#hard year for a football romantic

[lxlqzy]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN TONI KROOS IS RETIRING??? WHY IS EVERYBODY LEAVING OR RETIRING WTFFF?? THAT GUY WAS MY CHILDHOOD HERO TOGETHER WITH MARCO AND MATS?? ARE THEY ALL RETIRING????????????

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.

Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.

Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.

At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.

You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?

But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.

You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.

That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.

Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.

Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.

Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.

Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.

What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.

You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.

But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.

You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.

Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.

But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.

It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.

You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.

It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:

“Minhyuk proposed!”

Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”

You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.

“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.

Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.

“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”

Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”

Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”

Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“Well… about that…”

“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.

He turns to look at the rest of you.

“Well… you heard it from her.”

“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”

Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.

You laugh along with them.

But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.

Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.

“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”

She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.

They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.

“It was okay.”

You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.

“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.

“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.

It earns a laugh from you.

“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.

“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.

“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”

Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”

Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.

“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.

“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.

But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.

“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.

“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.

“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.

Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”

“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”

You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”

“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.

“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.

“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.

“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”

“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.

“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.

Everybody including you nod in understanding.

It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.

After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.

It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.

You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).

Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.

As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.

It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.

You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.

Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.

Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.

You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.

But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.

Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.

What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.

You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.

There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.

After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.

Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.

You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.

You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.

“Yo, what are you up to?”

You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.

“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.

“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.

Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.

“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.

You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”

You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.

“Yeah. You?”

Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.

“You’re driving.”

It earns an instant groan from you.

Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”

You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.

“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.

Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”

Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”

Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.

“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”

You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.

“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.

Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”

That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.

You both enter his car soon after.

“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.

“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.

“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.

“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”

You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.

“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”

“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.

Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”

“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”

“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”

That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.

There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.

“Hey, what was that earlier?”

“Hm?”

“In the locker room.” He says.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”

Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”

“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”

“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”

You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”

“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”

“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.

“If you say so.” He says after a while.

You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.

As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.

These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.

Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.

“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.

Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.

Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.

“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”

“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.

“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”

Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”

“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”

You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.

Still, you decide to lie.

“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”

“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”

You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.

“My nostrils do not flare up.”

“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.

You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”

Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.

A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.

It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.

The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.

“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.

You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”

Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”

You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”

Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.

Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.

You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.

“Miss?”

You look up, finding the owner of the voice.

And holy hell.

“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.

He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.

So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”

He nods. “Alone?”

“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”

“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”

You take his hand.

“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.

His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.

“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.

“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”

Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”

“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.

“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”

“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.

“I quit years ago.”

“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”

Mingyu nods.

“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”

“Not in the past few weeks, no.”

“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.

Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”

You still in your position.

Oh, right. There is more.

“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!

“Yes, I am.”

“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”

And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”

Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”

“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.

“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.

But Mingyu just laughs along with you.

“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”

You arch your brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”

You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”

Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.

“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.

But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.

“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.

Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”

Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”

“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.

You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.

“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”

Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.

“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.

“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.

Jungkook cuts in.

“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.

“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.

“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.

You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.

“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”

Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”

“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”

Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.

“I was just asking her out for a date.”

You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.

But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”

Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”

You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.

So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.

“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”

“Woah!”

“Jungkook, please knock!”

You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.

“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.

You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.

“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.

But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.

“What.”

“What are you so… dolled up for?”

You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”

Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.

Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.

The faux confidence falls as fast as that.

“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.

Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.

“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”

You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.

“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.

“You swear?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”

“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.

“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.

You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.

“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.

“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.

You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”

You put down the hair straightener.

“Yeah… why?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”

He nods his head. “That’s true.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.

“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.

You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.

“I wish it works out for you this time.”

Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.

Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”

“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.

You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.

But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.

You don’t ask.

You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.

“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball. 

“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.

You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.

“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.

Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.

You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”

The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.

“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.

“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.

From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.

You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.

“Oh my god, I did that!”

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.

You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.

Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.

“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.

“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.

The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.

“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”

“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.

“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”

You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”

Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”

You shake your head, laughing at him.

Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.

“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.

“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.

“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”

You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”

You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”

“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”

“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”

“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.

You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”

“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.

You nibble on your bottom lip.

“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”

“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”

Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.

It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.

You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.

“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.

You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.

“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”

Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.

Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”

He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.

“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.

Mingyu gives you a small smile.

“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”

What's the definition of slow, anyway?

The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.

Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.

So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.

And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.

You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.

Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.

You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.

“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.

You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.

“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.

“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.

You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”

As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.

“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”

The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.

“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.

Doyeon looks surprised as well.

You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.

“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.

But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.

“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”

“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.

But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.

“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.

You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.

Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.

It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.

“I’m coming with.”

Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”

You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”

“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.

“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”

You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”

“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.

Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.

“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.

In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.

“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”

Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.

“What the hell does that mean?”

You feel a slight pinch to your arm.

“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”

“I said it first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.

Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”

“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.

You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.

You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.

The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.

“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.

“Rude!” You pout at him.

“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”

“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.

After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.

It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.

But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!

“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.

And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.

“You’re drunk.” He announces.

You snicker. “I’m not.”

“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.

“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.

“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.

You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.

“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.

“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.

You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.

The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.

“Jungkook,” You call him.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to puke.”

Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.

“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”

He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…

Playground. The swings, in particular.

“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.

You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.

Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.

“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”

You get it from him and shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.

“Okay. Puke your heart out.”

You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.

Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”

“It’s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.

“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”

You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.

“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.

You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.

It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.

“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”

You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.

“Thanks, Kook.”

He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.

“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.

You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”

Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”

His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”

“Eh. I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

You look at him again. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I heard that.”

You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”

You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.

“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.

“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.

“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”

“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.

“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.

And then your laughter fades.

“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”

Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.

You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.

“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”

You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.

“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.

“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.

“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”

That makes your lips curl. Touched.

“You think so?”

Jungkook only nods.

“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.

“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”

“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”

Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”

“Okay, fuck off.”

You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.

As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”

He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”

When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.

“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”

The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.

It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.

But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.

And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.

Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.

Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.

“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.

When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.

“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.

“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.

You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.

“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…

“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”

Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.

“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”

“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.

Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“So?” You ask, waiting.

“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”

You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn’t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.

You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.

“Okay.” You say coolly.

Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”

“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”

His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.

Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I wish I can kiss you right now.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.

“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.

He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”

Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.

"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.

You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.

But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.

And the feeling’s more than mutual.

His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.

“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.

“Why don’t we go to your place?”

You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.

“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.

“You’ve never invited me to your place.”

At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.

“What?”

Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”

“Oh.”

He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.

Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.

“I have a roommate.”

There you let it out.

Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.

But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.

And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.

You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”

You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.

“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.

And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“She is, huh?”

Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.

Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.

“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.

“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…

You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.

“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”

“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”

Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.

“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,�� He says.

You arch your brow. “What is it?”

You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.

“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.

“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.

“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”

“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.

God, you like him so much.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.

“Of course.”

He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.

The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.

“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.

“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggle when he squeezes your waist.

“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.

You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.

You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.

Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.

“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.

"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.

Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.

Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.

It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.

But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.

You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.

For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."

He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.

As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.

You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"

“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You almost cry at his question.

“Yes,”

Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."  

And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.

You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.

Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.

Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.

"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.

You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.

As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.

"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"

He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.

"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"

Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.

"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"

He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.

It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.

Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.

"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"

“Yeah?”

He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.

When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“

Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.

And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.

Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.

“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”

And he does.

You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.

You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.

Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.

Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.

You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.

Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.

Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.

As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.

“Hey—”

“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”

Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.

Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.

“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.

“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.

“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”

Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.

“Mingyu, it’s not—”

“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.

Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”

“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”

You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.

“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”

He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.

Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”

“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.

But you worry about his words.

“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.

“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”

You give him a weak smile.

Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.

When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”

That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.

“Thank you too.”

“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.

You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.

When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.

“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.

“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”

You do a double take at his tone.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.

“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”

You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”

“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.

“Watch your goddamn tone.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”

Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”

“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”

The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?” 

“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.

“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.

“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”

Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”

You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.

Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.

The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.

In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.

It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.

Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.

But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?

“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.

When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.

“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.

Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.

… Maybe?

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.

One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.

PART TWO | PART THREE

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[inuyashaluver]

Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it

I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English

qué? - alexia putellas

alexia putellas x reader

description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand

warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics

a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.

—

you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.

even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.

you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.

when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.

you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.

and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.

you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.

when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.

—

“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.

“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.

“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.

“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.

“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.

“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.

during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.

—

when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.

lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.

when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.

and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.

“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.

“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.

“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.

due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.

what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.

she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.

she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.

—

weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.

the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.

the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.

—

one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.

“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.

you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.

as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.

when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.

“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.

her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.

“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.

she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.

the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.

“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.

you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.

“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.

“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.

“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.

you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.

“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.

alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.

“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?

“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.

you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.

—

when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.

“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.

her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.

you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.

everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.

by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.

when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.

—

on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.

in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.

she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.

you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.

at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.

“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.

“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.

the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.

“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.

you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.

“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.

“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.

what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.

“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.

—

that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.

you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.

“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.

what type of rejection was this?

“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.

“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.

“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.

you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.

“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.

“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.

“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.

she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.

you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.

she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.

—

when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.

now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.

the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx

liked by keirawalsh and 44,232 others

alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)

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yourname: mami

↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this

↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee

lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever

↳ yourname: shut up man

↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!

↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head

↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!

↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft

↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ One step at a time ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

You don't know how to swim Warnings: slight smut, suggestive themes.

Alexia has always known you had a slight fear of water, assuming it was just one of those phobias that people have. She honestly found it adorable at how you would cling to her around huge bodies of water. Your girlfriend was more than happy to play the hero when it came to you.

What she didn’t know however was that it wasn’t your fear of water that stopped you from joining her in the sea or in pools. The blonde wanted to kick herself for not noticing sooner. It was your first holiday alone together when your schedules weren’t jam packed.

It has been a very important year for the two of you. You had just bought a shared flat in Barcelona and you couldn’t be happier. Having a place with no interruption was pure bliss for the both of you, as you both relished in your shared intimacy.

Alexia has surprised you with the trip, a two week getaway on this incredibly romantic island to celebrate the huge step in your relationship. It was hard when you were in England, although it was incredibly worthwhile and you had achieved everything you had wanted there, you couldn’t be more happy than to finally settle down with the love of your life.

The few days you had been on the remote island were pure bliss. Free from all distractions and responsibilities as you and Alexia just enjoyed being young. You were quite proud of yourself for being able to keep your secret for so long. You knew she would catch on eventually but you didn’t want her to think any less of you. Your insecurity of not being able to swim, a basic skill that most people had, was at the back of your mind.

It was only a few days in when Alexia started getting suspicious, she had pleaded with you to go for one swim with her but you brushed her if nonchalanty, feeding her some poor excuse about how you had just gotten your hair done and you wanted to keep the fresh looking glow. That seemed to placate your girlfriend and you were more than happy to sit back and watch her from the sun lounger.

A sight she was, toned and tanned arms pulling the rest of her goddess-like body out of the pool. You were surprised your lip hadn't busted with how hard you were biting at it as her abs flexed deliciously. Your girlfriend sent you a cocky smirk as she made her way over to you, “Like what you see?” You huffed at her teasing tone but it didn’t stop you from taking your eyes down her body.

“Just take me to bed, Putellas.” You sighed knowing that’s where you would end up anyway. Alexia chuckled softly before throwing her towel on the empty lounger next to you, catching you with no effort at all as your legs wrapped around her waist. Teeth tugging at your earlobe softly as she husked into your ear, “As you wish Princesa.”

Another added bonus of renting out a private villa was that Alexia could quite literally have you anywhere she wanted, at any time she wanted and she took advantage of that, many times. You thanked whatever god there was that they gifted your girlfriend with the ability to play football because god that woman had stamina for days.

You had gotten away with your secret for nearly half the week before she caught on.

Your soft moans echoed around the luxurious villa, knuckles going white with how hard you gripped the sheets. Your hips bucked up to meet her gentle licks as huge hands slithered out from the covers to cup your breasts. It was your third orgasm of the day which was nothing compared to how many times she made you cum yesterday. You didn’t hear any complaints from the woman as she happily partook in her absolute favourite activity, making you cum.

Once your body stopped shaking and your heart rate slowed down a fraction, Alexia decided to make her appearance. Head popping up from the covers as she begrudgingly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was a sweaty mess from being trapped under the sheets, baby hairs sticking to her forehead as she rested her warm cheek against the cool pillow, half lying on top of you.

Her hand rubbed soothingly against your equally hot skin, she turned her body slowly while tangling your legs and cradling you to her chest. She kissed your forehead and then your cheek as you nuzzled into her.

“Ay dios, I need a swim after that.” She breathed, gathering her hair into a ponytail as she slowly pulled herself from the sticky sheets. “Vamos, amor! I’m not taking no for an answer.” Just as you were about to make another excuse, Alexia picked you up and the panic hit you.

“Alé no!” Without noticing the terror in your voice Alexia laughed it off thinking you were just being slightly dramatic. “Bebita, you haven’t swam with me once and your fear of water needs to stop.”

As you inch closer to the pool, your panic rises even further, “Alexia, I’m serious, put me down!” It was her full name and the cry of panic that had her gently placing you on the floor.

“Cariño?” She asked softly as your nails dug into the skin of her forearm, “Que pasa?” You couldn’t even look at her as you fidget with the rings on your finger. You mumbled something under your breath that Alexia couldn’t for her life decipher.

She gave you a knowing look and you sighed before stepping back out of her embrace. The blonde's eyebrows furrowed with worry and you decided that enough was enough.

“I can’t swim.” Alexia’s eyebrows rose in surprise and a soft smile took over her face. “I know, it’s stupid.” Alexia seemed to crash back to reality as she was quick to quell your rambling. She placed a quick but firm kiss against your lips, “Amor, why didn’t you tell me?” You tucked your face in her neck as she wrapped her arms around you protectively. “Amor?” She was coaxing you gently as you muttered shyly into her neck.

“I was embarrassed, it's embarrassing!” You whined softly. Alexia cooed, fingers digging softly into your waist, a small reminder that she was your best friend and you could tell her anything. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Your hand crept up to cup the back of her neck, any point of contact comforting you.

“So you never had a fear of water.” You giggled into her chest, “No, I’m sorry.” Alexia smiled teasingly, “You need to stop apologising.” You nodded, going to apologise again before Alexia silenced you with another soft kiss.

The day flew by with mild teasing from your girlfriend as the two of you lounged in the hot sun. Alexia was making dinner as you went to freshen yourself up, not liking how sticky the sun made you. Alexia was reminiscing about your earlier confession, hand stirring the sauce repeatedly to prevent it from burning.

That’s when the idea popped into her head, a proud smile sitting on her face. It stayed there as you came down the stairs, clad in one of her Barcelona jerseys and shorts. Alexia’s smile brightens as your smaller body clings to her much taller frame.

You didn’t notice anything weird until you both sat down on the couch with your bowls. You happily accepted the bite she offered you, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy her meal if she didn’t give you the first bite.

The mischievous smile crept onto her face as you flicked through the channels. You gave her an apprehensive look as she tilted her head, a strong sign that she was about to suggest something that you wouldn’t like.

“Spit it out Putellas.” You raised an eyebrow, “Mi princesa.” She started, grabbing the bowl and placing it on the table so she had your full attention. You knew you really weren’t going to like it when her hand slid down to your bare thigh, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Let me teach you how to swim.” You were immediately shaking your head, “Here me out!” She guided your leg over hers as she manoeuvred you to straddle her. You didn’t meet her hazel eyes, knowing you would cave. Alexia knew you too well though, hand cradling your jaw to look down at her.

“Ale!” You whined as her lips grazed your neck. “Come on mi amor, I promise we can go slow.” She tried again, knowing that you were gonna agree. Her teeth sunk into the skin of your neck softly, “Fine.” You grumbled as she quietly cheered against the column of your throat.

You didn’t think much of it for the rest of the night, your girlfriend proving to be far too distracting to pay anything else even an ounce of attention. It wasn’t until you were rudely awakened by a piercing screech of whistle, you shot up in bed prepared to make your girlfriend fight the intruder.

The said intruder was your girlfriend. A gold whistle hanging from her mouth and sunglasses covering her pretty eyes. You stare up at her incredulously, “Why the fuck do you have a whistle!” Alexia blew it again, “Do not question your coach.” You scoffed before pulling the sheet above your head, you heard the older girl sigh, smiling happily to yourself thinking you had won until you were swooped up into her strong arms.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, bebita?” You slapped softly at her tanned shoulder defeatedly as she walked the two of you out to the pool. “Can I atleast get a kiss?” You grumbled, cupping the back of her neck, “If I ever say no to that cariño, you can shoot me.” You smile playfully into the kiss, biting at her bottom lip for her effortless display of strength. She didn’t even quiver with the weight of you.

She let you down slowly, stealing one more kiss before going back into coach mode. “¡Vamos amor! Stretch.” You glare at her as she blows her whistle, and you sit on one of the beds, “If you blow that whistle one more time, I swear to god!” Alexia only smirks cockily with the whistle in her mouth, “You love it.” You tried to contain your smile but hers was infectious.

“I’ve just eaten Alexia, I can’t swim.” Alexia sends you a look, “That’s a myth.” You grumbled at her quick comeback, “It’s dangerous to swim when you're tired.” Alecia smirked at this and raised her eyebrows suggestively, “Bebita, You could be a lot more tired if I had my way.” You huffed again, standing up and hitting her shoulder playfully. You dipped your toe into the water and squealed, “It’s too cold!” Alexia sighs incredulously, “You’re just making excuses at this point.”

“Bien, bien. Come here.” She resigned, holding out her hand for you to take, which you did gladly. She picked up on your apprehension quickly, “Hey, I will be right here the whole time.” You stared up at her, “You promise.” She laughs softly, kissing your cheek, “Sí, the whole time.” You nodded, pursing your lips for another kiss which she was quick to give.

You only caught the pile of pool noodles when you looked over her shoulder, “Can I have a purple one?” You asked adorably. Alexia’s shoulders shook in a quiet chuckle, “Of course you can amor.” You let out a happy giggle before running over to grab one.

“Okay you ready?” You looked at her strangely, “Where’s my life jacket?” Alexia laughed as she guided you over to the ladder. It was when she saw your serious expression did she stop laughing. You waited patiently with your arms out. Alexias opened and closed her mouth a few times, genuinely not knowing how to respond.

She descended into laughter again but this time she had to bend over with how much her abdomen hurt from laughing. You crossed your arms and pouted, all you needed to do was stamp your foot and you would be having a full blown tantrum. “Lo siento, lo siento!” She laughed out, trying to catch her breath from her fit.

“You don’t need a life jacket.” You opened your mouth to protest but a slender finger covered it, “ Nope, you don’t need one.” Alexia eased herself into the water, trying to coax you in after her. “Alright, I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” Her smile told you that you could trust her and you knew that but you were still nervous.

You sat down at the edge of the pool, both of your feet submerging in the water. “Good job amorcita!” She waded over to stand in between your legs, a comforting hand sliding up your thigh as you tried to calm down.

“What if I drown?” You ask fearfully, eyes widening as you start to pull your legs out in a panic. Her hands tightened around your legs, restricting your movement and effectively stopping you from your panic. “I’m not going to let you drown.” She muttered softly, leaning up to kiss you reassuringly.

“Besides the water is five feet deep, I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” You giggled softly at her joke, wrapping your legs around her and pulling her that much closer. Alexia kisses your collarbone gently, before her hands slid along your hip bone. She gently lifted your body and eased you into the water. You sighed in relief as your feet touched the bottom comfortably.

“Don’t let go.” The blonde chuckled, guiding you to wrap your legs around her waist again. “Oh, I won’t.” Alexias kissed you deeply, temporarily forgetting what her job was.

After a few more minutes of heated kissing, Alexia decided to show you an example. She deposited you against the edge of the pool that you immediately clung onto. She laughed endearingly before showing you the basics of swimming. She effortlessly glided through the water and you bit your lip at how her muscles rippled with each pump of her arm.

You watched in horror as she ducked underneath the water and reappeared again. “I’m not doing that.” You warned as she shook and swiped a few stray strands of her wet hair back into place. “One step at a time.” She reminds you, holding out her hands for you to grab instead of mauling the wall.

Alexia gently guided you to the deeper end, you had strayed to calm down at her constant reminder that she wouldn’t let go of you for a second. Ever the coach, she had you laying on your back and floating in under three minutes.

The actual swimming part was harder than she had expected but she was so patient. Your legs flailed as you tried desperately to kick, getting more water in Alexia’s mouth than your own. Alexia had to put you in time out for kicking her square in the jaw, twice.

“You’re lethal.” You winced apologetically, stroking the sore spot on her jaw, “I’m so sorry.” She kisses your hand, a smile letting you know she was only teasing. “What have I told you about apologising bebita?”

Alexia convinced you to try again and this time you managed to stay afloat without any stray kicks to the face. You were eternally grateful with how patient she was as she encouraged you every step of the way. You were rewarded with kisses which only prompted you to do better.

Eventually it came the time where she had to let you go. Surprisingly you were determined to do it by yourself, wanting to impress your coach. “Are you sure you’re ready?” She had asked worriedly, “I mean it’s your first day!” You scoffed and prepared yourself, pushing her away softly. “What was it you said? One step at a time. Well I’ve reached this step and now you need to let me go.” Alexia bit her lip before nodding, pride shining in her hazel eyes as she stepped back.

You moved at snail pace but you managed to get to the other side, Alexia’s comforting words getting you there. Once you were safely clutching at the wall you let out a squeal of excitement, looking back at your girlfriend was making her way over with a huge smile lighting up her face. The blonde wasted no time in picking you and parading you around the pool,

“I’m so proud of you mi princesa!” She praised holding you close as she pressed her lips to every inch of your face. “Thank you for teaching me.” You sighed, kissing her soundly.

Once the excitement died down, you felt a little silly for celebrating something so basic. Alexia always read you like a book and this was no different. Instead of forcing it out of you she decided to wait for you to formulate your words, leaving soft kisses to your jaw.

“I feel like this is something I should have known..” You finally admit, fingers playing with the whistle around her neck. Alexia’s eyes softened at your deflated form before lightly scolding you, “Hey, It’s fine. There’s so many people who don’t know how to swim.” You didn’t look reassured so she gently forced you to look at her, “It's the first day, you’re not going to be perfect.”

You continued playing with the whistle as a small smile rested on your face. You were so in love with the woman in front of you, it was kind of ridiculous.

“I love you.” You breathed out, palm coming to rest upon her cheek as you pulled her down to rest her forehead against yours. She smiled lovingly, eyes shining with pure adoration as she kissed you yet again, “Te amo mucho my little fish.” You cringed as she laughed loudly, hand coming up to cover her mouth in pure embarrassment.

“You just ruined the moment Alé.”

All prompts used are from @novelbear 🫶

[wosowrites]

Good Girl (Ona Batlle x Reader)

warnings: smut, pr@ise k!nk

a/n: based off this request here and it is not proof read sorry.

prompt: in which it’s Ona and the readers first time sleeping together so the reader gets really nervous, resulting in Ona taking over and showing her dominant side.

You were extremely outgoing. You were the loudest in the changing rooms, the one who played the music, the first on the dance floor and the last to back down from a challenge. When you scored the opening goal or any goal during a tournament you made sure the whole stadium could hear your screams of joy. Your celebrations were famous throughout the women’s football community. So that’s why no one could have ever expected how absolutely nervous and almost submissive you were in bed.

When Ona found this out… she could not have been more pleased.

There had been some flirting between you and Ona for a year now. But it was very hard to tell what was just good old spanish friendliness and what was genuine romantic interest. The line was thin.

Ona would hold you close to her for long periods of time, guide you by your waist through crowds, kiss your cheek dangerously close to your lips, let her hand rest low on your hips and make a point of hugging you often when you were out on swim trips together. Nothing drove her more insane than the feeling of your skin on hers.

But neither of you had ever given in to your desires, both assuming the other wasn’t interested. You proved the other wrong in a hotel pool.

Manchester was playing Aston Villa in London and Mark had decided to let the team have the day off in London so the team would be arriving 24 hours before the game, spending the night at a hotel and then having a quick morning training session before the 3:00 pm game.

You all walked London, checking out landmarks and eating strongly mediocre food. Although your english was flawless and you barely had an accent, you were french Canadian and had played in France so you often missed the food in France.

By 9:00 most girls were lying in bed as instructed, but because you were rooming by yourself this time around due to an un even number of people there was no one to tell you to stay in bed. So, you slipped your bathing suit on and headed to the roof where there was a pool.

You loved swimming, especially in London spring. It was chilly and the water, cold as well, made your body feel good and helped you forget about every worry and unwelcome thought in your head.

You climbed to the roof, happy to see it deserted. You threw your towel to the side and then dived into the deep end. You loved the water so much because when you were around water during your childhood, it was one of the rare times you were happy. You let the water consume you and wash away your thoughts. You thoughts of tomorrows game, thoughts of the fight against Canada Soccer, thoughts of Ona…

But the second your brain wandered to Ona you couldn’t help it. When Ona was in your brain, so was her body. The way her hand we’re carved out to perfection, the shape of her chest under her training top and the way her arms flexed when she took shots.

All these thoughts ran through your head in only a couple seconds and then you emerged out of the water.

"Night swim?" a voice asked while your eyes were still closed due to you recently emerging from the water.

"Holy crap. Do not sneak up on me like that!" you squealed, opening your eyes and pushing your hair back and away from your face. "Sorry chica," Ona said with a wink.

You swam towards her to the edge of the pool, crossing your arms on the deck and looking up at her. The spaniard slipped off her shorts and hoodie, revealing her abs, arm muscles and tattoos. You stared to say the least until Ona snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you blush. "Sorry," you mumbled. "Don’t apologize, I’m looking at you too," she said, dipping her feet into the pool.

It was hard to tell with the young defender, hard to know what was flirting and what was just classic Ona.

"The waters really nice," you said to her, pushing your feet against the wall and gliding on your back, away from Ona and into the shallow end.

You held eye contact with the brunette, until a glow came across her face. "How much trouble do you think we would get in if we skinny dipped?" Ona said, walking around the pool towards you.

"Skinny dipping?!" you shrieked, taken aback and sounding a little more childish and stuck up than you wanted. You wanted the spaniard to think of you as being fun and loose. "Yeah y/l/n," she answered with a playful smirk. "Well. Jeez I think we’d get in a lot of trouble," you answered with a concerned frown on your face. "So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it?" Ona said, pushing a little further.

She had never seen this side of you before. You were always loud, energetic, and borderline agressive. This? This was different.

"No! I mean. No. I-yes. Yes I would like it," you blushed, starting to head into Ona’s direction.

She watched you with unblinking eyes as you swam up to her and stood up in the shallow end. Ona sat down with her toes in the water and spread her legs slightly for you to stand between, focusing on the small piece of cloth keeping you decent. "There aren’t any cameras, I asked," Ona said to you, looking up from your chest and into your eyes. "Something about not violating the privacy of the clients. Hotel policy," she added. "Mhm," you said softly, looking up into Ona’s eyes.

Your angle gave her a perfect view of you. Your wet hair, your sparkling body decorated with droplets of water. "You look beautiful," Ona said softly, just barely audible over the sound of the street below and your racing heart. "Where is all of this coming from?" you said softly, suddenly avoiding eye contact with her. "It’s coming from the fact that you are beautiful. Not just right now but always. And I may have had a drink and one drink Ona is extremely confident," she said, using her index to lift your chin.

The spaniard was now sitting on the edge of the pool with only a red bathing suit on to cover her up. Her stomach was toned and her arms were strong. Not in a threatening way, just in a hot way.

"No cameras, you said?" you whispered, your voice a hushed sound. "No cameras," she said, leaning back and subtly flexing her abdominals.

You were still standing between her legs and you gently placed your hands on her thighs, digging your nails into them softly and surely leaving little crescents on her skin. She didn’t even flinch.

Ona sat up straight and then stood up, giving you a look to follow her. You pushed yourself out of the pool and stood facing the slightly taller girl.

Her eyes were dark and hungry, but also warm and welcoming. She had always had that contrast. The one of always being alert and the one of being laid back. It was a strange mix.

The spaniard turned around and moved her loose hair out of the way, brining it to lie on her front. You saw that the back of her suit was tied by a string and slowly, with shaking hands, you lifted them up and grabbed both ends of the tie.

The way the strings fell apart freely and then slipped off Ona’s shoulder sent your body into over drive. You stood with your hands hovering over her bare back until she slowly turned around to face you. Your eyes brushed over her bare chest before landing on her eyes. "You’re beautiful. Tu est tellement parfaite." You told her adoringly. She smiled at you, a big toothy grin before slipping her thumbs under her bikini bottom and pulling it off.

You mimicked her, letting her unclasp the back of your bathing suit and then letting it fall to the ground. She put her hands on your waist and turned you around.

You felt like a ballerina.

A super gay, super secretly in love ballerina.

Ona slipped off your bottoms and then cupped your face gently. "Ready?" she asked you, her voice steady while you knew yours would be hectic. "Yeah," you let out.

Ona went in first, lowering herself to the pool and then turning to face you. You threw a worried glance behind your shoulder, half expecting someone to come in screaming at you both, but no one did. So, you walked down the stairs leading to the pool and pushed your way towards Ona. "I can’t believe we’re doing this," you laughed, avoiding eye contact with her. "I can’t believe your so shy. You’re usually loud and excited. Confident," she added.

"I’m not not confident… this is just new," you said, raising your head.

You gently placed your hands on Ona’s hips and rubbed your thumbs around her hip bone. The taller girl gently pulled you in by pushing your lower back closer to her. You moved your hands up from her hips to her ribs and then down to her ass. "Kiss me," you said to her, looking between her eyes and lips.

She did not have to be begged, within milliseconds her lips were trapped into yours, her hands had found shelter on your ass before slipping down to your thighs to pull your legs around her waist. You roughly kissed back, letting her hands roam your hair and using your abs to hold yourself up onto her. Ona’s hands traced every curve, every perfection, every part of yourself that you deemed an imperfection but she thought beautiful. You wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, playing with her baby hairs and scratching the back of her head with your nails. Ona took strides through the water to drop you onto the side of the pool, only separating your lips when necessary.

"Ona," you said to her tentatively as you sat on the poolside, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, mi amor," she said, holding you down gently by placing her hands on your thighs. "I’ve never… done this before," you said, thankful for the dark sky as your cheeks got flushed. "What do you mean? Sex? You’ve never had sex?" she asked, slightly shocked. "Ona! Of course I have," you groaned, pushing her slightly and making her send you a classic dazzling smile. "I mean something like this. In this setting. This is… daring," you told her. "Well then, you’re in luck pretty girl. Spaniards love the extra risk," she said.

Ona put her hand on your chest and pushed you down into a laying position. The taller girl bends your knees and places kisses on your thighs before spreading them to her liking. She took no time and gave you no warning before slipping a finger into you. You were already wet from her kissing you and un clothing you, your walls closing around her and making her laugh at you.

Ona pumped her middle finger into you, curling it from time to time and making you arch your back and try to grab on to the concrete desperately.

"Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job, cariña," Ona praised.

Her words caught you off guard, your eyes flying open and a small smile forming on your face. Your hips bucked and your legs shook, partly from the oncoming orgasm and partly from the effect of her words. Ona chuckled at you as a wave of courage came over you.

"Ona. I need to come, touch me please," you begged her. "One thing at a time mi vida."

The defender made it seem as though she wouldn’t relieve you immediately, but how wrong you were. A couple seconds later, Ona had pulled out her fingers, leaving you with an uncomfortable empty feeling before pushing her face in between your legs. The brunette swiped her tongue through your lips before harshly pressing it against your clit.

Your hips went flying off the surface, grinding into her head and pushing your wetness more and more into her face. She could have gotten high off your smell and the way you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of her name.

Ona was clearly experienced, the girl finding the perfect balance of sweet spots praise, and pleasure. You never wanted her to stop.

But eventually, when the spaniard dragged her nails over your bare abs and then latched onto your nipple, there was nothing more you could do to elongate the feeling of her face between your legs. You came onto her shaking and crying out, feeling slightly embarrassed at how easily she had made you cum.

Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved heavily, the heat in your stomach slightly fading but the ache in between your legs still present.

You heard movement in the water and soon enough the naked brunette was towering over you. "You did such a good job pretty girl," she said, looking down at you with a teasing smirk.

You knew your face turned bright red when the heat in your stomach transferred to your face.

Ona held out her hand and you grabbed it happily, letting her pull you up. You weren’t on your feet long though as your legs gave out, making Ona grab you underneath the arms and hold you steady. "You okay?" she asked you lovingly, her eyes wide and concerned, hoping not to have hurt you. "Yes. More than, It’s just been a while and you’re…" you gave her a little 'you know' look and she smiled.

Despite being not so tall, she was strong. Before you knew it, you were being carried bridal style towards picnic tables on the pool deck. You rested your head on Ona’s chest and closed your eyes for a couple seconds before opening them. "Wait. I want too- to you. I’m not a pillow princesse," you said to her, looking up. "Another day amor you’re clearly tired," she answered.

The spaniard sat you onto the table and grabbed your towel, gently using it to wipe you down. You surely hadn’t realized how much love was in your eyes as she helped you get dressed into your bathing suit again, but she did. She noticed how dilated your pupils were and how your hands grazed her and held on to her every time she was near.

"Thank you," you told her, leading her to stand between your legs once she was clothed as well. Ona dipped her head and rested it on yours, rubbing her thumb on your cheekbones. You raised yours pull her in by the waist before tilting your head and kissing her sweetly.

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for katie where her and reader have a child and readers admiring them playing together

Mo Stór

Katie McCabe x reader

-> Watching Katie play with your daughter will never get old

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

People could say all they wanted about Katie on and off the pitch, and no matter what she did there would always be someone who would not like her – so she gave up on getting people to like her and just started being herself.

That’s why you fell in love with her all those years ago. It was so easy to fall in love because the Irish woman was just so lovable.

When the then twenty-two-year-old had returned from her loan spell to Glasgow City, she was a changed woman – more mature with more bite and goals in life as she returned to Arsenal, and you. You, her girlfriend since 2015 – but that title would not hold much longer, because upon returning, Katie proposed to you.

It was a lovely day in – you had woken up together and prepared a nice brunch before going for a walk outside. It was as romantic as Katie would get, still keeping her humor that had won you over in the first place – handing you a ring-pop at first before pulling out the real one.

The wedding was small but everything both of you wanted, taking place in Katie's hometown of Tallaght where you had set up in a stunning barn. The footballer’s entire family was there, as were most of the Arsenal girls that could make it – for you however, there were just a couple of friends that had come.

Same-sex marriage had only been legal for two years in Ireland It was after the wedding that it would be legalized in Germany where you were from. And while your parents were not necessarily against it, they also weren’t fans of it – opting not to make an appearance.

Later in the year, in October 2017, after many conversations you had started the first round of IVF, thankful for the chance of having a baby together. And to everybody’s surprise, it worked. The first round worked. Both of you were incredibly happy and after a hard pregnancy, Aine Lily McCabe joined your little family in July of 2018.

---

---

Now in 2023, the five-year-old was still the light of your life – making every single day better than it already was. You thought life couldn’t get better after Katie, but you were wrong, Aine made life just a little more colorful.

With Katie being a footballer, her schedule could be crazy, but your teacher lifestyle came with a very consistent week, which made everything much easier, there always would be difficulties - like on that particular day. Aine’s Kindergarten was closed due to sickness, but you had to work – leaving Katie with her spitting image at the Arsenal training grounds.

You had been scared that the day would end in a catastrophe, but the girls loved ‘their youngest member’ and Jonas was happy to have her as well as she was a nice distraction from the serious topics and hard training.

After finishing for the day, instead of heading home, you opted for the Arsenal Training Center, desperate to see your girls after a long day. Once parked, you didn’t even need to check inside, hearing the girls yell from the pitch – so you just followed their noise.

It was now the midst of October and the Arsenal girls were preparing for their game against Aston Villa. You could see your breath due to the cold, as you walked the way to the pitch. It was chaotic, and the girls were playing matches on smaller fields, with fewer people – but there were 2 games at the same time.

You could see Aine sitting on a jacket by the side of the pitch, a beanie much too big to be her own, on her little head, hiding her brown hair. She was dressed appropriately in a warm sweater, with a big jacket on top, not even remotely cold as you shivered on your way. Pulled over her jacket was a bright yellow bib, that marked one team from the other. And after a glance, your guess was confirmed, that Katie was also wearing yellow.

“Hiya baby!” The little brunette squealed as you plucked her off the ground, swinging her back and forth before sitting down with her on your lap. “Mommy!” Wet kisses were littered all over your face – something else that she copied from her mother. “I missed youuu!” She sang the last ‘u’ while pouting adorably. “Missed ya too baby.”

A shrill whistle marked the end, two sets of women cheering in victory, as the opposing teams looked disappointed. It didn’t take your wife long to join you, taking her biggest fan out of your arm, and settling her on her hip, before pulling you up by your hands. You couldn't even register anything as fast as she had already roped you into a deep kiss, as Aine hid her face in Katie's neck. “Come on a stór – show me watch ya got.”

Katie had taken her little stór, her treasure with her, setting her down and explaining where to steal a ball from, when a long, lanky arm found its way around your shoulders. Viv was smiling at you, giving you a quick hug, before Beth could get there first. “What a bad wife you have – doesn’t even give you a jacket.”

The three of you chuckled as you pushed the blonde off, picking up Katie's discarded jacket from the ground, and pulling it over your own. It was nice to chat with them even if you saw them just a couple of days ago – there was always new gossip to gather. The whole team was obsessed with your student's gossip – and while you would never tell important or confidential stuff, the ‘who-loves-who’ was very interesting to the footballers.

“Oh, look at Aine go!” It was Alessia who made you look back to your daughter. The five-year-old was sprinting down the pitch, Kyra by her side as Katie was ‘trying’ to defend the goal where Sabrina jumped from left to right. The Australian passed Aine the ball, who just stretched her leg out and it went in. Leaving a stunned Katie and Sabrina.

Loud cheers made your daughter shy, as Kyra picked her up, throwing her in the air and catching her again. The brunette walked over to her mom, hiding in her legs, with a broad smile on her face. “Mama, I made it!” Your wife could not help but laugh “You did baby, but right now, I’m your opponent, not your friend, right?” She had crouched down by now, wiping some dirt off your daughter’s face. “No, you are Mama. My Mama.”

Meanwhile, you stood at the side of the pitch, staring at your gorgeous wife and daughter. Viv and Beth were quite amused at your speechlessness. “Recon if they were alone Mrs. McCabe would jump her bones right here and now.” You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at your friend. “Beth!” The couple walked away chuckling to themselves.

You had not moved an inch, watching Katie kick the ball at Aine, who sent it back to her. It was adorable. Whenever a ball went to wide, Katie would run after it, reassuring her daughter that she did a great job. Big smiles on both their faces. Smiles that looked almost identical.

Katie was so incredibly great with Kids, that it made you cry sometimes. She would always make time for the little girls and boys who wanted her attention or signature, even if she was already late. She really listened to them, getting on their level, meeting their eyes, and never took them as too young or inexperienced when she talked about something serious. Katie took the time to explain, helping your daughter with homework when you were just too tired.

Your wife by now had noticed your starring, a smirk on her face as she sent Aine to go with Kyra to the changing rooms. Your daughter abruptly took the Australian's hand, tugging her with her. Once Katie stood in front of you, she covered your very cold ears with her warm hands, giving you a passionate kiss after making sure that you were the last ones outside. “What are ya starring at, lovie?”

The smile on your face was love-drunk, and Katie loved it. “I want another one.” You had buried your head in her neck, trying to hide your hot face – but she quickly nudged you out of it. “Huh? Repeat that for me, my love.”

Her smirk was unbearable to look at, as hot as it was. “Could’ve sworn ya said you want another one.” Your nod was enough to earn you another searing kiss that left you breathless. “I really do Katie. Do you- I mean do you want another one?”

“Mama! Kyra stole my shoeeee!” Your wife pressed her forehead against yours, keeping you close. “We’ll talk about it when we get home, yeah?”

“Kyra! Give it baack! Mama!” Apparently, Aine had found herself a big sister in the Australian who was standing in the hallway, holding a tiny shoe in her hand, pretending to throw it outside. “I’m coming mo stór!”

[midnightarsenal]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞

Summary: Some old tweets come out and it puts you between a rock and a hard place.

Warning: Internalized Homophobia

Word Count: 2.6k

Arsenal Training Centre, St. Albans

///

You could sense the tension in the air before you'd even stepped through the doors.

...

The past few days had made you a bit of a nervous wreck. The result of some Sam Kerr fan account on Instagram posting a collection of old tweets you'd made nine years ago, back when you were 13.

Old, profoundly homophobic tweets.

And while some fans, mostly those already partial to you, had taken that substantial amount of time and your youth into account, many others had not. Instead, they hurled abuse alongside calls for the club to drop you at the earliest possible opportunity. You'd even tried disabling comments on your most recent social media posts before quickly realizing that the comments would simply move to older ones. Despite how bad some of them had become, you still found yourself not quite willing to disable the comments on every post you had ever made.

It was your own fault anyway. You had been signed by Arsenal a few months ago, having spent the years before that going from one mediocre team to the next until your international performance in Australia had seemingly caught the attention of several larger clubs, the Gunners included. You'd been positively over the moon when your management agency had called to give you the good news. It should have been your big break, and for a period of time, it was, but a position in such a prestigious club came with a level of increased publicity that you hadn't been fully prepared for.

You knew that you should have purged your Twitter before the contract had even been made public, but you'd long forgotten about those posts, those awful comments, and bigoted 'jokes' that your massively insecure thirteen-year-old self had felt the need to put out into the world to try and convince everyone that you were certifiably straight. To convince yourself in some deluded way that you did not frequently lose sleep over the increasingly intrusive and borderline distressing thoughts that plagued you every time you were around some of your friends at school and the teammates at your youth football academy.

Those thoughts just hadn't been you, of course. Because you were straight.

Or, at least that's what thirteen-year-old you had wanted to think at the time.

In the teenage years that followed those tweets, you had eventually been able to come to terms with your sexuality. It had been a slow, long, and painfully drawn-out process, but while the influence of your conservative family had worked to reinforce the close-minded worldview you had been raised with, being around so many openly gay women in your football career had ultimately proven to be a much stronger force in your life. To see that contrary to what you had been told, these supposedly evil and degenerate people were in fact perfectly ordinary and typically far kinder than the 'just' and 'moral' types you had been surrounded by in your childhood.

But, while you had gradually been deprogrammed from the more outwardly hostile and bigoted elements of how you'd been brought up, you had never quite gotten around to being proud of who you were, to being able to let yourself embrace what you felt and to let yourself be happy. Even today, all these years later, you still struggled to imagine yourself feeling the warmth of another woman, a woman you could love as more than just a friend, and a woman who you could feel comfortable telling the world about.

So, you had simply tried to ignore your feelings. Even as you went from teenager to adult and semi-professional to professional, you resigned yourself to a world in which love was an impossibility, where every teasing question from a friend about your romantic endeavors was expertly deflected with a non-committal answer and a change of topic.

You had learned to be happy for the women in your life who were openly gay and celebrated their relationships sincerely like a good friend would, but you could never deny yourself the reality that every time a close friend announced their new partner, you would feel a twinge of remorse, pain that was sourced from fleeting, quickly suppressed thoughts of a life not lived, an opportunity not taken, and a romance denied its potential. It was a sad way to live, but as sad as it was, the thought of telling the world that you were gay was even worse. It had always been worse.

...

And so now, as the sliding doors of the training centre's lobby parted, you found it a difficult task to keep your nerves from becoming overwhelming.

Management had already spoken to you about the tweets and the response on social media to them. Fortunately, no proper news outlet had put out an article on the 'situation' yet, but the club's PR people had seemed pretty nervous that eventually, one of them would. You'd told them that you hadchanged since you were thirteen and that you'd be more than willing to put out an apology. But, ultimately, their advice had been for you to simply stay quiet and hope it all went away on its own. Something that you had been less than thrilled to hear, as if you were ever confronted by a scenario in which it didn't just go away on its own, and eventually you were told to put out an apology, it would likely be too late by the time that you did.

"Morning, Y/N." you were taken away from your thoughts by the young woman at the front desk, Catherine. She was smiling, but you could tell it was a bit of a sympathetic smile, like the woman was trying to show that she was on your side. You appreciated the sentiment, of course, but being treated differently at all because of this was only making your nerves worse.

"Heya." you tried to greet back casually with a smile of your own, and despite your best efforts, it came across as an 'I know' type of smile, a visual confirmation that you acknowledged what had been happening on the Internet these past few days, and her small attempt to make you feel better.

You had almost passed her, ready to head deeper into the large facility when you abruptly stopped and asked, "Any of the other girls here before me?" To which the shorter woman behind the desk nodded, her demeanour steady in its sympathy towards you, knowing why you would be asking. After all, you were on a team with two gay relationships within it, let alone the number of players who just swung that way in general. And aside from the occasional joke or tease (the latter of which often hurt you to an extent that none of your new friends could possibly know), you were pretty certain that none of them actually thought you were a part of that category.

None of the girls had messaged you in the past twenty-four hours, which, while a little uncommon, wasn't an immediate tell that you had been made a pariah. The last message you'd gotten had been from Steph asking if you were available for a coffee date on Saturday, and that had been just over a day ago. Late enough to have been after that stupid account had posted those screenshots, but early enough to have been before many people knew about it.

Fuck, this was really getting to you.

You continued your way down the corridors of the training centre, each heartbeat feeling a little heavier than the last as you drew closer to the locker room. Knowing that at least a few of the girls would be there this early in the morning, getting changed or having a shower or just socializing as they waited for others to arrive. You wondered if they were talking about you, and if they were, what they were saying. You were wondering if they had already agreed to shun you, or even speak to Jonas about getting rid of you. Fuck, this was fucking getting to you.

You gripped the handle of the bag slung over your shoulder a little tighter as you approached the locker room and took a breath before opening the door, a hundred different scenarios having crossed your mind from the time you'd left the lobby to now.

Stepping into the locker room, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to what you had braced yourself for. It was business as usual—some of the girls were chatting casually, others were prepping their gear. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the hope that perhaps they hadn't seen those tweets or had chosen to ignore them.

But as you made your way to your locker, you could feel eyes on you. Some were quick glances, laced with uncertainty or curiosity, while others held longer, more contemplative stares. No one said anything directly, but the air was thick with unspoken questions and possible conclusions. It was hard to tell.

You kept your head down, focusing on getting ready. The sound of your locker door clanging shut seemed to echo louder than usual, and as you changed into your training gear, you pondered over your next steps. Ignoring the issue didn't feel right, but neither did addressing it without a plan.

"Hey," just then, your attention was taken by the sound of a voice that you quickly recognized as Katie's, her Dublin twang thick as always. The defender's expression was hard to read as she approached, and she sat down next to you, continuing after you replied, "Morning." Your voice was small, and your throat tightened a little, Katie was one of the closer friends you'd made in your somewhat limited time at the club, and her opinion mattered to you.

"Listen, I heard about the tweets," she started, and while you braced yourself for what might come next, you couldn't help but notice her tone being somewhat gentler than you'd expected, but still straightforward. "And, I wanted to say..." she continued, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. But, then she stopped, if only for a few seconds, and frowned slightly, though seemingly more to herself than to you. She looked like she was thinking about something, something about you, perhaps.

"Well, I don't know what I wanted to say exactly... but I'm here if you want to talk, or if you need anything, really."

Wait.

What?

You must have had a look on your face because the Irishwoman spoke up again. "Like, if you have anything you wanna get off your chest. I'm here for you, all of the girls are." She remained gentle, but you could tell that heart-to-hearts weren't exactly Katie's style (not that this surprised you) from the way she looked a little awkward, but her sincerity remained all the same.

Breathing just the slightest bit faster, it took you another second or two before you replied, "A lot of the girls?" One of your brows lifting curiously. Was... she implying what you were beginning to think she was implying?

Did Katie know think you were gay?

"Yeah. We care about ya, dummy. And unless you really are some horrible bigot, nothing you say is gonna change that." Katie smiled at that remark and you couldn't help but reflect her, shaking your head lightly in response. "I'm not," you confirmed, your eyes connecting with Katie's. "I was just... different then... I was—" You went to continue, but cut yourself off, your breath almost hitching as you caught yourself at the last moment from finishing that sentence.

I was afraid.

You could virtually see the defender's gaze softening on you in real time and you couldn't bear the sight of it anymore, glancing away and turning your attention to your shoes. The locker room around the pair of you was beginning to fade into the backdrop, although you got the feeling that it hadn't just been Katie's eyes on you. Even as you observed the details of your trainers, you could practically feel the woman next to you's gaze wandering off every few moments to the others in the room, maybe looking for assistance, or trying to convey her unspoken suspicion.

"You were what?" You heard, and this time it wasn't Katie who spoke. It was Beth, who was standing a short distance away by her own cubby. Immediately proving that your heart-to-heart with Arsenal's number 15 hadn't been quite so exclusive, and the locker room's sudden silence ironically brought it right back to the forefront of your attention. Everyone was listening, and many of them staring as well. Was this what they had been talking about before you'd shown up? Had they been in here putting together dots you hadn't known existed? A longing gaze you hadn't suppressed or one too many comments about the eyes or legs of another woman that you'd thought would simply slip under the radar as casual observation? Were those tweets the final confirmation they needed?

Was this the supposed 'gaydar' you had heard about?

"Nothing." you retorted swiftly, shaking your head again as you reached into your locker to resume getting dressed. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact you'd stopped when Katie had come over to talk to you, but the girls didn't seem intent on letting this moment slip away, and you could see Beth approach from your peripheral vision even as you tried to focus on getting changed. You were beginning to almost feel trapped, though you were certain that the culprit behind that particular feeling was more likely to be yourself than your teammates.

"Y/N, we're your friends." Beth said, kneeling down to eye level, while Katie still sat beside you, staring into the side of your head with an expression that was unusually gentle and almost unnervingly so. You still couldn't look at her without feeling your throat close up.

"Trust me... none of us are going to react like how that silly little brain of yours thinks we might." she continued softly and with a warm smile, and now you knew. You knew that they knew.

Your head tilted slightly up to look at Beth, who was now squatted a small distance from you, hands clasped together and blue eyes looking right into your own. You could still sense the looks of the other girls on you too, only now you didn't feel that they were judging, far from it actually. Your leg bounced up and down nervously, and you didn't even have it in you to try to stop it. You felt like you wanted to cry. Why was this so hard? Even now, when it was clear that everyone in the room knew. You just couldn't say it.

Your eyes started to glisten as the first tears threatened to push their way out, and you gave Beth a small, sad smile. Your throat began to hurt in the way that only a sob—or an imminent one—could provoke.

"I think you know already." you finally managed to get out, your voice as small as your presence in that room, and Beth only nodded. You could see some of the other girls nod too, but you were distracted by the feeling of Katie's hand taking your own and clutching it safely. A breath escaped you and it was shaky, uncertain, afraid.

"Yeah, I think we do, pet." the forward replied, closing the gap between you and pulling you in for a hug, her arms finding themselves at home wrapped around your torso. It was as if she'd given you permission to cry, the tears finally beginning to flow, as you buried your head into the other woman's shoulder, quietly sobbing into the fabric of her Arsenal jacket. Katie's hand tightened around your own, and you heard the sound of cleats and shoes closing in around you. You weren't sure how you were going to deal with this new reality moving forward, this world in which people other than yourself knew of your sexuality, but at least you wouldn't be alone.

///

End Notes: Hope you liked this one, guys! I promise not all of my fics will be angsty! I'm also in the process of writing an OC for a self-contained multi-part storyline. But, with how busy I've been with uni, who knows whether I'll actually finish it or not. Thanks for reading!

[goldenwilliamson]

more than friends | leah williamson

a/n: please send any recs you have my way! probably most comfortable writing for leah, lucy bronze, mapi leon, and some of the matildas. but feel free to send anything through and i'll see how i go x

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: reader and leah both play for arsenal and england. reader and leah get together after being friends for many years, but they decide to keep it a secret from their teammates. they don't do a very good job though.

word count: 1.2k

You and Leah had been teammates for several years now, playing together at Arsenal, and representing England together since you were just teenagers. It was a strictly platonic friendship as for most of this time you were both in relationships with other people. More recently though, since you were both single, you'd helped each other through your breakups, and had become closer than ever.

You didn't see it coming, but you started to feel yourself developing feelings for your old friend. At first you brushed it off, telling yourself that it was just platonic love. You loved hanging out with Leah, you always had. Upon some reflection though, you started to realise that your feelings were deeper than friendly affection. Every moment with Leah started to carry a new weight. You began to replay every conversation and every touch over and over in your head, dreaming that she would admit she was also harbouring hidden feelings for you.

One night while away on international duties you were rooming with Leah, as you had since you were in U17's together, and after a day of training and team dinner you had sat down on the end of Leah's bed. You decided it was time to tell her. With your heart in your throat, you tried to suppress your anxiety and mumbled your way through a romantic confession. She had laughed at first when you told her, then opened her arms.

"Come here," she told you.

As the two of you embraced she said, "You know, I've been meaning to tell you the same thing."

"Really?" You looked at her, not quite believing it.

"Yeah, but I was too bloody scared, I'm glad you're braver than I am," she said.

You two had spent the rest of the night talking about realising you had feelings for each other, and giggling about how you had both been so scared to act on it. The conversation was sealed with a kiss that made you both wonder what had taken you both so long to get to this point.

While you were ecstatic about having your feelings reciprocated, both of you were nervous to break the news to the girls that you played with. Within teams there is a very unique dynamic that everyone settles into, and you didn't want to do anything to disrupt that. Both of you were also very individual players, and you didn't want your relationship to become a defining part of your football. This was something you both agreed on, as you both felt your relationships with teammates in the past had influenced your play on the field more than you would have liked. Especially once people in the public knew about it.

So you and Leah decided that you would keep it between the two of you for the time being, until you were both 100% ready for it to become a public thing. However, the development in your relationship didn't fly under the radar in the way that you both had hoped it would.

There were whispers among your teammates, people noticing the lingering touches between you and Leah, and the way you looked at each other with such love and adoration every time one of you were speaking. You both were glowing, and the girls knew you too well. People online too had started speculating purely based on some brief interactions you guys had on the pitch.

It all came out one night when a handful of the Arsenal girls were around at Kim Little's house for some dinner and drinks. Leah found it hard to contain her loving touches, letting her hand rest on your leg when you guys were on the lounge, or rubbing circles into your back as you stood around the kitchen counter chatting.

Pizzas were spread out across the dining table for everyone to help themselves to. You grabbed two plates, making up one for yourself and one for Leah. She was speaking with Jen in the backyard when you carried it out to her.

"Here, Lee," you hand it to her and she took it from you with one hand, allowing her other hand to pull you into her side so she could kiss your forehead.

"Thanks baby," Leah said, your heart swelling at the unexpected display of affection.

Your eyes shoot to Jen's face, noting the smirk, and the realisation dawning upon her.

"Oh, are you two...?" Jen asked immediately, knowing what was going on.

You looked at Leah, shaking your head, knowing you couldn't keep it a secret any longer. She nods, and you nod, and you both look back at Jen.

"Yeah," You both say, affirming everyone's suspicions.

"God, Beth was trying to say that there was something going on, but I was saying nah nah, if there was they'd tell us," Jen said, scoffing.

"Bloody Beth, she knows us too well," you say a bit too loudly, alerting the girls inside the house to your conversation.

"You called?" Beth says.

"You knew about this," you says, motioning between you and Leah.

"Oh!" Beth says, seeming caught of guard, "So this is a thing then?"

Leah chuckles, unconsciously letting her arm snake around your waist, "Yeah mate."

"Oh my god," Beth exclaims, sheer joy spreading across her face, "My sweeties, I've been waiting for this."

"What have you been waiting for?" Steph asks, stepping into the conversation.

"Cats out of the bag then," you say, laughing.

"What are we talking about?" Kim calls from across the room.

"Okay, since everyone would like to know," Leah says, raising her voice to invite everyone into your conversation, "Y/N and I are together, we have been for a couple of months."

"Hey, I told you!" Steph says, turning back to point at Kim.

"You love birds were so obvious, why'd it take you so long to tell us?" Beth asks.

You and Leah both look at each other, suddenly unsure of how to answer that question. It all seems redundant now.

"We didn't want it to change anything," you explain.

"You worry worts, as if this would change a thing!" Beth tells you both.

"Thanks Bethany," Leah smiles.

"You guys are perfect for each other, we've all been saying it for ages," Steph says, making everyone laugh.

"It's true, you know," Kim adds in her two cents.

"Thanks guys, sorry we didn't tell you," you say.

"Don't be sorry, we're just happy for ya," Jen says, wrapping her arms around both you and Leah.

"Alright, alright, this is getting sappy. Why don't we sit down and eat," Leah suggests.

"Please," you agree, desperate to have the attention off of you.

The girls all agree too, and you move inside, finding seats on the lounge and on the floor as you dig into the pizza. As everyone is distracted by the food and the game on the telly, Leah leans into you.

"I'm glad we told them," she says.

"Me too," you say, and now that you can kiss Leah without any inhibitions, you do.

You can feel the room fall into silence as you do so before Jen says, "That'll take some getting used to."

"Better get used to it quick Jenny," Leah says, kissing you again, and then planting several kisses all over your face for good measure.

[seichira]

Hello! If I may, could I please ask for some headcanons of how Chigiri, Nagi, Bachira and Isagi would confess to the reader?

LOVESICK CONFESSIONS — blue lock!

✺ featuring — meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, yoichi isagi, and seishiro nagi

✺ lumi’s note — this is my first time writing a request and coincidentally, also my first post for the bllk (best) boys! i hope you like it, anon!

MEGURU BACHIRA ༉‧₊˚.

i have a very good reason to believe that meguru bachira just one day wakes up and decides that he loves you and is going to tell you. don’t get me wrong—his epiphany may be sudden, but this has been a long time coming, and it’s high time he tells you.

since this morning, meguru bachira is a man on a mission. he is going to tell you that he has feelings for you, and it has to be today. to be honest, meguru isn’t the type of person to come up with those cheesy and romantic gestures. he finds his own ways to do things, and confessing isn’t any different.

just like clockwork, you approach the school quadrangle with tree boxes where you always sit down on to read books and sometimes watch bachira as he shows you his tricks in football. it has been a routine of some kind to meet there every after class and you both liked it.

as for you, the presence of the boy is comforting after a long day even though you’re both just doing your own thing, but you know that he’s there and it’s enough. of course, who can forget the ice cream he buys you as a thanks for accompanying him while he plays football?

today, meguru is already there when you arrived. as always, his feet are already playing with the ball in some way even if he’s still in his school uniform. he’s cute like this, you think. in his point of view, while you close the distance between the two of you, he gets more and more excited to tell you.

“y/n! think fast!” before you know it, the ball is already flying towards you. although spending a lot of time with him has resulted in you knowing how to at least catch a ball, you opt to dodge it this time.

“what the heck, megs? you trying to kill me?”

he chuckled, “you have to catch it, y/n!”

you looked at him incredulously, “no, thank you. i came here to peacefully read my new copy of pride and prejudice, so if you may—”

“aw, come on! pick it up! pretty please?”

okay, let’s get this out of the way—meguru bachira has irresistible puppy eyes that can get him anything he wants. so, you do it and you picked up the ball.

“tell me what it says, pretty.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, but your instincts guided you to search the ball for whatever he meant. and there, in big, black, bold letters—i love you.

the scoff that comes out of your lips in insincere and the smile that creeps into your face is a telltale sign of how you feel the same way.

he grins, “well?”

“think fast, meguru!”

you aim the ball towards his head and throw it playfully, which he catches without effort. he looks at you expectantly.

“i love you too, idiot.”

he may or may not have kicked the ball so hard it reached the rooftop of the nearest building to the point where it cannot be retrieved, but who knows?

HYOMA CHIGIRI ༉‧₊˚.

HYOMA CHIGIRI ༉‧₊˚.

oh dear, you have to tell him first or else, your happily ever after with him will end before it even started. he is very well aware of how he feels about you, but the 50/50 chance of you liking him back or not doesn’t sit well with him, and it makes him sick to his stomach imagining you rejecting him. he’d rather die than go through that heartbreak slash embarrassment. doesn’t do well with rejections. so, yeah.

it has been a frustrating month, to say the least, because chigiri has been acting weird. you guys went from basically acting like an old couple to casual acquaintances, and you don’t understand. not too long ago, everyone was expecting you to be together by the end of this year and truth to be told, you thought so too.

in chigiri’s defense, he is freaking out. his friends are pressuring him to man up and tell you how strongly he feels about you, but that is the problem. he feels too strongly and he’s afraid how rejection coming from your end will affect everything.

first, he’ll lose you and your friendship. followed by losing months of proper training because he’ll be nursing his heartbreak seriously. the odds aren’t in his favor, and it’s keeping him awake at night.

obviously, he has been thinking too much about this, that he hasn’t noticed how he’s hurting you in the present. he’s not showing up to your little picnics by the soccer field, he’s not responding to the cutesy sticky notes you hand to him in class, and he’s not even looking at you, much less talking to you.

“bro, you trying to become single forever, or what?” his friend, isagi, who absolutely has no game when it comes to girls as well, asks him.

“what do you mean?”

“just look at your pretty lil y/n,” isagi shamelessly points towards your direction in the cafeteria, and chigiri hurriedly puts his friend’s hand down.

but he sees what he means—you are looking at them with that faint melancholy in your eyes that you’re trying to hide. chigiri can only look away alongside the torturous feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

of course, she’s upset. i’m her friend and i haven’t been talking to her. i’ll just apologize once i sort these feelings out, he rationalizes.

that is only until you corner him as soon as he got out of the comfort room. you look confrontational and it has him terrified. he’s actually alone. with you. the person who he is head over heels in love with.

“spit it out, hyoma,” you demand with venom and hurt laced in your voice it almost makes him flinch.

since he’s backed against the wall and you’re standing inches right in front of him, he figures running away isn’t the right thing to do in this situation.

“tell me straight up and end my agony. i’ll try my best to fix whatever problem you have with me, but i can’t do that if you won’t tell me!”

“w-what do you mean?” is all he could muster because his brain can only process the fact that he can smell your perfume and natural scent from here and it is sending him on a frenzy.

god, he is so damn in love with you.

however, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears your small sniffles and when he catches sight of your tears.

no, no, no.

don’t cry. not for me. not for anyone.

“y/n—”

“is it because you found out that i’m in love with you, hyoma? is… is that why you’ve been avoiding me? you could have just told me and i’d do my best to fall out of love with you if that’s what it takes for you to remain friends with me—”

a string of patience breaks within him, and with that comes a breath of pure relief as he grabs your nape to pull you in on a kiss.

“but i don’t wanna be friends,” he whispers in between kisses. “i love you too. i love you, baby.”

ISAGI YOICHI ༉‧₊˚.

he claims that he has loved you ever since you were both kids to everyone who asks him who you are (yes, everyone knows that this nerd is in love with you except… well, you). it was only when he had to go away to blue lock for some time that he realizes he needs to confess to you before spending time apart, and also because he is scared he’d lose you to your other admirers.

isagi is restless.

it’s valentine’s day and he just witnessed your locker throw up a bunch of love letters from losers who are confessing their undying love for you. idiots. if anyone here has undying love for her, it’s me.

despite knowing that no one will love you more than he does, he is still all fidgety and nervous because unlike those losers, he hasn’t confessed to you.

it’s ridiculous. you have been together basically since kindergarten and has been inseparable since then. both of you have seen each other in their highs and lows. you have laughed and cried together. you have made plans for a future where the other is present.

isn’t it already a given that he loves you? does he really have to say it at this point? you must know, right? you know him. he doesn’t even have to talk and you already know what he’s thinking. there is no way that you don’t know he loves you.

“oh, wow—this is a lot!” you exclaim, mostly thankful for all the love that literally just poured out of your locker for you. “it’s like twice as many as last year.”

you start picking up the letters and chocolates on the ground, which isagi helps you with. he is the designated eater of the chocolates you can’t finish.

“too bad they don’t got a chance—” he starts, and you interrupt him to disagree.

“i don’t think so, yoichi. we’re in the right age to be dating people. also, you’ll be leaving me alone once you attend that training, so it wouldn’t hurt to give one of them a chance.”

poor isagi deflates upon hearing that. it never occurred to him that you will be with someone else. to him, it will always be you and him. there could be no extras in your story.

oh, boy. was he wrong to be so complacent. apparently, you have no damn clue that your childhood friend has always loved you. and now, he’s on a dilemma and his other friends have to hear about it.

“it’s your fault, though?” nagi states the obvious. “you never told her, so how’d she know? boring.”

meguru nods eagerly, “but it’s fine, yoichi! there will always be someone out there for you. but of course, you’ll have to suffer watching her with someone else first.”

when he realizes that his friends are no help at all, he takes matters into his own hands and put aside his doubts for a while to muster up the courage to finally confess to you after years of pining.

the day before he goes away for training, he offers to walk you home like he always does. the difference of today from all the other days is that he pulls your wrist just right before you disappear into your door.

“wait a minute,” he says.

you face him again, and without a word, he locks a necklace around your neck with a pendant of a small soccer ball with his initial in the middle. your lips part in awe and in realization of what he is about to say, but you find yourself speechless at how he’s looking at you with the softest eyes he could give only you, with the setting sun behind him.

“i never told you this, but i want you to rememember it starting from now. i love you. i want you to be mine, and mine alone. and this may sound selfish, but will you wait for me until i get back?”

you sigh and caress his cheek on your palm. “honey, i have always loved you too. i am yours already. of course, i will wait for you. so don’t worry about me and do your best over there, alright?”

“you’ll be here when i get back?”

“i’ll be here when you get back.”

SEISHIRO NAGI ༉‧₊˚.

the realization hits him in the middle of a football game. he can’t stop thinking about you and it has been affecting his games. there’s no other explanation for that, right? he likes you. and he has to tell you in front of the ocean of people watching because he just can’t wait but ease the bugging feeling in his stomach.

nagi is not playing like usual, and coach ego has scolded him like five times since the game started.

him being himself, he can’t even bring himself to care because his mind is plagued with thoughts of you. he wants to play and see the field on a levelheaded point of view to match with isagi’s tactics, but boy, are you annoying. you are all he can think about, and it is frustrating him!

“what kinda bullshit was that, nagi?!” reo shouts at him from across the field because the white-haired boy failed to catch the ball meant for him. “focus!”

“i’m really fucking trying, man!” he shouts back painfully and truthfully, because he really is trying but it doesn’t seem to be working.

the game continues on and all nagi can think about are your lips and how they move whenever you smile, your eyes whenever you talk about something you love, your hair when the autumn air makes it dance like leaves on trees, or your small pout when he refuses to give in to your whims!

“goddammit!” he frustratingly utters as he tries to steal the ball from the opponent. he is too close to succeeding until his brain once again flashes a memory of you laughing like the beautiful human being you are.

“you got this, sei!” you cheer from the bleachers, and your voice is much too distinct for his ears not to hear it. almost faster than the speed of light, he looks at you. his breath gets stuck in his throat as soon as he sees you in his jersey, waving up a huge banner with his name on it. in that split second, he got tackled by the players running on the field.

“fucking hell! that’s it!” he grumbles. “oh, y/n. you are damn annoying. making me fall in love with you like a fool. annoying! annoying! annoying!”

ego substitutes him out of the game, and he takes that chance to climb up the bleachers to approach you. the game is yet to restart, so a lot of eyes are on him and his annoyed expression.

you, however, know better. he may be annoyed, but definitely not by you, even though he’s staring straight at you ask he walks. you smile at him.

“you okay, sei?” you ask in concern because he just got tackled to the ground moments before reaching you. “you’ve been out of focus—”

“because you’re here, dammit.”

you laugh through your nose, “what? i thought you wanted me to come watch the game, seishiro..”

“can’t focus now. i don’t know what to do. i can’t stop thinking about you. what’re you doing to me, huh? stop it right now! we need to win!”

“i’m not doing anything, though?”

“that! that pout! stop it!”

seishiro nagi looks incredibly cute like this. he is literally towering over you in his 6’3 prowess and yet, he throws tantrums like a little boy.

“what exactly am i doing to you, sei?”

“you make me want to leave the damn field so i can climb up here to kiss you! because i love you! and i can’t stop thinking about you in that huge jersey!”

your heart overflows with the sudden confession from the boy you have liked for some time now, plus the fact that you have an entire stadium before you, but you are not complaining. not at all.

you take the initiative to tiptoe and kiss seishiro nagi in hopes that it will calm him down to last the game.

“i love you too, sei. no need to be so restless, hm? i’ll be watching from here and i’m not going anywhere, so you better focus!”

like the small peck wasn’t enough, he carries you by your waist to press a deeper kiss on your lips that he has only ever dreamed of kissing.

“okay. i guess that helps. see you after the game.”

he scores the winning goal, and everyone can tell that he is impatient. they are right. as soon as the game ends, he runs to celebrate with you in his arms.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ��𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You weren't even looking for anything serious with someone, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

[torotauri]

I Don't Deserve You | Kang Hyewon

1190 Words

***

University on a Saturday, it was supposed to be the fun day. Activities, football matches and going to the pub with mates for watch the games broadcasted on TV. However, not for you, not this week at least. You can't do anything because you injured your knee. All you can do today was just stay home and sit in bed for the whole day by yourself. 

It all happened because of an injury, you sprained your knee last week in a football game, damaging your ACL and ultimately causing you to miss the game today. The final game of the calendar year. You wanted to end your year on a high, but it looks like you were going to end the year on the bed, doing nothing.

With all finals being over and one more week on classes left, everyone on campus was enjoying themselves. Going to the pub, celebrating with mates, doing fun stuff with people they know and fraternities are advertising their fun parties they have this weekend. However, you can't do any of these because the doctor told you to avoid any form of activities that will put stress on your knee for at least a month, meaning your life was pretty much meaningless.

Despite this, your girlfriend of two years was being pretty supportive to you. Of course she was, she was part of the university cheerleading team so naturally she was going to be cheerful. She was always your cheerleader, cheering you on when you were on the pitch, going through every highs and lows with you, by your side and making every lows of life better for you. 

Kang Hyewon was really the perfect girl, not just for you but for the university as well. She was popular, pretty and also head of the cheerleading sorority. Every guy wanted to date her but there was only one lucky guy who can call himself her boyfriend and that guy was you. 

Even now, when you were out injured, Kang Hyewon told you that everything was going to be alright, making sure you feel better. She knows that there was only two loves in your life. Football and Kang Hyewon. However, despite Kang Hyewon thinking she has made you feel better about not being able to play the last game of the calendar year, it was still you having to stay home alone today because she had to go to the game with other cheerleaders to cheer on the university football team.

It was not a good thing being alone at this state, you started to think. Thinking about a lot of stuff. Thinking about what would happen in the game before moving on to thinking about deeper stuff. Starting off with thinking about what would happen if your knee never recovers or if the situation with your knee gets even worse, before finally thinking about your relationship with Kang Hyewon.

Kang Hyewon, like you said, was one of the most popular and prettiest girl in the campus. The head cheerleader status she got a few months ago only made her more popular and more wanted around the campus. 

With that you started thinking if you really deserved her?

You only started with her from a friends with benefits relationship when you both entered university, but slowly became in love with each other. However, the romance have been dying lately. The two of you have been feeling comfortable with each other, living together has seemed to kill the romance and you two have stopped going on romantic dates for a while now. 

Plus watching her simps around her and people trying to hit on her didn't help with this situation.

You thought about it long and hard, you really didn't deserve her. She deserved someone better, someone more romantic and someone who actually can give her the love that she deserves. What she doesn't deserve was someone like you, a guy who is nothing without football, a guy who isn't romantic at all. She deserves love and you just can't give her the love that she deserves.

As much as you loved her and wanted to be with her, you just know that you can't give her what she deserved, there are a lot of other guys out there in the university who are willing to give her what she deserved. All the guys who you have saw hit on her was right, she deserve someone better, someone who isn't you. 

As much as you hate to do this, you feel like something has to be done to rectify this situation. You needed to do something you didn't want to do.

Whilst you were deep in thought, deciding what you were going to do, the door open and your girlfriend Kang Hyewon walk through the door.

"Hey, I'm back. How's your day" Kang Hyewon asked as she walked through the door to see you sat on the sofa with the remote control in your hand and the TV on SkySports Main Event.

"So no change for you then" Kang Hyewon sat next to you as she took the remote control out of your hand.

You snapped back into life as Hyewon took the remote control out of your hand, you were so deep in thought that you didn't even saw her come sit next to you.

"How's your day been" Hyewon asked you again.

You just hugged her tightly which surprised Hyewon a little bit but she hugged you back not knowing what has gone through your mind.

"Hyewon, I don't deserve you" you said whilst hugging her tightly "I really don't"

Hyewon was surprised to hear what you just said. She didn't know what was going on, she has heard people tell her that she deserved better, but she never thought you would think that way as well.

"What are you saying" Hyewon said pulling out of the hug, surprised at what she just heard.

"You deserve better, not someone a weirdo like me who just sits around all day watching football" you responded.

"But I don't want better, I want you. I know people have been saying I can date better guys than you, but they don't give me what you give me. I feel safe around you. Sure, you do eye other girls up and prioritise football over me, but you're a good guy deep down" Hyewon responded.

"No I'm serious, you deserve to be in a relationship with someone who's more romantic than me" you stated, making your point very clear

At that moment, Hyewon kissed you on the lips.

"If I really think I deserved someone better, then I would have left you. We've been together two years already and even when we broke up a year ago, we got back together. Sometimes, love is not always about the romantic stuff, it's about being comfortable and feeling safe. You give me that sense of safety and comfort which is something that nobody else can give me" Hyewon said making you feel better.

The two of you shared another kiss, this time more passionate.

"You know, there is one romantic thing you are really good at, why don't we do that" Hyewon said as she broke the kiss looking deep into your eyes with lust.

[inuyashaluver]

Hi! I love your writing so much!!

Can I request something for Leah Williamson? Like Leah and Popstar!reader has been in a secret relationship and in the reader’s music video she has to kiss/being intimate with an actress (sort of like “Justin Bieber - Mistletoe”music video) Leah become jealous, although reader has explained that the song was for Leah and it was just acting. So in the next music video (I pictured it like “Dan + Shay, Justin Bieber - 10,000 hours” music video) Leah be in the music video and kinda hard launch to the world about being married to the reader.

So, maybe cute jealous Leah and fluffy ending?

(You don’t have to use the same music video reference, it just what gave me this idea☺️)

Thank you, and if you don’t want to write my request it’s okay.. no pressure!

hard launch - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your wife gets jealous when you kiss a man in your music video for your new album, so you give her a special one instead

warnings: swearing, jealous leah, slightly angsty idk

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind but i switched the request around a teensy bit just for plot! ily and thank you for the love and request❤️ mixed feelings again lmao

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your wife, leah were each other’s biggest fans, but in a relatively secret manner, only the people closest to you knew about the two of you and that was how you liked it.

you and leah met at the brit’s years ago when you were seated next to each other. someone on stage said something quite unhinged and you both glanced at each other in disbelief.

“what the fuck?” you mouth to the girl next to you, she places a hand over her mouth to conceal her laugh but both of you break out into silent giggles.

after that, you both followed each other on instagram and she miraculously got your number. you both started chatting, finding out you lived 10 minutes from each other. you always met up for lunch or anytime whenever the two of you were free and it steadily progressed into a romantic relationship.

you’d been together for over 7 years, wanting to keep your lives private as you were both highly influential people in the media. you, a popstar and leah, a star football player.

and like the media always does, they ruin things. often. so, you and leah made an agreement to keep your relationship a secret, your wedding was quiet, your nearest and dearest all in attendance.

—

you and leah brought out the best in each other, and everyone noticed it. everytime you and leah got interviewed, it was one of the top comments that you and leah respectively were much happier recently. both of you always saying, “it’s just a happy day” with an identical smile.

if people did put two and two together, you and leah wouldn’t confirm nor deny your relationship. you and leah would put on subtle disguises when supporting each other, whether it was at an event or a football match, the two of you would make an effort to be there no matter what.

you both genuinely loved each other and that was all that mattered to the both of you. through a large, mutual respect and trust with one another, it worked.

—

when leah tore her acl, she was at home all the time, you took some time off music to support her and she was eternally grateful for you. when she’d cry, you kiss her cheek and tell her everything was going to be okay.

you took her to rehab, to training, to get late night snacks. whatever she wanted, you did it for her, knowing well enough that she would do the same.

all the time at home together made you both giddy amongst all the sadness of the injury. leah claimed she wouldn’t have been able to do anything without you, expressing her gratitude everyday through lazy kisses and prolonged embraces that had your hearts synched in unison.

in an attempt to express your unconditional love for your wife, you decided to make a secret album dedicated to her. once she was asleep, you would slip out of her embrace and write songs until your hand was tired and your eyes were sore.

leah was by far your biggest inspiration and you wanted her to know that.

when you would finish writing for the night, you’d hop back into the welcoming arms of your wife. she’d immediately settle on your chest, her body rising and falling as she slept soundly.

you worked on the album the entire duration of recovery for leah, impressed with how you were able to keep the secret for so long, considering she always had the ability to coax something out of you when she’d give you that attractive smirk as she’d tower over you.

once she’d recovered and made her comeback, you knew the album needed to be released, so, you put out a poster advertising it on instagram, a major yet subtle nod to leah, featuring one of her newest tattoos.

leah sees you’ve posted something on instagram since she has your notifications on, her heart stops when she recognises her tattoo, she smiles brightly that day, rushing home from training to ask you all about it.

—

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

yourname: my new album, ‘home’ is coming very soon! dedicated to a special person in my life, my biggest inspiration ever, i love you xx

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—

“baby!” leah calls out from the door, her keys clanging on the kitchen counter as she searches for you. you’re sitting in the living room on the couch, bundled up in one of her hoodies while you drink a tea.

“hi, love” you smile lazily at her, she looks at you full of adoration, sitting next to you on the couch and carefully taking the mug from your hands and placing it on the coffee table. she takes both of your hands in hers, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips.

“hi, beautiful” leah smiles against your lips, placing little kisses there before pulling away to look at you. “has my girl been making an album without telling me?” leah narrows her eyes at you, placing a hand on your thigh when you kick your legs into her lap.

“maybe” you shrug teasingly, causing the blonde to groan in annoyance. “oh come on, man!” leah huffs, you raise your eyebrows at her amusingly, kissing her cheek affectionately causing a little smirk to play on her lips.

“alright i’ll tell you,” you give up when she gives you her best puppy dog eyes, “the album’s for you, i’ve been writing it throughout your recovery and a couple of songs are coming out over the next three days before i release the full thing” you inform her, fiddling with the fingers of her free hand.

“it’s for me?” leah breathes out surprisingly, attempting to move closer so she was pressed up against you, “it’s for you” you affirm, puckering your lips up for a quick kiss.

she instantly closes the gap, the kiss more passionate than you expected, causing you to whine into her mouth when she pulls you to straddle her lap. the kiss is bruising, it makes you both dizzy with affection when your lips and tongues move against each other.

in need of air, she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours, her breath fanning against your lips as she holds you close. you lean back to look at her, pushing away the stray hairs adorning her face that had fallen from her loose ponytail.

“i’ll take it you’re excited then?” you tease, placing a hand on her cheek and smiling softly at her, she nods and moves her head to kiss the palm of your hand, “more than excited” she teases back, moving to kiss you again and taking your breath away completely.

—

it was the day one of your first songs got released, labelled : ‘softly’ (by clairo - highly recommend this banger, listen and check out the lyrics!!). the music video was filmed months ago and it was cute. you thought she’d love it, but the girl sitting next to you while she watched wasn’t overly excited as much as you thought she would be.

the song was beautiful and she loved it, it was the music video that had a funny feeling bubbling in her chest. in the music video, you and a close friend of yours, a male actor had been exploring a random part of london, goofing off, slow dancing in the street, sharing a coffee and leah was fine with that, it was ‘whatever’. until the very end of the video where you shared a quick kiss before the screen turned black.

leah had an unreadable expression on her face, sitting next to you, cross-armed while her eyes were trained on the tv in your shared living room. she prods her tongue on the inside of her cheek before she clenches her jaw.

“lee, baby” you say nervously, testing out the waters, she doesn’t look at you, her eyes still on the tv. “leah?” you place a hand on her shoulder and she shrugs it off, standing up to run off to the bathroom.

she was fuming to say the least, she knew it meant nothing but there was just something about seeing you kiss someone else that made her immensely jealous and she couldn’t admit it to you.

you sigh when you hear the bathroom lock click, she never does that. you say to yourself you’re giving her space but it took you the span of 1 minute to rush to the door and sit down in front of it, your back pressed against it while you waited for her.

you hear the distant lull of the shower and you pout, picking at your nails at the thought of her being upset with you. when she was done, she opened the door and you fell back, staring up at her with wide eyes before scrambling to get off the floor.

“you okay?” you breathe out, the blonde just nods, moving past you and sitting on the bed, her back resting against the headboard while she scrolled on her phone, reading all the comments on your song.

all of them talking about how cute the video was, a couple confused as to why you casted a man as the love interest for a song clearly about a female.

you breathe out shakily before sitting next to her, picking at your nails again until leah broke the silence, “don’t do that” she reprimands softly, looking down at her phone again. “sorry” you mumble, head hanging low as you stare at your hands in your lap.

“have i done something?” you question nervously, the girl just shakes her head, placing her phone down and looking at you. her scowl was gone and instead somewhat of a pout was hinting on her lips.

your eyes slightly widen when you take in her appearance, she was jealous. you fight extremely hard to conceal your smile as you watch her amusingly, ready to see her crack under the pressure.

“did you really have to kiss a man?” leah clenches her jaw with a roll of her eyes when she hears your stifled giggles escaping your mouth. “baby-” you start, promptly interrupted but a frustrated looking leah, “a man? the songs about me!” leah scoffs in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at you expectantly.

“don’t smile” leah grits out, but you can’t stop, moving to sit in her lap as she frowns.

you try to untangle her arms but she’s extremely strong, deciding to place a hand on her shoulder while the other cards through her hair. she tries incredibly hard not to hum at the contact, staring into your eyes through her furrowed brows.

“the song is about you, i kissed a gay man by the way, i just thought he’d be a good fit for the video but the song is clearly about a certain pretty blonde that i love” you say sarcastically, leah untangling her arms and pinching your hip warningly.

“i love you and i only love you” you say reassuringly, peppering her face with little kisses which causes her to break out in a little smile.

“i liked the song” she sighs, leaning into your body for comfort that you happily give to her.

“i’m glad” you smile, nudging her nose with your own and giggling when it crinkles up.

“still doesn’t change the fact that you kissed a man when you have a wife” she exaggerates, her scowl making its way to her face again. you smile at her affectionately, “a gay man” you groan, “are you sure? you’re really hot and could easily make someone question themselves” leah says simply, checking you out shamelessly.

you roll your eyes and give her a chaste kiss, “yes, leah, he’s gay and i’ll happily kiss my wife that i love so much” you smile cheekily, making the blonde huff out a laugh and pull you closer into a passionate kiss.

it completely takes your breath away when she pulls away, you pant and just look at each other for a moment. she’s happy for a second until she remembers you locking lips with that man, she doesn’t care if he’s gay, it scarred her.

“so grumpy” you mumble, reaching up and running your thumb over the wrinkled skin. “i don’t care, it should’ve been me,” she huffs, she’s completely unaware of what you have under your sleeve. “i love you” you quip, she replies without skipping a beat, “i love you too”

with a couple more shared kisses and reassuring words, leah got over it.

—

two days later, the video you’d been excited yet nervous about was finally about to be released. you’d been working on not only the song but the music video extremely hard.

the song was called ‘leah’ (actually ur so pretty by wasia project), it was different from your usual music but it felt right. you nervously sat with leah on the couch, bundled up under a blanket together as you cuddled.

leah could sense your nervousness, she’d run her hand up and down your arm in attempts to calm down but this was literally a hard launch and you didn’t know how she would react.

the video gets uploaded and you nervously move the remote towards the video to click on it.

“leah?” the girl mumbles in slight shock, you lean into her, kissing her cheek quickly before pressing play. the opening chords of the piano had leah’s heart already lurching.

the video is an edited video of you and leah throughout the years. all of them filmed by you. it had videos from your dates, at home, cuddling, sleeping, kissing, everything.

‘you’re so pretty, when you smile it kills me’

your voice sings out, leah immediately tenses against you. tears were already filling in both of your eyes, leah holds onto you tightly, completely engrossed on the screen and your voice.

‘can’t stop thinking, about the way you kissed me, under the stars’

leah laughs fondly at some of the silly videos in video, a full play by play of your relationship presented to the world in the most beautiful way. when it gets to the more recent moments of your relationship, leah squeezes you gently, her breath hitching when footage of your wedding plays. you’re both crying at this point.

‘you’re the only person left, so hold me. don’t leave me’

your song finishes, the final clip you and leah sharing your first kiss as a married couple, smiling brightly with each other and walking down the aisle together excitedly before a picture of you and leah is left on the screen and then turning into a black screen.

you in leah sit in silence just crying, she pulls you into a tight embrace, her face tucked into the crook of your neck as her tears pool out of her eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much” she cries, holding onto you tightly like you could disappear at any moment.

“i love you so much, lee” you sniffle with an affectionate giggle, cradling the girl’s head to you as you held onto each other tightly.

after the long embrace, she pulls back to look at you, kissing you sweetly before pulling away again to smile lovingly at you. “sorry for the hard launch” you giggle, wiping the remnants of tears on her cheeks with your thumb. “thank you for the hard launch” she teases, kissing you again.

“the rest of the album is out” you remind and she perks up, “what are we waiting for then?” she exclaims, making you lie on top of her while she plays the album.

“there’s 10 songs, lee, we don’t need to listen to all of it now” you say sheepishly, “such a sap, lovey, 10 whole songs for me? i’m so lucky” she teases, kissing the crown of your head. “of course we need to listen now, i need to support my official wag” you smile up at her, kissing her gently while the sounds of your album drown out in the background.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by alessiarusso99 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: stream my WIFE’S new album she made for me, best present ever

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yourname: my wifey

↳ leahwilliamsonn: my pretty wife

yourname: remember when you got mad i kissed a gay man

↳ leahwilliamsonn: time out.

[anachilles]

-> clegan teacher!AU 📚🏈

College friends (/almost lovers) who drifted apart after graduating from post-grad teacher training and moving to opposite ends of the country.

Physics teacher!Gale x Phys Ed/Football Coach!John

Up to this point, Bucky's only ever been in assistant coaching positions.

That is, until he gets an out-of-the-blue phone call from Gale one day letting him know about a position opening up at his school halfway across the country. A PE teaching position with a head football coach role attached if he wanted it and could prove he was qualified.

(The school being desperate to revive their once-formidable team's chances after a spate of retirements and departures and downright bad luck. They're willing to try anything, and even for only being an assistant coach, Bucky's got some momentum behind his name/reputation at that point).

After not even hearing from Gale in over a year and a half (and still being a little burned by it), Bucky has to decide whether to drop everything and take a chance or carry on-course with the pretty successful life he'd finally sort of settled himself into without him.

Spoiler: he ends up choosing the former.

People can't quite believe the rumours that serious, focused, (kind of a hard-ass) Mr Cleven would've been best friends with a guy like Coach Egan. Even watching the dynamic play out in front of them, they're not sure most of the time what to make of it, lol.

('it' being ✨ sexual/romantic tension ✨ of a kind previously unwitnessed by any living person within the bounds of the continental united states).

[meazalykov]

she was the golden girl

uswnt x (romantic) aitana bonmatí x (platonic) fridolina rolfo x uswnt!reader

summary: what happened in a world where reader plays in the 2023 World Cup after winning the 2019 World Cup?

warnings: tiny bit of angst and sadness, google translated spanish.

part two (part one here)

I remembered when I stood on the french pitch, surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, sometimes I can’t believe that it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my best friend Mallory, threatening to spill over as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind. 

My hands trembled as I clutched the World Cup trophy tightly to my chest, feeling the weight of my team's triumph. The third goal in the world cup was scored by me, the youngest goalscorer in a Women’s World Cup final. The journey to this moment had been grueling, filled with sacrifices, sweat, and endless dedication. But looking back, all the pain and hardship were worth it.

Before the World Cup, the Champions League medal hung proudly around my neck, a testament to the skill and hard work I’ve displayed on the field. At the time, Lyon was the club of my life. I believed that I would’ve never left the french institution, extending my contract as much as I possibly could’ve. The memories of each game, each goal, each victory rushed back to me, overwhelming my senses.

And then there was the Ballon d'Or many months after both competitions, the ultimate recognition of my individual excellence. To be acknowledged as the best, only at the age of 19 years old, was a dream I had hardly dared to entertain. Yet there I was, being the second woman holding the prestigious award in my small hands, my name etched into football history forever as I stood beside Lionel Messi who received the men’s d’or. 

Surrounded by my teammates, coaches, and supporters, I felt a surge of gratitude and humility. This moment wasn't just about me; it was about the collective effort of everyone who had believed in my skills along the way. I will never forget it.

Four years later, It's 2023. I am 23 years old and still impressing the fans around the World. However, the scars of my ACL injury were still fresh, a constant reminder of the hurdles I had overcome to be here after the harsh 2022 year.

Playing for Lyon had once been a dream come true. I’ll never forget that experience. When I signed to Lyon from Portland Thorns at the age of 18, I was overwhelmed in joy. I needed that new challenge, and that challenge earned me the best awards, collectively and individually. But, the fallout from my December 2021 injury had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The club I had once called home had felt more like a distant memory as I felt forced to make the difficult decision to part ways and start a new life in the sunny Spanish city.

Now, I wore the red and blue Barcelona jersey onto the pitch. The transfer left me heartbroken, at first, now I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road to recovery after my ACL injury in France had been long and arduous, filled with doubts and setbacks. Sometimes, I believed that my prime occurred at the age of 19, instead of the predicted 24-30 years old. Yet here I am, defying the odds once again to represent my country on the world stage in two months.

Sometimes the memories of my victories with Lyon and the United States lingered in the back of my mind, serving as both motivation and a reminder of what was at stake. The Champions League trophy I had lifted with Lyon and the World Cup I had claimed with the United States were testaments to my talent and resilience. But now, I lifted the Champions League trophy with Barcelona. 

After scoring the second goal of the final, with Patricia before me and Fridolina afterwards, the gold hung beautifully around my neck. It was my fourth time I've felt such a high amount of glory, but the happy tears still came as if it were the first. 

A month later, I am on a fourteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand. As The plane soared through the clouds and I sat in my business class seat, my hands gripping the armrests tightly and my heart pounded in my chest.

“Y/n?” I took out my airpods when I heard the faint sound of my name coming from outside of them. I turned to my right and saw my teammate and captain, Lindsey, looking at me with a confusing look. 

“Hey.” I joked, pretending like my stress wasn’t visible for everyone to see. 

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. In my head, I debated on if I wanted to lie and say yes, just so I didn’t have to burden her with my stress. However, she’s known me for many years, the woman would notice my lie from miles away. 

“Not really. I’m just–a bit nervous.” I swallowed. The blonde girl nodded her head in understanding as she rested her arm beside mine. 

“That's understandable. Is it the competition that's bothering you? I mean– we are defending champions so we have a lot to prove.” Lindsey asked. I took a deep breath as my mind shifted to a particular person from my Barcelona team. 

“No– It's about–um.” I stopped speaking. I didn’t want her to cloud my head during the competition, as we both promised ourselves that we would play as rivals, not lovers. 

“Aitana?” Lindsey questioned, but yet finished what I would’ve said. I noticed my head as my face was plastered with sadness.

“yeah.” I mumbled. The Lyon midfielder looked at me with a questionable look, wondering if there were problems between the Spanish girl and I. 

“I mean– there's no problem between us. However we prioritize football first you know? we both agreed that during the competition, we wouldn’t talk much.. just so we can focus on this.” I ranted. I’m not stressed because of a possible match between Spain and the United States, I know that I’ll miss the shorter woman a lot. Also, what if we stop talking and a third factor might influence our relationship moving forward? 

“That's good that you’re prioritizing us– You shouldn’t feel nervous about your relationship because this will give you time to miss each other– things will go back to normal once the world cup is over.” Lindsey patted my shoulder in sympathy, I smirked as my nervousness started to subside. 

A month later, as I stepped up to the penalty spot, the weight of the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders. We finished the match against Sweden 0-0 and after extra time, we had to go into a penalty shootout. The stadium roared around me, a cacophony of cheers and chants from both sides echoing in my small ears. Nerves danced in my stomach, threatening to consume me with doubt and mistakes.

With a deep breath, My eyes focused on Zećira Mušović standing between me and the goal. She did great throughout the game and has the reflexes to stop my shot. Determination burned in my eyes, she saw it too. 

As I approached the ball with speed, the tension in the air was palpable but I couldn’t care. Every step felt like an eternity as my foot sent the ball soaring towards the goal. Mušović dove in desperation, but my ball went directly to the middle as she dove left. The ball crashed into the back of the net, eliciting a deafening roar from the crowd and from my teammates. 

My dimples on my cheeks showed as I am happy to make the penalty. Being substituted on the pitch after halftime, I tried my best to score but my shot on goal was overturned by VAR. Apparently, my body was offside. 

Now, my arms wrapped the bodies of Sophia Smith and Megan Raphinoe as I looked ahead at Kelley O’hara. My heart raced as I stared at her white colored cleats. She needed to score this, or else Sweden had the opportunity to win the knockout. 

She Missed. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at the Swedish players with rising confidence and opportunity. Hurtig took the shot and Alyssa blocked it over the line. This caused a debate among the crowd. Deep down, I knew Sweden made it. They’ve won. However, VAR was the only hope which would have proved me wrong. 

Unfortunately, I was right. Sweden emerged victorious in the penalty shootout, their celebration serving as a bitter reminder of the heartbreak that awaited my teammates and I. 

No, No, NO! I thought to myself as I felt the moisture in my eyes start to take place. Immediately, my mind did a flashback to the 2019 World Cup Final. Being 19 years old and happy as my small, yet muscular, arms held the heavy World Cup trophy. 

With a heavy heart, I broke away from my teammates and looked among the Americans in the stands. My shaky hands clapped to the fans in the stands, my facade of strength crumbling with each step she took. Cameras could capture my weak struggle to stay strong as the Swedish crowd rightfully celebrated. 

Turning around, walking back towards the Americans who were on the team, my knees collapsed on the grassy pitch, tears streamed down my tired face. This was the worst that the United States had completed in a World Cup. What went wrong? 

I wanted to stand up so badly, but I didn’t. Shame and Defeat took over my body which laid in the grass. What is my family in the crowd thinking? What are the USWNT fans thinking? What are my fans thinking?... my tears cried out more when I wondered what Aitana was thinking. 

After ten minutes of darkness in my eyes, covered by my hands. A comforting presence enveloped my body. I recognized the floral smell mixed with a tint of sweat. I looked up from my hands and saw Fridolina, my teammate from Barcelona and now my opponent who won the Round of 16. 

“You did so good, Don’t beat yourself up over this!” Fridolina spoke to me first as her thumbs wiped over my teary eyes. I felt comfort but a small amount of envy was inside of me, I wanted to win so badly. 

“Congratulations Frido.” The Swedish girl took her hands and helped me stand up as she gave me a tight hug. Aitana, Frido, and I are a trio back in Barcelona. In fact, she helped Aitana and I confess our feelings to each other. 

“Thank you! Just know that I am proud of you, she is proud of you too. Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.” The 29 year old said as my eyes stained her yellow covered shoulders. I knew she meant Aitana when she said “she”. However, I didn’t know where the Spanish woman was at the moment and what she was thinking. 

“Just go be-beat Japan. Okay?” I said through a crack in my voice. I found solace in the embrace of my friend. I might’ve lost but I am not a bitter person, now I want to see my club teammates have a good World Cup like I’ve once experienced.

As we exchanged jerseys, the voice in my head kept reassuring myself that I'll come back stronger than ever in 2027. 

Just a week later, most of my American teammates left Australia and went back home. However, my teammate Kristie and I decided to stay back. Kristies had a girlfriend who played on a different international team like I did, so we wanted to support them as they’re advancing to the semi-finals. 

Witnessing my Barcelona teammates play each other in the Spain vs Sweden match was intense. Standing beside Aitana’s parents, I wore a basic dark green t-shirt with 501 mid-thigh levi shorts. This is the first time I've met them as her girlfriend and they’re sweet people. We celebrated Spain’s win against Sweden and my heart would have exploded in happiness. My girlfriend will experience a World Cup final! 

On August 20th, after an intense match and a lovely goal from Olga Carmona, Spain won the World Cup! The feeling was bittersweet for me. I am happy for my girlfriend but subconsciously, I knew I wanted it to be me with the United States. However, I brushed that feeling aside since I needed to be happy for my lover. 

“Aitana ¡Estoy tan feliz por ti!” We both ran towards each other and hugged. I feel her lightly kiss the side of my head as I inhale her scent. Being able to feel her embrace after a month apart filled the small void in my heart.

“¡Esto es tan irreal, ahora sé cómo te sentiste hace tantos años!”  (This is so unreal, now I know how you felt all those years ago!) Aitana smiled. The smile on my face struggled to stay as a small frown, which I tried hard to conceal, plastered on my face for a quick second. I don’t think she noticed. 

“Lo siento por lo que ocurrió. En el fondo esperaba que fuéramos nosotros dos quienes nos enfrentaríamos en la final.” (I'm sorry for what happened. Deep down I hoped that it would be the two of us who would face each other in the final.) Aitana said as she understood my defeat in the Round of 16. 

“Aquí también. Sólo debes saber que todavía estoy muy feliz por ti, a pesar de mi derrota.” (Here too. Just know that I am still very happy for you, despite my defeat.) I said as I admired the goal medal that sat perfectly on Aitana's chest. She gave me a sympathetic smile before hugging me again. 

“¡Te amo!” Aitana whispered into my ear. 

“Te quiero más” I smiled back as I relaxed into her arms. 

<3

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): explicit language, suggestive themes, kissing, romantic tension

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Part Six of Ink & Needle

You and Simon come face to face inside Dancing Faun.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

“Ready to go, Bravo?”

Simon shrugs on his coat and glances at the German Shepard. Bravo’s nails clack clack against the floor of the tattoo parlor as he takes a spot next to the door. He sits at attention, ears straight and alert as he clutches his leash in his maw.

They do this every Sunday and Bravo knows the routine.

Sighing, Simon walks up to Bravo and takes the leash. The dog surrenders it easily, but the moment Simon grabs hold, he recoils.

“Christ, Bravo. Need to get that under control, yeah?” Simon shakes the leather leash free of Bravo’s drool.

Bravo makes a pitiful little whine in answer. Simon reaches out to scratch the top of the dog’s head before going to one knee to secure the leash to Bravo’s collar. Getting down is the easy part. It’s the standing again that always aches.

Simon’s bad leg is acting up today. At least, more than usual. It has been months since Simon went to physical therapy, and he might need to start working it back into his schedule if this is going to be his new normal.

Wincing as he pushes off from the floor, Simon wraps the end of the leash around his fist. It’s habit, and more for the sanity of others than himself. Bravo is well-trained. Used to be a bomb dog for one of the many SAS divisions.

During his time on base, Simon would always take time to play fetch with the military dogs. Sometimes they were ones he worked with directly, while others just happened to be on base at the time with their units. Maybe it was Riley’s shadow that always prompted him to do it. He loved that dog, and a little piece of Simon went missing when he died.

Then Bravo came along, and their retirements just happened to fall around the same time.

Simon couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It’s Sunday. And Sunday is Simon’s day to do whatever the hell he wants.

No work. No computer. No phone. No exercise.

Nothing but him, Bravo, and drinks at Dancing Faun.

Simon isn’t bothered there, and he’s thankful for that. When he first moved to the area, Simon kept ending up in pubs where people his age or a bit younger frequented. He was never left alone at those places. Someone would eventually approach him. Either it was some drunk wanker trying to fight him, or someone wanting him to take them home.

No one bothers Simon at Dancing Faun. Most of the people who come in are much older than Simon, and a good many of the men are veterans themselves. They understand Simon and his need for a bit of solitude. The owner of the pub, Ben, is also good at keeping strangers away.

Maybe it’s the balaclava that attracts them. Maybe it’s the mystery. People are attracted to danger, and while Simon left that life a few years ago, he’s never shaken his violent shadow. Retirement can’t erase the people he’s killed or the enemies he’s put away. That life is sticky. No matter how hard you scrub at it, a residue always remains.

But Dancing Faun is Simon’s one refuge from the whole world. He can drink, think about absolutely fucking nothing, and catch a football or rugby match. Afterwards, he goes home and searches through his contacts for someone willing to have it off for a bit.

It’s just physical. Only flesh. An attempt on his part to fill a vacant hole.

But today, Simon doesn’t need to call anyone, because you’re here. He knows that now without a solitary doubt. When you appeared in the doorway of his shop, Simon truly believed he hallucinated the whole thing.

But he imagined nothing.

You are real and whole and here. Somewhere.

Simon just needs to figure out how to make you come to him. He needs to make it happen.

Exiting through 141 Ink’s front door, Simon secures the deadbolts behind him. Bravo remains at Simon’s side, alert but happy, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. At the very end of the street on the corner is Dancing Faun.

The outside of the pub is a deep, forest green with gold accents including the sign and lettering. The door is solid black with no window, just a silhouette of a faun holding a pipe. Simon pushes open the door and steps inside, Bravo right on his heels.

It’s still early, and no one is at this pub or any pub at this hour. But Ben always opens a little early just for Simon.

The inside is dimly lit, only a few of the lamps on the wall are actually on. The hanging ones above the bar are on but that’s it. The overcast morning light isn’t helping much. One of the televisions is already on displaying a repeat of a rugby match.

When the door shuts behind Simon, he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“That you, Simon?”

“It’s me,” he replies, bending down to unlatch the leash from Bravo’s collar. When the latch is released, Bravo pads over to their usual spot at the bar, sitting patiently on the right side of the stool.

Ben appears from around the corner carrying a plate. He’s older than Simon but not by much. The guy has about ten years on him. When Simon takes a seat on his usual stool, Ben sets the plate down in front of Simon, grinning.

It’s a full English with double of everything. While the pub doesn’t consistently serve food, Ben’s wife always makes Simon breakfast every Sunday morning. It’s tradition at this point.

Next to the plate, Ben sets down Simon’s beer and a cup of breakfast tea.

“Saw you on the cover of that magazine. Congrats. It’s deserved.” Ben leans against the bar top as Simon reaches up and removes the balaclava, setting it aside.

Ben doesn’t even blink or flinch. Why would he? Simon isn’t ugly. The few scars on Simon’s face don’t detract from his features. He might hide behind the balaclava but it isn’t because Simon hates himself.

Far from it.

He has a persona to put on. He needs separation between himself and everyone else. The people who meet him and come get tattooed all expect “Ghost” and “Ghost” wears a mask. Ben doesn’t give a shit about “Ghost,” and so Simon goes without when it’s just the two of them.

“Thanks,” replies Simon, taking a sip of tea before deciding what part of his plate he wants to tackle first. “How’s business?”

“Steady. Rent’s going up. As are my bloody taxes.” Ben shakes his head and Simon slices through one of the roasted tomatoes. “Fucking Tories and Labour can’t fucking agree on one bloody fu—” Ben glances up and immediately stops talking. “Sorry.” He holds both hands up in a placating gesture. “No politics on Sunday.”

Simon smirks. “Can I have my tea first?”

Ben drops his hands and leans against the bar top again. “But—and hear me out—if you have friends in the government…” He waves one of his hands around absently to indicate his point.

“I was military. You know this.”

“I’m aware, Simon. I’m only saying—”

“Don’t,” chuckles Simon as he cuts up the sausage on his plate.

Ben waves him off. “I know. But it’s the same bloody thing in the end.”

Simon snorts and grabs his tea. “No politics on Sunday, Ben.”

Ben gives a mocking, half-hearted salute before changing the subject. “Christmas is coming up in a couple months. Heading to the Highlands again?”

Every Christmas, Johnny invites Simon out to the Scottish Highlands to stay with his family. They spend most of their time on the MacTavish farm. It’s quiet out there, and Simon enjoys it.

Simon doesn’t have anyone. His family is gone. In the ground. Johnny knows this which is why he started inviting Simon ever since they first started working together. Gaz has come out a few times, and even Price showed up once for a short hunting trip.

But this year? Simon isn’t sure. You’re here now, but he has no idea for how long. If you’ll be in England for the foreseeable future, would you go with him? Would Johnny be okay with that?

The toast sticks in Simon’s throat and he has to wash it down with the remaining tea.

“That’s the plan,” he replies because it’s the only semi-truthful answer he can give.

Ben nods and taps the top of the counter. There’s a clatter from the direction of the kitchen and Ben sighs, his eyebrows rising slightly in a goodbye as he heads in the direction of the noise.

After that, Ben leaves Simon alone. He cleans the bar and glassware, puttering around Simon as he readies the place. When Simon finishes, Ben takes the plate, and then promptly offers it to Bravo who licks it clean.

The balaclava is back in place once the first wave of customers begins to roll in.

A few come in at a time—all of them old men who know each other. Regulars. Retirees who come in every day. They either scatter about individually or cluster in small groups near a television. Several of them acknowledge Simon with a nod of the head. Two take up spots at the bar.

Simon finishes his second beer and moves on to a third, considering when he’s going to switch over to whiskey. He always does. The door of the pub opens again and Simon takes a long swig of the golden amber liquid in his glass.

“Amelia! Usual spot?” calls out Ben.

The door is not in Simon’s line of sight, but he knows Amelia. She’s one of three women who comes to the pub on Sunday. Ben always puts on American baseball for her. She’s chatty, and has—on occasion—talked Simon’s ear off. But she’s sweet, and he’s never minded the attention. Sometimes, she even brings vegetables from her garden, and Simon always appreciates the gesture when she does.

“You know it, Ben,” replies Amelia.

“Already have it on.” Simon notices Ben’s sudden shift. His shoulders sharpen, back straightening as he watches something. It’s not confusion. Not exactly. Surprise? “And you brought guests.”

Guests. As in, plural. As in, multiple.

“Just the two,” laughs Amelia. “And only one is drinking. This one will need some tea and perhaps something to eat?”

Curious, Simon shifts slightly in the stool, bringing his glass up to his mouth for a drink to hide that interest in who it is that Amelia brought with her.

The first thing he notices is a young woman cradling a pregnant belly. He knows that familiar face. Evelyn. She stopped by his shop yesterday and introduced herself. But that’s not the first time Simon has seen her. She’s your friend, the one you were with at Riot Room. Simon saw her face every time his gaze was on you, and then again when he tore apart Riot Room’s security system in search of you.

Simon still has the old grainy video. He’s watched it so many times with the hope that he’d pick up on something. A clue that might lead you to him again. Three years he’s watched that surveillance feed. Three years and he hasn’t let you go.

Evelyn’s cheeks are rosy from the cold and she grins widely at Ben. Simon escorted her across the street and to The Bird after they chatted for a few minutes. People drive fast on it, which is true, but he was also curious. He thought that if she was around, you would also be around.

When he saw you there in that café, reality started to sink in. But he didn’t say anything. He simply stared like a bloody idiot and then politely excused himself. Simon isn’t shy, but he wouldn’t necessarily call himself bold. It was more like a subtle realization that Simon isn’t crazy, that he didn’t imagine you in the doorway, that these three years have only been preparing him for your return.

Simon’s gaze slides past Evelyn and lands on the woman standing behind her. He freezes, his glass halfway to his mouth.

You see him. And Simon sees you.

You’re here. In this pub. With him.

And you cannot run this time. There is no possibility to bolt without causing a scene. You’ve come to him, and now all Simon needs to do is get you to talk to him. That’s all he really wants. He wants to hear your voice, to find some understanding, to know if this obsession is entirely one-sided.

Simon observes your eyes widening and the soft inhalation as your lips part in surprise. He knows those lips. He’s kissed those lips. Felt them against his skin. They are a brand and those parts of him that know the memory of your mouth heat with desire.

The muscles in his legs are poised for action. They tell him to get up. To go to you. To drag you into his arms and take you away from prying eyes. Because Simon wants answers as much as he wants to revel in your warmth and return to those memories.

He’s been feasting on that old encounter, dishing out little fragments at a time to staunch the hunger but never enough to keep it away. This is his chance. This is his opportunity. Right now. In this place.

Something will happen between the two of you. Simon knows this in his very marrow.

As if suddenly realizing who it is you’re staring at, you quickly glance away from Simon, gaze focused on the back of Evelyn’s head or a point beyond. Simon wants to draw your gaze back to him. He hates that he cannot take action.

Because he will. Simon will take action now that you’re completely in his sights. But he needs to be strategic about it.

Amelia grabs hold of Evelyn’s upper arm and begins guiding the two of you around the pub. The damn woman stops at every table. Speaks to every person. It’s like Amelia is dragging this out on purpose.

Simon does not look away once. You have all his attention, and perhaps you know this. You’re so…ridged, and Simon senses an uneasiness to the way you forcibly smile at every person you meet.

He is so absorbed in your presence that he doesn’t hear Ben calling to him.

“Simon.”

Simon hears his name in the distance. He ignores it, instead watching as you move on to another table.

“Simon.” This time Ben leans into Simon’s line of sight, snapping his fingers.

Simon blinks and then shifts his gaze in Ben’s direction. Ben frowns, and Simon immediately softens his features. He doesn’t need to look in a mirror to know he likely looks irritated.

Ben nods toward the glass. “Want another?”

Simon pushes the empty stein toward him in silent answer. Ben snags it and tucks it away somewhere, grabbing a clean one to fill. When he sets it down on the bar top and Simon reaches for it, Ben draws it out of his reach. “You’re acting funny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Simon dryly, knowing exactly what Ben is referring to.

Ben snorts and then pushes the newly poured beer in Simon’s direction. Simon takes it and immediately takes a long drink. It doesn’t burn going down, but it’s not soothing either. Simon is on edge. He can feel it, like a venomous snake curled up in a pile of leaves.

Amelia turns and you follow, moving ever closer to him. She comes to a stop at the two men sitting near each other at the bar. Amelia is all smiles, as is Evelyn, but your smile has slipped into a neutral stare that only makes Simon sad. Like before, there is a weariness under your eyes that he longs to rub away.

Is it him? Does the very idea of the two of you coming together again bother you?

Simon immediately dismisses the idea. He noticed the tiredness when you were standing in the doorway of his shop. There is something else going on, something deeper, and Simon wants to know what it is. If he can, he will take it from you if that will ease the burden. That is, if you’ll allow him to.

The conversation between Amelia and the two men ends quickly. She guides you and Eveyln in Simon’s direction, and then you’re right there, in front of him, and Amelia is beaming like she’s just achieved some lofty goal.

“This is Simon,” she says casually, gesturing toward him, but Simon notices the underlying mischievousness to Amelia’s smile. “Runs the tattoo parlor just a few shops down. He’s the only young one we allow around here.”

Amelia’s grin is infectious, the kind that could make anyone smile. But Simon isn’t smiling. He’s too focused on you. He is so goddamn close. Simon could reach out and easily pull you right into his lap.

Amelia pats your shoulder. “I know the two of you know each other, but it’s been a while. How about you two catch up and Evie and I will go enjoy the game.”

Even though Amelia is speaking to you, she’s staring at Simon as she talks.

What are you up to, Amelia?

Her eyebrows rise slightly and Simon understands. She knows about you and Simon, at least to a certain capacity. Why else would she be abandoning you to him?

Evelyn’s grin is just as wide. Her gaze keeps darting between you and Simon with clear hope in the way she clutches her hands together in front of her chest.

“Amelia—” you interject, clearly frazzled.

“Sit,” insists Amelia, quickly ushering Evie away to her usual table in the far corner.

At first, you simply stand there, and Simon believes that you might turn your back on him and walk away. But you don’t. You don’t walk away from him nor do you break eye contact.

Slowly, you sink down on the stool next to him. Your gaze keeps darting across and over his face, like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Are you trying to remember him? Are you relearning him the way he’s currently relearning you?

“What will it be?” asks Ben, his gaze expectant.

You slightly turn your head in Ben’s direction to address him but you’re too focused on Simon. It’s a victory. A win. Simon knows he’s won in some capacity by how intensely you’re focused in on him.

“I’ll take whatever he’s drinking.” Ben shrugs and grabs a glass, filling it up before sliding it over to you. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Simon notices Ben’s attention shift to him. It’s a silent ask to make sure Simon is fine. That he’s not being bothered. But you’re not a bother, and Simon gives the look no acknowledgment. No one is going to take you away from him.

Never.

Simon sits up straighter, shifting in his stool. He keeps one arm on the bar top, but the other rests against his leg, his hand poised on his knee. Your knee is touching his, and the very tips of his fingers brush against your jeans.

It’s an electric jolt when Simon makes contact. But it’s also his way of pushing a boundary. Will you accept his touch or move out of it?

There is a span of breath, and it is you that speaks first.

“Hello,” you say weakly, brow softening.

Your voice is a remedy, the embrace after a long absence. Simon revels in it, absorbs it into himself, devours the quality of those syllables until it repeats in a pounding rhythm within his brain.

He is happy. He is whole.

“Hello,” replies Simon, and the sultry purr in his voice is unstoppable.

There is no going back. There is no return to how things were. You are all that Simon needs. Forget the shop and all of his responsibilities. You are finally here, not just a dream or memory.

That old encounter is now new and fresh. It is yesterday as much as it is three years ago.

You blink, mouth forming into a smile that stretches toward your ears. It is genuine and soft, and you glance down at your hands in embarrassment, trying to hide from him.

But you’re not allowed to hide from him. Simon wants everything. He wants those delicate lines and your harshness. He wants this smile to be aimed at him, to know that it is he that makes you happy.

When you glance up again, your smile is a bit gentler, but it only makes Simon eager.

“You’re a tattoo artist?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“You sound surprised,” replies Simon.

“Well, yes. I—” You pause, and then try again. “When I met you at Riot Room you seemed…dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he laughs.

“Yes.”

“And yet you left with me?”

You glance away quickly, and stare at your fingers where they rub at the condensation on your glass. “Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.”

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Safe. You felt—feel? —safe with him.

“What is it that you think I did for a living?” asks Simon, amusement creeping into his tone.

“Wasn’t tattoo artist,” you reply softly, lifting the glass for a small sip.

Simon’s index finger moves of its own accord, tracing slow circles over your knee. It feels natural to touch you, and you don’t pull away from him.

“I was military.”

“Was?” you ask, one eyebrow arching in curiosity.

There is so much Simon can say after that. And so much he can’t. Simon considers every possible answer before telling you the truth. “Forced into retirement. Sustained a few permanent injuries in the field.”

You surprise Simon, not because you apologize for something out of your control but because you reach out and take his hand. Squeezing softly, you look him in the eye, and the gaze is so direct that it startles him.

“And I’m sure you were very good at what you did.”

“The best,” replies Simon instantly.

The smile that spreads across your face is beautiful. He wants to capture it, to press his mouth to yours and steal it for himself.

“How long are you here for?” asks Simon, changing the subject.

You shrug. “Not entirely sure. A while.”

“And how long is a while?” Simon needs to know. Will he only have you for a few days or will he have you for weeks? Months?

“I’m supposed to be picking up a visa at the US Embassy next week. It’s being expedited but I still came early. Someone is working very hard behind the scenes to make it happen.”

You don’t elaborate, and Simon isn’t sure if he should push the subject or not. Visas typically last up to six months depending on what kind it is, and that gives him hope.

“So, you’ll be around?” he asks with just the slightest bit of hesitation.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll be around.”

Relief floods Simon’s veins. There will be plenty of time with you. He will make the most of it.

“Are you staying with Amelia?” prompts Simon, his gaze quickly shifting to find the woman across the pub. She’s sipping on her beer, but it’s clear that her attention isn’t really on the television.

“I am. The two of you know each other.”

Simon’s gaze returns to your face. “I know everyone who comes in.”

“Self-proclaimed old man, then?” you tease.

Simon grins, chuckles. “That an issue?”

“No,” you laugh softly, and it’s then that Simon realizes you’re still holding onto his hand. Your palm is warm and comforting. It isn’t slack or limp. It is present, clutching his with gentleness.

“Have any availability in your schedule?” The question surprises Simon. “For a tattoo that is.”

Technically, he has zero room in his schedule for the next few months, and will likely be booked out even longer once he starts chipping away at all those goddamn emails in his inbox. But for you? He’ll make room. Fuck everyone else.

“Tell me when and what time and I’ll make it happen.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement, wanting to lean into that. To taste and remember. But he holds back. There will be a time for him to do so, but not right this second. No matter how badly he wishes for it to be so.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call you,” you say with an awkward smile and shrug of your shoulders. “Ghost is what you told me at Riot Room but Amelia called you—”

“Simon,” he interjects. “To you, I’m Simon.”

“But Ghost—”

Simon’s hold on your hand tightens. “I know what I said. But Ghost is…a persona. He is separate, and I don’t want to be separate with you.”

“Simon,” you say slowly, rolling his name around on your tongue.

His name sounds so sweet in your mouth. He wants to know all the ways you can say it. How would you say his name when he finally kisses you again? Or when his mouth is on your body and between your legs? What will his name sound like when he’s buried deep inside you? How will his name sound then?

“I like the way you say my name,” he whispers, and the words leave him without second thought.

Your eyes widen. Your lips part. And Simon squeezes your hand again, shifting a little closer to you on the stool.

This place is too public. There are too many eyes on you. Simon needs to take you away. There are questions that still sit heavy in his mind. Things he wants to know.

His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “Will you come with me? Outside? Just for a bit?”

“Simon,” you murmur, and it takes everything in him not to groan with pleasure.

“Please,” and Simon is close to begging.

You glance over your shoulder at Amelia and Evelyn. They aren’t looking this way, and that seems to do it.

“Okay,” you agree, not even asking him where it is he plans on taking you.

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Simon slides out of his stool, standing, towering over you. Bravo perks up but Simon shakes his head at him. “Stay here, Bravo.” Bravo’s ears droop slightly but the dog puts his head back down.

You stand, too, never taking your eyes off of him. While your gaze is a rush, it’s your hand which still clutches his that makes Simon tingle all over. That is what he clings to, latches on to skin against skin.

He steps back and you step forward. You are following him, moving with him, and Simon’s blood is singing, thrumming with victory, rushing to a place it shouldn’t but is.

When the two of you turn the corner down the hall, Simon tries not to rush. He is eager but fuck—he needs to control himself. This could easily spiral out of his control if he doesn’t reel himself in. It doesn’t matter how much Simon wants you. If you’re not interested, he can’t push for it.

But you’re following him. You’re talking with him. You’re holding his goddamn hand.

He can’t be wrong about this.

The two of you approach the door to the private patio, and Simon almost snaps. There is a small alcove under the stairs. Simon has to control himself, to not push you up against the wall there in the dark, and kiss you until you become soft and compliant in his arms.

Instead, Simon inhales deeply, and pushes open the door to the patio.

It’s small, just a few tables with chairs and a couple of portable heaters. The patio itself is in the alleyway that cuts through the entire street, pushing up against a row of houses and a few businesses. There is a privacy fence that keeps out any potential onlookers. Simon only comes out here to smoke, and while he could go for a cigarette, he’d rather go for you.

Leading you to a bench pressed up against the wall of the building, Simon finds a spot right under one of the heaters. It’s cold out but it’s still fall. The coats are enough but he’s not risking shit. Either the heater will keep you warm or he will.

The two of you sink down onto the bench, and still, you do not let go of his hand. Simon refuses to be first. If you won’t let go, he won’t either.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as if trying to calm your nerves. Simon cannot hold back what it is he wants to ask.

“Why did you run?”

Your eyes snap open, and you turn toward him. He sees the sorrow, and the battle behind your gaze. You’re finding the words, gathering your thoughts, and Simon silently hopes that you do not try to lie to him.

“At Riot Room?”

He shakes his head. “Not just there. Outside the shop, too.”

You blink. Look away. Glance back. The very bottoms of your eyelids are watery. Simon does not want to be the reason you cry, but you ran from him twice. Bolted. At Riot Room, he was hurt. Devasted. He didn’t understand.

Outside his tattoo parlor, that exit he can dismiss. It’s been three years and you were probably shocked. But that first escape haunts him lays across his skin like a ghost.

“I’m sorry I ran from you,” you whisper.

Simon shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

You glance down at your combined hands, but you’re not saying anything.

“Tell me,” murmurs Simon.

Slowly, Simon lifts his free hand, lightly takes your chin between thumb and forefinger. He guides your head up, moves your gaze back to his face. Once you’re looking at him again, Simon’s thumb travels the line of your jaw.

You lean into the touch. “I…was too close.”

“Too close?” pushes Simon.

“Yes. You felt…I wanted to stay. But I was scared.”

“Of me?”

“No!” you say quickly, your free hand gripping his upper arm, squeezing. “Never. It all felt like more. That it wasn’t just sex between us. That scared me.”

“And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?” Simon leans in and you do not pull back or shrink away. You also lean forward, and Simon is so close to getting what he wants.

“It’s been three years,” you murmur. “You don’t mean that.”

“Have you not thought about me? Not once? Because I’ve thought of you. Every day.”

Simon let’s go of your hand, only to wrap his arms around your waist. You surrender to him, and Simon changes position on the bench, straddling it, pulling you into his lap. Your legs effortlessly go around him, and your hands cling to the neckline of his shirt.

“Have you thought of me? Tell me the truth,” growls Simon.

You’re so close. Lips just a breath away from touching his.

“Yes,” and when it leaves your throat, Simon hears the gentle break. “Many times. So many times.”

Simon hand travels up from your waist to grab the back of your neck. Your inhale is sweet. Wanton. He can’t have you completely, not at the moment, but he’ll take whatever it is you’re willing to give in this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

The words barely leave his mouth before you’re closing the distance. Simon answers you with a kiss of his own. There is no hesitant gap, no pause for breath, just you and him and your mouths meeting.

The kisses that follow are not mechanical or stagnant. They are generous and lovely and hungry. Your lips are soft, and Simon’s grip on the back of your neck only strengthens when your hips roll against him.

Your hand on his chest forms a fist, your fingers digging into the front of his shirt. Simon doesn’t care if you tug and pull, if you accidentally rip it. You can have whatever the fuck you want with the way you’re kissing him.

Simon groans low in his throat as his other hand makes passes over your thighs, hips, and lower back. He’s exploring your curves, relearning your body. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.

His blood is boiling. It is screaming, telling him to take you home, to finish what he started in the green room within the basement at Riot Room. Simon will make you his. You will take every inch of him, beg him repeatedly for more until you lose your voice, and Simon will do it, will keep going until you’re a deliciously perfect puddle in his arms.

Your fist unclenches, trails downward, and stops just above his belt. You’re going to make him fucking feral if you keep touching him like this. Any lower and it’s over. There will be no asking about taking you home.

Simon will simply toss you over his shoulder and go straight there.

Sitting up a bit, you shift in his lap, and that one small movement rubs the one spot blood is rushing to.

Fuck.

He doesn’t want to break the kiss. Simon doesn’t want to pull away, but all of his control is slipping away, melting from him like ice in the sun.

When Simon breaks the kiss, you whimper, and Simon’s answer is to dig his fingers into your thighs, pressing up into you to show you exactly how he wants you.

“Come home with me,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your lips are swollen and puffy. They’re perfect, and he nips at the bottom one before gently sucking it into his mouth.

“Right now?” you breathe.

Right now? No. The two of you can’t run off together right now. Simon has a fucking tab to pay, even if Ben could give a shit and tell Simon to pay him later. Plus, there is Amelia and Evelyn to think about.

Yes, they pushed you into Simon’s path, but you’re technically here with them. He won’t take you away. Simon is selfish when it comes to you, but he’s already waited three fucking years. What’s a few more hours until you’re back in his arms?

“Tonight.”

You’re shaking your head. Why are you shaking your head?

“I can’t,” you reply and now Simon is the one shaking his head.

“When?” he asks. “When can I see you again?”

Your gaze flicks up and Simon is lost for a moment, only thinking about how wonderful you feel in his lap. It takes him back to Riot Room when you first straddled him on that couch, kissing his lips, touching his body.

His mind wanders further, forming the image of you spread out, facing the mirror.

“Tomorrow? I can stop by in the morning.”

The morning. It’s not enough time with you. What Simon wants is for you to come over tonight. He wants to take you over every surface in his home like he planned on doing three years ago.

But he’ll take whatever you give him. If you can come by tomorrow morning, Simon will cherish it. He will be happy knowing that you want to see him at all.

And while he wishes all of this, there is a hesitant hopefulness in your gaze, like Simon will reject the offer. Are you just as nervous as he is? Are you wanting him as much as he wants you? Do you desire to be close to him in more ways than just your bodies meeting?

Because Simon wants all of you. Every bit.

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

Your smile is sweet. Wholesome. You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him, nearly knocking Simon onto his back.

“Sorry,” you laugh, beginning to pull away.

“No, you don’t. Come back here.” Simon grabs at you, pinning you against his chest, taking your mouth again, deepening the kiss until your lips part for him. His tongue traces the edge of your bottom lip, and yours darts out to meet him.

Simon is lost in you. Lost in your mouth, lips, and tongue. Lost in your touch. Lost in—

“Hate to interrupt!”

You pull back so fast you almost fall off the bench. Simon might not be in the military anymore, but his reflexes are still sharp. He catches you before you topple over.

Evelyn stands in the doorway, one hand over her eyes like she’s just walked in on something she shouldn’t be seeing.

“Amelia paid the tab. We’re leaving.”

“Shit,” you mutter, starting to unravel yourself from the bench.

Simon stands with you, his fingers slipping from yours as you head for the doorway. You glance back and smile, quickly looking between him and Evelyn before darting inside. Evelyn drops her hand and then crosses her arms over her belly, grinning wickedly.

“You’re welcome, Ghost.” She winks and disappears inside, the door shutting softly behind her.

Simon stands there in the autumn cold, his bare fingers lightly touching his lips in memory of you.

He laughs softly, drops his hand, and pulls the balaclava back into place.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

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[beyondthegame]

DEMO (coming soon...)

The referee brings the whistle to their lips, ready to kick off the game…

There’s no easy road to becoming an athlete. You of all people will know that. Now you’ve finally got your chance. From playing football in a muddy park during a rainy afternoon to signing the professional contract you’ve been dreaming of — the road to stardom is here. You can imagine it all now: being an athlete that jets across the world, having fans that wear your name on the back of their shirts; gaining sponsors and money, and… fame.

You’ve put pen to paper in London and now the ink has dried. It's official. You are an Inter City FC player. You’re starting your career as a professional footballer with a club that has objectives of their own. Winning the league. To the new club you’ve signed for, you’re the missing puzzle piece to their success. 

But, the beautiful game is more than just a mere ball at your feet. It’s more than just your manager and teammates. It’s the media, the opposition, the rivals and everything in between.

There isn’t anything you want more than this. To make a name for yourself on and off the pitch. To press your lips to the shiny trophies you’ve worked so hard for. To hear fans chanting your name in the crowd. To have a club that feels like a family.

Nothing can get in the way, that’s been your motto since you first started playing. Surely the beautiful game won’t ruin you when you’ve given so much to it. 

You just wonder whether it’ll be worthwhile.

Let the match commence…

This is an 18+ game due to explicit language, sexual themes, mention of sexual themes, mental health issues and more.

Customise and play as a male, female or non-binary; straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, graysexual, demisexual, asexual, footballer w/ the choice of your own pronouns.

Choose your footballer’s position: goalkeeper, defender, midfielder, or striker.

Pick your footballer’s public persona. Will the media adore you? Or will you keep them on their toes? Will they love or loathe you?

Did you make it due to hard-work or sheer talent?

Manager your social media presence.

Decide your footballer’s playing style and strengths: a player with flair? Or a no nonsense baller with physicality?

Play as a person of colour (this choice can have an effect on the story). Your gender can also have an effect in game. 

Travel the world with your football club that will become a family.

Romance any of the five romantic options; four of which are gender-selectable; male, female and non-binary. The ROs are: the rival, the teammate, the best friend, the idol and the heir — these romances will get the rumours starting…

Develop meaningful friendships, relationship… or even hook-ups.

Take the sporting world by storm. Do you play football for the fame? Or for your love of the game?

THE RIVAL

It didn’t start off as a rivalry. But you and Nikita/Navarro/Nevada Tallon weren’t the best of friends either. The two of you started at the same football academy, and whilst you were signed for an extra year, they were rejected. That was their first loss. For a while, they lost their dream. Forever: they lost you. Now it’s different. They’re all grown up and they’ve found a football team to call their own — A.C. United — the football team that happens to be the rival to yours. Football is full of history, it’s full of emotion too — and you and N have plenty of that to give, both on and off the pitch. Their one goal is to win. The two of you are, once again, fighting for the same crown. To be the best footballer in the city. Maybe even the world.

Maybe things will be different this time around between you two. The stone-cold glares and the snide remarks could dissolve into something else. Into something real and something beyond hatred.

THE TEAMMATE

You’re the newcomer. You’re waltzing into a team that’s somewhat established already, so having a teammate like Léa/Lando/Lakelyn Santos (their gender matches your mc's) to ease you in is always welcome. They’re the captain of Inter City and they’re a bit of a media darling. Graceful on the pitch, and even more graceful to the press. They’re confident, assured, calm and collected. But, beneath all that lies something else. It’s been a while since someone’s seen the real them. They were burned in the past, all because of a well documented break-up that took a lot out of them. Since then, L has been sworn off of falling for another athlete again, and they're keeping everyone at an arm's length. Beyond football, it’s not easy to get close to them.

But if you did, what a powerful couple that would grace the footballing world.

THE BEST FRIEND 

You know how hard it is to be an athlete. Milan St. Clair knows it too. Since becoming best friends in your twenties, you know you’ve both had the same goal. Whilst they are trying to conquer the tennis world and you’re making it in football, they’re the one constant that remains. The one who is familiar and comforting. Maybe the two of you could’ve been something more, or maybe your passionate personalities for your sports just got in the way. Milan’s rising through the tennis ranks now, they’re becoming more known. Their game continues to improve more than anyone ever expected. They have Grand Slams in their sights.

But you are right in front of them. You could both cross that line, take that next step and become more than friends…

THE IDOL

Cypress de Vera, known for their precise and thunderous tackles — Cypress is footballing royalty. Their potential was high, their talent was even higher — they’ve set records for the ages. But, their career came to an abrupt end after tragedy. Despite all that, football is still their life, they live and breathe the sport. They are always going to be idolised. You idolise them and so does the press. The media still want to know what the great Cy de Vera is going to do next — and now they’re at Inter City. Back at the club that gave them everything, to steer them to success, only this time it won’t be as a player.

Stern and hard to impress, Cypress de Vera only has a championship title on their mind. But sometimes you need to lose focus, let your guards down and just feel something more than a ball on the tip of your toes.

THE HEIR

Estelle/Evren/Everest Acevedo. They’ve been involved in football all their life, but not in the same way you have. Their father is your new manager. E has riches, fame, and a powerful last name — but take it from them, it’s not all its cracked up to be. They’re in a world that’s entirely their own, they model, sing and now their passion has shifted to wanting to write a bestselling novel. Their life has been a whirlwind, and honestly, if the world came with an off switch they’d hit it immediately. But they like to have their fun: their sharp tongue, constant media presence, and attraction to chaos means they ignore their father’s footballing legacy and will continue to make a name for themselves. E has been branded as trouble and it's a current name they quite like.

There’s more to E than meets the eye, and they’re desperate for someone to see it. Give them a chance, peel back the confident persona. You’ll be pleasantly surprised…