#studded ankle boots

[fashion-boots]

Shoebidoo: Giaro Spikes and Pink soles

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Smackdown 12/8/23

Scarlett wore the Genevieve Flower Cutout Draped Mesh Mini Dress In Red from Mew Mews ($109.90) and the Taclou 140 Black Leather Stud Heel Ankle Boots from Christian Louboutin (not available)

[samkerrworshipper]

never be the same again.

leah williamson x injured!reader

warnings: injury, knee injuries, angst, hurt/comfort

You’d never been a player who’d dealt with minor injuries. You never struggled with soreness, or cramps, or little niggles that kept you sidelined every once in a while. When your injuries came, they came full force, full out, full throttle. You figured that it was probably how your body worked, it all got pent up until you suffered a shattering injury.

When you were 16, it had been the complete rupture of all of your lateral ankle ligaments. When you were 19, it had been a compound fracture in your arm caused by a dutch U20’s player putting their studs through your arm. At 22 it had been a torn labrum in your hip.

You figured you were well overdue now at 25, almost 26, having been completely injury free for well over three years, you just hadn’t expected it to be so bad.

It was a normal day, or as normal as a day for you could get.

You’d woken up with sleep in your eyes and your hair splayed out everywhere, in a similar state to your girlfriend laying beside you. Your morning had been peaceful, the two of you simply co existing as you went about your usual routines, the both of you enjoying the normality of it all.

You’d driven the two of you to training, your hands creasing against the leather of the wheel as you navigated your way through North London.

Leah hummed along to whatever R&B radio station she’d tuned into for the morning, without failure she always pretended to be interested in whatever news the hosts would talk about, and without failure would forget all about it by lunch time. You entertained her interest anyways in whatever topic that she chose to trivialise for the morning ride, enjoying the way that Leah could talk so passionately about something as mundane as random news.

When you arrived at London Colney the two of you both went separate ways, Leah needing a little bit more of a intensive rehab from the physios after a game weekend. So she walked off in search of the ohysio room, whereas you headed straight towards the gym, knowing that all you needed on a normal day was a bit of a stretch out to get everything feeling activated.

Kyra and Lessi were both in the gym as you walked in, the two slightly younger players tolling out on the mats. You joined them, commenting here and there on whatever they were saying as your other teammates slowly trailed in from the physios or their cars.

Just as you were heading towards the weights, Leah walked in, her body automatically walking to find you, there was no need for the two of you to discuss spotting partners, it was a unspoken rule that the two of you always went together.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the natural competition that was created from the two of you playing opposing positions, or if it was just the competitive nature of your relationship, but Leah and you just pushed each other ten times harder. She had the guts to tell you when you needed to pusb more, when you could do better, and also when you needed to slow down. It was a balance between the two of you, of knowing how far to push the other, but also where the line was.

The two of you alternated with your sets, until you’d both worked through your programs and were ready to head out to the pitch.

You didn’t really get anxiety, but as soon as Leah and yourself walked towards the locker room, in search of your boots and training gear, you got a feeling inside of your stomach that you couldn’t shake. You’d played in champions league semi-finals, euro finals, world cup finals, and never had a single bit of anxiety, but as you fished your boots from your locker and laced them up you just couldn’t shake it.

You figured you were just coming down with something, the flu was going around, you were probably just becoming under the weather. You ignored the way that it spread across the surface of your chest, like there were sets of suction cups all over your stomach and chest.

It was probably nothing, it was most likely nothing.

You kept telling yourself that as Leah grabbed you by the shoulder and walked you out towards the field with the rest of the group, there wasn’t anything different about the day that would make you feel this way, so why should you worry about it.

Training started with normal warm ups, as it always did. The squad darting in and around polea and cones, dribbling through them, and no matter how far you dug yourself into the normality of the routine you were going through, you just couldn’t shake it.

As time went past it got more complex, your group working on shooting whilst the defenders worked off on a pitch to the side and the goalkeepers tried to keep your balls from sailing past them.

It was your bread and butter, the most basic of things you could do, yet it all felt wrong.

Somehow, it felt like you were disconnected from your own body, like you were somehow watching your life from your own perspective.

You continued on, you were probably just getting sick. It wasn’t a often occurrence for you, but when you did it was always bad.

You kept telling yourself that as you transitioned from practice drills to game scenarios. Lia was injured, and Kim was sitting out due to some hamstring soreness, which left you as the main midfielder, not a unwelcome spot but not exactly normal either. You alternated between the attacking mid and a striker/center forward, never really in the defensive side of the midfield though.

With Leah yelling at you from behind and your eyes focusing on Stina and Caitlin in front of you.

With Lotte and Steph as the opposing defence it was hard to know how and where to get to be able to slot the ball into a good position for your attackers.

It’s a lot, the feeling inside of you, everything happening around you.

You don’t normally crack under pressure, and this is probably the least pressured environment you’ve played in your whole entire life, but it feels like for the first time that you just can’t focus.

Leah’s yelling, Jonas is yelling, Stina is yelling, and even though the ball isn’t even at your feet it feels like they’re all yelling at you.

You don’t even have the ball at your feet, yet.

Yet when you push, chasing the ball that Lotte had sent at you down the wing, you twist, and rotate.

All you feel is pain, possibly the worst pain you’ve ever felt.

It feels like you’re lef has been hit by a lighting bolt, and you seriously consider that maybe it had been.

You know though, you’ve seen it happen so many times that you would be a fool to not know what this is. You’re pressed face down on the grass, unmoving, just trying to take it in.

The scent of freshly clipped grass and mud floods your senses. A hand sets itself down on your shoulder and you know your done, that this isn’t some sick dream, you are well and truly fucked.

As if your knee still radiating the worst pain you’ve ever experienced isn’t enough.

“Someone get the physios.”

You hear it yelled out about a hundred times, although none of it really gets absorbed in your brain, you’re in to much pain to think, let alone really absorb the magnitude of what that means.

“Hey mate, we’re going to turn you over okay.”

It’s Caitlin, the anxiety in her voice isn’t missed by you, your aussie teammates hands settling on your shoulders and gently, but quickly, flipping you over.

The sky is grey, and a little bit too bright.

You can’t speak, out of fear that you’ll start sobbing if you do, you don’t want to cry, even if it feels like your leg is actively being chopped off.

You keep your eyes clamped shut, unable to look at the faces of your peers that have crowded above you.

“Babe, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

You keep your mouth clamped shut, you can’t deal with Leah. She’s just gotten over her injury properly, she’s recovered, and yet here you are, in the same position she was just over a year ago.

“Everybody clear away, give her some space. For fucks sakes, somebody go find Rose or Gary.”

At the sound of your captains scottish voice, the crowd slowly started to breakaway, the sound of boots scuffing against the grass beside you slowly petering off.

You kept your eyes screwed shut, for your own safety.

You can’t move your leg, you try to wiggle your toes but even the attempt at getting your nerves to stimulate puts you in a whole other world of pain.

It’s too much pain.

So much pain.

Worse than you could have imagined.

“Babe, I need you to talk to me, what hurts?”

Leah’s voice, Leah’s slightly stressed voice.

“My knee, my fucking knee.”

The air that hits your lungs is cold as your mouth opens to reiterate what you’re going through. It forces you to breathe, to take a big deep breath and inhale.

You pull the neck of your singlet to your mouth within seconds, biting down on the material to stop any of the sounds of pain escaping.

You open your eyes, and you see the fear on Leah’s face, she knows, just as well as you know, exactly what is going on.

Just as she looks like she’s about to say more, the doctor and the physio crouch down beside you.

“Knee?”

All you did was nod your head, trying your very hardest to not start actually sobbing, even though there were tears dripping down your face.

“Alright, can you wiggle your toes for me?”

You tried your very hardest to try and move your foot, even just a centimetre, but you just couldn’t.

The doctor seemed to notice your aggravation, and shook his head.

“Alright, we’re going to get your leg stabilised and then get you onto the stretcher. We’ll assess in the locker room.”

You couldn’t do anything but keep your head on the grass, pointed at the sky, avoiding everything and anything that came into your line of sight.

You knew it was bad when they tried to push a board underneath your leg and even just that movement hurt more than anything.

You immediately cried out, the t-shirt in your mouth doing absolutely nothing to silence the pure pain that you were expressing.

Everyone around you cringed, normally, acls didn’t hurt this much after a couple of minutes, the initial pain was horrific, but it faded. For you, nothing was fading, and with every passing second it felt like you were closer to losing consciousness due to the sheer amount of agony that was coming from your leg.

The doctors tried to be as quick about it as they could, but it didn’t stop you from screaming as they slid the board completely under your leg and strapped different parts of your leg to the board to keep it still.

You wished you were dead.

Whatever this was, you would rather be dead.

“Alright, we’re going to get you onto the stretcher now, keep going with the deep breaths, we’ll find you some pain relief once we’re inside.”

You nodded your head, you just needed it to be over.

You felt a few people grab different parts of your body, lifting you up before gently setting you down inside of the orange plastic.

They left your knee last, at least three people working to try and lift it into the stretcher, it all hurt though.

You screamed, and you screamed, and you screamed again.

You wouldn’t be surprised if the bloody king could hear you considering how loud you were.

You kept repeating the same word.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

You just needed it all to stop.

Please, lord, let it all stop.

When you were still in the stretcher, they began to lift you up, six different people taking hold of the stretcher and beginning to walk you back inside.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of Leah, who looked so horrified and mortified that it almost hurt as much as the pain in your knee.

“Lee, make it stop, please, make it stop.”

The pain wasn’t fading, it was everywhere, all over, covering every inch of your body.

“Baby, just take some deep breaths, it’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be alright.”

Even Leah didn’t seem like she believed her own words, she was trying her hardest but you could tell that even she was so unsure about what was happening.

“Leah, please, make it stop.”

Leah looked like she was lost, like she had sbolutely no idea what to do.

“I will baby, I promise, we’re almost inside.”

You shook your head, god you had no words for what this was.

The tears just kept flowing, your vision being clouded by the salty drops that had nowhere to go besides pooling in your eyes.

You were done, whatever this was, you were done, there was no coming back from this.

You closed your eyes again, trying to sink into your own head, trying to make it all disappear.

It worked for a few seconds, before you were jolted in the stretcher as you were brought inside, the pain resettling across your body.

You get placed on top of one of the physio beds, Leah and Kim helping to lift you out of the stretcher and onto the bed, even as you cried and thrashed, begging for it to stop.

For the first time, you got a proper look at your knee, and from the second you laid eyes on it you knee it was bad, your whole knee was swollen up like a balloon and there was a bump just below your knee cap, where all the pain was coming from.

The doctor got to work quickly, sending everybody else out of the room besides the physios as he began to remove your leg from the board and access it.

Somewhere along the way, one of the physios found a green whistle, shoving it into your hands and allowing you to have a smidge of relief as your leg was poked and prodded.

For the most part, it was silent, no noise besides the sound of your tears dripping down your face and the doctor typing up his reports onto his laptop after every test he conducted.

They left your knee on the table, your right lower extremity looking deflated as the doctor turned to finish typing up whatever report he was making.

“I can bring your girlfriend back in, if you’d like?”

You turned to the physio, rose, who looked as deflated as you knee did.

You weren’t really sure if you were ready to face Leah.

“Yes, please.”

Rose nodded and smiled, turning around to walk towards the door, opening it up and allowing Leah to walk in.

She stayed silent, walking over to take the seat beside you, her hand immediately finding yours.

She squeezed, and for a second you thought that maybe it was going to be fine, but then that second passed.

The doctor turned around to face both of you and you just knew, you knew that he was about to ruin your life.

“I’ve just called the surgeon, we’re going to need to get you in for scans and surgery tomorrow. You’ve ruptured your patellar tendon and it looks like you’ve also ruptured your meniscus and acl, I’m sorry.”

All of the oxygen in your lungs had been sucked out, you couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t speak.

You were done, tearing an acl was bad, tearing a meniscus was bad, tearing your patellar tendon was horrible.

Doing them all together, it was pretty much unheard of.

“It’s not a confirmed diagnosis, we’ll need scans but your at risk of dislocating your knee or worse if your patellar is torn, so we need to be urgent about this. How does scans at 8am tomorrow sound, and if it comes back torn then surgery around 12?”

God, this was so much worse than you could have ever imagined.

“Sounds good, thank you doctor.”

Leah’s voice said what it needed, a silent dismissal that you both needed your time.

The doctor smiled and nodded at Leah, before taking his leave, leaving just Leah and you sitting in the room by yourselves.

“Bubba, it’s going to be okay, we’ll figure this out.”

Your career was over, short lived and over.

“Leah, get out.”

You needed a minute, you needed your brain to kick into gear so you could begin to understand this.

“Babe, I did it, Beth did it, Viv did it, Laura did it, you’re going to be fine, we’re going to be fine.”

You shook your head.

“Leah, get the fuck out.”

Your voice was croaky, but you managed to get it to the level of a yell.

Leah’s hand slid out from your own.

“I’m sorry babe, I’m sorry about this, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head.

“Leah, get out.”

She looked like she was at a mental crossroads, trying to figure out whether she should leave or not, ultimately she made rhe decision to nod her head, walking towards the door, stopping when her hand connected with the handle of the doorknob to send a sad smile your way.

“I’m going to go get our stuff together, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

A couple of minutes, that should be enough, right?

The door closed behind Leah and you felt a whole different weight set itself down on your chest.

What were you supposed to do?

Your leg, your knee, was literally folding in on you, everything was over.

You were a starter, a co-captain, for both national and club teams, you weren’t the best, but you were up there, you were one of the best attacking midfielders in the world, and yet now, you were nothing.

You didn’t have anything besides football, football was your life, you’d given up everything for football, yet now, it felt like it was being pulled out from underneath you.

You didn’t know how you were going to survive this.

7 months later

You were being stupid.

You’d been told from the very minute you’d gone into recovery that you weren’t going to play again, simply, your knee wouldn’t ever be able to handle that kind of pressure again.

You didn’t think that you could prove your doctors wrong, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to try, you had nothing else to lose.

Leah hadn’t wanted to be an accomplice in your plan, in fact, she’d been quite the opposite, yelling at you as soon as you’d brought the idea up.

You’d lost a lot during your rehab, everything had changed, what you hadn’t lost though, was your ability to manipulate those blue eyes into doing whatever you wanted.

That’s how Leah and yourself had ended up here, the two of you standing on the grass of a local pitch, a ball at your feet.

For the first few months, you’d refused completely to go anywhere near a ball, knowing that football had done this to you.

As the seasons changed though and your life slowly started to come into perspective you changed, your body changed, everything around you changed.

Your life was different, but it wasn’t over. You still had things, you still had something to live for.

Leah looked about as unamused as you thought, you’d dragged her out of the house for your usual evening walk, funnily enough she didn’t even realise the change in route until you found yourselves out the front of the park.

It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing, or less than you’d thought.

You’d been shooting on your own for a couple of weeks, short range, no movement besides the motion. You’d started jogging a month ago, which was about as good as your recovery was going to get.

“C’mon, defend me properly.”

Leah looked at unease, the Euro’s were due to start in a couple of weeks and your fiance was ready to lead the reigning champs to hopefully another win, hopefully.

Leah took a step towards you, still keeping a few feet distance.

“I’m defending you, can you just take a shot so we can leave?”

Leah had been patient, a lot more patient then you’d been during her rehab, she’d dealt with all your dramatics, all the shit you’d put her through.

“Leah, c’mon, defend me properly, I’m not going to collapse.”

Leah looked at you like you were stupid.

She did take a step closer though, her toe pushing the ball towards yours.

“Put a ball past me, put a ball past the best centre-back in the world, go ahead.”

One of the best, you’d been one of the best once upon a time as well.

You looked down at the ball, beginning to dribble it a few steps forward, Leah followed, as you got to the top of the goal square, you knew you needed to cross it over from your right to your left, from your bad leg to your good one.

Knees were stupid.

You managed to cross the ball, but as you lunged off of your bad leg, it all went downhill.

You were on the ground in seconds, your body collapsing.

It wasn’t the same, you kept telling yourself that, that it wasn’t the same pain, it wasn’t the same agony.

Leah’s hands were on you immediately, rolling you over so that you were looking at each other.

“You just had to be a fucking idiot, what hurts, where does it hurt?”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, before you started laughing.

Leah looked like she was going to strangle you.

“I’m okay Le, just stupid, okay, stupid that I thought that somehow it would all fucking click and that it would all somehow be fine.”

Leah’s face fell, and she collapsed down onto the ground besides you, one of her arms wrapping around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her.

“It sucks, but you need to come to terms with it baby, you have so many options, commentating, journalism, working with the team. I know it’s the end of your dream, and it fucking sucks, but it’s not worth hurting yourself more in the process. You’re my idiot, and I love you, but you need to find something else.”

You hated that you were being forced to find something else, that it wasn’t your choice, it had all just…. happened.

“I know.”

Leah nodded.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

2 years later

“Y/n, you’ve got the best perspective on this, what do you think it means for Arsenal to win the league like this?”

You’d watched your wife, win the league, win the triple this year, from the sidelines.

Commentating, reporting, it was all fun, but it wasn’t the same, if anything it was a stab in the heart.

“Well as everyone knows, as a Arsenal homegrown girl, this has been a long time coming, and I couldn’t be more proud of the girls, they’ve had a season of all seasons, I don’t think it could have been a better year for them.”

You looked backwards, at your wife, as the team stood on the stage ready to lift the trophy.

With every bone in your body you wished you were with them, but you couldn’t be.

“And to their captain, what do you think this means?”

You looked at Leah, how happy she looked.

“Well, considering Leah and I have been the same amount of time, put in all of the years and sweat and tears I can’t imagine that this couldn’t be the pinnacle of her career. It’s great to win things with country, but this is fulfillment, winning something like the league is something else because it means that all of the hardwork over a season is done, and you get to relax.”

You struggled to keep the tears at bay.

You wished you could know the true feeling, coaching, commentating, it didn’t do the same, it didn’t have the same kind of meaning behind it.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and celebrate with my wife. This is y/n williamson signing off, I’ll see you next season.”

You pulled out your in ear and put your microphone back down on the stand, turning around and beginning to walk onto the pitch.

Leah caught your eyes quickly, it wasn’t hard considering the arsenal red suit you were wearing, and the slight staggered limp that you held as you walked towards her.

Leah smiled at you, big and bright.

Your lives weren’t over, in fact they were just beginning.

She hnaded the trophy over to Lia, before walking your way, running towards you and bringing you into her arms immediately.

“There’s my lucky charms.”

She looked down at your stomach and you couldn’t help but slap her.

It was your best kept secret, your career had been ended by your knee, but you’d chosen to start a new life, a better one.

“We wouldn’t have gotten here without you baby, off and on the pitch.”

You kept your blush to a minimum, unable to ignore the fact that the pinkness was rising up your neck.

“Alright softy, go and celebrate with the team, I’ll be here watching.”

Leah pouted, but nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead before beginning to walk off.

Life wasn’t the same and it wasn’t how you wanted it, but it wasn’t over.

————————————

ngl i hate the end of this but we move

[chelseacult]

I Should Hate You

Katie McCabe x Chelsea!Reader

Summary: Katie is tasked with marking you.

Word Count: 1.1k words

You knew that playing Arsenal at the Emirates would be a struggle. The roaring celebratory crowds anytime an Arsenal player started a run. The equally enthusiastic boos every time you and your teammates so much as touched the ball. Nothing out of the ordinary. What you weren’t expecting, though, was your current position. 

“Sorry, darlin’,” says Arsenal’s Irish superstar as she untangles her body from yours. She stands and reaches both of her hands out for you, a small smile on her face. You might’ve appreciated the gesture if she hadn’t been on the offensive end of all the fouls you’ve encountered during the last 60 minutes. But she has been, so you don’t. Instead, you brush her off and pull yourself up before returning to your original position. 

“That’s, like, the 10th time she’s fouled me. I swear she has a personal vendetta against me or something,” you gesture around aimlessly as you take your place next to your best friend. 

“What has she done now?” Lauren James asks with a quiet laugh as she kneels down to retie her boots. 

“Aside from embarrassing me repeatedly for the past hour, she just tripped me. On purpose, probably.” You reach a hand down and help LJ up once she finishes tying her laces.

LJ lets out a laugh at your reply. “Right, well, that’s called ‘marking.’ Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” LJ squeezes your shoulder with a smirk before the referee blows her whistle, signaling for play to start back up. You share a laugh before attempting to clear your mind and get back into the game. Your attempt starts fruitfully, and you forget all thoughts of your complications with the Irish woman. 

You begin running up the wing as your teammates initiate an attack. “Heads up!” Erin yells as she sends the ball soaring toward you from the 18-yard box. Before you can even think about your next move, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle and shoulder, and you find yourself on the ground once again. Your teammates shout, and the crowd erupts in deafening boos as the referee shows your assailant a yellow and then points to the spot. 

“Oh, bullshit! I hardly touched her!” exclaims a voice you’ve grown all too accustomed to hearing today. 

“Want to explain why I’m on the ground then?” Nathalie helps you up as you glare at Katie. “I’m okay,” you assure Nathalie quickly, brushing off her questioning of your fitness and turning back toward the Ireland captain. 

“I don’t know, but I think VAR’s about to find out,” Katie states with a smirk (that you wish you could smack off her face) as she raises her eyebrows and gestures behind you before crossing her arms. You turn to see the referee walking to the penalty check screen. An intense suspense fills the stadium as everyone awaits the referee’s final decision. 

“Has to go our way. She completely clipped you. Studs up and everything,” speaks your captain, Millie Bright. She joins the swarm of fellow Chelsea players that has now formed around you, the Arsenal players having disbursed. 

After a thorough review of the penalty decision, the referee swiftly returns to the pitch. With a firm expression, she announces her reversal of the call, awarding the decision in favor of Arsenal. 

“Come on! That is shit!” Guro shouts as the referee cancels the previously awarded penalty. The thunderous cheers of the Arsenal fans drown out her shouts. The dramatics of the Norwegian winger do nothing to ease your spirits like they usually would. The game ends shortly after, ending in a 3-1 Arsenal win. 

You deflate, refraining from diplomatically shaking hands with the Arsenal players after the game. You’re standing off to the side watching a bantering Sam Kerr and Caitlin Foord when you sense a presence walking up behind you, followed by the feeling of two hands on your waist. “Think ya better fire your diving instructor,” the voice whispers in your ear before the accompanying hands pull you toward their chest. 

You pull away from the person completely and turn around to face the Irish woman who has recently been the absolute vain of your existence. “I know that you know that call was fucked,” you say sternly.

Katie mock gasps, raises her eyebrows, and drops her jaw. “You want us to what?” she jokes and feigns disbelief.

“Stop,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. She steps closer to you at this reply.

She laughs, “Ah, that’s not a word I hear too often. The eye roll is a different story.” You’re unsure if the innuendos were intentional. The way she’s not even trying to hide biting her lip answers this question for you, though. She smirks again at your lack of response, and you only kind of want to smack it off her face this time. You feel your face heat up as she keeps her eyes trained on yours. You nervously look away and busy yourself watching Niamh’s post-match interview, hoping that Katie will just walk away.

You keep your eyes on Niamh as you feel Katie step close to you again, despite something urging you to turn your head toward the other girl. Katie keeps her hands to herself as she leans close to whisper in your ear this time; her lips brush against your ear as she murmurs, “The more you try to ignore me, the more I want to be right here.” Your breath catches as her words linger in your ear. 

Katie pulls away after a tension-filled minute, her expression combining smug delight and amusement. She clearly enjoys the reaction she just pulled out of you. She steals a quick glance at your lips before looking back up at your eyes and holding out one of her hands. Your mind is still whirling from the earlier feeling of having her body so close to yours. You just stare at her outstretched hand. 

“See something you like?” she asks as she wiggles her fingers and turns her hand around and back. Your eyes jump back up to hers. “Yeah. Your yellow card earlier,” you choke out.

“Katie!” someone yells from behind you before Katie can reply. Probably one of her teammates. You can’t be bothered to check. Katie nods at the person before turning back to you. Her hand still outstretched, she reaches for one of yours and shakes it with no help from you.

“Until next time, love, yeah?” With an ever-present smirk, she finally removes her hand from yours and starts to walk away. “Unless ya don’t feel like waiting that long. Up to you,” she winks and joins her teammate (whose identity you’re still unsure of).

You’re pretty sure she just put the ball in your court.

a/n: first fic 👀 hopefully it's not terrible. I have mixed feelings about my first post being for an arsenal player but!!! advice is appreciated. thank you alright bye

[outsideratheart]

By Your Side, Always (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: We’re supercampeones!!! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you like it.

The first 45 minutes of the game you were having fun, the whole team was. Levante knew that Barcelona would make them work but tonight you and the team were putting on a world class performance. They were never a team to give up but with 7 goals scored and them not being able to find the net, they struggled to find hope and accepted their defeat. They were now fighting to keep the score at 7 and it started to get messy. 

It was clear that you had been made a target by Levante’s entire back line. You didn’t care though, you could take it. If anything you welcomed the physically because it meant you were allowed to give them a taste of their own medicine every so often. 

Alexia wished she could be on the pitch with you but she must admit it was fun being in the stand watching you play the way you were. 

“She’s showing off” Mapi said to no one in particular as she watched you dance around their left back even looking back and smirking to her once you sent the ball into the box. 

“She’s unstoppable when she’s like this” your girlfriend says. 

She regretted her choice of words not even a minute later. There were two defenders between you and the goal. You were determined to make it 8. That is until you get taken out by not one but two players. You felt one set of studs go into the outside of the ankle and another set on the inside. You truly had never felt pain like it. 

Alexia heard your outcry of pain and could do nothing but watch as you laid on the floor clutching your ankle. 

“I need you to get up. I need to go to her” Alexia stood to her feet, desperate to be by your side. 

“You can’t go onto the pitch” Mapi slowly got up, careful not to knock her knee. 

Her warning fell on deaf ears and Alexia was already rushing towards the pitch. As expected she was stopped by Jona but she stayed near the sidelines waiting for you. 

“Please get up” Alexia whispers to herself. She began to fear the worst when she sees the physio signal for a stretcher. 

“We both know she’s too stubborn to use it Alexia. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be up” Jona pats his captain’s shoulder in support. 

The coach was right. It took a little longer than Alexia would have like but you are up on your feet. It’s obvious that the injury is bad because you are using the teams physios as crutches so you don’t put any weight on your ankle. 

What is the ultimate telling sign is the way you refuse to meet Alexia’s gaze when you get to the sidelines. Nevertheless she follows you into the tunnel and waits by the door of the medical room. 

“Come with me, please” you have your back towards Alexia but she can hear the pain in your tone. 

“I’m here” 

Alexia sits on a chair beside you as the physio begins examining your ankle. At the first touch you wince and move your foot away which only makes it hurt more. He gives you a couple of minutes to compose yourself but asks to try again. Your arms hide your face as the pain becomes excruciating. The only thing stopping you from breaking completely is the soothing way Alexia is stroking her hand over your thigh. 

“They’re almost done. Try and breathe for me ok?” 

And try you did but you also failed. It was a form of panic and you knew it. 

The physios explain that they think it’s major ligament damage and that they will take you for scans once you’re back in Barcelona.  

“I’m going to give you some space. Alexia, make sure she ices it and try to get her to stay still. Give it ten minutes then she can put the boot on and use the crutches. No weight on it, understand?” 

“They studded my ankle, not my ears. Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here” you sit up quickly. At least now you understood why you needed to keep still. 

Alexia got up as the physio left. She places ice on your ankle as gently as she could before she turned out the lights. She knew that when you were overwhelmed the darkness help calm whatever you were feeling inside. 

“Whatever it is, i’ve got you. I know how you think and how you’re going to want to do this alone but that won’t happen. I won’t let it”

Alexia moves the chair so that it was closer to your head. She places a gentle kiss on the crown on your head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it” 

You turn your head away from her. That hurt Alexia but she knew it was your coping mechanism and once you’ve processed what’s happened you will be more open to talk.

Alexia had just opened her mouth when she heard a door slam and a lot of foul language. 

“That’s Lucy and if she’s in here for the reason I think then I’m going to kill her” 

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes. You weren’t in the mood for this and deep down she knew the reason why the English defender was now in lockeroom even though there is 10 minutes left, maybe less. 

“Y/N I’m coming in” technically it wasn’t a question but still she could have waited for a response. 

“Get out” you growl. 

“Oh did I interrupt something” Lucy gives you both a playful look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot Luce. I know for a fact you didn’t get subbed off because that wasn’t part of the plan so that only leaves one reason” 

“Y/N calm down” alexia begs.  

“I was defending you. They took you out. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it” Lucy met your anger and walked towards you. That was a mistake. 

“Get out!” You stand up and your own weight collapses underneath you. 

“Lucy, please” Alexia begs your England team mate who raises her hands in defeat and leaves you be. 

She then helps you back on the bed. A couple of minutes pass and you hear the final whistle following by the cheers of your team. 

“I’m not going back out. Torre can lift the trophy” 

“Y/N. You’re their captain and you scored a hattrick. It should be you up there” 

“Well I’m not going to be and you can go tell them. Go Alexia” 

She saw the look in your eyes. The look, which in the past, told her that your mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it. 

“Just come out when you’re ready. We don’t let moments pass by without celebrating them. You told me that” before leaving Alexia made sure she turned on the TV so that you could at least watch the trophy ceremony. 

You didn’t like what you just did but you did it anyway. Alexia has had a tough few weeks and she need this, she needed it more than you needed her. 

As instructed Marta lifts the trophy and you feel fine about it. Barcelona has a group of leaders but it just so happens that only one can wear the armband. 

The silence wasn’t comfortable and it started to put you on edge. You saw the boots and crutches by the examination table taunting you.  

Don’t let the moment pass by. 

Alexia watches Marta lift the trophy and then celebrated with the team like they do after every trophy win. She hoped you might have come out by now. 

She is near the centre circle when she hears the crowd errupt. She may have her back to the tunnel but she knows it’s you. 

“I thought you said she wasn’t coming out” Jana asks. 

“No. I said she wasn’t lifting the trophy” Alexia knew you would come out. Due to your slow pace, no thanks to the crutches, Alexia met you half way. 

You let the crutches drop to the floor as you wrap your arms around her neck. 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just —“

“Needed a minute. I know. You’re here now and that’s all that matters” she lets you rest against her as your hands you the crutches. 

“Have you been crying mi amor?” She noticed the tear staines on your cheeks. 

You nod slightly and she can see that something is going on in your head because your eyes begin to well up. Alexia cups your cheek and gently wipes away the stray tear that has fallen. 

“You don’t have to wait until I’m not there to cry Y/N”

“I know” 

Side by side you walk towards your team mates who are all ready to greet you. Bruna is the first one too you, of course she is. 

“Here” she hands you the game ball “I got everyone to sign it for you” 

“Thanks B. You know I’ve got so many of these I’ve lost count. Why don’t you go give it to a fan?” The young forward takes the ball back happily and runs towards a little girl. She makes her turn around so that you can see the fan is wearing you shirt. You send her a little wave and it makes her day. 

“I don’t want to be injured” you stick your bottom lip out causing you girlfriend to chuckle slightly. 

“We’re professional football players, we never want to be injured but sometimes it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it” Alexia was full of wisdom. 

She definetly didn’t feel this way when she got hurt but you decide not reopen old wounds. 

“And these things are stupid” you wave one of your crutches around. 

“Are you going to be complaining everyday until you’re back on the pitch?” 

“Yes Alexia, I am. If you don’t like it then tough because you’re stuck with me” 

“I’m ok with that and I’m ready to return the favour because we both know I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when I got injured” 

“You can say that again. I almost sent you back home to your mothers” you were teasing her and she knew it. You didn’t like being more that 5 feet away from Alexia when she was hurt. 

“We both know if I went back to my mama’s that you would be right behind me” 

You could only nod in agreement. Alexia suggests you do what will be half a lap of the pitch so you can thank you fans. It’s a slow amble but she doesn’t seem to mind. The rest of the team had walked ahead so now it was just you, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid. 

“Does this mean we can do our physio together?” Mapi asks you. 

“No” Alexia and Ingrid say in unison. 

“Why not? We will push each other to get better” 

“And that’s the reason why. You’re too competive, you will make it into a game and we” she points to herself and Alexia “know that it’ll end badly”. 

When you are back at the hotel you are dragged into the celebrations and for the most part you don’t mind it. After a little while you realise that Alexia isn’t around and that is something you do mind. You feel yourself getting more anxious without having her calming presence beside you. 

Then you hear your phone go off. 

Come to you room. Your rehab starts now. 

When you enter your room, Alexia is standing outside the bathroom. 

“I’m going to need you to remove your clothes” Alexia says and your eyes widen. 

“Ok” you pull your shirt off in record time, the shorts however were more of a task. 

“Let me” once the injured leg was free alexia places your crutches aside “rest on me” she tells you. 

She looks up grinning like a devil which makes you shake your head. She always did have half a mind in the gutter when it came to you. 

“Maybe later” she pecks your lips and doesn’t expect for you to pull her back in for something more passionate. 

“Sure, Putellas”

She pretends to act offended at the use of her surname. Alexia then uses her strength to lift you backwards and onto the bed, something she could have done earlier. 

“I’m going to take your boot off. It might hurt” she was so gentle in the way you undid the Velcro straps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” she says when she hears you wince. 

“I’m ok” you reassure her even though you were far from it. 

What happens next came as a shock but a good one. Alexia lifts you up and carries you bridal style towards the bathroom where you are met with a bubble filled bath. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Yes. Although I’m going to be joining you so I guess it’s also for me” 

“Are you now?” You tease. 

Alexia nods her head in excitement with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Your girlfriend helps you in and then lowers herself behind you. With one hand on your thigh and the other one on your abdomen, you allow yourself to relax. As you tilt your head back to rest against Alexia it gives her full access to your exposed neck and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She knows things can’t get too heated so she settles with peppering kisses on your sensitive spots. 

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes cold and your hands like like prunes. 

“You’re strong Y/N, you’ll be ok” Alexia says as she lays in bed with you. You have a movie on and somehow Alexia has gotten some popcorn. 

“I’ll be alright” 

It wasn’t how you expected the night to end. You thought you would be celebrating with your team, jumping for joy and taking advantage of the free champagne. Instead you are in bed, with you leg elevated and ice compressing the injured area. The this one commonality in the current and what come have been; you have Alexia by your side. 

[thekims4]

French Style Lookbook #2

Hair / Skin 1, 2, 3, 4 / Eyebrows / Eyes / Eyelids / Eyeliner / Blush / Lips

Clothing - Top

*Acc Arket Oversized Leather Short Blazer @charonlee

Anya Top @plumbobsnfries

Ari Jacket @serenity-cc

MIUMIU Readytowear - Top @thisiskiro

Kathryn Top @belaloallure3

Estelle Top @juneiceberry-sims

Turtle Neck with MTM @newen092

Clothing - Bottom

Saoirse Skirt @daisy-pixels

Split Mini Skirt by Elliesimple

Clorissa Skirt @belaloallure3

Alaina Belted Pants @belaloallure3

Acc

Button Octagonal Beret @eunosims

Deep Blue Sunglasses @luminescent-cc

Valentino VLogo Signature Squared Acetate Frame @bradfordsims

Shield 2.0 Cat Sunglasses @bergdorfverse

Chalet Necklace @christopher067

Motive Rings @christopher067

Cigarette V2 @onebillionpixels

NEW GIFT BOX 6 - Mini Bag @rimings

Selen Handbag @grafity-cc

Valentino One Stud Nappa Bag @bergdorfverse

Classic Tights @magic-bot

Shoes

Carrie Boots @plumbobsnfries

Chunky Platform Heels 01 @jius-sims

Dusk Diva Boots @madlensims

Half Crease Boots @sunberry-sims

Leather Platform Ankle Boots 04 @jius-sims

Pose

Catsblob @helgatisha Hongzo @katverse @nerinsims @roselipaofficial

[gloomyclauds]

If Dina was a non berry Sim...

This was honestly so much fun 😊 It brought me back to the Berry Reverse series that I used to do on my channel.

Nandina is from my Not So Berry Pastel Rainbowcy gameplay, which mixes both the NSB and the BPR challenges. It brings in so much color, compared to your typical berry challenge. The challenge was created by @sweetlysimss and I can't recommend it enough! Since I'm almost done with the first generation, I'll be sharing the tray files for Dina 💗 And a big thank you to everyone that has been following the challenge!

I might make a lookbook for the boys as well, but no promises 😅

Keep Reading for the FULL CC LIST and the TRAY FILES ⬇️

GENERAL Skin Color | Skinblend | Skintone Set | Skin Detail Blush | Misc. Details | Eye Bags | Cleavage | Teeth | Chubby Cheeks + Lashes V1 + Freckles Dew Drops + Dimple Left Mayumi | Lip Mask | Freckles (Azalea) | Body Freckles | Moles | Tattoo | Nose Stud | Rings | Hairline | Eyebrows (V1)

DEFAULT Eyes | Teeth | Feet | No EA Lashes

SLIDERS Eyebrows (1) (2)

MAKEUP Eyelashes (N1 & N2) | Eyelids | Eyeliner | Blush | Soft Lips | Gloss | Nails

EVERYDAY Hat | Hair | Necklace | Top | Bottom | Socks | Boots

FORMAL Hair | Earrings | Necklace | Dress | Sandals

ATHLETIC Hair | Top | Sweats | Sneakers

SLEEP Hair | Dress // Slippers from the Base Game

PARTY Hair | Earrings | Necklace | Dress | Heels

SWIMWEAR Hair | Swimwear

HOT WEATHER Hair | Earrings | Necklace | Outfit | Lace Up Sandals

COLD WEATHER Hat | Hair | Sweater | Jeans | Ankle Boots

POSES 1st Image | 2nd and 3rd Image (x) (x)

TRAY FILES ✿ SIMFILESHARE ✿ No ads or paywall!

A huge thanks to the cc creators!

@northernsiberiawinds @mousysims @vibrantpixels @glitchsyndrome @okruee

@starshipcap @sims3melancholic @yooniesim @faaeish @sammi-xox

@thepeachyfaerie @polygondolls @c-cerberus-sims-s @pinkishwrld @arethabee

@ceeproductions @rheallsim @twisted-cat @ice-creamforbreakfast @magic-bot

@kijiko-sims @miikocc @obscurus-sims @poyopoyosim @crypticsim

@breezytrait @xurbansimsx @solistair @simstrouble @joliebean

@aharris00britney @jius-sims @aladdin-the-simmer @oakiyo @sentate

@dogsill @tunayegit @clumsyalienn @serenity-cc @caio-cc

@catsblob @ratboysims @loulicorn

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "... the whispers..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game. This confrontation is long overdue and is either going to end in handcuffs or tangled limbs.

part i | this is part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alcohol consumption; things are thrown during a public altercation; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; Jungkook's POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; a few cameos you can speculate on and one named cameo hehe; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

whether I'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back – imgonnagetyouback by taylor swift

It was a night just like any other night, which meant Jeon Jungkook was somewhere doing something because he was someone. On this night he was visiting a new upscale nightclub owned by one of his close friends, which was why he was at a table surrounded by his bros, expensive bottles of alcohol, and beautiful women. Not his scene, really. He was an introvert at heart. Despite that, he had obligations to be here. Obligations to laugh, to jest, to be merry, to be somebody.

But he knew he was just a somebody surrounded by much better bodies.

So, really, he was only a ghost.

“Hey, isn’t that…?”

It was luck and good friends that got him in the position he was in now. Jungkook knew that. He couldn’t complain too much when they invited him out. After all, they were only doing it because they cared about him. Yeah.

“She's really staring at you, man.”

Someone nudged his arm. For a moment, he didn’t comprehend that it was him that was being spoken to. Maybe it was the heavy black leather jacket. Underneath, he wore a tight white tank, and completed his outfit with studded charcoal-wash jeans and black leather boots. Nice, sure, but there were other men that much more sharply dressed with bigger designer labels. Of course, he cleaned up well with his slicked-back black hair and clean-shaven jawline. So did any other male model out there. He was not so egotistical to think he was the most interesting man there.

“Hmph, who?” he snickered, swinging around in his chair with the ice in his glass clinking. He would figure out who everyone was talking about from the reactions of the public. He snapped his head around, stray tendrils of black falling free onto his forehead, obscuring his vision for a split second, and then he faced the crowd beneath the VIP tables.

Time slowed.

The club was loud. Very loud, due to the deafening combination of music, chatter and laughter. It was lit with the imperfect balance of light and dark, oscillating spotlights exposing corners and weaving through moving bodies clad in fitted dresses, high heels, tailored blazers, suit pants. The alcohol was high-grade. The crowd was cherry-picked and pre-screened at the door. It was what it was. Individuals who had money blowing money, ignoring the sins around them to commit their own. It was hard to pick out someone.

But Jungkook saw her right away.

The club became quiet from his point of view. Sound became a mishmash of muffled, incoherent noises fading to the background as the faces blurred. The music dulled. All lights dimmed except in one area. Everything was still moving, still thriving, still breathing yet he was only aware of one single person.

His ex-girlfriend stared right at him from below.

Even from this distance he could feel the blades in her gaze.

Black patent leather jacket. Very short, cut just under the breasts. Black lace corset, see-through except for the cups. Skintight lilac miniskirt. Legs for days. Pointed-toe black pumps with a thin ankle strap, the kind he had trouble with due to the small delicate buckle.

He tried to breathe but the air was like concrete in his lungs.

She tilted her head, narrowing her smoked-out eyes. Her lips were glossy crimson, cool-toned to match the palette of her outfit. Her hair had been pinned up, exposing her graceful neck and glimmering collarbones.

She began to walk through the crowd.

Jungkook spun around and suddenly all the sound roared back, intense and thunderingly hostile. He winced, clutching his drink and holding the side of his head, trying to make sense of it all.

“Tch, why is she here?”

“Right? She doesn’t belong here.”

“She can be wherever she wants to be,” replied a calm, deep voice.

He could hear voices around him talking but it wasn’t making any sense. How? Why? Was he seeing things? And why did it matter? It didn’t. It didn’t. He took another sip of his glass and found it bitter and tasteless. Maybe that was in his head too. It didn’t matter if she was here. Someone was tugging on his arm. He pulled himself free, snapping his hand down onto the table.

The world crashed back into place as his drink sloshed and spat out from his force.

A startled feminine gasp.

The calm, deep voice returned. “You okay, man?”

Jungkook jerked his head up and saw Kim Taehyung carefully surveying him. He was a man with strong, masculine features and a comforting baritone voice that reminded one of cozy winters and romantic nights. Out of all his friends, they were the closest in age. However, Taehyung was more than a year older and a much more seasoned veteran of the modeling industry. He had been scouted at a very young age, quickly learning the ins-and-outs without losing who he was. He was grounded, easygoing, and never had a crack in his composure. At least, that was how Jungkook thought of him.

Taehyung raised a dark eyebrow, repeating his question without saying a word.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook scowled, then controlled his face a bit better. “What?”

Those dark, moody eyes served him a dose of silent judgement as one of the girls at the table spoke up again.

“Oooh, she’s sitting down at a table.”

He told himself not to look. It didn’t matter if she was here. And yet his head moved on its own, pivoting to the left so fast he almost had whiplash. At high-end clubs like this, there were tables available depending on to how much a patron spent. The larger tables had to be paid for in advance to be secured a space. Such reservations were violently expensive, signaling VIP status. A lot of the smaller tables on the lower level were occupied. The more exclusive tables were higher up, needing stairs to access the higher tiers. A waiter was holding her hand, carefully guiding his ex-girlfriend up the stairs to an empty round table that typically seated ten.

There was no one else at the table.

She sat down at the seat closest to overlooking the club.

“She can afford that?”

A crackling laugh. “Doubt it.”

“Who are you to say what she can’t afford?” Taehyung cut in sharply in a disapproving tone.

“O-Oh, well… It’s just not that common, you know.”

The chittering was from the women they had invited to the table earlier. Shit, their presence seemed so frivolous and annoying now. Jungkook had half a mind to turn around and glare at them. Instead, he was transfixed by the woman in patent leather and tight lilac. She crossed her legs, smoothed her skirt, and leaned back in her chair, scanning the crowd. A waiter came back and brought a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle and accompanying flutes. A waitress came by with another bottle. Porcelain, with painted flue floral design, and placed two crystal glasses onto the table. His former lover smiled at them, nodding. They bowed and took their leave after serving her.

Instead of touching the drinks, the woman turned her body and locked her icy stare right on him.

Jungkook stiffened and turned away quickly, feeling his body running hot. The table was still talking, but it was behind hands and feigned disinterest. Taehyung sighed, shaking his head. Of course, there had been other friends at the table too. Only now did Jungkook notice that they were missing. Must have wandered off. At the very least, their host Kim Seokjin would definitely be gone for a while. He was an affluent actor, model, and owner of several establishments, including this luxury nightclub. Eventually the tall, broad-shouldered man would return to see them off, but there was no telling when.

“Did you know she was gonna be here?” Jungkook hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the women. They still lingered for the free drinks which Taehyung kept supplied. No sense in wasting Seokjin’s endless tab after all.

Taehyung frowned. “I don’t police people’s actions. Does it matter what she does?”

Jungkook scoffed. “Oh, so this wasn’t your idea?”

Those normally warm brown eyes turned cold. “It wasn’t. Besides, she’s no longer your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely not.”

A growl collected in Jungkook’s throat and he was about to let it loose. He swiveled his head again only for the sound to die before it began. A man was standing by her table. He was sharply dressed in a suit and tie, with tied-back bleached-blond hair that laid over his shoulders. He had a pleasant decorum and a smile like a predatory feline. She gestured him to sit down and poured him a drink as invitation. He watched in horror as his ex-girlfriend chatted up a beautiful stranger.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or run over there to flip the table.

A low voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wasn’t the breakup amicable?”

He froze.

Slowly, Jungkook faced Taehyung, his long-time friend. He never really could bring himself to fully lie to those piercing dark orbs, now reflecting the same reserved gaze that Taehyung had given him when Jungkook provided the same flimsy excuse he was once again repeating.

“I… It wasn’t meant to be,” Jungkook mumbled once more. “The traveling… it was too much for us.”

The older male was too good at reading between the lines, especially when it came to romance, his forte. “Hm.” He knew when he wasn’t getting the full story. “It’s probably too late to ask now, but was it what you wanted?”

Jungkook couldn’t help it.

“It was…”

He looked over his shoulder again.

“… What I deserved.”

She was thanking the blond-haired man. He bowed ninety degrees and leaned in, whispering something in her ear before leaving the table. His glass was empty. Someone else was approaching the table. A pretty woman with long black hair in a white minidress and short, pearl-white nails sat down, bowing lightly and introducing herself. His ex-girlfriend offered between the two drinks and the pretty woman chose the champagne. A waiter came over to uncork it for them, pouring a healthy amount into the two flutes.

They two chatted, immediately absorbed with each other.

“For a guy naturally talented at a lot of things, you’re such a stupid idiot.”

He was.

Wait.

Jungkook scowled, turning back to a disapproving Taehyung cradling a small ceramic cup. It was hand-painted with the smallest of brushstrokes, depicting a flock of black birds disappearing into the white sky. He took a sip with a gruff sigh, making a tense face. He was a wine guy, but he couldn’t turn down traditional Korean alcohol. That would be uncouth.

“How long are you going to continue moping?” Taehyung scoffed.

“I’m not moping,” Jungkook countered, hunched over the table and gripping his whiskey glass a little too hard.

“You are convincing no one. Least of all me.”

His eyes flickered upward, glaring. Taehyung remained refined, unperturbed, nearly prince-like in his half-open floral-and-forest-green silk shirt and ruffled hair. A black-brown curl perfectly grazed one of his eyebrows, accenting his condescending look with a dash of softness.

“Did you ever realize how much she did for you?”

Jungkook pushed away his glass. He couldn’t reply. He stuck his tongue in his cheek, trying not to feel. It was only then that he noticed that the table was strangely silent despite the fervor of the environment – the women had made themselves scarce, understanding that this conversation was much too serious for their girlypop night.

Finally, he forced himself to speak. “For me? I take care of myself.”

Taehyung winced. Hard. “You cannot be serious right now.”

Another peek behind him. A different man at her table now. Silvery-blonde hair, tan skin, muscular like a godly titan. She caught him looking and stared directly back. Jungkook cursed under his breath. “What did she do then? Hm? Enlighten me.” His voice was becoming rougher, slipping out of his practiced Seoul dialect and into his Busan dialect. The broad-shouldered man at the table had no suit jacket. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up. He must have noticed her lack of attention, because he began to turn around as well.

Jungkook jerked away before they could lock eyes too.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Taehyung exhaled, not quite annoyed but getting there. “But I know you were the one that was wrong.”

Yeah, right.

“Never once did she complain about you. Never once did she butt into your business and cause you trouble when she could have. Never once did she talk behind your back when we both know damn well that you’re no saint, Jeon Jungkook.”

His tattooed hand against the table balled up into a fist, the familiar ache in his chest splitting, threatening.

Unintimidated, Taehyung continued. “The travelling was rough? Of course, it is. And there are probably a thousand ways to make it up to someone you love, but instead now I’m looking at you sitting here and her sitting there, pretending to be strangers. Tells me a whole lot about how that worked out.” His natural Daegu satoori was becoming more evident during his tirade. Taehyung wasn’t trying to be polite, though.

“You don’t know anything,” Jungkook retorted.

“I don’t.” Those dark brown eyes burned hot, scrutinizing him and tearing him apart. “And I don’t need to. Your hostility is telling me everything.”

“It was you,” Jungkook snapped, slamming his fist onto the table. “You invited her here.”

Taehyung’s low voice became lower, more accusatory. “Go ahead. Keep deflecting. Run back home and hide. That’s what you want to do, right?” His gaze narrowed and Taehyung’s normally friendly warmth morphed into scalding heat. “You heard what they said. She doesn’t belong here. And yet, here she is. They all talked and gossiped and badmouthed her, right to your face even, and yet you said nothing. You still don’t have the fucking balls, man. You didn’t respect her for all she was. In spite of that, she stood beside you, head held high, until you tossed her away. You brought her into this world, you ripped her out of it, and guess what? She is here. She holds her own. You deluded yourself into thinking she needed you. But she doesn’t, and it’s the other way around.”

Jungkook shot up out of his seat, nearly knocking the chair over. He was breathing hard, his furious anger so violent that it clawed at his insides, and Taehyung tilted his head, mirroring the expression of an adult tiger observing a foolish cub.

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook gritted out between clenched teeth. “You’re fucking wrong.”

He… No. She did this. This was her fault. She was the one that always pushed him to go for what he wanted. She was the one who always helped him make it work. Last minute changes happened often early in his career and she always smiled at him and told him to go, to run, to chase those adventures. And she always waited for him to come home.

“I wasn’t like that.”

In the middle of dinners for two. In vacations cut short. In forgotten special dates. Go. She always waited for him to come home. He couldn’t be blamed for that. Those were all her own decisions. He just had to do what he had to do, didn’t he? He couldn’t be blamed for doing what he thought was best. He couldn’t be blamed for trying his best. This dull ache created from a thousand cuts was not made from his own hand.

Right?

“You’re hopeless.” Taehyung slumped back in his chair and sighed. “Do as you wish.”

He wasn’t the person Taehyung was saying he was.

If he was, then…

No.

Jungkook whipped around and locked his eyes to the table, walking determinedly up to it.

There was a different man sitting there now. A very tall one with very short hair, violate energy, and a striking profile, deeply engaged in conversation with his ex-girlfriend. Currently laughing bashfully at something she must have said. The stranger was wearing a crisp black dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and well-tailored black slacks. Jungkook wanted to punch him in his very handsome face. He didn’t care that the man’s shoulders and arms were so built that they were nearly bursting the seams of his dress shirt, nor did he care that starting a fight right now would do absolutely nothing except get him thrown out in handcuffs.

Jungkook wanted to kill him.

Her eyes took a moment to shift from the very handsome stranger to him.

It hurt.

It really fucking hurt.

He glared back. Her gaze was not as heated, nor did it hold the same ice she had during their last conversation way back then. There was a completely different mix of emotions conveyed now. Almost disconnected, lonely, and loathing all at once, the last not directed at him but at herself.

As if she didn’t want to care but did and hated herself for it.

It wasn’t who she was at all, and Jungkook hated himself for doing this to her.

“Dude, I’m going to need you to get lost.”

Startled, the seated man turned his head to see Jungkook giving him a death stare. He hated seeing the puppy-like expression on such a masculine-looking man, not because he looked down on that but because it was a genuine, adorable reaction that couldn’t be faked.

She probably liked that.

She probably deserved that.

Jungkook was determined to ruin this too. Why the fuck not?

The man looked confused, and then irritated. “Uh… Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t think you belong here.” He had a commanding, stern tone. He shifted in his seat, halfway to rising. “This conversation doesn’t include you.”

“No, this conversation doesn’t include you,” Jungkook snapped, glancing at her. His ex-girlfriend did nothing but raise an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Fuck off.”

The man in the black dress shirt began to stand, brows furrowing. “Hey, I’m going to have to ask you to leave–”

“Excuse me.”

She stood up.

From this distance, Jungkook could fully take in how the smoke-grey eyeshadow accentuated the shape of her eyes, making them more prominent and intense. The lights caught the glow of her skin and the vividness of the scarlet of her lips, giving her an ethereal, untouchable demeanor. Loose layers of her hair framed her face despite the majority of it being pinned up, casting cold, dark shadows around the hot radiance of her gaze.

“I’m sorry to cut our conversation short, but I think it’s best if you give us a moment,” she said politely to the tall stranger while bowing. “I was enchanted to meet you tonight, Kim Mingyu.”

A pink flush dusted over the man’s cheeks. This motherfucker had the audacity to be flustered. Jungkook still wanted to punch him in the face. Maybe more now than before.

“O… Oh… Um. Alright.” He glanced between Jungkook and her. “Will you be okay?”

She smiled, maintaining confident eye contact with the stranger. “Let’s not assume the worst of people. And… Your words have given me courage. I thank you.”

It took everything in Jungkook not to trip the guy on his very expensive designer shoes as he hastily bowed and took his leave, offering an awkward half-wave before backing away. She raised a hand back, not looking away even when he turned around.

And then.

Quiet.

At least as quiet as a loud nightclub could be. But it all became background noise in the face of loaded silence. The safety off now. The bass faded into heartbeats as she raised her eyes and, once again, they faced each other across the table. Jungkook stood with his hands balled up into fists in the pockets of his leather jacket. His former lover stood with her hands in front of her. She was still the most beautiful, graceful, and collected woman that he had ever had the pleasure to know.

“I’m…”

And he missed her so, so much.

“I’m sorry.”

So fucking much.

Her eyes flickered down in a pause, and then back up. “It really doesn’t matter anymore. The past is in the past.”

Her name on his lips felt foreign and familiar all at once. She didn’t react. It was as if he had said nothing at all. He said it again, almost with an edge of panic, and she closed her eyes, breathing in slowly. He wanted to run to the other side. He wanted to climb on top of the table and grab her hands and tell her it was going to be okay, that he was going to be better, that she was the love of his life and that he could be hers too, please, if only he had a chance. Instead, he stayed where he was, frozen in place, trying not to do the wrong thing even though everything about this scene and script was all wrong.

Her eyes opened in a resigned, resolute flutter.

“Do you think saying sorry takes back everything you’ve done?” she asked in a measured tone.

He pulled his hands out of his jacket, shaking his head. “No. No, of course not. I… You didn’t give me a chance to apologize, and I–”

“Apologize for what?” she coldly interrupted.

“W-Well… For… everything, really.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know.”

Jungkook blinked hard, trying to banish his tears. “Know?” he echoed.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” Her words were sharpened steel, cutting right through him.

“I do,” he insisted. “For all the times I left during dinner, for all the times I’ve left during our scheduled time together, for forgetting your birthday, anniversary–”

“For the blatant disrespect,” she interrupted, her hands separating, those intense eyes narrowing. “For always believing I could fend for myself when you got swept up during work events. For contacting me not to talk about my day, but to interrogate me on what I was doing. For not believing me and asking me to send photos every time I was out somewhere.”

He sputtered, taken aback. “That wasn’t… Those things–”

“For always knowing I understood your position and taking it for granted.” Her glare was like daggers, cutting through all the lies he told himself. “And yet never understanding mine. Never believing in the love I had for you.”

“I did believe!”

“And so you accused me of lying?” she shot back, scathing him. “I have never done anything to make you believe I was disloyal to you, but I was five minutes late to a date and suddenly I need to be lying? Suddenly that was a sign of my nefarious plans? Suddenly I’m the bad guy that needs to be backed into a corner? Suddenly I must beg on my knees to soothe your feelings?”

“I didn’t ask for that,” he retorted. “I just asked why you didn’t text that you were late.”

“I don’t need to repeat what I said then,” she growled, bristling. She had been five minutes late because of an elderly taxi driver taking his time. “Because it didn’t matter what the reason was for you. I know that now. You were scared. You were insecure. You were nervous that I was beginning to fall out of love with you. You latched onto the first thing I did wrong and blew it out of proportion to force me to grovel to you. You could have asked me directly how I felt. Instead, you decided to play fucking games.”

Jungkook couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

Her hands balled up into fists by her sides. “I was patient. I was understanding. I loved you.” She dug her nails into her palms, clenching her jaw. “But I was not going to let myself be manipulated by your insecurities. I was not about to lose myself to become an extension of you, Jeon Jungkook.”

Past tense.

“You… loved me?”

She might as well have stabbed him right through the heart.

A thundering pause.

Finally, she sighed. Her hands relaxed.

“When I came in here, I didn’t know if I wanted to run to you or slap you.”

She looked around, down at the crowd, up to the lights, to the bar, the tables, the people.

“Before you, all I had was a decent job. Not exciting, but good enough to enjoy the life I wanted. I had loose acquaintances and once-in-a-blue-moon friends. I had mediocre hobbies that I was okay at. Before you, that had been enough. This,” she breathed, indicating the people and the money being flaunted around like water during a rainstorm. “I didn’t know this. I didn’t know how lonely it was to be standing this high. I didn’t know… My acquaintances and few friends saw the life you gave me and faded away, no longer relating to the extravagance I was exposed to. My job became a forbidden topic for the mere crime that it was boring. My hobbies became childish to these refined eyes. Yet… I could live with all that. The life I wanted was the one I had with you. And… it turned out to be miserable.”

For the first time, Jungkook realized how much she lost loving him.

“I was miserable.”

She half-laughed, empty.

“But I loved you.”

Lowered her head.

“And I was so, so damn angry with you.”

She smacked the table with her palm, hard enough to make the people around them flash them a startled look. Her fingers tensed, cherry-red manicure flaring over the wood.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” This was the part Jungkook didn’t understand. His voice rose in both frustration and desperation. “Why didn’t you just blow up on me? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what?” she snarled, snapping her head up, each word a bullet tearing through him. “Huh? No, don’t go? How dare you leave me, again? Create the war wounds right before we part? What good does all that do? Make us both upset right before you run off? Because you would anyway. You know you would, because you are stubborn and selfish and always doing what you need to do, putting me at the bottom of the list since I am capable… right? I can handle myself, right?”

He was rounding the table, knocking chairs aside. “You could have been angry at me. You just didn’t want to be!”

“Who wants to be angry? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“What, you were worried that you would no longer be the perfect girlfriend if you weren’t understanding?” he accused.

She looked livid. “Don’t you dare flip my consideration onto me.”

He stopped right in front of her, tension all over his neck and jaw. “It’s your fault too. I can’t change if you act like everything is fine!”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? I have to be the one to teach you not to be a fucking selfish prick and think about someone else for a change?” she hissed.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Of course, you know!”

They were beginning to draw whispers and stunned faces but neither of them was backing down or ashamed enough. Or, perhaps, they were simply completely unaware of the disruption they were causing.

“You knew – no, you still know,” she snarled, jabbing him in the chest with a impeccably manicured finger. “You have never felt like you fit in with these people. That was why you tried so hard. That was why you took every opportunity to be a lapdog. That was why you dated me, because I am not privileged and enabled, that’s why you dragged me into your world and got paranoid when I wasn’t showing the same apprehensions as you, putting me in impossible positions and playing games, when we could have been teamed up against the world, when we could have been yin and yang, but all we were was a pair of damn cowards!”

His eyes went wide.

Fury laced in her helpless expression.

“You could have protected me. All you did was make me throw myself to the wolves to protect you!”

Her hands slammed into his chest and she shoved him, hard. He stumbled back, throwing his right arm out, knocking over a champagne flute and shattering it. Glass exploded onto the floor, delicate shards shooting out and catching the light, scattering into dust beneath designer feet.

People gasped and someone screamed at the unexpected noise.

His left hand reached out and gripped the patent leather sleeve of her jacket. Their gazes locked in shock and comprehension. His lips parted. One of his knees was still bent to steady himself from falling. But before Jungkook could say anything, she squeezed her eyes shut, breaking their connection, and ripped her arm from his grasp.

Then she seized the porcelain bottle with painted blue flowers and threw it onto the floor, shattering that too.

One moment of awful, dazed silence.

The next moment, men in security uniforms swiftly and silently crossed the distance and surrounded them. He was being grabbed and pinned down to the table, metal handcuffs clicked onto his wrists behind his back despite his protests. His jaw dropped when one of the men touched her shoulder and she immediately turned around and slapped him. Instantly, she too was firmly pushed down and also restrained, both of them staring at each other over the surface of the wood, their previously well-styled hair in disarray all over their faces, their eyes wide with the realization of the severity of their public argument.

He couldn’t help but think she looked fucking hot.

Something flickered in her eyes. She recognized his exact thought from their shared look. And his ex-girlfriend burst out laughing at this absurd situation, even as security hoisted them up and dragged them down the stairs. So, fuck it. He couldn’t help it either.

Jungkook started laughing too.

-

“This is your fault, by the way.”

“Feel free to add it to the list of shit I’ve done wrong.”

They were still handcuffed. Both standing a respectful distance away  from each other in the middle of a storeroom crammed with boxes stacked like a cardboard maze. There were no windows. The door was closed and presumably locked. Neither of them had moved towards it. There would be no criminal undercover going on here. They were already in deep enough shit. Adding attempted escape would probably change their current storeroom location into separate jail cells for the night.

They did not look at each other.

Jungkook leaned against the boxes, his hands stuck behind his back. One of the sides of his leather jacket had slipped down, exposing his right shoulder. It was nice, actually, since the previous scuffle had left him rather hot-blooded. He snuck a glance beside him.

His ex-girlfriend’s body was facing the door. The backs of her hands rested on the prominent curve of her ass in that tight lilac skirt, her straight posture making her waist look even smaller. Must be nice to have a built-in shelf. His eye line travelled up to her hair, seeing it half-undone and falling down her neck. Half of the pins were still holding up by sheer luck. The patent leather of her jacket crackled as she adjusted, stretching out her ankle. She was still in her high heels.

“Uncomfortable?” he found himself quietly asking.

“Could be worse,” she answered back, still not turning around.

He waited for her to elaborate.

She didn’t.

The silence was palpable. Somehow not unbearable. He looked back down at his feet, wondering why they had been left here. He half-expected security to escort them off the premises and into a police car, but they had marched them behind the kitchen and told them to stay put and not cause trouble, similarly to how misbehaving kids were put in time-out. Then again, the owner of the club was his affluent friend Kim Seokjin. Perhaps this was a rich people thing. Or an under-the-table thing.

Her voice echoed in his head.

You have never felt like you fit in with these people.

“Hey, uh…” he started, trailing off.

A light sigh.

Then, she shook her head, somewhat vigorously. Some of the hairpins loosened up. “Ugh, my hair is more annoying than anything,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s all messed up.”

Hell yeah, it was, and it was a turn-on, reminding him of after-sex tousling. Jungkook kept his mouth shut. Not the right time for that. He chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he could do anything. Wondering if he should do anything. She still hadn’t turned around.

So, he did.

He turned around, bent down slightly, and tried to reach up. The angle was difficult. Not high enough either. His leather sleeves were also constricting his movement and making loud creaking sounds. He looked back, trying to reach up with a grunt, and she stiffened, swinging her head around. He froze in an awkward position. She stared at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked back. “Um… I… I was trying to help…?”

Her eyebrow raised. “By… doing yoga?”

He let out an impatient huff. “No, I’m trying to help you take the pins out of your hair,” Jungkook clarified, straightening with a frustrated shake of his body. “It’s bothering you, isn’t it? But I’m not flexible enough and you’re too tall in your heels.”

She paused. He looked away, feeling somewhat embarrassed for even trying. Who was he to think that he could do something like that? Hah. His hands tightened behind him. They weren’t close like that anymore. They weren’t even friends.

He felt a sting in his heart remembering that.

“Sorry… I should have asked if you wanted the help at all.”

He exhaled heavily.

Stillness.

Then he heard the crack of patent leather and raised his head to see her squat down, lowering one knee to the concrete floor, her back perfectly straight and her head at his waist height. She was facing the door again so he couldn’t see her expression.

“If… Well, it would be helpful if you could… If you could remove the hairpins,” she mumbled, keeping her head up. “Please.”

He gawked at her kneeled form, unmoving.

His heartbeat accelerated.

“Um… if you’re going to do it, faster would be better,” she added hesitantly with placed-in chuckle. “I don’t know how long I can keep my balance in these shoes.”

His cheeks burned. “Uh, yeah, s-sorry. I’m on it.”

The metal handcuffs clinked as he moved. He turned around and backed up a bit, reaching out to feel for her hair. Sucked in a quiet breath as his fingers grazed the soft strands, memories of stolen nights drifting back to him. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, using touch to search for the hairpins, and then loosening them as gently as he could. One by one. He tried to tuck them in his palm as he continued. Sometimes he would need to rest one hand on her head and use the other to pull them out slowly and carefully. She said nothing, tilting her head slightly as he made his way around. He felt his way along her scalp, running his fingers through her hair, remembering the familiar scent he could detect when he used to breathe it in, remembering his hands holding her head as he used to lean in and kiss her, remembering that he had lost all of that now.

Jungkook lowered his chin, letting out a soundless cry.

“You liked my hair down, I recall,” she commented behind him, her soothing voice mirroring the rolling tide late at night.

“Y… Yeah.”

He smiled despite himself. He pulled back his handcuffed hands.

“You have lovely hair. I don’t like seeing it all tucked away.”

For a moment, there was a quietness as those words sank in. She shifted, and he heard her stand up, the sharp click of her heels indicating as much, but he kept his back to her, unsure if this was the last time he would touch her hair. The last time he hadn’t known it would be the last, so he didn’t mourn the moment until way later, but this time…

“Thank you.”

He breathed in through his nose. Oddly stuffy in here.

“Y… You’re welcome.”

He wished he could take it all back, but he couldn’t. He wished he could prove he was a better man, but he didn’t know how or even if he could. She was right. He had gotten swept up in his ambitions and the superficial relationships. He had been afraid. He had let that fear control him because he had felt out of sorts with who he was, who he was becoming, and who he wanted to be.

“I really… I really am sorry.”

They were back-to-back. Not touching. Just close enough to feel each other’s presence without seeing them. Hands behind their backs, staring in opposite directions but finally seeing the path before them.

“I know.”

She let out a soft breath.

“I wished for the way I felt to change once I could accept your apologies, but,” she whispered. “Life isn’t that simple or clear cut.”

His chest ached. “Yeah.” It didn’t matter if his actions had unintentional consequences. The consequences still existed. “You’re right. About it all. About the person I became and how I treated you because of it. About how this was because of me feeling like I don’t fit in.”

She didn’t say anything, yet Jungkook could sense her acknowledgment. He couldn’t really explain why he knew. Maybe it had something to do with their current circumstances.

“I keep trying and I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m too simple-minded. Maybe I can’t understand the world these people live in. I mean, my friends seem like normal people but there are still moments where I catch myself thinking, I wouldn’t have thought to do or say that. I feel so… disconnected, sometimes. Meaningless. Maybe I’m not worth a damn to them.”

He was rambling, slipping between his refined dialect and his Busan satoori. He caught himself, about to correct his wording.

“You don’t have to be like the people around you to fit in,” she chided.

He stopped trying to form a sentence and listened.

“You don’t listen. That has always been your strength. Your charm is your natural character with the added spice of rebellion.” Her chuckle lightened, making his heart tighten and feel like exploding at the same time. “Your talent has always been bravely walking your own path, confusing as it may be. There is a pureness in that. You have friends because they want to protect that part of you. Haven’t you noticed? Your friends have never asked you to change or be like them. They just accept you for how you are and push away people who try to mold you into their vision.”

His friends? Well, true, they were the main reasons for him getting the jobs he got. He had always felt somewhat inadequate, realizing his success was from seniors in the industry helping him out. They all told him that this was how it worked. They all told him to do well so he could get more opportunities. It was part of the reason that he felt that he couldn’t let those connections down. He had always felt that he couldn’t refuse.

“Your friends have always been on your side. They don’t want you to be like them. They want you to stay as you are. You mean that much to those around you.”

But perhaps he had been wrong all along.

“Only you thought you needed to change.”

There was probably a lot of sound outside, but the distracting racket was inaudible from the distant storeroom. Her quiet voice amplified her words in this slice of stillness. There something stricken and bitter haunting the air between them as the revelation settled.

He clutched her hairpins in his fist.

“I didn’t… I didn’t date you just because you weren’t part of this vapid world I’m in.”

He wanted her to know.

“I wish…”

The tears stung the corners of his eyes. He refused to let them go. Jungkook looked up to the ceiling, taking in each breath as steadily as he could. He felt like he was drowning, except instead of water, it was all the things he never said.

“I wish I could have been strong enough for you to be angry at me sooner. Tonight, I realized… It was my own shortcomings that made you stay quiet.” He chuckled dryly in admiration. “You endured more than I ever could. More than anyone should.” He didn’t know if he was making any sense but he kept on going. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so mad. That was the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you. You must have spent a lot of nights… feeling so alone because of my selfishness.”

This was not a romantic setting at all. They were stuck in a storeroom with no windows, surrounded by boxes, handcuffed for being a public disruption, for being too dramatic and too emotional. Neither of them could look at the other. A disaster in every sense of the world.

But.

Maybe this was the most honest moment they had ever shared.

Her laugh simmered behind him.

“I’m sorry for losing my shit.”

He half-smiled in rueful relief.

“It wasn’t so bad. Low-key kinda hot. I almost lost the plot at times.”

She laughed under her breath. “You don’t mean that.”

A single heartbeat of silence.

“I kinda do,” he admitted, feeling the upturned corners of his lips falter.

It became quiet once more. An embarrassed quiet, but maybe only on his side. Jungkook still couldn’t bring himself to turn around and find out. He shifted awkwardly, realizing he was still holding her hairpins in his hand. Uh. Well, he couldn’t exactly ask her to put them in her pocket. Did she even have any pockets with that outfit? He furrowed his brows, thinking about that tight skirt and lace corset. Doubtful there would be any pockets in such fitted clothing. Maybe in her jacket, but it was so short that he would basically have to reach for her tits to…

His face heated slightly realizing that he was heavily focusing on her body right now.

Click.

He didn’t really register the sound behind him at first. It sounded like something falling onto the concrete. There was another sharp tapping sound, but before he could shift and twist his body to see, he felt her fingertips brush against the knuckles of his fist.

“I’m sorry too.”

He was too shocked to even move or react. Just stood there wide-eyed, struck by the lightning of her touch, realizing they were that close and that it was her who initiated that.

“I should have brought up the little things that bothered me. I shouldn’t have let it snowball simply because I thought it would make your life easier. I should have tried to remind you not to be intimidated by those around you,” she sighed heavily. “And I should have believed in your apology more than I did.”

The pads of her fingertips stilled.

One by one, they lost contact.

Jungkook dropped all the hairpins on the floor in a cascade of metal raindrops.

He reached back and grabbed her hand, gripping her fingers tightly, gasping as he felt her cool skin against his warmth. He felt her initial rise of reluctance, however, she did not pull away. Their handcuffs clinked against each other, the chains colliding. He scrambled to reach a little higher. Grasping her hand in his. Her right in his right. He tried to say something. Something romantic, something reassuring, something self-derogatory even.

But nothing come out.

He tried to breathe and was choked by inner tears. Tried again, shaking, trying to be silent. Her fingers curled around the back of his hand and laid there. She gave him a light squeeze.

“Don’t worry.”

Her calming voice a dream on this night.

“I’m here.”

They held hands.

It must have been only for a short while. It felt like forever packed in minutes. He inhaled deeply, catching fleeting traces of her sweet and sultry perfume. Closed his eyes with an exhale. Another inhale, slower this time. Maybe this was futile. Maybe this was objectively wildly inappropriate. Maybe he was the fucking worst, wishing, hoping they could reset to something new. All of this could crash and burn.

Or.

Or, maybe.

He swallowed tightly. Leaned back just a little. Their shoulder blades touched. A moment of suspended anticipation. She leaned back against him. The backs of their heads didn’t yet touch. He felt her hair on his neck. It was only the tops of their backs that touched, but now there was only centimeters of trembling air between them.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice rough and nervous.

“Only a little.” Her thumb brushed against the side of his palm. “I’ll be alright.”

Yeah, he knew that. “You’re the most capable person I know.”

She sighed. “It’s not all sunshine and roses.”

He scrunched up his face in search for the words. “Well… You suit moonlight and thorns more.”

She nearly snorted. He felt her shoulders shake in silent laughter. He winced, thinking he said something wrong.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I like those better, anyway!” He blurted it out quickly. Maybe too quickly, curling a bit in on himself once he realized what he said, cringing, but she tugged on his hand ever so slightly. It was obvious she was shaking her head from her hair swishing over his neck.

“You always had a thirst for danger, Jungkook.”

Her tone was slight and playful. He felt his cheeks burn and his heart race so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe from the pressure. Nearly stuttered when he heard his name in her voice, clenching his jaw shut so he didn’t make a fool of himself. Again. His entire body tensed, on edge and vibrating from the rush of emotions.

“Are you trying to break my hand?”

He was gripping her hand way too tight. “S-Sorry!” He loosened his stiff fingers, twisting his wrist to keep his hand cupped around hers. “Sorry…”

“Heh, it’s not like you to apologize,” she teased.

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Hey...”

Her head laid against his shoulder.

He stilled, heartbeat pounding. She looked up at the ceiling. At least, he presumed that from the angle. The back of her head touched his left shoulder, just barely. Her hair spilled against his collarbone and back, messy and free.

“I bet you have somebody. You’re too good-looking to have nobody lined up.”

Her murmur was soft and resigned. Guilty.

Her words hung in the air.

He tipped his head back, the nape of his neck against her shoulder. The patent leather of her jacket squeaked loudly under his presence. He wished. He hoped. He…

“I have someone,” he confessed.

He squeezed her hand. Their faces tilted upwards to the ceiling, and still Jungkook could recall every detail of her eyes – the way they glimmered when she smiled, the way they sparked when she was serious, the way they twinkled during all their special moments, the way they hollowed out when she turned away from him.

His fingers gently separated hers, interlocking.

The words were at the tip of his tongue.

His lips parted.

Suddenly there were loud footsteps on the other side of the heavy wood door. His ex-girlfriend jerked up in alarm. Jungkook stumbled. Both of them quickly sprang away from each other as the noisy jangle of keys was heard and then the heavy door swung open, revealing the two of them standing there, tense, now staring wide-eyed at a tall, broad-shouldered man flanked by two security guards. His black hair was perfectly parted, half brushing against his forehead and half combed back, giving a corporate feel in his tailored black suit. He was strikingly handsome by all accounts. Intense dark brown eyes, sculpted brows, full lips, stunning jawline.

Kim Seokjin wore an exasperated, annoyed expression.

He ticked his head to Jeon Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend.

“You. Come with me.”

She hesitated for a second and stepped forward, hanging her head a bit. “I sincerely apologize for the trouble I’ve caused.”

It would be expected for such a stern, posh-looking man to be harsh. Instead, Seokjin stuck his fists by his waist and sighed loudly, similarly to a disappointed grandmother scolding her favorite child.

“Haaah… come on. You’re not going to jail. I want to talk to you alone. Hey, uncuff her,” the owner of the nightclub tutted. One of the security guards went around her to unlock the handcuffs. “It took me a while to handle everything out there. At least the incident won’t be on the news or anything.” He reached out and held her elbow as she was released, steadying her balance and leading her out of the room. The guards followed, not taking a second glance back.

Jungkook frowned. “Hey, hyung–”

Seokjin whipped up and pointed a finger at him. “No. You stay here.”

Jungkook balked, offended. “What?! What about me?”

The older man glared at him like he was the naughty child. “I’ll have a conversation with you after. Stay.”

Anger boiled high. “I’m not a dog!”

Offensively, Seokjin barked back with, “You’re right. Dogs are loyal. And want to listen to people. You have the listening skills of a straw. In one end and out the other.”

The door slammed shut with finality.

Jungkook stood there, speechless, gawking at the sheer audacity.

Then he kicked the floor with a roar of impatience once Kim Seokjin’s insult finally registered. What the hell! Kim Seokjin was the one to invite him here in the first place! Seokjin was the oldest of Jungkook’s friends that took him under his wing, teaching him about various business aspects behind the scenes and making sure Jungkook knew the importance of having a good lawyer to look over his contracts. Now Seokjin had him locked up as if he was a five-year-old receiving a time out! Who did he think he was, his disciplinarian?

“What the fuck?!”

Then Jungkook ceased all movement, no longer stomping around in circles.

It was him.

Kim Seokjin had invited him here tonight.

It was him. Kim Seokjin had told him he better get his ass over here on this night in particular if he knew what was good for him. Not unusual, as his friends usually had to threaten him to go outside these days. It was you. You invited her here. It wasn’t Taehyung who invited her. He had been telling the truth all along.

“That bastard.”

Snarling, Jungkook whipped his head to the door and glared at it, fully intending to charge like a goddamn bull right into Kim Seokjin once it opened again.

I, I hear the whispers in your eyes I'll make you wanna think twice you'll find that you were never not mine you're mine

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, or a cotton-cashmere blend**

Fitted crewneck tees (long-sleeves/tees & tanks for layering)

Relaxed fit long-sleeve tees

Turtleneck long-sleeve top (fitted & relaxed fit options)

Contour bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Silk button-down blouse

Cotton button-down blouse

Silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Shirred boatneck, mock neck, or cowlneck silk blouse(s)

Leather button-down

Knitwear:

Thin cashmere/wool crewneck sweater (fitted/relaxed fit)

Thin cashmere/wool turtleneck sweater

Chunky relaxed-fit cable knit sweater

Knit polo-neck sweater

Cashmere sweater vest (crewneck, v-neck, and/or turtleneck)

Mockneck cashmere/wool sweater

Cashmere long-sleeve sweater dress

Cashmere/knit skirt (mini, midi, or maxi - depending on your personal preferences)

Sophisticated coordinating knit set (top/pants or skirt of your choice)

Casual knit set (top/pullover and relaxed fit pants)

Cashmere cardigan

Cable knit cardigan (doubles as a light jacket)

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

High-waisted leather pants

Split hem trousers

Stretch jersey/cashmere pants (straight-leg or flared)

Quilted leather/tweed mini skirt

Knit/wool mini and/pencil skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Silk midi skirt

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Knit/sweater dress

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Slip dress (for layering)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Leather and/or denim dress or jumpsuit

Jackets & Outerwear:

Black tailored blazer

Leather blazer

Tweed jacket

Trench coat

Leather moto/cropped/bomber jacket

Black wool coat

Raincoat ( I like Rains for high-quality options on the affordable side that are still built to last for several seasons)

Statement jacket/coat

Footwear:

Sleek flat/low-heel black boots with a pointed-toe or square-toe silhouette (I love Vagabond, Jeffrey Campbell, Vince Camuto, and Sam Edelman for more affordable, high-quality options)

Black loafers/sleek black flats

Black lace-up boots

Black heeled boots

Black pumps

White sneakers

Rain boots (I recommend the Melissa Shoes Welly/Grip/Step boots or a stylish, sustainable, and more affordable option)

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

Black control top tights

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Cashmere scarf

Silk/decorative scarf

Fingerless/touch-screen friendly, lightweight gloves

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Knit or jersey cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Cozy open-back slippers

[beansprean]

I adore Derek’s new gothpunk e-boy aesthetic and am sprinkling my own weeb hc on top!! I love him 😍

(Feel free to use his nakey self if you want to draw other fits on him, just don’t erase the watermark!)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Derek smiling nervously, left hand at his side and the other held up like ‘nya’. He is wearing a black studded collar, a scoop neck black shirt with crying anime eyes, bleach stained light jeans cuffed over black combat boots, and a puffy camouflage jacket with a hood. He also has fingerless gloves and several chains attached to o rings looped around his belt.

2. Repeat. Derek is wearing a dark blue long sleeves shirt with thumb holes, frayed hems, and elbow patches under a tattered white tee shirt with horizontal rips that says "blood lust rave" in dripping black font. Beneath are black jeans with a studded belt and red suspenders hanging tucked into knee high burgundy leather combat boots. He has on several gold and silver rings, a tattoo choker, a studded collar, a long necklace with a few rings, and a dark red beanie.

3. Repeat. Derek is wearing a black and white striped long sleeve turtleneck under a black Otoboke Beaver tee shirt and loose black jeans tucked into white platform boots. He has several silver rings a silver chain around his neck, and another looped through several o rings around his belt.

4. Repeat. Derek is wearing a loose dark red striped sweater with a rip at the neckline affixed with safety pins, dark wash skinny jeans with multiple rips down the thighs and knees over fishnet tights, and checkered high top sneakers. He has dogtags, a pentagram necklace, and a studded collar around his neck and multiple chains, padlocks, and handcuffs hanging from his belt with o rings.

5. Repeat. Derek is wearing a dark loose sweater with thumb holes, a ripped off collar connected with safety pins, and fishnet material from the waist down. It's tucked into loose black skater pants with dangling hooks and suspenders and an askew studded belt, unzipped at the calf to show red material underneath. Black converse peek out beneath the flared cuffs.

6. Repeat. Derek is wearing a white collared shirt under a black tee shirt that says “vampire weekday” in slashy red font and black jeans with red splatter on the knees tucked into red ankle boots. He has on several rings, a few chains and a padlock around his neck, and a studded belt.

7. Repeat. Derek is wearing a short sleeve dark grey button up with a white scallop pattern and rolled sleeves, unbuttoned past his sternum to show off the gold pendant around his neck. The shirt is tucked into dark wash jeans with a snakeskin belt, cuffs rolled to mid calf, a few inches above shiny burgundy ankle boots.

8. Repeat. Derek is wearing a pale lavender turtleneck with black fishnet sleeves that hook around his fingers like gloves tucked into black skinny jeans with a studded belt. He has a thick black studded collar with an o ring and a matching harness strapped across his chest, the center o ring attached to a leash he holds in his left hand. He has several chains attached to o rings at his belt and his jeans are tucked into huge black gothic platform boots with several straps.

9. Repeat. Derek is wearing an oversized black hoodie over distressed and ripped up jeans and scuffed brown hiking boots with the laces double wrapped around his ankles. His hoodie has some red lacing down the arms and at the cuffs, and at the center is a red square with a crying anime girl rendered in black with white lineart. Red text in Japanese on either side reads "lonely vampire"

10. Repeat. Derek is wearing black briefs. /End ID

[fashion-boots]

Camila Quintão Santiago in Aquazzura booties

[ageless-soul-au]

Dream girl!! 🌺 🌊

Marin washed up in Calatia, post Link's Awakening. The owners of a tavern in town gave her work and a place to stay, and Marin quickly learned that drunk people were sometimes assholes. She had to grow a thick skin, but eventually got used to the nature of her job (as well as learning that she could bat her eyelashes at some people and swindle them out of money/gifts/favors). She doesn't know much about where Legend is, or if he's even around in the time period she ended up in, but she's hoping to save up enough money in order to travel to Hyrule and find out...

Finally a ref for Marin!! I love her sososososo much, so I wanted to finalize an outfit for her before committing to a ref, bc she deserves something good!! I think I'm happy with this. The design on her corset is supposed to be reminiscent of waves.

Details not pictured: Her skirt falls to mid calf, and fades from the powdery blue at the top to the lighter blue that's the main color of her corset. For footwear, she has ankle boots that lace up and cream colored socks.

Marin is from ASAU, please don't tag any other AUs!! 💙

Image ID under the cut

Image ID: A character reference for Marin from Ageless Soul AU, featuring three drawings and text.

The text reads "Marin, barmaid from Koholint, age 21, height 5'4" / 162 cm, she/her."

The main drawing to the left pictures Marin looking slightly to the side and smiling smugly, twirling a lock of hair around her finger with her other hand behind her back. She has sunset red curly hair that's fluffy and falls to her lower back, brown eyes with red highlights, and tan skin with lots of freckles. Her body type is curvy/chubby and her dress shows some cleavage. She's wearing a sky blue dress made up of a strapless corset and a skirt, with the short, slightly puffed sleeves of a cream chemise sitting off her shoulders and the neckline of which is peeking up over the top of the corset. She wears the diamond shaped gold pendant with a red gem from Link's Awakening on a long chain, long enough that the pendant hangs slightly under her bust. Her hair is tucked behind one round ear, showing four ear piercings: two studs in her lobe and two rings in her upper cartilage (helix piercings).

The two doodles on the right are in a slightly more cartoony style.

The top doodle has a pink background and shows Marin in profile, leaning over a table that has pints of beer on it. She has a mocking, heart-shaped smile as she says, "I don't have to serve assholes. Get out~"

The bottom doodle has a green background. Marin is in a sassy pose with her right hand on her hip and her left dismissively waving off someone not pictured. Her eyes are closed as she says, "Not worth my time 💙 Go fuck yourself 💙"

There are doodles of hearts and water droplets around the page, as well as a fully rendered hibiscus and a color palette.

/end ID

[thekims4]

Night Out Outfit Lookbook #1

Hair / Skin 1, 2, 3, 4 / Eyebrows / Eyes / Eyelids / Eyeliner / Blush / Lips

Clothing - Fullbody

*Acc Azalea Styled Puffer Jacket (Glossy) @backtrack-cc

Jenny Slit Mini Dress @sunberry-sims4

Knit Slit Dress @sunberry-sims4

Blazer Suit @lin-dian

Oversized Boyfriend Sweater @backtrack-cc

Halter Skirt and Shirt @lin-dian

Graffiti Patternd T-Shirt @rimings

Acc

Valentino VLogo Signature Oval Metal Frame @bradfordsims

Valentino VLogo Signature Squared Acetate Frame @bradfordsims

Nail Combination @asansan3

G Crystal Earring @rimings

Zinare Earrings @suzuesims

Aurisk Earphones @dansimsfantasy

Akira Watch @caio-cc

Cheria Rings @pralinesims

Clarity Rings @mlsim

Mia Rings @arethabee

Brigadeiro Nails @candysims4

My Phone! @ssiat

Balenciaga Emo Bucket Bag @bergdorfverse

Muri Set - Fukkie Bag @fukkiemon

Valentino Roman Stud Handbag @bergdorfverse

Punk Set Mesh Stocking @eunosims

Ripped Tights @magic-bot

Shoes

Leather Platform Ankle Boots 04 @jius-sims

Pose

@9uell @helgatisha Hongzo @ratboysims @roselipaofficial @shijimimechime

[kisavatore]

Goth/Alt cc finds part 4-Shoes

Shoes

Heels Boots | Mid Boots | Ranger Boots | Samara Shoes | Tanya Boots Round Toe Embellished Rivets Platforms | Dr.martens Jadon Platform Boots Platform Boots | Platform Docs | Platform Ankle Boots | Leather Platform Oxford Obsidian Collection | Rose Battefield | Alecta Boots | Charm Duo Pack Dusk Diva Boots | Temptress Shoes | Valeria Shoes | Leather High Boots Halloween Boots | Shoes pack 39 | Shoes pack 47 | Shoes pack 63 Pitch black shoes | Echo Boots | Fate Boots | Fear Boots | High Boots Moon Boots | Kohaku Boots | Resentment Shoes | Remedy Shoes Marci Boots | Drella Heels | Rini Boots | Studded Platform Heels Staple Leather Sandals | Tech Boots | Dani Boots | Loafers Platform Shoes | Leather Boots | Heartbreaker Loafers | Mei Buckle Boots Ankle Boots | Spiky Boots | No Mercy Boots | Rush Hour Platform Boots Shatter Boots | Thunderous Boots | Vlad Boots | Platform Shoes

PT.1 | PT2. | PT.3 | PT.4 | PT.5

[fireyfobbitmedicine]

MGA wants to make Rainbow High a fantasy series now, fine.

But if they want me to give a rats ass they def gotta put in some effort for the fits cuz these are downright VILE

So here are my ideas for the main girls Rainbow World (needs a better name) looks

Note: this was all highly inspired by Fairytopia

Sunny

Sunny would be thriving in a fantasy land so she would look absolutely whimsical. I got the idea for flowers from her Fantastic Fashion dress and had the idea of her hair having tons of flowers in it (and also her having a more textured hairstyle)

Jade

I imagine this outfit for Jade but with leaves (cuz butterflies are Poppy's thing). Even in a fantasy world she would look delightfully edgy (like a fairy living in the Mad Max world).

Ruby

I was originally gonna give her a ladybug motif until I remembered that fire kinda was a thing for her and so went with this. She would have a flame bustier with a skirt that looks burnt up and Ruby's jewelry would also feature dragons in it for more of a fantastical vibe (she would also have her beach hair cuz I like the look)

Amaya

Skyler

Guess what inspired this look? I imagine Amaya's hair upgrading from white to silver and the rainbow in it becoming pastel and tied into low pigtails (I also saw someone say that Amaya's hair should've changed for every look a la Ramona Flowers and I agree). She would wear a rainbow gingham dress with a big flouncy skirt and a corset paired with rhinestone heels and the look becomes even sweeter with a locket choker and basket purse (fun fact: I was originally gonna style Bella with this look before realizing it would suit Amaya way better)

Skyler ofc keeps her denim even in a fantasy land. Originally I was gonna double dip and give her a denim butterfly top until I found the angel wing one which suited her perfectly (her skirt would also feature it too). I also remembered one of Skyler's motifs being moons and so incorporated that into her necklace, earrings, and hair clips with even some stars too. Her purse would also be a crescent moon with a constellation pattern on it. Skyler would also wear a long ruffled jacket with a skinny scarf and wear some ankle length boots (she's giving Bloom from Winx Club)

Violet

She's a lot more contemporary compared to everyone else (think like Bratz Fashion Pixies) and because of her Jr High look I just felt like she needed to look like an early 00's Disney Channel character. I also double dipped and gave her a star motif. She would wear those purple pants and ruffle belt with a star pattern on the legs with a long sleeve shirt with ruffles on the wrists with a tank top layered over it along with a fur trimmed jacket. She would also have a wacky Y2K hairstyle.

Bella

After I gave Amaya her original look I thought of giving her a motif like I did for Sunny, Jade, and Ruby + I was originally gonna give a pearl motif to Violet and so I went with that for Bella. I imagine her in a velvet outfit adorned with pearls with pantyhose boots in the same color and fabric studded with pearls and pearls chains on them. Her jewelry ofc features lots of pearls with even her headband being all pearls.

Poppy

Poppy has the best motif for a fantasy world so I went heavy into that. I imagine Poppy would have her hair pulled back with a big butterfly claw clip that could be seen even from the back and I wanted her whole outfit to give fairy. She would wear tons of butterfly bracelets all over her arms and have a butterfly ring on each hand with her heels also doing the same. I wanted her to have a mini skirt with a long piece on it to flow whenever she moved with a butterfly chain belt and ofc she deserved a butterfly top so I wanted her to have the most detailed one I could find (giving fairy warrior). Her jewelry would ofc feature tons of butterflies and I found the perfect purse for her (yes it's also a butterfly).

[magicfootballstuff]

Gym Buddies (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: When you rupture a ligament shortly after joining Barcelona, your new captain is there to help you through the long recovery process.

———

You don’t actually see much of Alexia in your first few weeks at Barcelona.

You had been in camp with your national team when the news broke that Alexia would be missing the Euros because of a knee injury, and though you paid attention to the story, knowing that this was an injury affecting a soon-to-be teammate, you had been so caught up in your own Euro preparations that it didn’t actually register what it meant until you actually find yourself in the Barcelona training facility for pre-season.

You meet Alexia on your first day with the team. She welcomes you in accented English and pulls you in for a hug - the kind of polite but awkward hug you get from a vague acquaintance - and then moves away to chat to some of the Spanish girls, leaving you slightly starstruck. You try not to let it show though. She may have a Ballon D’Or and another potentially on the way soon, but you’re a European champion, a very good footballer in your own right, but it’s Alexia bloody Putellas and she has this aura of magic around her, even without a ball at her feet.

And then, when the team start their warmup drills for your first ever training session at Barcelona, Alexia disappears off the pitch for her rehab session in the gym, and you realise it might be a little while longer before you actually get to play with her.

She remains a bit of a mystery, showing her face here and there, though she mostly seems to spend time with the girls who have been at Barcelona with her for years, and she shows up dutifully to every match to cheer from the sidelines, but Alexia is focused on the rehab that keeps her away from the training pitch.

But then, three weeks into the season, just when you’re starting to feel settled and have found your place in a star-studded Barcelona team, an awkward challenge in a match sees you falling badly and being helped off the pitch by the team physios with tears in your eyes. You hope it’s just a sprained ankle, something you can recover from quickly and find yourself back on the pitch in just a few weeks, but the scan the morning after the game confirms the worst - you’ve torn a ligament and will be out for several months.

Having not really spent much time with Alexia so far, it’s a bit of a surprise when you turn up to the training ground for your first session post-surgery, foot strapped up in a plastic boot, and are greeted straight away with a hug from your injured captain.

“We’ve got this,” she murmurs into your ear, her arms still wrapped around you as she holds you close. “Anything you need, I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” you tell her, squeezing her just that little bit tighter in response.

———

Later, when most of the girls are out on the pitch and you find yourself in the gym with Alexia and a couple of others who are sidelined with minor injuries, she reiterates her support for you.

“Are you okay?” she asks, while one of the physios is writing up your programmes for the day on a whiteboard in the gym - you’ve got an upper body circuit while Alexia will be doing a mix of strength training and low impact cardio.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m fine.”

“No, I mean are you okay? Like mentally?” Alexia taps her fingers against her temple to emphasise her question. “An injury can be tough to take.”

“Oh. Well, I’m disappointed, obviously. I just want to play. But this is part of football.”

“Somebody paid attention to their media training,” Alexia jokes, shooting you a little smirk. “A very professional answer. But you can open up to me if you’re struggling. I get it.” She gestures down at her knee. “Some days I’m really not okay. I love supporting the girls but it’s so hard to watch them and not join in. So if you need someone to talk to, remember I’m here. As your captain and as your friend.”

You realise now why she’s so popular among the team, why everybody who knows her speaks so highly about her as a person off the pitch as well as her obvious talent on it.

“Thanks, Alexia.”

“We’ll get through this. We’re injury partners now.”

“How about we say gym buddies instead of injury partners?” you suggest, gesturing around at the gym that will be your home for the foreseeable future until you get the all clear to go back out onto the training pitch. “Less depressing.”

Alexia grins at you.

“Deal.”

———

“Hola, gym buddy,” says Alexia, hurrying to catch up with you and draping an arm around your shoulders as you hobble into the gym on crutches two weeks into your rehab.

It’s been the hardest two weeks of your career, but you wouldn’t have been able to make it through without Alexia’s constant presence and support. You haven’t known her for long but she seems to know you better than anybody else on the team, she knows exactly what to say, when you need support and when you need space, and is rapidly becoming the sole reason you’re able to get out of bed each morning and motivate yourself to work through the slow progress of your rehab.

“Hey, Alexia,” you greet your captain.

“Ready for another day of hard work?” she asks you.

“I am now,” you joke.

Rehab is hard. And boring, too. You don’t yet feel like you’re actually making any progress, still unable to do any exercises that put unnecessary weight on your injured foot, you’re really just playing a waiting game until the boot can come off and the real work can begin.

“I’m hoping they let me use the bike today for the first time,” Alexia tells you, excitement barely contained in her voice.

“Ale, that’s huge!” you congratulate her. “I’m so happy for you.”

———

Recovery isn’t all good news. You learn that the hard way when your plastic boot comes off. What you thought would be a huge step forward in your recovery actually ends up just highlighting the mountain you have ahead of you. Perhaps naively you thought you’d be able to start ramping up the exercises pretty quickly, but the trainers are cautious and your rehab programme consists of the same old upper body workouts with only a handful of conditioning exercises for your ankle thrown in. Actually kicking a football again seems like it’s an eternity away.

But you’re not the only one who finds it difficult. Alexia presents such a strong exterior, full of motivation on your darkest days and always the one working hardest in the gym to get back to her best, but not even she is made entirely of stone.

You learn that when you go to the bathroom in the middle of a gym session and hear somebody crying in a locked cubicle.

Most of the team are outside on the training pitch, and of those of you doing recovery sessions indoors, all except one were accounted for when you left the gym a moment ago. There’s only one person this can be.

“Alexia?”

The sniffling stops and the subsequent silence that shrouds the bathroom is enough to confirm your hunch that your captain is the one crying in the locked cubicle.

“Alexia, it’s me.”

“I’m fine!” she calls back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Silence. You want to support her but you’re not going to push it if she’s not comfortable.

“Okay, I’m going to go now but if you change your mind…”

You hear the bolt being slid across and the hinges creak as Alexia steps out. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks glisten with tear tracks.

“I can’t do this,” she confesses, her voice cracking mid-sentence as she tries to stifle a fresh flood of tears.

You don’t know what to say. Alexia, the stoic captain, your rock since you picked up your own injury, standing before you more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen her before, and all you want to do is make sure that it’s all going to be okay. But telling her that doesn’t feel right - you know from your struggles with your own injury that those kinds of empty assurances are sometimes the exact opposite of what you need.

Alexia doesn’t need telling that, she needs to know that somebody understands her pain.

“I’m not going to tell you that you can do this,” you start, “but there have been so many times over the last couple of months that I’ve thought that I can’t do this. I’ve wanted to give up, to quit football. Some days I haven’t even wanted to get out of bed. Do you know the only reason why I did get up on those days?”

You pause for effect and Alexia says nothing, waiting for you to answer your own question. You place your hands on her arms as you look into her shimmering eyes.

“Because I know that when I get to the training ground, my gym buddy is going to be there to help me through the day.”

Alexia’s mouth twitches at the mention of the affection nickname you’ve been using for each other throughout your recovery.

You continue, “I’m working towards the day that I get to step out onto the grass and kick a ball around with the person who has saved me from my own worst demons. I want to play football with you. And just like you’ve been there for me, I’m here for you to make sure we get to that day together.”

“I can’t be strong every day.”

“You don’t have to be. But I think the strongest thing you’ve done since I met you is admitting that you’re not okay. I’m here for you today, so let it all out. Tomorrow we fight again together. Okay?”

Alexia throws her arms around you and pulls your body against hers for a tight hug.

“Okay,” she murmurs into your hair.

———

Something shifts after that moment. Before Alexia’s little breakdown, you had thought that it was her who was supporting you through your injury, but now you realise that you’re helping her just as much. You both have difficult moments - setbacks, or days where your return to the pitch seems an impossibly long way in the future - but you learn to read each other. Alexia can tell when you’re having a down day and gives you extra encouragement, hugs and humour, and you do the same when you can tell that she needs it too.

The months pass and the recovery intensifies. Somehow, despite your differing injuries, the timelines start to match up. You’re back running on the grass not long after Alexia, you rejoin the rest of the team for parts of the normal training within a week of each other, and when the time finally comes for you to return to the matchday squad, you and Alexia are both given approval to play again by the physios on the same weekend.

You even get subbed onto the pitch at the same time, when Barcelona are four goals up with twenty minutes left on the clock.

As the official gets the substitute board ready, Alexia’s hand finds yours and she squeezes your fingers. Your turn your head to look at her, to find her grinning at you.

“We did it,” she tells you.

“Yeah, we did.”

There’s so much more you want to say, so much you need to thank her for, because you wouldn’t have made it to this point without her by your side, but this isn’t the moment.

The teammates you’re replacing high five you as they come off and just like that, you’re back on a football pitch for an actual competitive game for the first time in forever.

The stadium erupts into monumental applause, and while you know that the Barcelona fans are mostly cheering the return of La Reina after ten months off the pitch, Alexia makes sure to direct her own applause to you as you both jog onto the pitch, and that’s all that matters to you.

Alexia ends up scoring Barcelona’s fifth and final goal, a free kick from just outside the box, because how else does a double Ballon D’Or winner announce their return to competitive football? As the back of the net ripples and the crowd roars, she runs straight over to you and wraps you in an embrace so tight that she physically lifts you off the ground, and your feet only touch the grass again when the rest of your teammates join the huddle to congratulate their captain.

The match ends not too long after and Alexia once again seeks you out straight away. She puts a hand on either side of your head and looks you straight in the eye, her face cracking open into a grin.

“We’re back,” Alexia says.

“We are,” you agree. “And you scored.”

“That goal was for you.”

You don’t get to respond because the rest of the team bundles into you and you can only watch as they work together to lift Alexia up and start throwing her into the air. Then before you know it they’ve gone for you too, and you find yourself lifted off the ground in celebration of your return to the matchday squad.

You have a brief moment of worry that they’re going to drop you and inflict another injury on you, but then you hear Alexia’s laughter rippling through the air and you feel at ease again.

She always has a way of settling your anxieties, whether she’s trying or not.

———

Some time later, when you’ve showered and changed and the dressing room is almost empty, you look around for Alexia but can’t see her anywhere.

Lucy, who is supposed to be giving you a lift home after the match, nudges you and says, “She went back onto the pitch.”

You turn to look at her quizzically, because she can’t possibly know who you’re looking for.

“What?”

“Alexia. Go on, I’ll wait in the car. Tell her how you feel.”

Your cheeks burn.

“It’s not … I don’t …”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from my own past injuries,” Lucy interrupts your stammering, “it’s that life is too short to live with any regrets. Go and talk to her. I think you’ll be surprised.”

You don’t say anything but nod your thanks to Lucy, hoisting your boot bag onto your shoulder and exiting the dressing room. You wander back down the tunnel and out to the edge of the pitch. Alexia is nowhere to be seen, but when you turn around, you spot a lone figure sitting up in the stands, surveying the empty pitch in front of her.

You climb the steps two at a time and walk between the rows of seats, before sitting down next to Alexia.

“I’ve been playing on this pitch in a Barcelona jersey for longer than I can remember,” Alexia tells you, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Every time it’s special. I can’t tell you how many times in the last few months I thought I’d never get that honour ever again.”

You laugh, ready to tell Alexia that she’s insane, because while you had similar moments of worry in your own rehab journey, you never for once doubted that Alexia wouldn’t make it back, but she turns to you and continues speaking.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have got here without you,” she tells you.

“I definitely wouldn’t have done it without you,” you admit. “My gym buddy.”

Lucy’s words ring in your ears. Now is the moment to tell Alexia how you feel, but you clam up at the prospect, unable to find the words to tell Alexia how much she means to you.

Luckily, Alexia seems to be stronger than you, and finds the words you can’t.

“You’re so much more than my gym buddy,” Alexia tells you, reaching across and taking your hand. “You entered my life at exactly the right moment and I’m so lucky to have you.”

You let your fingers tangle with Alexia’s, you heart hammering in your chest as you steel yourself for a moment that seems harder than any you went through during your recovery.

“I’m the lucky one,” you confess. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anybody else by my side. You’re more than my teammate, more than my friend. I think I’m falling for you.”

There. It’s out. You finally admitted it. Your heart is out there for Alexia to bruise in a way that will be much harder to heal from than a stupid ankle injury.

But Alexia lets out a deep breath and her mouth curls up into a smile, a look of adoration in her eyes as she squeezes your fingers.

“Me too. I’m so glad you feel the same. I thought I was being stupid.”

“Can I kiss you?” you blurt out.

“Please,” Alexia nods.

You lean in and the moment that your lips touch Alexia’s is even more euphoric than kicking a football again after months of rehab. A memorable day becomes even more special as Alexia reciprocates your kiss, lips moving slowly against each other, a reward and a thank you for months of helping each other through the tough times to get to today.

You pull apart when you’re getting breathless, and though you’d happily spend the rest of the night here, kissing Alexia in the stands at the Estadi Johan Cruyff until long after the sun has gone down, you know you should probably head home.

“I really don’t want to go, but Lucy’s waiting in the car to drive me home,” you tell Alexia, still holding onto her hand as you start your goodbyes. “But thank you again for everything.”

“I don’t think I’m going to forget today for a long time,” Alexia says. “For more than one reason.”

“Me neither,” you agree. You lean in for one more kiss, unable to get enough of Alexia’s lips, before you pull away and reluctantly let go of her hand as you stand up. “See you in training?”

“Or sooner,” suggests Alexia, with a smile that causes your heart to do a little flip. “I’ll text you.”

“I can’t wait.”