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bee-wg · 1 month

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Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face.

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it.

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded.

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.”

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence.

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.”

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number.

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it.

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer.

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team?

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.”

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-”

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to.

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home.

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour.

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?”

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people?

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual.

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space.

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites.

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food.

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog.

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

#male weight gain #fit to fat #exjock

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ceesimz · 2 months

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Reverie - Part 2

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - part one here

Hey, welcome back for part two :) Thank you so much for the love, this genuinely wouldn't have been posted had it not been for the reaction to the first. Again, more things I wanna mention before reading. This part includes the aftermath of a bad meltdown, but the actual meltdown part is not written in. This was a personal decision because quite honestly there is no way to sum that experience down into a few words, it's impossible. The best example I have seen of a meltdown in the media is the character of Quinni in Heartbreak High on Netflix, if you're interested then you should watch that scene in the first season. I hope you enjoy this second part, thank you for taking the time to read it, let me know what you think :)

Your first Champion’s League game for Barcelona, a group stage game against PSG at home, didn’t quite go as planned.

From the first minute of the game, things weren’t clicking out on the pitch for you. Passes to and from you weren’t connecting, you were losing duels you definitely shouldn’t and you were missing key, game-changing shots.

Half-time came way too quickly, and to everybody’s frustration, the score was still 0-0. As everyone sat in the changing rooms receiving treatment or refreshing themselves with energy drinks and whatnot, the result wasn’t the thing at the forefront of Ingrid's mind. It was you. She could see defeat written all over you before the match had even concluded. It didn’t bode well what this game was doing to you. Before she could do anything, she was called away for a tactical discussion. Then the break was over and everybody was being ushered back to the pitch, and her opportunity was gone.

Rough challenges, an open goal miss, and a yellow card later, you were done for. Your streak was over, you knew what was coming and there was no way to avoid it.

Nobody heard from you for ten hours, nobody saw you at any point after the game, and quite frankly nobody knew where you were. Ingrid knew though. And if her gut feeling about what had happened was correct, she was going to need back up for this one. She hadn’t dealt with a situation like this for a while now, and she felt a little out of her depth.

“Why didn’t anybody stay with her last night?” Alexia asked with a deep-set frown, rushing to your flat alongside Mapi and Ingrid. “You guys live in the same complex as her, why didn’t you check up on her?”

“I don’t know, Alexia! If I could go back and change it, I would, I swear.” Ingrid replied desperately, looking through her keys to find the one to her old flat.

“Hey, let’s not argue. She won’t be in any fit state to deal with that, we can hash it out later.” Mapi attempted to de-escalate the situation whilst taking the keys from her girlfriend's shaking hands and quietly unlocking the door.

The thing they'd all been worried about made its presence known immediately. Ingrid’s heart broke, and she’d never regretted a decision more in her life.

By the door, your bag had been thrown haphazardly towards the shoe rack, causing the contents of both items to be strewn across the entryway. As the trio stepped past the mess and entered the main room, their concern doubled. There seemed to be two smashed glasses in the kitchen, one of the framed prints from your lounge wall had fallen down, a plant had been knocked over, yet there was no sign of you. The curtains were drawn, the lights were off, and the flat was deathly silent.

“What do we do?” Alexia questioned quietly, afraid of shattering the calm that had seemingly settled after the storm, and unsure what the best way to go about this was. She'd never really experienced anything like this before, at least not to this degree.

“Can you two clean up a bit? She will be in bed, I should go to her first I think.” Ingrid decided as her eyes were glued to your closed bedroom door.

“Of course. If either of you need anything, princesa, just shout for us.” Mapi reminded her, knowing that whatever was in store for her behind your bedroom door could be mentally taxing for her too. She nodded, and at that left the two Spaniards to clean up as she went off to do some damage control.

What greeted her when she entered your room was a sight she hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since the several hour journeys the pair of you would make throughout Germany to meet up, not since national camps, not for years.

Ingrid found you as a disfigured lump under the duvet, the only thing visible being your hair peeking out just slightly. Again, the lights were off and the curtains were drawn, but with it being morning there was enough daylight bleeding through the soft material to let her look around the room. Just like the rest of the flat, it was in a concerning state of disarray. That wasn't at the forefront of her mind though right now though.

“Elskling?” She called out softly, though got no response. Her only option was to step closer, around to the side of the bed you lay on to try and get your attention.

You were lay on your stomach, cheek smushed against the mattress, and most unnervingly of all, your eyes were open and staring straight ahead at the wall in front. The look on your face was hauntingly empty, yet agonised all in one.

“Hey.” Ingrid whispered, kneeling down before you, yet you didn't even acknowledge she was there.

It was that moment that the defender noticed the tear tracks, the redness to your face, and the internal agony and undertones of fear present in your blood-shot eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat, broken at the sight of you, before gently placing her hand on your back atop the sheets.

“If you can hear me, min engel, just give me a tiny nod at least. That's all I ask.” The relief that flooded her when you did exactly what she said was immense, it filled her from head to toe, so grateful you were at least present in the room now.

“Thank you, that's all I needed.” She smiled sadly, delicately pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “I'm going to sit here with you for as long as you need. María and Alexia are here too but they won't come in unless you say otherwise, they are just cleaning up for you. I love you, søster, I am always going to love you no matter what.”

Her words, her compassionate and caring words, broke through the trance you'd been in ever since your explosive meltdown had ended however long ago. Ingrid's unconditional love that she consistently showed towards you made itself known yet again, it being quite possibly the one sole thing that could get through to you in this precarious moment.

The taller woman panicked the moment she saw you tearing up again, worried that she had said the wrong thing, but then your arm reached out from under the covers and grasped desperately at the hand on your back.

“It's okay, it's okay. I've got you. I'm here, you're safe, and I've got you.” Her free hand came up to wipe the tears that fell silently, the repetitive movement of her thumb across your wet cheeks a comfort you clung onto. Meanwhile, the arm of hers you'd grabbed now had both your arms wrapped around it, eyes scrunched tightly shut to keep the tears at bay as much as possible.

It wasn't possible though, they were coming out thick and fast with no way of stopping them.

“Let it out, snuppa, you will feel better.”

And let it out you did; all the anger you directed at yourself the second the final whistle blew the day before dissipated, and a fatalistic sadness washed over you. You don't know how long you spent sobbing into the mattress, all you knew was that Ingrid was there and she wasn't leaving. She repeated reassuring words over and over until they finally registered, eventually helping you to calm down.

All that was left was an exhausted, now mindless shell of you, stuttered breaths sounding through the quiet room every so often. Ingrid's hand was tracing light circles on the palm of yours, whilst she was quietly suffering through a numb arm that you held onto still.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink since yesterday?” Ingrid asked, her assumption confirmed by the slight shake of your head. “Can I leave for a few seconds to get you something, or shall I ask one of the girls to do it?”

“Stay.” You could barely get the single word out; your throat was already dry and hurting from the exertion it had experienced in the last twelve hours or so, nevermind the mental challenge it was to speak.

“Alright, I will stay. Is it okay if one of them comes in then?” Another tiny, barely noticeable nod. “I will text them, thank you.”

No more than a few silent minutes later, there was a polite knock on the door, shortly followed by Alexia walking in with a tray in her arms. On it was a glass of water, a variety of snacks, some electrolyte tablets and even a box of tissues. She had really thought of it all.

Alexia’s eyes glanced up to where you were, before turning back to Ingrid with a questioning look in her eyes. Ingrid only shook her head, and Alexia took that as her cue to leave. It was clear, from just one momentary glance, that Ingrid still had more progress to make with you, so Alexia quietly slipped straight back out of the room.

When Ingrid turned back to you, all she saw was the sixteen year old version of you, crying in a hotel room hours from home after being dropped to the bench for an upcoming match. She saw the seventeen year old inside of you, the one that had gotten way past drunk at a party and had collapsed into a blubbering, destroyed mess on your bed after near enough carrying you home. She saw you at twenty, breaking down when she revealed she was moving to Wolfsburg, fumbling through the congratulatory messages whilst trying to come to terms with the fact your best friend was moving to a whole different country, feeling like the world was collapsing around you. You, twenty-three, leaving your last national camp, physically and mentally ruined, unable to talk, body and mind exhausted after a night of tears, frustration, and a soul crushing amount of remorse at the decision you had no choice but to make.

Every version of yourself, past and present, was right there in front of her; every version needing the support she was giving. Every version was still alive in some way, they would never die. With this disorder, things don’t come and go, they’re always there, ready to be triggered at any given moment. She had seen this one and the others a handful of times before, but you’d have them with you for the rest of your life. Your own cross to bear, something she’d never come to experience or understand, but if she can carry the load with you then she’d give up everything else in her life to do so.

“Are you ready to sit up? Ale brought in some stuff for you.” She said, her hand resting on your cheek and caressing it lightly.

You only shrugged, not quite ready to leave your space yet. If you moved now, you had to face the world again, had to recover from the night’s meltdown and move on. It was daunting, nothing short of terrifying, and the longer you could delay the process, the better.

“The three of us have cleared our day, should you need us. We’ll go at your pace, do things how you want. I’ll be right here.”

You found solace in Ingrid’s company; having her here meant you could relax and focus on something else other than the noise in your head. Your thoughts were having a whale of a time up there, you couldn’t land on a single one as they were spiralling around too much to pick one out. It was exactly that - just noise. But then you’d avert your eyes slightly to the left and land on a certain dark-haired woman, and everything went silent. Knowing that Alexia and Mapi were just a few metres away behind the door might have made you panic, but you trusted them both and knew that they were equally concerned about you as Ingrid was. As Alexia had told you since one of the first times you spoke to her, she wanted to be a person you felt comfortable with to go to about any problems, and you did trust her. Mapi too, though she came as an unspoken package deal with Ingrid, whether she liked that or not.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, surprising yourself as much as you did Ingrid. She frowned at you, wondering why of all things you could say after the difficult time you’d had in the last day, you chose to apologise.

“Sorry about what? You don’t need to apologise for anything, elskling.” She told you, finally moving her dead arm to hold one of your hands and squeeze it comfortingly.

“Yesterday. The match. Me.” Talking was still hard, but the guilt was monumental.

“The result wasn’t your fault. That’s just how football is sometimes, but we didn’t lose and we still have more group stage games to go. The whole team was off, it wasn’t your fault.” Ingrid reminded you, her eyes wide as she tried to get the message through to you.

“Yellow card.”

“You did get a yellow card, but we all saw the replay afterwards and you got the ball. The referee got it wrong. You also scored our only goal of the game, engel, don’t forget that.” She shuffled a little closer on her knees, placing another kiss to your forehead.

“Suppose so.” You grumbled a minute later, Ingrid smiling in amusement.

“You did so.” She commented, thumb still stroking along the skin of your cheekbone. “Did you have a bad meltdown last night?”

“Mhm.” You hummed dejectedly, overcome with shame and embarrassment at now admitting it to someone. The evidence of it was all around, you knew the trio in your house had seen it all, but there was something gut-wrenching about admitting it aloud.

“Okay. We’ll pick up the pieces and put you back together, don’t worry.” Ingrid stated resolutely, like there was no other option.

With the next thing you said, someone might have to come along and piece Ingrid back together.

“Why do they have to happen, Ingrid? I hate them so fucking much.”

All your vulnerabilities poured out in two short sentences. Twenty-six years later and the process of a meltdown never got any less demoralising.

“I know, I know.” She moved from her place on the floor and clambered onto the bed behind you, recognising that you had entered a head space where you’d feel comfortable with it now. You confirmed that for her by rolling onto your side, allowing her to shuffle up and hug you tightly back to her chest. “Hey, think of it this way. This is your first one since moving to Spain, that’s amazing! I’m so proud. You’ve handled everything so well, I bet younger you is so proud too.”

Progress wasn’t linear, and it didn’t have the same definition in this case as it did for the majority of the population. Progress meant learning about yourself, learning what harmed you and what you couldn’t deal with, so that you could come up with solutions. There wasn’t a way to grow comfortable with certain things, like restaurants for example, it was about realising what precautions had to be taken beforehand and what support you needed afterwards. Progress was being able to ask people for help, it was having the courage to say no to plans you wouldn’t be able to cope with, it was accepting that yes, you were different, but no, it didn’t make you any less worthy than the next person.

You had made progress, but not the textbook definition of it. Autism took everything about the allistic world and re-defined it for itself.

“Thank you.” You said, voice cracking a little as you did so, a slither of a smile on your face when Ingrid kissed the back of your neck. “Love you, Ingrid.”

The defender felt as if her heart had burst upon hearing those two words. But with the swell of joy that filled her chest, quickly came the crushing sense of regret from earlier.

“I love you too. I'm sorry for not being here last night. I could have helped, or just been with you, and I didn't. I'm sorry for that.”

Her apology tugged at your heart; you didn't blame her, not one bit. 99% of the time, there was no stopping these things, no matter what you tried or who you were with.

“It's okay. Thank you for being here now.”

Ingrid nestled in closer at that, and the strength of her hug was the exact kind of pressure needed for the remnants of the dark cloud that had hung over you for a while to finally drift away. The pair of you stayed that way for a while, both more than happy to relish in the peace that had settled, but when there are two antsy women only a few feet behind the door, a disruption is inevitable.

“Can they come in? They’re both worried and will just want to see you're okay.” Ingrid asked quietly after one of them had knocked on the door. You nodded sheepishly, so Ingrid called them in.

“How are things going in here?” Mapi asked carefully, smiling at her girlfriend who gave her a reassuring nod.

“Good. We’re doing okay now.” Ingrid answered honestly, feeling just as relieved as the two Spaniards at the door looked.

“You guys can come in instead of hanging around by the door.” You told them, Ingrid stifling her laughter behind you.

“You two look cosy. Let me join, I'm jealous.” Mapi grinned, dramatically diving onto the bed and sighing contently as she threw an arm around Ingrid's waist.

Alexia was still lingering awkwardly at the door as three of you lay in one double bed, thinking that she didn't want to intrude on a friendship that had been around far longer than she'd known you. But, as you had done for months now, you continued to surprise her.

“Come lay here, Ale.” You waved her over and pointed for her to lay beside the bed on the ground.

Ale. Sure, everybody called her that, but today was the first time you called her that.

She came over in a heartbeat, probably too eager, but she immediately got down and laid on her back beside you. You looked down at her with a shy smile, red eyes and all, and she returned it instantly with pink cheeks.

“Have you eaten yet?” She whispered, looking at the untouched tray of goods next to her. As you shook your head, she reached to grab the paper bag of bakery-bought cookies she had found in your kitchen and opened them, before taking one out and breaking a bit off to give to you. “Cookies for breakfast.”

“Cookies for breakfast.” You gladly took it and ate it, all whilst smiling down at the woman on the floor.

Alexia Putellas, your captain, a World Cup winner, voted best player in the world numerous times, laying on the floor of your apartment just for you. Playing for this team, in this city, was still such a perplexing situation, though fortunately for all the right reasons.

The rest of the day was spent with Mapi and Ingrid as you had told Alexia to go to her family dinner she had initially cancelled. She was reluctant to do so, but eventually she agreed and you were left with Ingrid and her hyperactive counterpart. They kept you distracted enough throughout the day, going for a walk with you, watching a movie with you, even inviting you back to their apartment for dinner where you spent the majority of the time with Bagheera on your lap. Mapi made digs at the fact her cat loved you more than her, and you just sat there with a grin on your face, knowing it was true and revelling in it.

At the end of the night, you insisted on going back to your own flat after telling the pair of them you were tired of third-wheeling. With tight hugs from them both and one last gloat from you as Bagheera followed you to the door, you left them and made the very short journey back home. You had unknowingly left your phone there, and as you checked it for the first time in a couple hours, there was a surprise waiting for you on it.

Alexia: Would you like to get breakfast with me tomorrow?

Alexia: I can meet you at your apartment and we can walk somewhere of your choice

Alexia: But if you don't want to, that’s okay!

Her nervousness radiated through the phone with her slight spam of texts, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it was. As if you could ever say no to that. Even if it was a last minute change of plan, all you were going to do tomorrow was maybe go on a run or go to the gym before staying home all day. This was a welcome surprise.

Sticking true to her word, she showed up at 9am on the dot. Anyone would assume it was the middle of winter in Norway with the way she was dressed, when it was just a rainy day in Barcelona. But she was there, a shy smile on her face that was very uncharacteristic for her as she handed you one of the two umbrellas she had in her hands.

“I do have my own umbrella here, Ale.” You teased her, though you took it and closed the door behind you. When you turned back, there was a red shade to her cheeks.

“Well, good morning to you too.” She grumbled, trying to act grumpy but the smile on her face forced its way through sooner than she wanted. As soon as it did, she drew you in for one of those hugs that you may or may not think about more often than you'd admit.

You both easily fell into step after that, heading towards a quiet little cafe you had frequented since your first week in Barcelona. It was a short walk from your apartment, but that didn’t stop the grumbled complaints from Alexia about the weather the whole way, though by the time you arrived you were quite sure she was doing it just to hear you laugh. Again, it surprised you just how naturally conversation flowed between you both. There was no awkwardness, no nerves, just unfiltered joy spilling from the both of you. It hit you then. You were just being yourself around her. And that’s why it felt so good.

There was no reason to mask around Alexia; you felt safe around her. You could do or say anything, and most likely she would just smile right back at you. She’d seen most versions of you by now, and yet here she still was, inviting you out for breakfast even if it did rain on her parade. She had seen you at your happiest in your first game for the team when she came sprinting over, leading the charge for her teammates to celebrate with you. She saw you yesterday morning after a night of horror, eyes red and puffy, wrapped up unmoving in bed, and she lay on the floor beside you still with a smile on her face. You had already let her in more than some of the people you were closest with back in Germany and her opinion never faltered.

After finding a table, beside the window of course, Alexia went off to order for the pair of you. Though, when she came back, there was a surprise on your plate.

“Why’d you get me this?” You asked shyly.

“Because it is your… your comfort food, right? I thought you would like it.” She shrugged the gesture off, sitting down across from you like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean everything to you. It wasn’t the cookie itself that had your heart racing, it was the thought behind it that topped your heart back up with the love it needed after the past thirty-six hours.

“They are, but you didn’t have to do this for me. Thank you.” You said, hiding your smile by taking a drink of the hot cocoa you had chosen.

“Eh, it’s nothing. Have you ever tried this?” She gestured to her choice of meal, one of her favourites. “Pa amb tomàquet.”

“I don’t like tomatoes.”

“Oh no, cariño.” Alexia muttered after a few quiet moments, shaking her head and dropping her cutlery. “No, no, no.”

“What?” You said in amusement, entertained by her dramatics.

“You just stamped on my culture. You broke my heart.”

“I broke your heart, did I?” You said with a smirk. “You broke my heart when you complained about the rain the whole way here.”

“How can anyone like rain? It is sad and boring.” She argued in mock outrage, though of course she can’t last a second around you without smiling.

“The rain reminds me of home.” You revealed sheepishly. Alexia’s shoulders dropped and her face softened instantly. “Both Norway and Germany, actually.”

“No, I understand. I get it. I never thought about it like that but I understand.” She told you, watching as you nodded and looked out the window. “Do you get homesick?”

“Sometimes.” You admitted in a whisper a minute later, only to clear your throat and turn your attention back to your food and start eating.

“You… you never speak Norwegian with Ingrid.” She stated, though it was clearly more of a question.

“Uh, nope. I find it hard to learn new languages, so when I learnt English and moved to Germany, it was like it became my first language. I can speak Norwegian still, obviously, and I would love to learn Spanish and Catalan but it’s just really tiring switching between languages. Mentally tiring, that is. I never learnt German other than a few basic phrases. It’s just too much to process if that makes sense.”

You stumbled your way through an explanation of a minor secret you’d been a little shameful of for a while now. It was common courtesy to learn and understand the language of a new country, as well as immersing yourself in that and the culture, but it was something you had always struggled with. Admitting that to someone like Alexia was slightly terrifying.

“That’s okay, a lot of people here speak English so you don’t need to worry about learning the languages. But if you ever want some lessons, if or when you are ready, I could help. Or Aitana, or Jana, or someone else.”

It was suggestions like that, easy solutions that were offered with no second thought, that made Alexia so endearing.

There was one thought that was ever-present in the back of your mind though, it had been for a while, but the meltdown brought it on even stronger. Once the pair of you had finished your meals and were merely just enjoying each other’s company, it came out before you could stop it.

“Do you think I’m doing well here?”

Alexia paused for a moment to think carefully, before placing her cup down and smiling over at you.

“I do. You want to know what I think?” You nodded with no hesitation. “I remember watching you play against us in the Champion’s League last year, you really caused us a lot of problems. And then I heard the coaches say they were thinking of signing you, and I really wanted you to come because I know you would flourish here. Our play style suits you well, and you are an amazing striker. Your positioning, your creativity, awareness, you are a well-rounded attacker. And outside of the pitch, well… the team is much better off with you here.”

“What do you mean?” You said, almost in a whisper.

“You are just a happy person. The happiest person in the changing room. Any one of us could be having a bad day, but then you are there with your smile and your cheeriness and it really lifts us all up.”

Dumb-founded. That's all you felt in that moment.

Perhaps your face may not show that considering there was a thoughtful frown on your face as you processed the words nobody had ever said to you before, but then the slight shock wore off and… nope, still dumb-founded.

“Really?” You had to double check, because is that honestly what other people thought of you?

“Yes. It's the truth. Ingrid said she has never seen you bond like this with a team before. Believe me when I say you fit in, everybody loves you. We can't imagine what it's like to not have you now.”

Well. You just might have to start believing that. What choice were you left with otherwise?

—

Something snapped inside of you after that day. A new problem had formed, one you couldn’t have expected at all. Had you dealt with a similar situation in the past? Yes. But those were much more convenient occasions. This one couldn’t be more inconvenient if you tried.

You couldn’t talk to Mapi about it, or Ingrid, or Alexia. Definitely not Alexia.

It’s just a crush. You could get over a crush.

Of course you fall for the first person who showed you a bit of humanity. What’s not to like about Alexia?

She lets you ramble to her when you want to, she sits in silence with you when you need it. During briefings at training, she’ll hand over a pack of chewing gum as she knows it helps you to concentrate or, even in some situations outside of training, she takes her rings off and lets you wear them so you can fidget with them instead of your bad habits of skin picking. She’s seen you very close to your worst, and she’s seen you at your best. She gives you her sunglasses whenever a place is too bright, not just because of the sun as it can be any kind of light, and she lets you squeeze her hand to death during take-offs and landings on planes whilst travelling for away games.

Maybe, maybe, it was a tad more than a crush. It’s not your fault though! She chose to act this way, she had inserted herself right into your life the moment she met you, so… what else were you supposed to do?

Oh boy.

“Frido! I need your help!” You said in an urgent, hushed whisper. The unsuspecting Swede was just walking to her car after training when you called her name from the window of your own vehicle.

“Everything okay?” She checked with a concerned scowl to her eyebrows, coming over in an instant.

“Yes! Well, no, but yes, but- just get in the car please.”

With a humoured smile, Frido headed around to the passenger side and hopped in, turning to you with an open expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit agitated.” She probed once more. Being long-time friends with Ingrid meant you had obviously come to know Frido well too, and she was part of the group you found yourself in at Barcelona, with Aitana and Esmee also. Esmee was the person you sat with on the coach most of the time, you both gave each other the calmness needed after a game… but that was when you weren't with Alexia, of course.

“Yes, I am just screwed, Frido. So screwed.” You groaned, clutching the steering wheel tightly and dropping your forehead to rest on it.

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t tell anyone but it’s going to explode out of me if I don't talk about it soon. And I can’t tell Ingrid or Mapi, so here we are.” Then you slumped back against your chair, a frustrated sigh leaving you as you crossed your arms.

“You can tell me anything, they don’t have to know. Getting it off your chest will help.” Frido smiled reassuringly at you.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell anyone about it. Having someone else know made it a reality, for you right now it was just a thought, a daydream. But telling Frido would turn this stupid delusion into an actual, real problem rather than something you thought about at night. And during the day. Actually, most of the t- it doesn't matter.

“You must never tell a soul, Frido.” You glared at her in warning, though you trusted her with your life. “And you can't make fun of me or laugh either. It's not funny.”

“Never, snuppa. I promise.” She swore.

Another sigh as your eyes flitted around anxiously, moving from the car beside you, to the sky, to the blonde waiting patiently for you to find the words you need. Maybe the world will be thrown upside down when you tell her, but it's either that or an implosion, so.

“I like Alexia. Really like her. And it's going to ruin my life.”

It did not feel better saying it out loud.

“Why wou-”

“Because she is the captain! She’s the leader, everyone looks up to her, she's just being a human and now I have a crush on her! That's not fair on her! All she’s doing is just being nice to me, like everyone else on the team, and my stupid brain had to choose her. Of all people in the world, her! It's going to mess everything up, I've just found my place and I'm finally feeling somewhat comfortable here and then this happens and I just- I hate it!”

Your words shocked yourself, even. Apparently it was a much bigger problem than you initially thought. In reality, you should have picked up on that, relationships historically haven't gone well for you.

Everybody says they don't care that you're autistic until your disability actually debilitates you. One glimpse of it and they’re gone. Then the world has the audacity to label you as someone who is ‘high-functioning’ with ‘low support needs’ just because you can get up in the morning and go to work. That doesn't mean you struggle any less, you’re not ‘mildly autistic’, those struggles are simply just internalised, therefore other people experience your autism mildly. If anything, they should be thanking you. Thanking you for making their life easier by making your own a million times harder.

Should Alexia ever see you during one of your meltdowns, she’d probably run for the hills. Quit her career, change her name, and flee to another country. That’s what most people did.

“Slow down, slow down. Come back to me, you are spiralling.” There were soft hands holding your own now, stopping you from palming them roughly against your arms, something you did in anxious moments like now. Movement helped you process things, it was no wonder you became a footballer.

“I don’t know what to do, Frido, it will ruin everythi-”

“Hey, be quiet for a moment.” She urged gently, and you turned to look at her with panic in your eyes. “This won’t ruin everything, that is just your anxiety talking. You’re allowed to have a crush on someone, skatt, you’re only human. It’s natural.”

“Yes, but it’s not the fact I have a crush, it’s who the crush is.”

“I know.” She paused for a second, figuring out the best way to help you around this. “When you talk to me, who do you see? Do you see Frido, your friend? Or do you see Fridolina Rolfö, the footballer?”

“I see Frido, my friend.” You answered skeptically.

“When you’re with Alexia, do you see her as Ale, your friend? Or do you see Alexia Putellas, your captain?”

“She’s just Ale, but I don’t-”

“If you see Alexia like that normally, why are you picturing her differently in this case? As if she’s bigger than you and… unobtainable?”

Viewing it from another perspective definitely gave you some clarity.

…But, after all, she is your captain?

“I don’t want to mess this opportunity up though. I was really worried I wouldn’t like it here, but now I do and I actually already love it more than Germany, but if I ever acted upon my feelings it could fuck it all up. I don’t know if I could handle that.” You said insecurely, chewing on your lower lip to keep the emotions at bay.

When Frido had been silent for too long, you turned to look at her, only to find she was doing the same thing. As if she was deep in thought. Before you could coax whatever was clearly on the tip of her tongue out of her though, she was speaking.

“I know something that I shouldn’t. I’m going to tell you anyway because I think it will make you feel a lot better.” She began with a shy, yet excited expression to her features.

“What is it?” You prompted.

“Last week, in Seville. I was walking to my hotel room and… Mapi and Ale were ahead of me in the corridor. I don’t think they knew I was there, and I heard them having a conversation just like ours.”

Oh. Oh.

“How sure are you?” Your eyes searched her face, looking for even just an ounce of hesitation that would throw all this out the window for you. But it wasn’t there.

“I’m very sure, snuppa, I heard basically every word.” She said with an almost proud smile. “I don’t think you have to worry about anything. Sounds like Alexia feels the same as you do. And even if I hadn’t overheard that, it’s clear to a lot of us that Alexia felt that way anyway. Think of how much time she has spent with you since you joined. She doesn’t spend that much time with anyone on the team, to be honest.”

That caught your attention. Now that Frido mentions it, Alexia has spent a lot of time with you. There was that morning she took you out for breakfast, something you hadn't ever expected but after it, you wished it would happen every morning. She always chooses to sit next to you at any given point, whether that be in briefings or whilst travelling, as well as opting to partner up with you in training whenever the opportunity arises. She even took time out of her own evening to cook dinner for you and bring it to you once when you told her you had ran out of your meal prep.

“I guess.” You mumbled with a frown.

“She’s just a girl after all. Like you.”

Once again, the world had decided to show you just how much your life can change with one single conversation.

—

Not that you acted upon anything, of course. Over a month passed by with things staying the same as they had been for a number of weeks before the revelation with Frido. Training, match, recovery day, repeat. Dinner at Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment every Thursday if the season schedule allowed it. Morning jogs on days-off, evenings spent basking in the golden glow of a Spanish sunset, some of the best you’d seen. There may have possibly been a few more breakfast outings with Alexia. And perhaps just one movie night. Or was it two?

Regardless, the one good thing about having the natural ability to mask all the inner turmoil you had was being able to hide your feelings when you were around Alexia. On the other hand, your trait of analysing every detail of your life became a bit too exhausting. You were overthinking all of your actions - every word you said, the way you said it, what your hands were doing, what someone might interpret from your body language, every little thing you did kept you up at night.

You definitely still liked her, that might… never go away. Those feelings only grew and weighed you down more and more, but you couldn’t distance yourself from her no matter how loud your mind screamed at you to do so. You liked her company, she ranked almost as high as Ingrid on your list of… list of what? People you liked? People you felt safe with? People you didn’t have to mask at all around? People you lov- too early.

There was just so much to think about, and so few solutions. There were literally two; you either tell her, or you pretend it never happened. What the hell were you meant to do with those options? Both were equally as terrifying. As if your fear of the future couldn’t get any deeper, you were now stood at a crossroads. Alexia could become the most important person in your life, or she could just become another person you leave behind in this free-for-all career. She could just slip into the past and become a distant memory.

Massive leaps of faith still weren’t your thing. The fear of the unknown still ran rampant through your veins, and though you’d become a little more relaxed about certain things over the years, this was absolutely not one of those exceptions. The prospect of it all was just too overwhelming. Truthfully, you really didn’t think you could do this.

However, things all came to a head during the last training session of the year in December. Literally.

“Ale? Are you okay?” You asked in a strangled groan, one of your hands coming up to your head as you squinted through one eye to look for the woman you’d just clashed with.

“Oye, sit down. Ale is fine, you both hit heads though so you need to be checked for a concussion. Lay down.” Mapi demanded just as you got back up onto your knees.

At that moment, you couldn’t have cared less about whether you had a concussion or not, all you cared for was that Alexia was okay. She was, maybe a black eye and a subsequent bruise to her ego, but she was fine. You had taken the brunt of it, straight to the temple.

You followed Mapi’s instruction and layed back down, your head already starting to throb quite a bit. Before you knew it, you were surrounded by some of the medical staff as they checked you over. Once they decided you were well enough to sit up, they urged you to do so as one of them came to cradle your neck to keep it steady. A bright light was flashed into your eyes, making you flinch, but they decided then that if you did have a concussion, it wasn’t too bad. The decision was made to take both you and Alexia inside as the rest of training went on, so the pair of you walked gingerly to the physio room.

“You okay?” Alexia murmured quietly as you both trailed behind the physios a little. You ignored the way your heart fluttered when her hand found your forearm briefly, and instead blamed it on your head injury (though it may not be physically possible for those occurrences to be linked.)

“Mhm. Are you? I’m sorry that happened.” You replied. The collision was a bit hazy for you, you couldn’t exactly remember what had happened so if you were at fault, you had to make sure she knew it wasn’t purposeful. She had to know.

“No, no apologies, it’s just football. Happens all the time.” She reassured you, smiling comfortingly down at you as she held the door open for you.

In the room, the team ushered you both onto separate beds, forcing ice packs into your hands as they carried out more cautionary checks. And to add to the guilt you felt, they decided to rule you both out of the game tomorrow as a precaution. Your stomach dropped, dreading Alexia’s reaction. Everyone knew about her mentality, a missed game was a missed opportunity. You weren’t quite sure you could ever look her in the eye again.

The second the physios said you both could leave, you hopped off the bench and went to make a run for it. The sooner you could get home, the better. If you avoided the conversation, you could avoid the whole situation, and hide until the Winter break ended.

“Cariño, wait!” Alexia called out, managing to gently stop you by your wrist before you could flee. You didn’t put up much of a fight, you just sighed and lowered your head. Alexia gestured for the rest of the staff to leave the room for the time being, and that only made matters worse. Not only was she going to trap you in a conversation, there weren’t even any witnesses. “I just want to talk about something. Could you sit down?”

You had no choice but to entertain her.

Reluctantly, you sat back down on the physio bench you were on a moment ago, and copied Alexia’s position. Perched on the edge, legs hanging off the side, except your hands gripped the fabric of it quite a bit tighter.

“Sorry.” You whispered with a chagrined look to your face, eyes trained on the swing of your legs.

“What? Why?” Alexia asked. The confusion in her voice led you to look up at her with your own questioning glance.

“For getting us ruled out. We can’t play tomorrow now.” You told her, your eyes again looking anywhere in the room but at her. Then again, that always happened, no matter the occasion.

“I told you that wasn’t your fault, you really don’t need to apologise. I’m not mad at you, so you don’t need to feel guilty or anything. We’re both okay, it’s just for our safety.” Alexia reminded softly, but with the head space you were in, you couldn’t believe her words just yet.

“What about the game though?” You uttered in a way akin to that of a down-trodden child, and Alexia could only smile in return at it.

“The team will handle it, they’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about anything, it’s all out of your control. Chin up.” Alexia said with a coy grin.

She laughed freely when you physically tilted your head up and squeezed your eyes shut to give a cheesy smile, and the sound of it instantly calmed most of your worries.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Um, no, actually. There’s another thing.” She scratched the back of her neck nervously as she spoke, and just like that your anxiety came rushing back. “I just, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, so please tell me if I am because that’s not what I wan-”

Was she about to say it?

“Say it, Ale. Just say it.” You interrupted, because if she was going to say it, you needed it right now. You couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Right. Well…” There was a bright redness to her cheeks, not just from the head-to-head a while ago. “I, um, I… I like you. Really like you, actually. As in, I want to go on a date with you.”

She actually said it.

“In a romantic way?” Your deadpan tone didn’t exactly help Alexia’s nerves in that moment.

“Uh, I’m not sure there’s any other kind of date, cariño, so yes, in a romantic way.” She laughed nervously. You were quiet for a few moments as you inwardly controlled your emotions so that you didn’t totally freak out in front of the woman who had just asked you on a date.

You had to play it cool, right? That’s what everyone always said.

“Sure. When?”

It was comical, really. You’d waited this long for something to finally happen between you both, and now it seemed you couldn’t care any less. If Alexia could see into your brain right now though, it would be total chaos. Like a scene straight out of Inside Out.

“I guess now that we can’t play tomorrow and we are the only ones ruled out, we could go to the game together?”

That was… actually a much better idea than you thought. Normally, people go on dates to the cinema or to restaurants or whatever other hellish activity neurotypicals chose to do. But a football game was common ground, something that the pair of you could talk about forever, and it was an environment that you were familiar with. That could absolutely work. A dream, actually.

Still, you had to play it cool.

“But I’m already going to the game. And I would have to sit with you anyway. And all you would focus on is the game, it wouldn’t be much of a date.” You were teasing her at this point, whilst also worrying that perhaps you had taken it too far again, but Alexia understood you by now. She’d caught on, and this was her favourite version of you she had seen so far.

“Fine, it doesn’t have to be a date then! You could have just said no instead of breaking my heart!” She argued theatrically, a wave of euphoria rushing through her when you threw your head back and laughed. “How about we go out for food after, that can be our date? We can go to one of the markets and get dinner from a food truck and go on a walk, instead of a restaurant. Does that sound like a better date?”

“Yeah, but I was going to say yes to the football game anyway.” You shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, a hint of a smirk on your face as you stood up to put your ice pack away. Alexia watched you do so with a huge smile on her face at your antics. You turned back to her, a hand on your hip where you stood not too far away from her now. “Dinner still sounds good though.”

“You are so annoying.” Alexia hopped down off of the bench and wandered over to you with a shake of her head, throwing her own ice pack down next to yours. “You know that?”

“It’s a love language. Get used to it.”

The midfielder chuckled under her breath. Secretly, she hoped she was able to get used to it.

“Wait, what do I have to wear tomorrow?” Your eyes suddenly went wide in panic, staring up at Alexia like she held all the answers in the world.

“Well, it is just a football game and a walk, so whatever you are comfy in. Why?”

“Because it’s a date, I don’t know what you expect me to wear.” You fretted. It had been a long time since your last date. And this was quite possibly the most important one so far.

“I have no expectations, cariño, just make sure you’re warm and comfortable.” Alexia brushed it off like it was nothing, a notion that silenced all those doubts once again. She had a real habit of doing that.

“Okay.” You nodded.

You realised your close proximity then, noticing you were both quite close. There was one thing that came to mind, but it was surely too early for that. No matter how much you wanted it. One step at a time. Instead, you shyly held your arms out and looked up at her.

She immediately knew what you were after, and who was she to deny you of that. You melted into her embrace the second she invited you in, finally being able to relish in the comfort her hugs brought without overthinking it.

“You are quite oblivious, you know?” Alexia stated with a smirk to break the silence.

“Shut up, you’re ruining it.”

—

You couldn’t sleep that night, you were way too excited for your date. You were like a giddy kid at Christmas, the smile didn’t leave your face for more than a second. Ingrid came around that night with the intention of checking up on you, but she never could have predicted what information she was walking back to her apartment with. When she found out, she thought she was excited, but Mapi, well, she was on a whole other level. Long story short, Bagheera didn’t surface from under the sofa until the Spaniard had long gone to bed.

The game kicked off at 2pm, meaning from the second you woke up at 7am sharp, you had way too much energy. Nervous energy. But there was one thing you noticed immediately. You didn’t feel scared, or anxious, or like you wanted to totally avoid the whole situation altogether. You were excited. You woke up feeling like a normal girl going on a date with someone they liked.

It was new. Refreshing. You felt light, you can’t remember the last time you felt that way about something that would normally freak you the hell out. Spending time with Alexia didn’t feel like a chore, the way it did sometimes with anyone in your life. Rather than draining your social battery, it stayed at the same level with her. If you were feeling especially burnt out one day, it didn’t seem so sickening to have Alexia’s company there like it was with the thought of anyone else. Your mind was peacefully empty when with her, unlike the fast-paced monologue that ran pretty much all hours of the day, even when you were asleep.

For once in your life, you were going to be optimistic. Because the woman you were meeting had never given you any reason to be otherwise.

So when she knocked on your apartment door, opting out of firing a text your way to say she had arrived, the surprise of not only her presence but the bouquet in her arms was met with a bright smile from yourself. You immediately took them from her and bounded towards the kitchen area to tuck them safely into a vase. Alexia gazed at you the whole time, feeling her own sense of disbelief at the situation she had found herself in. Never could she have imagined falling for you like she had when she met you for the first time six months ago, but she was happier than ever because of it.

There was a beaming smile of her own on her face, and her eyes crinkled with unfiltered joy when you leaned up to kiss her cheek quickly, before rushing around the flat to get everything you needed. Sunglasses, your coat to go over the matching jumper and joggers you were wearing (Alexia did tell you to dress comfortably, after all), and a cap for good measure. Between you both, there was a distinct difference between the amount of clothing layers, something that made you laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” Alexia grumbled, watching you adjust your hair in the mirror after putting your hat on, huffing when it wasn’t agreeing with you.

“You look like you’re dressed for a Norwegian winter. It’s ten degrees.”

“That is cold for me, cariño.” She chuckled, before moving to stand between you and the mirror, and helping you to sort your hair how you wanted it. You blushed and lowered your hands, looking up at her with a shy smile as she worked. “There. You look cute. Cosy.”

“Thank you.” You hummed, cheeks aching from the intensity of your smile when Alexia took hold of your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You look… warm.”

“Enough with your teasing, let’s go.” Alexia tutted, though she kept your hand in hers as the pair of you left your apartment. It wasn’t until you got to the car that you both reluctantly let go, shooting each other a bashful look before getting into Alexia’s car.

When you arrived at the stadium, both of you spent some time with the team in the locker room, and Alexia addressed them all quickly before you left to find your seats. You had full faith in the team, it was luckily just a league game that most of the younger members of the team would be playing anyway. To be honest, you were quite thankful to not be playing, because it had given way for something better instead.

The majority of the game was spent by both of you talking endlessly about football, both tactical discussions about the game and personal stories for you both. For Alexia, she spoke about how she came to love it so much and how it took her family’s relationship and togetherness to a whole new level. For you, you told her how playing football was the only job you could see yourself succeeding in. The system was routine-based, your work attire was a jersey and shorts, and you were indulging in your special interest everyday of the week. It was an autistic’s person dream to be able to do that, something you were grateful for every time you stepped onto a football pitch. Any other work environment, and you might not have survived.

Alexia hung onto every word you said, just as you did for her. Learning more about each other was something you both took great interest in, because every detail about your past was how you had become the people you were today. Maybe it was too early to class it as such, but falling in love was a phenomenon that people took for granted nowadays. It’s rare, it’s special, and it’s beautiful. Two people, from entirely different backgrounds, leading unique lives with respective struggles and wins the other hadn’t experienced, only to go on and share every high and low together. Yeah, pretty special in your book.

With you both being in view of the stadium’s crowd, you were mindful of the watchful eyes around. There was one exception though; during the later stages of the game, the other team had quite a fierce counter attack, something that had both you and Alexia on the edges of your seat. Though, as they neared the goal, the match was the last thing on your mind when Alexia’s hand landed on your knee in anxious anticipation. That hand didn’t move, even when Cata saved the shot with ease. Instead, she just settled back into her seat and turned to you with a deep breath out, the tension leaving her. Then she noticed what she’d done, but before she could retract it, you simply gazed up at her and put your hand on top of hers.

It remained that way until the whistle blew a few minutes later, when you stood up to make your way down to the rest of the team. You got onto the pitch, Alexia and yourself splitting ways to go and talk to your other teammates. Two familiar faces came bounding over to you and before they even spoke, you could tell what they were going to say just by the smiles tugging at their lips.

“How’s it going?” Mapi asked, poking you in the ribs.

“It’s not gone anywhere yet, we were more focused on the game. But it’s been nice, really nice. It doesn’t feel much different to the other times we’ve hung out, is that good or bad?” You replied with a nervous chuckle, and you got your answer in the form of an excited squeal from Ingrid.

“That’s a good thing! That’s what it was like on our first date, right María?” Mapi nodded enthusiastically, giving you a double thumbs up for extra emphasis. “See! I’m sure you’re doing great, skatt, and I am so happy for you.”

“Me too, preciosa, so happy. Think of the double dates!” Mapi shook your arm vigorously at that, the three of you laughing.

“Let me get through the first one, then I’ll think about it.” That sobered the pair of them up as they nodded in a calmer manner, before they both surged forward to wrap you up in a hug.

“Oh- she’s coming, incoming.” Mapi whispered, pulling away and spinning you around.

“Shall we go, cariño? It might be busy there, so the sooner the better.”

Just like that, you were being whisked away back into Alexia’s car. She drove to the market, which was decorated for the festive seasons, something you gasped at in awe the second you saw it. Alexia fought off a smile at your reaction which she found much more endearing than she thought she would, and she instantly knew it was a good idea to bring you here. Though you were flying back to Norway in a few days’ time for Christmas back at home, she had a feeling you were a bit more homesick than you were letting on, considering the vast difference in the season between Spain and Norway. Her plan to bring you here, not only for a date, but to cheer you up a bit, was already proving to work.

For a couple hours, you went from stall to stall with a childlike wonder, dragging Alexia along behind you with a tight grip on her hand that you said was just because of the busyness of the area, but both of you revelled in it secretly. That became the truth when you were walking away from the market, slowly heading in the direction of Alexia’s car, until she took you in another direction. Turns out, she was leading you to a beautiful walled garden you had no idea even existed, but the second you saw it you fell in love. Even if it may not have been as stunning as it usually was in the summer, it was still more than enough to capture your attention.

“This is amazing, Ale, how did you know this was here?” You wondered, head on a swivel looking at each tiny detail, as if there wasn’t enough time in the world to admire its beauty.

One day, in the future, Alexia will reveal that that’s how she feels about you. There are layers to you, and she fears she won’t have enough time in her life to uncover and explore each one. You hold beauty in your physical features, that was the first thing she noticed about you, but it’s the grace of your heart and how you proudly wear it on your sleeve that she adores the most. It's the sparkle in your eyes when you ramble about the things you love most, the unabashed care you treat everyone with, your humour that constantly keeps her on her toes, the purity of your soul and how you have enough unconditional love to give to nearly every being on the planet. There’s plenty to love about you, but that still doesn’t feel like enough for her.

“I have lived here for most of my life, preciosa, I know Barcelona like the back of my hand.” She said, and maybe if you weren’t so oblivious, you might have seen the adoration present in her gaze.

“So you’re saying you know more places like this? And you’ve kept them a secret all this time?”

“Yes, I will show you them all, don’t worry.” She chuckled, slowly walking over to where you were stuck staring at an abundance of pansies in one area of the garden. “Those are Alba’s favourite.”

“This whole place is my favourite. I love it, thank you for taking me here.” You turned your attention from the flowers and back up to Alexia, who didn’t seem to take any interest in her surroundings. She was just smiling down at you. “What are you smiling at?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re just standing there, smiling. You haven't even looked around yet. What are you smiling like that for?” You asked in utter confusion. She was genuinely just stood there, perfectly still, seemingly lost in her thoughts, with a soft smile on her face that’s directed solely at you. Instead of answering, she laughs, to your annoyance.

“I’m just happy, cariño. Happy to be here with you, on a date.” She answered, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh. Okay.” You said, hoping the dim lighting from the street lamp wasn’t enough for Alexia to see the blush on your cheeks. “I’m really happy too. I can’t believe you like me.”

You didn’t really mean to say that, but the words tumbled out of you regardless.

“Why do you say that?” Alexia questioned with a frown, deftly taking hold of your hands.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, looking down as your feet fidgeted on the spot, kicking a stone away from underneath you. “I can be a lot, I guess.”

“Well, luckily for you, I have seen your ‘a lot’ and it’s enough for me. You don’t have to worry about that, I promise.” Alexia replied, earnesty clear in her voice. She leaned forward then, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Why do you put yourself down like that?”

“Because I want to be your girlfriend, but I want you to know what you’re getting into.” You told her, taking a slight step back.

“Loving another human, that’s all I’m getting into.” She took a cautious step closer. “That little voice is taking over, cariño, take a breath with me and know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Trying to calm down is quite hard when there’s a beautiful woman in front of you being so kind that she makes your head spin. Or when she’s giving the softest forehead kisses in all of mankind and holding your hands with a delicateness you’ve never experienced. She’s not just holding your hands right now, she’s got your heart in the palm of her hands.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” You blurted out, sharply stepping back from her again.

“I know. You are the strongest person I’ve met, and you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. But who’s to say you can’t have someone by your side anyway?” She smiled like it was nothing. As if her words weren’t everything you’d ever wanted to hear. “Are you scared of me leaving?”

“Yes.” You whispered quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat and growing the confidence to look back up into her eyes.

“I’ve learnt a lot about you these past few months. Not a thing I now know has deterred me from you. I don’t think anything could. All I ask is that you take a chance and let me show you how much I adore and admire you. The feelings, the worries and doubts you have, they go both ways, cariño. I am worried that I might not be good enough for you and that I am not what you need. I am scared that I will get things wrong, and that I-”

You had heard enough, she’d proved her point.

You leant up on the balls of your feet, and kissed her. And she returned it almost instantly. Her hands dropped yours and landed on your hips, steadying you on your tip-toes. Yours wrapped around her neck, drawing her somehow closer. And just like everything had been so far with Alexia, it was easy. It was everything you dreamed of and more. Here, somewhere in Barcelona, not only had you made a life for yourself in just six months, you’d gained a new addition to it too.

Alexia had taught you a lot in the short time you had known her. But there was one thing that stood out to you; she had unknowingly taught you, just through her actions, that love is accommodation and consideration. It’s knowing what the other needs, and being there when they need it. It won’t be 50/50 everyday, in your case there will be times where it’s 90/10, and there will be occasions that are the same for Alexia. Your struggles don’t define you, and Alexia’s don’t define her. You’re worth it, just as much as she is. Just as much as everybody else.

Just because you’re stuck with a label for the rest of your life, a disability that beats you down when you want anything but that, those don’t mean that everything has to be hard. The truth is, when a genuine connection is found, things can be easy. They can be peaceful. With Alexia, you feel seen, as if you’re being mirrored back to yourself. Now, by loving the right person, you realise that other people shouldn’t always make you feel exhausted, they shouldn’t be the reason why you retreat back into yourself, and most importantly they shouldn't make you feel like you’re impossible to love.

Life will continue to try and break you down, there’s not a soul on earth that can entirely protect you from that, but having Alexia by your side, just like she said, can lessen the burden. After all, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, and joy shared is joy doubled. You have to live, you have to feel, you have to love, you have to take risks. Because if you hadn’t done that all along, where would you be now?

#woso x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femení #fcb femení x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #mapi león #ingrid engen #fridolina rolfö #alexia putellas x reader

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azsazz · 1 month

Text

Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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