walking toward you. 

she’s one of the few people who seems to notice when you’re struggling, and even though you appreciate her concern, it also makes you feel exposed, like she can see all the things you’re trying so hard to hide.

“y/n,” she says softly, coming to a stop beside you. “you know your crush on sydney is pretty obvious to everyone, right?”

your heart skips a beat, panic flaring in your chest. “what? no, it’s not… i mean, it’s not like that,” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush as you try to deny it. 

but georgia just gives you a look, one that says she knows exactly what’s going on.

“it’s okay,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “but, y/n, you’re selling yourself short. sydney likes you. you’re attractive and she sees that but she’s been waiting for you to make a move.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, disbelief washing over you. 

you shake your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you try to process what she’s saying. 

“there’s no way she could like me. i’m… i’m not enough. not for someone like her.”

georgia’s expression softens, her eyes full of sympathy and frustration. “y/n, you’re more than enough. you’re caring, talented, and honestly, anyone would be lucky to have you. but you keep convincing yourself that you’re not worthy of love, and that’s not true.”

you want to believe her, you really do. but the voice in your head—the one that’s been there for as long as you can remember, whispering that you’re not good enough, not pretty enough, not worth anyone’s time—drowns out her words. 

you look away, your gaze drifting back to sydney, who’s now slinging her bag over her shoulder, ready to head inside. the idea of walking up to her, of telling her how you feel, seems impossible. 

you’ve spent so long building these walls around your heart, convinced that no one could ever love you for who you really are, that the thought of tearing them down is terrifying.

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” you whisper, the fear creeping into your voice. it’s the fear that’s been holding you back all this time, the fear that if you let her in, she’ll see all the things you hate about yourself and turn away.

georgia sighs, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’ll never know unless you try. but, y/n, you’ve got to stop tearing yourself down. you’re incredible, and it’s time you start seeing that.”

her words resonate with you, but the insecurities that have rooted themselves in your heart are stubborn. they cling to you, wrapping around your thoughts like vines, choking out any glimmer of hope. 

you want to be the person georgia thinks you are, the person who’s brave enough to take a chance, but every time you try to take a step forward, the doubts pull you back. they remind you of every time you’ve been overlooked, every time you’ve been hurt, every time you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not worthy of love.

you watch as sydney disappears through the doors, the opportunity slipping through your fingers once again.

you can feel georgia’s gaze on you, a mix of concern and sadness in her eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to meet it. instead, you stay silent, trapped in the fear that has held you back for so long, wishing you could be someone different—someone who could believe in themselves, someone who could believe that they’re worthy of love.

as the last traces of daylight fade and the stadium lights cast their artificial glow across the field, you turn to follow your teammates inside. the weight of your unspoken feelings, of your unfulfilled desires, settles heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever find the courage to break free from the chains of your own self-doubt. 

for now, all you can do is hope that one day, you’ll find the strength to see yourself the way georgia does, the way sydney might if you ever gave her the chance. 

but until then, you’ll keep your distance, hiding behind that brick wall you’ve built, afraid to let anyone meet the real you.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[ciaomarie]

Part 1: What then?

Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.

Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.

Location: The Bear

Time: 10:05 a.m.

The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.

"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.

Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.

He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."

Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"

He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".

Natalie resumed.

"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."

The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.

"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."

"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.

The next went to Tina.

"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"

Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.

The next question went to Marcus.

"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."

The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.

The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.

Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.

"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."

She kept her eyes plastered on the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.

"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.

Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.

"Yo cuz, pick a question!"

He startled and drew a question.

"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."

It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.

After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.

She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?

UH OH.

[heavenbarnes]

I’m no good on my own

Sydney Adamu x female reader

Warnings/contains: swearing, mentions of knives, syd is still an awkward-munch, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, fingering, syd is gentle when you cum, defiling carmy’s desk, blasphemy

Part one: Already better for knowing you

I’m so glad everyone wants to fuck Sydney as much as I do, means I get to write stuff like this. Maybe one day I won’t write her as an awkward-munch but today is not that day

Yeah, completely fucked.

Sydney is a good chef, a great chef even. She’s calm and methodical, balanced and driven. She’d even pride herself in her ability to teach.

But that was before the greatest challenge of her career.

You.

Carmy had been right to have that smarmy little grin on his face when he wished her luck with training her new little sous chef.

This was fucking torture.

If Sydney was good teacher, you were an even better student. Bright-eyed and attentive, eager and willing.

She could almost always find you right on her shoulder, watching her hands as they shifted around the kitchen bench. It was like a warm glow of sunlight, prickling over her skin and making the hairs on her arms stand up.

It should’ve been what she wanted. It shouldn’t be an issue. An attentive sous who followed her every word and was so quick to please?

To Sydney, that was nearly lethal.

“And that’s what it should look like plated.” Syd ran the corner of her cloth along the rim of the plate, sliding it in front of you.

Eagerly pulling the plate closer, you leant in to savour the aroma permeating from the dish. “God, Sydney.”

The way you spoke on the exhale, like her name was a sigh that you’d been holding in all day. It made her stand up straighter, the tips of her ears running hot.

Taking a spoon from the basket, you managed to scoop the perfect bite on your first go. Sydney braced for impact, the sounds and face you’d make when you tried her food.

Lips closing around the spoon, eyes shutting gently as you let all flavours roll across your tongue. Your eyes fluttered open as you swallowed the mouthful, immediately meeting Syd’s expectant gaze.

“I haven’t taste something this good since the institute days,” You hummed, corner of your mouth turning up. “Since you last cooked for me.”

Sydney couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were standing in the dingy little kitchen of her even dingier apartment.

It wasn’t as if you cared what her home looked like, you just looked so damn pleased to be there. You looked even happier as you glanced over at the pan she was handling.

“I don’t know why the rest of us try when there’s you, Syd.” You remarked over the lip of your glass.

She hadn’t let you lift a finger, even pouring your drink for you whilst she made you park up at the counter. You watched the way her cheeks rose gently at your comment before she straightened up.

“It’s not a competition you know?” Sydney snorted as she took the pan off the heat. “Besides, you’re a fantastic chef.”

It was your turn to feel a pit of shyness in your stomach, not all that common for you but coming from Sydney- that was something else.

By the time she’d plated up your meal, your mouth was borderline watering. Her whole apartment had filled with the scent and seeing it before you was enough to set your teeth on edge.

“Well, tell me what you think.”

She leaned on the counter in front of you, elbows propped up to rest her chin in her hands. She hadn’t even thought to fix herself a plate, as if her whole reason for cooking had been you.

And it had been.

As you ran the fork through the food, Sydney didn’t miss the way you’d managed to heap almost all the best parts of the dish. Bringing the fork to your bottom lip, you pressed against it gently to test the heat.

Eyes fixed straight on Syd’s, you took the bite and let it consume you. Heat rising in your chest and swelling throughout your whole body. She cooked like the act had been invented for her.

You didn’t mean to moan, honestly. You’d always thought it was a little weird when people did that but it was an honest autonomous response to the food.

“Jesus, Syd,” You tried your best to politely cover your mouth as you spoke. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

And you hadn’t since. Not until that moment, not until it was as if you were back in your institute days and Sydney was pretending to know less than she did just as an excuse to talk to you longer.

“Do you remember when I asked you how to fillet a fish? I’d come to you with a bandaged finger and an apron covered in scales.”

Sydney had no idea why she’d said it, why she’d even spoken the memory into existence. The moment she saw your face light up, the sound of your laugh- she realised why.

“As if thee Sydney Adamu couldn’t fillet a fucking fish.” Your eyes crinkled in the corners as you relived the moment. “I ran the knife long enough for you to freak out and take over.”

Thinking back on the memory, Syd hadn’t even realised that you’d seen right through her. That’s how away with it she was. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You couldn’t stop laughing and Sydney couldn’t stop drawing that sound out of you.

“And give up the opportunity to have you at my station? I don’t think so!”

Her heart was going to stop. Her heart was going to stop and you were going to have to give her CPR and maybe this would be a cute story for the grandkids one day but right now it was mortifying.

The mortifying ordeal of being known.

“You-“

“Wanted you as much as you wanted you? I thought I’d made that blindingly obvious?”

Could you imagine what would happen if Sydney got out of her own way?

It might look a lot like this, her moving stacks of paper off Carmy’s desk so she could sit you down on the edge of it. Her lips pressed so gently against yours, tongue just and only breaching your mouth.

“Syd,” You whined against her, hands reaching out for her hips. “I’m not going to break.”

Translates into, kiss me like you fucking mean it. With a please tacked on the end, she knows you well.

Slotting between your thighs, Syd pulled you in closer and finally allowed herself to have what she’d always wanted. Her teeth nipped at the flesh of your bottom lip, tongue forcing its way against yours.

It earned her a moan straight into her mouth, your fingers reaching under her chefs whites to press against her stomach. The heat of your hands on her bare skin nearly turned her inside out.

Sydney moved her own hands under your shirt, fingers reaching for the button of your trousers. One hand reaching for the side of her neck, the other sliding further up her chest, you lifted your hips to give her more access.

Still swilling around in her own head, Syd took your sudden movement to heart. “Are you okay? Did you want me to stop?”

Your eyes caught hers, pulling her face down a little more, bringing your lips millimetres from her own. “Sydney.”

“Y-yeah?”

One kiss. Firm, tongue pushing her mouth open and swiping along her lower teeth.

Another kiss. Hand moving up her to cup her chest, the other tightening behind her neck.

One more for good measure. Hips bucking into hers, rolling along the seam of her trousers.

“If I want you to stop, you’ll know.” Matter of fact, no questions asked. “Right now, I want you to fuck me.”

Sydney was good at doing what she was told, immediately dropping to her knees with a firm grip on the waistband of your pants.

They hung off one ankle, your other leg slung off her shoulders as she dragged you down the desk a little further. You felt paper shift underneath you as you leaned back on an elbow.

“Carmy will kill us if he finds out.” You snorted a laugh as you ran a soft hand across Syd’s face.

You saw her eyebrows raise, quick comment before her face disappeared between your thighs. “He’ll live.”

She stole another laugh out of you, replacing it with a gasped breath as you felt her tongue running up the seam of you.

Your hips immediately lifted towards her face, hand wrapping around the back her head to pull her even closer. Sydney was more than accepting, lips pursing around your clit as her tongue got to work.

Eyes rolling back, head dropping back between your shoulders as her mouth worked absolute magic. The sounds she drew from you were more than debauched.

“Fucking hell, Syd-“

She cut you off as her lips closed in, suckling against the sensitive bud as your hips picked up a steady rhythm rolling against her mouth.

Those skilled hands, the ones you’d spent days watching were now wrapped tightly around your thighs, pulling them to close around her head.

Sydney was trying to forget where you began and she ended.

You felt movement, like she was shuffling. Tilting your head, you caught a glimpse of how she was knelt, finding that she’d sat herself on the heel of her foot.

Sydney was getting herself off on the taste of you.

Your stomach was doing fucking flips, the fireworks that’d start off when you tasted a meal of hers were dialled up to 11.

You’d never had anything like this before.

The way your hips were grinding down, the heady moans and whines that were filling the tiny office, the firm grip on the edge of the desk. You took your hand off Syd’s head and closed it over one of her hands.

She released your thigh to intertwine her fingers with yours, palms pressed tight together as her tongue ran down to your entrance to breach inside.

Your back arched up, papers crinkling beneath you as you writhed under her touch. “Syd- you’re gonna’ make me cum.”

All of a sudden, everything was gone. Her hot mouth against your core disappeared. Her hands on you faded into nothing.

Just as you felt tears of frustration pricking your eyes, mouth dropping open to ask just what the fuck she thought she was doing- when everything went speeding back to life.

Two skilled fingers, skill you’d known for a very long time (just never like this) suddenly ran along the split of you.

Gathering wetness as she went, Sydney immediately slipped inside of you and crooked her fingertips up until they were right on that spot behind your mound.

Your hands flew up to grip the fabric of her whites, pulling her in until your lips were pressed back against hers.

You could taste yourself, hot and raw against your own tongue as Sydney worked her fingers into you. Hearing her mumble against your mouth, you pulled back to listen.

“I want to feel it- want to feel you when you cum.”

Rolling your hips into her hand, you gripped onto her tight as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. Your teeth gently nipped at the skin of her throat as she pressed the heel of her hand to your clit.

Your stomach was coiling tight, the added pressure was driving you straight to edge in screaming colour.

Over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the gentle little coos from Sydney, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Just like that.”

“There you go, sweet girl.”

“You’re doing so good for me.”

And that was enough.

From the moment you were paired together in the institute, just once- once was enough. All you’d ever wanted to hear from that point onwards was praise, Syd’s praise.

Your face firmly pressed into the crook of her shoulder, cunt clenching tight around Sydney’s fingers as you felt your orgasm pulling you under.

Fingers still working you through the waves, her other arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against her.

As your senses started to come back, you could feel her hand gently rubbing between your shoulder blades. Lips pressed to the top of your head as you felt yourself shaking gently against her.

You felt the emptiness of her hand moving from between your legs, eyes opening in time to see her lips close around her two glistening fingers.

There was an unmistakable heat in your cheeks, watching her eyes flutter shut and a groan work its wait out of her chest. For a moment, you knew how she felt when you taste her food.

As you reached out to get your hands on the waistband of her trousers, you felt a hand close around your wrist. Nearly, you could nearly argue but you felt yourself being gently pushed back to your earlier position.

“I wanna feel this one on my face,” Sydney instructed, getting back onto her knees. “I’ve only got 3 years and 8 months to make up for.”

[thoughtfulchaos773]

I love Sydney so much because, once upon a time, I was a sous and walked out during a lunch rush, so we are connected.

It's - not my proudest moment - I felt bad for my co-workers more than anything. But as employees in Illinois, we are at will here - the same way they can fire you well, you can quit without notice. It's the one weapon we have as employees anytime we have a shitty work environment.

But do you know the amount of burnout and bullshit you have to experience to get to that point?

Let me explain:

Sydney worked there from July-December, and she made so many changes and changed The Beef for Carmy. He wanted it fixed, and she fixed it. She gave him a blueprint of effective changes.

The 1x07 episode hints that Sydney has reached a breaking point with Carmy insulting her indirectly by calling the reviewer a hack, Richie asking her if she blew someone at the telegraph All these months, she spent showcasing her talent, making effective changes, and inspiring everyone else, and they insulted her when a reviewer compliments her dish.

Oh and when Carmy gave her the assignment to train Louie and handle the to go orders? And train richie on the new system? I'm getting overworked flashbacks. How many months did Carmy just assign things to Sydney because he was so used to her handling everything?

Then the one mistake - the pre-order option - and Carmy shouts and curses at her? In front of the staff, she helped manage? She had every right to quit.

Love Carmy- feel for him, and I love the gesture of starting this restaurant with Sydney the second season and giving her confidence, BUT he better pull his weight soon.

[yannaryartside]

THE NEW 'MENU" IS GONNA BE HELL FOR SYD

I have been reading Sous Chef: 24 Hours on the Line –by Michael Gibney because I wanted to understand more about Sydney's future responsibilities. I know next to nothing about the cooking industry, and this show particularly doesn't want to waste time explaining the context to the untrained eye (which is fair, we are here for the drama).

Man, this book was so awesome. It is literally like experiencing a The Bear episode in book format. It takes you through the whole routine, explaining who does what, the expectations, skillsets, and the emotional burden of each position. The protagonist is, of course, the sous chef, and what I have read made me feel scared for Sydney next season. So, every fact I display here is because the book presented it as the expected.

THE BEAR'S CASE

Now, a clarification: As I understand, the CDC supervises the whole kitchen, which is Syd's official title. But Carmy will technically still act as CDC since most executives don't move a finger; they are supposed to be there only to ensure rules and quality standards are followed.

The CDC is the person in the kitchen that everyone answers "yes chef/Oui chef too. The one that calls the orders and keeps everyone in line. The one who has the final say about what goes out of the kitchen. Under them, there is the sous, making sure all the operations are in order.

So you will technically have two CDCs; just one of them will have the final say, and you will have Tina as the sous. But that puts Sydney in a position to act both as CDC and a Sous, so I am using the book to guide what we may expect her to endure. This as a report made last minute with only two sources (pretty good, but still only two). Now, lets begin.

A very inexperienced staff: The author created a fictional restaurant based on his experiences, merging people he has met over the years to give you an idea of the most common in the industry. But it made something very clear to me: the staff of the bear, especially the line cooks, do not possess the training to operate at the level that Carmy is requesting. They better send them to culinary school before officially opening. I don't know why (I actually blame Carmy for this), but they haven't prioritized hiring certified staff since the beginning. They should have never had an opening day without knowing their staff and, if they were as green as Syd described them, sent their asses to culinary school right away. The fact they only bothered to send Tina and Ebra is baffling. And even when training is essential, experience is what can make the difference in unprecedented scenarios, and everything that Carmy is asking is pretty unprecedented by definition.

With the menu changing every day, Sydney's job as a cook herself and as the captain of many cooks is going to be darm near impossible.

Actually, in the book, there were two sous chefs, one for opening and one for closing. Even if you delegate the administrative task normally reserved for the morning sous chef to someone like Natalie (managing schedules and callouts, checking deliveries, and inspecting the state of the food before opening), it would still leave a lot of things on Sydney's plate. I am gonna be quoting this article:

"Few are the kitchens I’ve worked or sta’aged in where the Sous Chef wasn’t doing all the work that the general public thinks the Chef is doing.  And don’t get me wrong, such is the natural progression of things and not without good reason.  But more often than not, while the Chef is the General, with his/her name on the line, the Sous Chef is the lieutenant, seeing to it that the work gets done in the trenches".

During service, the chef (CDC) plates the dishes in the pass, but before that, the sous has to check the food the line cook brings; they need to be aware of how the executive chef likes a particular dish, the consistency, temperature, and other culinary details. Again, Carmy will act as CDC here and Syd as sous. Even though I didn't see them do this in f&f, it will likely be necessary for the future. Carmy changing the recipes constantly is gonna make it virtually impossible for Sydney to keep up, with their particular preparation, and since they are gonna be the final portal after the food gets to be presented to the client, it could cause a lot of friction between them.

Not only that, the sous chef normally leads the preparation of the specials (since in most restaurants, the ordinary menu has been established, only the specials can change every day) For both sous chefs in the book, leading prep consumed most of their time before opening, since, again, the executive has already trained them in how he prefers certain parts of the recipe. Again, in the Bear's circumstances, this will probably also be Sydney's job.

Replacing staff. The book even includes a scenario when a line cook fails, and the sous has to cover that station. Sydney is kind of destined to experience this, too, considering how unreliable their staff could be. If that happens, Carmy will be alone at the pass, checking every element before plating, which will obviously cause a delay.

Tina is the sous, and it will be interesting to see how she manages that; she definitely doesn't have the experience, and these expectations are definitely no industry standard. It hurts me that Sydney may suggest hiring another sous to work next to her or another cook who actually has experience operating in the industry to level up her workload. That is where I think Luca's role will be next season, if he goes to work for them. He probably has the skill set to do it. There is no point in having two people manage desserts.

Evidently, with a menu changing every day, it also means that Carmy has to make Syd come early every day to explain this recipe to her and make sure she can lead the rest of the kitchen in making them. Most of their dynamic is gonna rely on how much Syd can actually fulfill Carmy's expectations; she came here to work for him, running away from psycho chefs, and yet Carmy's expectations are going to be the most reckless the industry has ever seen.

The closing sous has to prepare everything for the next day long after the executive and the other sous are gone, revising the mistakes that were made, and preventing the ones they could make tomorrow.

Regardless of the title and responsibilities that may go on Sydney for being the only other experienced chef in the kitchen, we are talking about a 15-hour day. And I know it can be expected in this industry, but the layout for having two sous made plenty of sense. I don't know if Carmy will take part of the workload. I hope that is the case.

But yeah, the line "so you can push me, and I can push you" is taking a new connotation in my mind. What Carmy is creating doesn't make any logistical sense, with an untrained/inexperienced staff and with a sous chef that he trusts and cares about, but he is basically asking to perform to a level that defeats reason.

It is not even the level that made him "the bear" in his years as the best CDC in the world. Because even if Carmy's past executive was abusive and cruel, their expectations had to obey certain logistic logic that Carmy was completely abandoning. Carmy is not gonna be abusive, but all of this is a whole orchestra he is creating for self-punishment because even he won't be able to keep up with it, he may push everyone away because there is nobody who can. All of this is his version of self-harming. And Sydney and everyone he loves will witness, it until he asks for help.

Edit: I had to make a correction, explaining Carmy's and Syd's will technically both do the job of CDCs. Again, please do let me know more about that or feel free to correct me.