Alexia Putellas x Female!Reader (Spanish Basketball Player)
TW: Smut and soft
WC: 5K
The sports hierarchy within FC Barcelona was a massive, interconnected ecosystem, but the crossover between the women’s football team and the basketball team was a tight, incredibly supportive circle. At twenty-eight, you were the starting shooting guard for the basketball team. Standing at a striking six foot one, you possessed the long, lean, athletic build of a high-performance athlete, with sharp reflexes and a quiet, intensely focused charisma that completely transformed into a relaxed, slightly introverted charm the moment you stepped off the hardwood.
You were excellent at what you did, well-respected within the multi-sports club, and you had a solid group of mutual friends that crossed directly over into the footballing world. Specifically Mapi León and Patri Guijarro, who were notorious for bridging the gap between the different sections of the club.
Which was exactly how you found yourself sitting in a dimly lit, high-end cocktail lounge in El Born on a rainy November Thursday night, wrapped in an oversized leather jacket, holding a gin and tonic, and looking directly into the dark hazel eyes of Alexia Putellas.
You had seen her around the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, of course. Everyone knew who Alexia was. You had seen her in the common medical wings, passing by the recovery rooms, sometimes caught in nothing but her compression shorts and a sports bra while getting her knees iced. You weren't blind; you had noticed the extraordinary, tight curve of her thighs, the powerful slope of her lower back, and that legendary, unyielding posture. But you had always practiced an absolute, professional restraint. You were naturally shy, a bit reserved, and you didn't cross boundaries.
That night, however, the boundaries were heavily blurred by the third round of cocktails and Mapi’s relentless, loud orchestrations.
"y/n is too quiet," Mapi laughed, leaning across the velvet booth, gesturing toward you with her drink. "She looks like a sweet scholar with her glasses on, but I promise you, on the court, she’ll drive into the paint and drop twenty points on your head without breaking a sweat."
Alexia, who was sitting directly across from you, shifted her weight. She was dressed elegantly in a black silk shirt with the top three buttons undone, her hair falling softly around her shoulders. She had been watching you all evening, her gaze steady, intense, and thoroughly predatory in a way that made your pulse do a strange, rapid flutter. Unlike her usual introverted public persona, Alexia was feeling uncharacteristically bold, spurred on by the warm atmosphere and the undeniable, thick chemistry that had been crackling between you two since you sat down.
"I like the quiet ones," Alexia murmured, her voice a low, raspy register that vibrated right through the noise of the lounge. She locked her eyes onto yours, a slow, incredibly confident smile touching her lips. "They usually have the most interesting things to say when you get them alone."
You held her gaze, your cheeks flushing a faint, warm pink, but you didn't look away. You took a slow sip of your drink, your long fingers tapping against the glass. "Maybe I’m just conserving my energy, Putellas. Basketball is a game of pacing."
"Then let’s change the pace," Alexia replied instantly, her confidence striking like a fast break.
An hour later, when the rest of the group went to the bar to order another round, Alexia slid smoothly across the leather booth, her thigh pressing directly against yours. The heat of her body was massive, cutting straight through your denim. She reached out, her hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, her thumb tracing the soft skin behind your ear with a sudden, intense pressure.
"You’ve been looking at my lips all night, guapa," Alexia whispered, her breath warm against your cheek. "Are you going to keep calculating the percentages, or are you going to take the shot?"
Your shyness melted into a clean, focused adrenaline. You turned your head, your long fingers coming up to cup her jaw, feeling the sharp, beautiful line of her bone. "I never miss a clean shot, Alexia."
When your lips met, the world completely flattened. It was a deep, heavy, and thoroughly possessive kiss. Alexia was incredibly forward, her tongue sliding against yours with a demanding, hungry rhythm, her body leaning heavily into your tall frame. You kissed her back with a slow, deep authority, your hands anchoring her waist, but despite how hot the friction became, you kept your promise to yourself. You were a woman of deep respect. You didn't do casual locker-room flings, and you certainly weren't going to tumble into bed with the club’s biggest icon without a proper foundation. That night, after twenty minutes of breathless, heavy making out in the dark corner of the booth, you parted with a lingering, sweet kiss, leaving her completely flushed and wanting more.
The months that followed were a beautiful, torturous exercise in anticipation. The connection deepened rapidly; you began spending all your free time together, navigating long walks along the coast, quiet dinners in your flat, and endless late-night conversations. You officially became girlfriends three months later, a mutual commitment that made Alexia absolutely pillada—completely head over heels in love with you.
But during that entire courting phase, you had maintained a strict, highly disciplined boundary. You kissed her until your lips were swollen, you held her tight against your chest in the dark, but you didn't go beyond the fabric of her clothes. You wanted her to be yours completely before you uncovered the heavy, carnal desire that had been building inside your mind.
And Alexia, realizing your restraint, turned into an absolute, unyielding provocateur.
Once the relationship was official, her phone became a weapon of mass distraction. Because you were a basketball player, you appreciated high-end design, and Alexia took full advantage of that. She began sending you casual, highly devastating text messages throughout the week.
Alexia: [Image: A mirror selfie taken in her luxury room. She is wearing nothing but a premium, emerald-green lace lingerie set that cups her full breasts perfectly, the high-cut briefs accentuating the extraordinary, muscular curve of her hips and the tight, flat plane of her stomach. Her face is slightly obscured by the phone, but her lips are parted in a small, wicked smile.]
Alexia: I bought this new set today for our holiday next month, Y/N’ita. I wanted to get the doctor’s opinion on the fabric. Do you think the color suits my skin, or should I try something a bit more... revealing?
You would sit on the training bench at the basketball pavilion, your chest heaving from a practice session, staring at the high-definition image until your throat went completely dry. Your long fingers would tremble as you typed back, your inner top completely waking up.
Y/N: The green looks incredible against your skin, Ale. But the fabric is doing entirely too much work. If you wear that in front of me, I promise you won't be standing up for the rest of the weekend. Put it away before I drive to your house right now.
Alexia: Come and make me put it away, amor. I’m waiting.
The playful, theoretical conversations about sex were a constant current between you. One evening, while lying on her sofa watching a movie, Alexia had casually brought up the topic of toys and preferences, trying to test your limits.
"You're always so calm, Y/N," she had murmured, her fingers tracing the line of your collarbone. "So shy when Mapi makes jokes. But I’ve seen how you look at my body when you think I’m not paying attention. I know you know things. What about toys? Do you like control?"
You had let out a low, incredibly smooth chuckle, your eyes darkening as you looked down at her. You weren't a fool; you were highly experienced, and your naturally dominant, calm energy was merely waiting for the right moment to release. "I’m shy with words, Ale, not with my hands. I know exactly what to do with a woman’s body. And when it comes to toys... I like anything that keeps you completely pinned to the mattress while I take my time with you. Don't mistake my patience for submission."
Alexia had swallowed hard, her pupils dilating instantly at the raw, heavy authority in your voice, her body shivering against yours.
The boiling point arrived on a Tuesday in late January. You had suffered a minor, thoroughly annoying injury during a tactical practice session—a silly hyperextension of your left ankle after landing awkwardly on an opponent's foot. It wasn't severe, but the medical staff had strictly ordered twenty-four hours of absolute rest, icing, and no training.
Because you were grounded, Alexia had insisted you stay at her luxury house in Castelldefels.
It was late afternoon. A heavy winter rain was hitting the glass windows of her bedroom. You were propped up against a mountain of pillows on her massive king-sized bed, your left ankle wrapped in a neat compression bandage, watching a movie on the flat screen. But your brain was completely detached from the plot.
From the adjacent en-suite bathroom, the loud, steady hiss of the shower had been running for twenty minutes.
Your mind was entirely consumed by a series of dirty, intrusive, and highly vivid thoughts. You had seen Alexia semi-naked in the common recovery wings before, but today, knowing she was your girlfriend, knowing she was completely yours, the images were torturing you. You kept picturing the water cascading down her tight, muscular shoulders, tracing the deep, powerful curve of her spine, and pooling over that magnificent, world-class arse that you had been dying to sink your fingers into for months. You were starved, your patience completely exhausted.
Suddenly, the hiss of the water shut off.
A few minutes later, the frosted glass door opened slightly. Alexia poked her head out, her skin glowing pink from the heat, her hair completely wet and slicked back. She looked exceptionally beautiful, water droplets still clinging to her collarbone. She looked at you, a mischievous, thoroughly provocative glint in her hazel eyes.
"Y/N, hey, amor," she called out, her voice dripping with an innocent, slightly exaggerated sweetness. "Can you do me a massive favor? I completely forgot to bring my towel inside. It’s sitting on the rack right next to the bed. Can you reach it for me? I’m absolutely freezing and soaked."
You blinked, your brain doing a quick, analytical calculation. The towel rack was literally three steps from the bathroom door, well within her own reach. She was playing with you. She was testing the injured basketball player, trying to see how much control she could exert over you.
A slow, dangerous smile touched your lips. "Of course, babe."
You carefully slid your long legs out from beneath the duvet, ignoring the slight stiffness in your left ankle. You stood up to your full six-foot-one height, wearing nothing but a pair of grey jersey shorts and a loose black t-shirt. You walked over to the wooden rack, snatching the thick, oversized white towel.
Instead of just handing it through the gap, you pushed the bathroom door open fully.
Alexia stood there, completely naked, her skin glistening with moisture, her full breasts rising and falling with a sudden, caught breath as she looked up at your tall, imposing frame. Before she could utter a single witty remark, you stepped into her space. You snapped the heavy towel open, wrapping it completely around her wet shoulders, your long arms drawing her body directly against yours with an unyielding, massive strength.
"Y-Y/N..." she gasped, her hands coming up to rest against your chest.
You didn't let her speak. You leaned down, your mouth crashing onto hers with a primitive, heavy hunger that had been locked away for months. It wasn't the sweet, polite kiss of a girlfriend; it was a possessive, deep claim. Your tongue slided into her mouth, tasting the mint of her toothpaste and the clean heat of her skin, your fingers digging firmly through the towel to grip the soft flesh of her waist.
Alexia let out a soft, whimpering moan against your lips, her knees instantly going weak against your thighs. You broke the kiss after a long, breathless minute, your eyes dark and completely focused as you stared down at her flushed face.
"There’s your towel, baby," you murmured, your voice a low, commanding growl. "Dry yourself. I’ll be waiting."
You turned around and walked back to the bed, sliding onto the mattress with a calm, predatory leisure that left Alexia completely stunned in the doorway.
Alexia walked out of the bathroom two minutes later, deliberately ignoring your warning. She hadn't put on any clothes. She hadn't even wrapped herself in a robe. She was completely naked, her wet hair slicked back, her skin still radiating a clean, soapy heat. She walked over to her large chest of drawers, her back turned to you, her jaw set with a stubborn, competitive determination.
She was trying to regain control of the match. She began slowly riffling through the drawer, pretending to search for a pair of underwear and something comfortable to wear, her movements highly exaggerated, deliberately flexing the deep, magnificent curve of her lower back and her firm, rounded glutes right in your line of sight.
Vaya culazo (what an ass), you thought, your vision completely narrow-focused on her body, a heavy, hot ache tightening in your lower abdomen. You were naturally a bit shy, but right now, the quiet shooting guard was entirely gone.
You stood up from the bed, your movements completely silent as you crossed the hardwood floor. You stepped up directly behind her, your massive six-foot-one frame completely casting a shadow over her shorter, compact body. You reached out, your long arms wrapping securely around her waist from behind, pulling her bare back and her firm arse directly against the front of your grey shorts.
Alexia jumped slightly, a small gasp leaving her lips, her hands freezing inside the drawer.
"Y/N," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she felt the hard, thick ridge of your arousal pressing right against the cleft of her buttocks. "I’m... I’m trying to find some clothes."
"I think it’s incredibly unfair, Nena, pretty unfair," you murmured softly, your mouth coming down to press a hot, biting kiss against the tense muscle of her shoulder, your hands sliding down to grip her hips with an unyielding pressure.
Alexia tilted her head back against your chest, her eyes fluttering shut as a shiver ran down her spine. "What’s... what’s unfair, amor?"
"You spent months sending me photos, teasing me while I was trying to respect our pace," you whispered, your teeth gently nipping the sensitive skin of her neck, making her let out a sharp, ragged breath. "And now, you stand in front of me completely naked, flexing that gorgeous ass, pretending you're just looking for underwear. You think because I have a wrapped ankle, I can't handle you?"
Alexia let out a breathy, thoroughly wicked chuckle, her inner captain trying to make a final stand. She turned around within your embrace, her front pressing against yours, her hands sliding up to grip the back of your neck. She looked up at you, her hazel eyes heavy with a sudden, dark lust.
"Then handle me, Y/N," she challenged softly, her hips giving a subtle, deliberate forward roll against your crotch. "I’ve been waiting to see what the quiet basketball player can actually do. Show me who commands the court."
That was the absolute end of her control.
You bent your knees slightly, your long, powerful arms hooking directly beneath her thighs. With an effortless, athletic strength, you lifted Alexia completely off the floor. She let out a sharp cry of surprise, her legs instinctively wrapping tightly around your waist, her hands clamping onto your shoulders as you carried her three steps back to the bed, tossing her onto the center of the mattress.
Before she could even adjust her position, you touseled out of your vest and shorts, leaving yourself completely bare, your tall, sculpted body looming over her like a magnificent storm. You crawled between her legs, your knees pinning her thighs wide apart, your large hands coming down to clamp her wrists securely against the pillows above her head.
Alexia looked up at you, her breathing shallow and rapid, her chest heaving. She was the captain, the leader, the one who dictated the rhythm of every game. She wanted to be the top; she had planned to dominate you, to make you whine beneath her. But looking up at the absolute, calm dominance in your dark eyes, she realized she had completely miscalculated the percentages. You were a shooting guard, but today, you were commanding the paint with a lethal, unyielding authority.
"Y/N..." she whimpered, her wrists trying to twist against your grip, but your long fingers were like steel handcuffs.
"Quiet, Ale," you commanded softly, leaning down until your lips were a millimeter from hers. "You wanted the shot. Now you're going to take the whole defense."
You let go of her wrists, but before she could move her arms, your right hand slid down her stomach, your long, agile fingers parting the soft hair between her thighs and sliding directly into her wet, swollen core.
Alexia arched her back off the mattress with a loud, shattered scream, her eyes flying open as your fingers found her completely soaked, dripping, and blazing hot. You didn't waste time with gentle, polite exploration; you knew exactly how a woman’s body worked. You found her clitoris instantly with your thumb, applying a firm, rhythmic pressure while two of your long fingers slided deep inside her tight, slick channel.
"Oh, god! Y/N, por favor!" Alexia wept, her head thrashing against the pillows, her hands reaching down to desperately grip your forearms. She was completely overwhelmed by the sheer, sudden intensity of the friction. You were moving your hand with the precise, high-speed coordination of a professional athlete, your fingers curling inside her, hitting her G-spot with an unyielding, heavy tempo.
"You're so wet for me, Captain," you whispered against her ear, your breath hot and heavy as your thumb increased the speed, completely ruthlessly punishing her center. "Look at you. Completely at my mercy. Where is that smug smile from the texts, mmm? Tell me how much you want it."
"I want you! I want it! Follame, Y/N, por favor!" she begged, her Catalan endearments slipping out in a desperate, ragged stream as her hips began to thrash uncontrollably against your hand. She was completely broken, her pride entirely dismantled by your dominant, heavy rhythm.
You withdrew your fingers with a wet, sucking sound that made her let out a whimpering cry of protest. You didn't leave her waiting. You reached down, aligning the strap (she took out of her drawer and handled it to you) in her soaked entrance, and with one smooth, powerful drive of your hips, you slided completely inside her.
Alexia’s mouth opened in a silent, breathless gasp, her back arching so high her shoulders almost left the bed. The strap was long, thick, and you filled her so completely it felt like an absolute overload to her nervous system. Before she could even process the fullness, you gripped her hips with both hands, anchoring her flesh against the mattress, and began a deep, heavy, and thoroughly primitive thrusting rhythm.
AH! Ah! Oh, god, Y/N! Alexia screamed, her fingers digging so hard into the muscles of your back her nails left white marks.
You were completely overriding her. Every single drive of your hips was deep, hitting the very back of her womb, your athletic core providing a relentless, crushing power that she couldn't fight. She was completely converted into the bottom, her body entirely vibrating under your weight, her head tossing from side to side as you hammered into her with a beautiful, expert precision.
"You like it deep, don't you, Ale?" you panted, your sweat dripping onto her chest, your face completely dark with lust as you looked down at her completely shattered expression. "Look at me. Tell me whose name you're screaming."
"Yours! ! Y/N! Oh, Déu meu, més fort, més fort!" she cried out, her voice breaking completely as your thumb came down to press against her clitoris once more while you continued to drive into her without a single drop of mercy.
The combination was too much. The pure, overwhelming size of the strap, the speed of your thrusts, and the absolute dominance of your position completely pushed her over the edge. Alexia’s walls began to contract violently around you, clamping your shaft in a tight, pulsing vice. She let out a long, high-pitched, and thoroughly shattered scream as she came, her entire body shaking with a massive, historic orgasm that completely drained her strength, her eyes rolling back as she shook beneath you.
Seeing her break down completely exploded your own restraint. You let out a deep, guttural growl, your hips giving three final, incredibly deep, driving thrusts, burying yourself as far as humanly possible inside her slick, pulsing heat as your own orgasm tore through your nervous system, filling her completely as you collapsed heavily against her wet, trembling chest.
The room was silent except for the heavy, ragged sounds of your combined breathing and the steady pattern of the rain against the glass. You lay there for several long minutes, your tall body completely covering hers, your face buried in her neck as the aftershocks of the climax slowly faded away.
Alexia’s hands were resting weakly against your back, her fingers lazily stroking your skin. She let out a long, exhausted, and thoroughly satisfied sigh.
"I take it back," she whispered raspy, her voice completely spent. "The basketball player definitely commands the court. You completely ruined me, Y/N."
You lifted your head, a soft, incredibly tender smile crinkling the corners of your eyes as you looked down at her flushed, sweaty face. You kissed her nose gently. "You provoked the wrong athlete, Ale. I told you I don't miss a clean shot."
"Mmm... it wasn't a clean shot, it was an absolute demolition," she chuckled softly, her hands sliding down to rest over your ass, her fingers giving a playful, slight squeeze.
For ten minutes, you simply lay there, wrapped in the warm afterglow, kissing softly, your long fingers tracing the lines of her face with a sweet, domestic adoration. Alexia was incredibly affectionate and a cuddler, her lips constantly searching for yours, her body clinging to your tall frame like a koala.
But as her breathing settled, you noticed a familiar, dangerous spark igniting within her hazel eyes once more. The captain’s recovery rate was legendary, after all.
"Y/N," she murmured, her leg sliding up the side of your thigh, her knee gently parting your legs once more.
"Mmm? What is it, amor?" you asked, smoothing a damp strand of hair from her forehead.
"That was an incredible first half," Alexia whispered, a wicked, thoroughly challenging smirk returning to her lips as her hands slided down your back, her fingers gripping your hips with a sudden, intentional pressure. "But a proper match has two legs. And I think it’s time for the home rotation. Turn over, guapa. Let the captain show you how she plays when she’s behind on the scoreboard."
You let out a loud, bright laugh, completely floored by her competitive spirit. "Alexia, my ankle..."
"Your ankle is perfectly fine for what I’m going to do to you," she interrupted softly, her body shifting with a sudden, fluid athletic grace as she slided out from beneath you, her strong hands wrapping around your waist to guide your tall frame onto your back.
You didn't fight her. You let out a low, satisfied sigh, spreading your long legs wide as Alexia crawled between your thighs. She looked magnificent—her skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, her dark eyes completely focused as she loomed over you. She didn't let you speak; she leaned down, her mouth capturing yours with a deep, hungry intensity, her fingers sliding down to find your own wet, aching core.
The second round was a completely different game. Alexia was a force of nature when she wanted to dominate. She used her mouth, her fingers, and her tongue with a fierce, relentless precision that made you lose your calm corporate executive mind completely. She made you whine, she made you arch your long back off the sheets, your long legs wrapping tightly around her shoulders as she drove you over the edge of a spectacular, shattering climax that left you completely breathless and trembling.
And before you could even recover, you grabbed her waist, flipping her beneath you once more, your dominant energy waking up for a final, heavy third round that left the bedsheets completely ruined and both of your bodies entirely spent.
"Okay, I seriously need a proper shower now," Alexia panted an hour later, her voice a complete slurred mess of exhaustion and post-sex bliss. She was lying spread-eagled on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow, her skin completely covered in dried sweat and love juices.
You let out a weak chuckle from beside her, your long limbs stretched out across the mattress. "Go on then, bae. I’ll just stay here and become part of the mattress."
Alexia lifted her head, turning her face to look at you through her messy hair. She let out a soft, thoroughly spoiled pout. "No. Come with me, amor. My muscles are aching, and I want you to wash my back. Please?"
You stared at her dramatic, beautiful face, completely helpless against her soft, vulnerable side. "Fine. But only because I love you."
You both stood up from the bed, your bodies completely naked and unbothered as you walked into the large, modern en-suite bathroom. Alexia turned the handles of the massive walk-in shower, the room instantly filling with a thick, warm cloud of steam.
The shower was a beautiful, state-of-the-art glass enclosure with a premium, high-pressure rainfall showerhead extending from the ceiling. It was designed for a standard-sized football player. It was not, however, perfectly optimized for a six-foot-one basketball shooting guard.
You stepped into the warm spray behind Alexia, the hot water instantly cascading over your shoulders, washing away the residue of the past few hours. You reached for the bottle of premium, vanilla-scented body wash, pouring a generous amount into your large palms, and began a slow, incredibly tender massage across Alexia’s tight shoulders and upper back.
Alexia let out a long, blissful purr, her head tilting forward under the water, her body leaning back completely against your front. "Oh, god... right there, amor. Your hands are literally magic."
"You're incredibly tense, Ale," you murmured softly, your long fingers digging expertly into the knots of her shoulder blades. "You need to relax during the week."
"I am relaxed now," she whispered, turning around within your embrace under the streaming water. Her skin was glistening, her eyes soft as she looked up into your face. She reached up, her hands coming up to cup your jaw, pulling your head down for a sweet, slow, and thoroughly water-logged kiss.
The intimacy was profound, completely filled with a tender, quiet adoration. But as you leaned into the kiss, shifting your weight to accommodate her shorter height, your left foot gave a slight, awkward slip on the wet tile due to your wrapped ankle.
Your reflexes instinctively kicked in. You tried to straighten your tall spine to regain your balance, moving your head upward with a sudden, rapid athletic motion.
THWACK.
Your forehead connected directly with the heavy, solid metallic edge of the rainfall showerhead with a loud, hollow metallic ring.
"Ow! hostia..." you groaned loudly, your hand instantly flying to your forehead as you stumbled back against the glass wall of the shower, your eyes watering from the sudden, sharp impact.
Alexia’s eyes flew open, her face transitioning from pure romantic bliss to a state of absolute, terrified panic in half a second. "Y/N! My god! Are you alright?"
She shut the water off instantly, her small hands coming up to frantically pull your hand away from your forehead to inspect the damage. There was no blood, thank God, but a prominent, bright pink lump was already beginning to form right near your hairline.
You stood there, leaning against the glass, looking completely ridiculous—a six-foot-one elite basketball player defeated by a standard bathroom fixture.
"I forgot... I forgot how low the ceiling is in here," you mumbled, a sheepish, thoroughly embarrassed smile touching your lips as you rubbed the bump.
Alexia stared at the pink lump, then looked at your massive, awkward frame, and completely broke down into a fit of loud, bright, and thoroughly uncontrollable laughter. The sound echoed off the tiles, her head falling against your bare chest as she shook with amusement.
"It’s not funny, Putellas," you pouted playfully, your long arms wrapping around her waist. "I have a concussion now. My basketball career is over because of your shower."
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, amore," Alexia laughed, wiping a tear from her eye as she stood on her tiptoes to press a series of soft, incredibly apologetic kisses directly over the pink bump on your forehead. "You are just too tall for my house. You are a giant. A beautiful, brilliant giant who completely ruined my body but lost a match against the plumbing."
"Shut up," you smiled, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, warm kiss that silenced her laughter completely.
She wrapped a soft, fluffy towel around your waist, before leading you out of the bathroom like a patient. For the rest of the evening, she refused to let you move a single muscle. She made you lie down on the fresh bedsheets, applied an ice pack to your forehead, and crawled right beside you, her body tucked securely beneath your long arm.
The Castelldefels house was quiet, the winter rain still pattering against the glass, but inside the bedroom, the warmth was absolute. Alexia was tracing soft circles against your chest, her hazel eyes looking up at you with an expression of pure, unadulterated worship.
"No more showers for you, giant," she whispered softly, kissing your jaw. "From now on, we stay in bed where it’s safe."
"I think that’s a highly tactical decision, Captain," you smiled, pulling her closer into your unyielding, protective embrace as the golden hour faded into a peaceful, deeply grounded sleep.
After a bitter home defeat for Chelsea, the tension between Niamh Charles and you erupts in the locker room, revealing a rivalry that goes beyond tactics. What seems like an irreconcilable clash between strict discipline and risky improvisation is, according to your teammates, a reflection of the same obsession with control. However, when a mechanical breakdown forces you to accept a ride in the rain with Niamh, both of your armors begin to crack. In the intimacy of a car stopped by the roadside, you discover that your hatred was nothing more than the fear of being seen, transforming the rivalry into a mutual understanding that promises to change both your game and your lives.
Based on this request -> here, I hope you like it!
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The Chelsea locker room after a home defeat feels like a luxury funeral. The air is thick, heavy with the smell of damp grass, sweat, and the bitter taste of helplessness. No one speaks. Only the metallic sound of studs against the floor and the rush of the showers in the background can be heard.
I am sitting on my bench, my head buried in my hands, reliving the final minute of the match. That pass I didn’t make, that fraction of a second in which I hesitated. I feel a stare burning into the back of my neck. I don’t need to look up to know who it is.
"If you had stayed with your mark instead of trying that individual play, they wouldn’t have had the space for the cross," Niamh Charles’s voice is cold, precise, almost robotic.
I jump to my feet, my heart still racing. "Not everything is a tactical scheme, Niamh. Sometimes you have to take risks. But of course, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You’re so perfect you seem plastic."
Niamh doesn’t even blink. She crosses her arms, with that impeccable posture that gets under my skin. "What you call ‘taking risks,’ I call recklessness. There’s a difference between having talent and having discipline."
"That’s enough, both of you!" Millie’s voice booms through the locker room. Millie walks over, pulling off her captain’s armband, and looks at us with a mix of exhaustion and bitter amusement. "It’s exhausting to watch you. Don’t you realize?"
"Realize what, Millie?" we both ask in unison, with the same indignant tone.
Aggie and Lucy exchange a look from the other side of the room. Lucy, who only arrived this season but has already seen everything football has to offer, lets out a short laugh.
"It’s insane," Lucy says, leaning against her locker. "Niamh criticizes Y/N for being impulsive, and Y/N criticizes Niamh for being rigid. But you were both crying in the tunnel over the same mistake. You both have the same obsession with control, you just express it differently."
"We’re nothing alike," I insist, even though doubt begins to sting like salt in an open wound.
"Shut up and go shower," Millie says, pointing toward the exit. "It’s scary how similar you are. It’s like watching two people fighting their own shadow."
Two hours later, the Cobham parking lot is almost empty. The Surrey drizzle has turned into a steady downpour. My car won’t start. The engine makes an agonizing sound and I give up, slamming the steering wheel in frustration.
"Trouble?" Niamh is standing next to her car, a few meters away. She’s wearing her Chelsea hoodie with the hood up and looks like a solitary figure in the dim light.
"I don’t need your help, Charles. Go home and review your passing stats," I say, stepping out of the car and letting myself get soaked by the rain, preferring the cold to her condescension.
But Niamh doesn’t leave. She comes closer. And for the first time, she doesn’t walk with that ironclad confidence. Her shoulders are slumped, the tension of the match still etched into every muscle.
"Stop fighting for one second, Y/N. It’s not starting. Get in mine, I’ll drive you."
The drive is suffocatingly silent. She drives with both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road, her profile intermittently illuminated by passing headlights. I stare out the window, watching raindrops slide down the glass, reflecting the blurred city lights.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I blurt out suddenly. The question hangs in the air, heavy, like a truth that’s been hidden for far too long.
Niamh tightens her grip on the wheel. Her knuckles turn white. "I don’t hate you, Y/N. You just… make me nervous. You’re so free on the pitch. You do what you feel without thinking about the consequences. I can’t do that. If I make a mistake, I feel like everything collapses. I have to be perfect to feel like I deserve to be here. There’s no room for improvisation."
I turn to look at her. The streetlights filtering through the windshield illuminate her profile and, for the first time, I don’t see the untouchable Chelsea player. I see someone who is terrified of failing, someone with a vulnerability that disarms me.
"I’m the same, Niamh," I confess in a whisper, feeling my voice crack. "All that noise I make, the jokes, the impulsiveness… it’s armor. It’s to hide that I’m terrified of not being good enough. If I follow the rules and fail, the blame is mine. If I take risks and fail, I can blame chaos, ‘bad luck,’ that ‘this is just how I am.’"
Niamh pulls the car over to the side of the road, beneath the faint glow of a solitary streetlamp. She turns off the engine. The silence is no longer tense; it’s revealing, almost reverent. The sound of rain against the roof is the only thing accompanying us.
"Millie is right," she says, with a sad smile I’ve never seen on her before. A smile that is more human than any gesture she’s made before. "We’re the same person in different packaging. I lock myself into discipline and you hide in chaos. But we’re both looking for the same thing: validation. The certainty that we belong."
"And we’re both alone in that," I add, feeling an ache that is no longer about football or the loss, but about the mutual recognition of that loneliness.
Niamh leans toward me. The difference in height in the car seat shortens as our bodies turn to face each other. I can see the shine in her eyes, a mix of exhaustion, understanding, and a connection that scares me more than any defeat.
"Not anymore," she says, and her hand, the one that always seemed so rigid on the pitch, rests with infinite softness over mine on my thigh. Her thumb brushes the back of my hand with unexpected tenderness. "We don’t have to be opposites, Y/N. Maybe we’re just two parts of the same player. Two halves of a whole."
In that moment, under the gray London sky, the anguish transforms. It’s no longer the pain of being misunderstood, but the vertigo of having been discovered, of finally being seen. Niamh looks at me as if she’s seeing me for the first time, without armor or prejudice. And I realize that what I hated most about her was, in reality, what I most needed to learn about myself.
Her eyes drop to my lips. My breath catches in my throat. There’s a silent question, an invitation. Slowly, Niamh closes the distance between us. Her lips are soft, a light, tender touch, almost a sigh, that steals my breath away. It’s not a passionate kiss, but one of recognition, of acceptance. A silent “I see you” that changes everything.
I pull back just a few centimeters, my heart pounding. "If the girls find out about this, they’re going to lose their minds," I say, trying to break the tension with a bit of my usual humor, even though my voice trembles.
Niamh lets out a real laugh, one that lights up the inside of the car as if the sun had decided to come out just for us. "I don’t think they will anytime soon."
I lean in and rest my head on her shoulder. For the first time in months, the noise in my head stops. We are not opposites. We are reflections of each other in a pane of glass that has finally stopped being broken.
Meeting someone at one of Niamh Charles’s parties usually guarantees a fun night, but when you instantly connect with a girl named Aggie, you don’t imagine she’s Chelsea’s academy jewel.
Based on this request-> here, I hope you like it !!
---
The party at Niamh Charles’ house was exactly like all her parties: too much noise, too much food, and too many people trying not to break anything expensive.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, watching the organized chaos with a smile. You’d known Niamh since before professional football became part of her daily routine. To you, she was still the girl who forgot her wallet in the most absurd places, not a Chelsea player.
“Y/N!” she shouted from the living room. “Come here, I need you to meet someone.”
She grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the crowd back into the kitchen, as if it were the center of the universe.
“Aggie, this is Y/N. My favorite person outside of football.”
The girl in front of you had an easy smile and an energy that was impossible to ignore.
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Aggie.”
“Y/N.”
“Niamh talks about you a lot,” Aggie added, amused. “Especially about your ability to win ridiculous arguments.”
“That’s a lie,” Niamh cut in. “I win.”
“Sure you do,” you and Aggie replied at the same time.
You looked at each other.
And that’s where it all started.
Niamh disappeared five minutes later to attend to more guests, leaving you talking alone. The conversation flowed with an ease you didn’t expect: music, bad TV shows, shared hatred of cold coffee, and how hard it was to find quiet plans in London.
Football was never mentioned.
And you didn’t ask.
To you, Aggie was simply another friend from Niamh’s circle.
—
Three months later, Aggie was no longer “the girl from the party.”
She was the person who sent you good morning texts with terrible memes. The one who insisted on walking through Battersea Park even when it was raining. The one who pretended not to be competitive until you pulled out a console.
You knew she worked “in sports.”
But she never specified.
And you never pushed.
Until one Sunday, Niamh called you.
“I need moral support. I’ve got two passes for today at Stamford Bridge. You’re coming, no excuses.”
“Who are you playing?”
“City. Big match.”
You accepted without thinking too much about it.
—
The stadium was full. The atmosphere vibrated even in the family and friends section.
You sat next to Niamh, who that day was suspended and couldn’t play. She explained parts of the match to you, and you nodded, pretending to understand.
Until the players walked onto the pitch.
And you saw her.
Number 33.
Hair tied back.
Focused smile.
Aggie Beever-Jones.
Your Aggie.
The world stopped for a second.
“That can’t be…” you murmured.
Aggie looked up toward the stands as if she knew exactly where to look. Her eyes found you in the crowd.
And she smiled.
A small wink.
A kiss blown into the air.
Next to you, Niamh frowned.
“Who is Aggie blowing a kiss to?” she asked, confused. “She’s very happy today.”
You were still in shock.
“Niamh…”
“Yeah?”
“Since when does Aggie play for Chelsea?”
Silence.
She blinked.
“What do you mean since when? Since always. She’s literally my teammate.”
You slowly turned to look at her.
“You never mentioned it.”
“I thought you knew.”
“How would I know?”
Niamh opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“Okay… maybe I assumed things.”
—
Chelsea won with a goal from Aggie in the second half.
Of course.
When the match ended, you went down with Niamh toward the area near the tunnel.
The players started coming out.
Aggie was one of the first.
And the moment she saw you, she didn’t hesitate for even half a second.
She ignored cameras.
Ignored interviews.
Ignored Niamh.
She ran toward you and hugged you, lifting you slightly off the ground while hiding her face in your neck.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t tell you much about work?” she whispered, amused.
“You could have mentioned it.”
“I liked that you saw me as Aggie. Not as ‘the footballer.’”
The way she said it disarmed you.
Niamh appeared beside you with a completely betrayed expression.
“Sorry… what is going on here?”
Aggie put her feet back on the ground but didn’t let go of your hand.
“We’re dating.”
“Since when?”
“Three months,” you both answered at the same time.
Niamh looked up at the sky as if searching for divine patience.
“Three months. THREE. And I’ve spent weeks telling Y/N that Aggie is the most annoying one in training.”
“Hey,” Aggie protested.
“And I’ve spent weeks telling Aggie that my best friend would never date someone from the team because ‘that would be too much drama.’”
You crossed your arms.
“Do you know what the worst part is? You introduced us.”
Niamh pointed at herself.
“I did this?”
“You did this,” Aggie confirmed.
From behind, a couple of teammates started laughing as they noticed the scene. Someone whistled. Another shouted something unintelligible that made Aggie shake her head, red up to her ears.
Niamh kept looking at both of you as if she were trying to solve an impossible puzzle.
“I don’t know whether to feel betrayed or impressed,” she finally muttered.
“Impressed sounds better,” Aggie replied without letting go of your hand.
You smiled, leaning slightly toward Niamh.
“And relax. Your star teammate is actually pretty charming when she’s not scoring goals in derbies.”
Aggie let out a soft laugh.
“Thanks, I think.”
Niamh pointed at Aggie.
“Okay, but just so it’s clear, on Monday at training I don’t want a single complaint about ‘oh, I’m tired.’ Now I know exactly why you smile so much at your phone.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” Aggie protested.
“That’s being a good friend,” Niamh shot back.
Aggie wrapped an arm naturally around your waist, no longer hiding anything, resting her forehead briefly against your temple.
“So… did you like the goal?”
“It was good,” you said, pretending to analyze seriously. “But I liked the wink before the match more.”
She smiled sideways.
“I knew you were watching.”
Niamh shook her head, still incredulous.
“I’m going to need another party to process that my best friend and my teammate have been dating for three months without me knowing.”
“Technically,” Aggie intervened, “thanks to you, we’re here.”
“That’s what hurts the most.”
The three of you ended up laughing.
And while the cameras kept capturing celebrations for the victory, you only thought about how simple everything had been at the beginning: a crowded kitchen, a casual conversation, and a smile that promised nothing…
a/n slightly different writing to my usual but happy pride month! what better time to write about one of my fav girls <3
the answer’s yes | aggie beever-jones x popstar!reader
you were having your moment right now - music charting, sold out tours, winning awards every other week, life was good. as part of your album release cycle your team had arranged for you to go on numerous podcasts, one of them being saving grace. you had met grace a few times so thankfully felt comfortable enough to do a good episode with her.
"we have the sensational y/n on the pod!" the 'studio audience' of your's and her team claps and you blush slightly, laughing. "thank you so much for having me!" you talked about numerous things, but grace couldn't let you get away without talking about one thing...
"you recently came out! congrats" she smiled with genuine happiness for you. "thank you! yes, what a time" you laughed. "are you talking to anyone or what's the tea?" grace asks, digging for the gossip. "honestly no, think i need to go act mysterious at a women's football game, all the lesbians seem to be over there" you joke. "well exactly, how i met mine" grace shrugs. "what's your type? what you looking for?" grace asks. "anything i can get" you joke "haha, no i think blonde, taller than me umm maybe a bit soft masc like pretty girl but bit of an edge but you know nothing crazy, i'm open to offers" you shrug laughing. "i will make it my mission to find you a tall blonde soft masc, i will see who ella knows" grace nods. "appreciate it, thank you" you laugh nervously. you don't think too much of the podcast knowing it would probably create a bit of conversation online but nothing crazy. until you open your tiktok a few days after the podcast was uploaded to the clip of you talking about blonde footballers...
user1 surely this isn't a coincidence after aggie saying y/n is her favourite artist atm??
user2 girl literally just described aggie beever jones
user3 oh do we have a chelsea forward for you girl
user4 guys y/n doesn't even follow aggie, i reckon she's talking about someone else
who was aggie? you couldn't lie you didn't know much about women's football so seeing people guess her and numerous other players was making you laugh but you decided to do some research, searching aggie up first. immediately you knew she was your type and realised everyone had been right, you scrolled through the tiktok search results of her name until you stumbled across an interview clip of her.
"what music are you listening to these days?" she was asked. "oo good question. it's such a mix, olivia dean is always on but recently i've been adding some y/n into the mix, she's definitely one of my favourites right now, bangers for sure" she smiled and you felt your stomach doing somersaults. you went to stalk her instagram and immediately noticed: 'follow back' without even thinking you tapped the button and then a million thoughts rushed through your brain.
'are people gonna notice this then start even more rumours and then she's gonna think you're weird'
'what if she followed by accident'
you shut it off and just turned your phone off, trying to sleep but the noise in your mind keeping you awake. nothing happened for a while, the press and tiktok detectives were having a field day with the rumours and speculation but neither you or aggie had spoken to each other or addressed it. i mean she probably has a girlfriend anyways (you'd checked google a million times and it says no but you never know).
the next month, you were invited to the NTAs with the same brand as grace and her girlfriend ella. you arrived together and spent the evening together, you and grace necking prosecco like it's water. you watch many amazing people win awards for their tv moments, including the lionesses. ella nudging your arm when they stepped on stage "your wife's on stage" she joked, referring to aggie and you just playfully rolled your eyes. "i wish" you said, drunken mind speaking before thinking and covering your mouth in shock and laughing with grace.
once the awards finished, it was time to head to the after party. you and grace were bringing the party before it even started, ella however on best behaviour looking after the pair of you. you spend about 10 minutes at the bar and doing a lap of the room before ella notices someone. "leah williamson is over there" she points. both you and grace's heads snap towards the bar and see leah talking to her girlfriend. "go talk to her" grace says, ushering ella over. "come on then guys" you all awkwardly trail over, keira walsh also now joining leah and elle at the bar. "congrats on the win guys!" ella beams. "oh my god ella! we've not seen you since like under 19s. how are you?" leah and keira hug her before turning round to you and grace. leah takes one look at you, "i know you" she pauses and points. "you're getting with our aggie" she smirks. you raise an eyebrow in confusion, "she wishes" grace jokes and you look at her in shock. "oh! so that's what it is, you like her? she's over there somewhere, i can introduce you" leah says, slightly laughing at your panicked face. you blamed the alcohol for the rush of red to your cheeks but everyone knew what it really was. "i mean, um yeah? i don't know" you say avoiding eye contact, looking for the nearest exit. the truth is you did find her very attractive and all the videos you'd seen of her online made you believe she was a nice person and that the two of you would get on well but actually meeting her was awkward and terrifying. what if she thinks i'm weird after all the rumours or - "hi" you hear a new voice enter the conversation. you look up, it was aggie.
"oh hi" you smile, scared to look into the girl's blue eyes. "great to finally meet you" she smiles, reaching out for a hug which you lean in for. "great to meet you too, this will be in the daily mail in the morning" you joke to try break the ice. she laughs with you and immediately you're at ease. "congrats on the win by the way" you say. "thank you, was very special to win on my birthday" she smiles. "oh my god, you won on your birthday that's so cool!" you beamed, genuinely interested. the conversation flowed between the two of you. "do you think they'll notice if we walk away?" leah whispered to the other girls as they all took slow strides away from you trying not to disrupt your conversation flow. spoiler alert, you didn't until you were interrupted by the bar tender. "do you guys want to order?" she asks. "oh um can i have a vodka diet coke please?" you ask, probably not needing much else to drink but ordering off instinct. "i'll have the same please" aggie says politely. you hadn't properly taken in her outfit, the light was hitting her in just the right way. her eyes and golden locks shining and you caught yourself smiling just before she caught you staring. "have i got something on my face?" she asks, teasing you slightly. "sorry, no" you both laugh slightly too much and the bar tender waits for you to finish before handing the drinks over. "where'd the others go?" aggie asks, you both look around and they're nowhere to be seen. "shall we just sit here?" she asks and you nod and sit at the small table with her. "wait is that tom hanks?" you point and aggie's head turns "where!" you both look over and realise it is in fact, tom hanks. "why is he at the NTAs?" you laugh leaning in closer to whisper. "that's so random!" aggie also laughs. you spend the next 15 minutes celeb spotting, both of you fangirling at all of the people in the room but both of you too stuck in the moment to get up and talk to them. "so, which one of my songs is your favourite?" the vodka giving you a confidence boost. "who says i like your music?" she raises her eyebrows at you. "you did" "oh so you've been searching me up online" she leans back. "well you know did a little background search, had to know who i was being accused of dating" you shrug. "fair, i didn't really have to do a background search on you" she says, cheeks turning slightly red. "oh really?" you tease back.
on lookers would think you were on a date, curled up on a tiny table. laughing at pretty much any word the other said, eye contact never breaking but the world passing around you. the party was starting to pick up now as music got louder, one song in particular catching the attention of aggie. "is that star girl, mcfly?" she beams. "i think so" you smile and before you know it, half the england team appears behind her and they're all up on the floor jumping around to the song. "come on!" she holds her hands out for you to follow her. thankful for the previous vodka you consumed, you joined her and the rest of the lionesses on the dance floor singing along unapologetically, gaining a few stares from the upper class celebs but none of you cared in that moment. you lock eyes with ella and grace and head over to them, "how's it going?" ella asks moving her eyes between you and aggie and you blush. "good, we've just been chatting but i don't even know if she's single so like it's just friendly" you say. "babe you two were eye-fucking each other, nothing friendly about that" grace says it straight and you can't help but feel giddy. "she's looking for you" ella says, causing you to turn around and you do notice her looking around but not confident it's you she's looking for, you just carry on dancing but soon enough she appears by your side. "this is my favourite song!" she screams over the words before putting her arm around your shoulder, causing you to sing along.
the party continues a bit longer, people coming and going but you and aggie remained amongst the last group dancing. the dj then went onto play one of your own songs and you wanted to die in embarrassment. aggie immediately begun singing, knowing all the words. jumping around with tooney and chloe kelly and you rolled your eyes playfully before giving in and jumping around with them. after that song, you surrender and go and take a seat, feet aching. "that was one of the best moments of my life, singing along to that song with some of my team and the literal singer of one of my favourite songs" aggie beams, joining you at the table. "oh shut up!" you say, "you literally won the euros, that was not the best moment of your life" you laugh. "hey, i never said best i just said one of the best" she smirks. "oh right okay" you roll your eyes at her teasing. "i can't lie i'm probably gonna leave soon, i think grace and ella already left" you say, tiredness hitting. "yeah i think i saw them leave" aggie confirms. "where do you live? not in a creepy way but more in a sharing transport way" aggie asks, panicking she sounds weird. "okay stalker... i live in richmond" you say. "oh my god! we're basically neighbours" aggie beams like you'd just told her the best news ever. "no way! where do you live?" you ask. "cobham" she confirms. "woah that is close" you agree, laughing slightly at her enthusiasm. "have you ever been to a chelsea game? stamford bridge is quite close to you" aggie asks you. "don't murder me... but no" you admit shyly. "what?! well we'll change that season starts in a couple weeks, i'll get you to a game" aggie nods.
you head outside and aggie kindly calls an uber to stop at both your places. "12 minute wait" she sighs. you look around, noticing a brick wall behind you and taking a seat. "good idea" aggie affirms. she joins you, the two of you sitting shoulders touching which was nice in the cold nighttime air. "how's your evening been?" aggie asks turning slightly to face you. "i mean an open bar is always good, company was average" you joke. "average?! that's so mean!" aggie almost shouts. "i'm joking, i'm joking" you end up leaning more inwards to her as you spoke passionately, your head colliding with her shoulder but she doesn't flinch and it actually feels quite nice to rest your tired head, so you end up staying there and aggie doesn't complain. "were you talking about me in that clip?" she asks out of nowhere, clearly feeling brave. "what cli- oh, the grace one" you say and you can feel her nod. "well, honestly? i didn't even know you existed then" you say and aggie pretends to clutch her chest. "but BUT" you talk louder to block out her complaints, sitting up now to grab her shoulders to face you. "BUT i would say you match the description pretty well. i guess i was talking about you without knowing i was talking about you" you shrug. "did you see the clip of me talking about you?" aggie asks. "the music one?" you ask and aggie shakes her head. "oh thank god you haven't seen it" she sighs in relief. "wait whatttt, you need to tell me now" you grab her arm. "no i can't" she puts her head in her hands. "aggie beever-jones tell me NOWWW" you start tickling her and she immediately yelps. "FINE! there's a clip of me talking to the chelsea girls about you and your music and they all tease me for fancying you" she says through gritted teeth. "no way, how have i not seen this?" you ask. "well i'm glad you haven't to be honest" she says. "so do you fancy me?" you smirk and if on cue, the uber pulls up in front of you. "saved by the bell" you say before turning to the uber. aggie lets you lead the way in first, you sit down and the confidence of asking the question had faded away and you were now panicking she might not actually like you or you'd been weird.
conversation does occur in the car but not as much as previously but energy levels were also lower than before. the driver pulls up to your flat first. as you were going to leave, aggie grabs your hand. "the answer is yes. by the way" she says and you're confused for a second before you remember what question she was referring to. you couldn't stop the smile that spread on your lips. "well my answer would be yes too" you say. "now go, you're gonna wreck my uber rating" aggie says as the driver huffed, bored of waiting. "sorry sorry yes, text me!" you say running inside. once you reach inside, you realise you didn't get her number but were too tired to deal with that right now so went to bed.
you wake up to your phone blowing up with notifications from your publicist, your friends and basically everyone you knew all addressing one thing...
you weren't surprised there was a lot of people there last night so the chance of someone being a journalist or selling the story was quite high. you didn't even want to stay on your phone, the messages overwhelming but one did catch your eye:
instagram
aggieebeeverjones
guessing you've seen the news...
she was the only person you replied to:
lol yes, i want a 50% cut of whatever the person that sold the story got
she replied almost straight away:
me too!! the audacity
i wasn't joking about them chelsea tickets btw, lmk if you wanna come and i'll link you up with tickets and maybe even some backstage access x
and safe to say this was the start of something special...
Summary: You're trying to get Aggie out of those Topps WEUROS packs.
Word count: 1.6k
Aggie stood in front of her apartment door. She knew that you wouldn't be greeting her at the door like usual. Aggie knew exactly where you would be. Aggie unlocked the door and stepped inside her apartment, and you were in fact not at the door or calling her name in a singing voice.
“Babe?” Aggie yelled from the hallway, dropping her bag on the ground of the hallway. You didn't answer because you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room, surrounded by Topps packs from the Euros. “Babe!” Aggie’s voice came again, this time closer to you. Aggie’s footsteps moved from the end of the hallway to the living room. She stopped at the open doorframe, leaning against it with an amused smile.
“C’mon!” You grumbled in frustration, throwing the cards you just packed in the air. Aggie’s eyes followed the cards that flew in the air, seeing them gently fall all around you. Aggie shook her head, a small smile dugging at her lips, as you dramatically let yourself fall on the ground. “How is it even possible?” You grunted with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest. “I have opened 300 packs, but no Aggie! Really?” You muttered, closing your eyes, the pout still on your lips.
You opened your eyes, but instead of looking at the ceiling, Aggie hovered over you, a smug smile on her lips. “Aggie!” You shot up, almost bumping your head against hers. “Hello.” Aggie smiled and took a seat next to you, once you had sat up properly. “How was training?” You asked, wrapping your arms around her neck, brushing your nose against hers.
Aggie let out a sigh, her arms wrapping around your waist, and you let your head rest on her shoulder. “Oh, you know the usual,” Aggie said with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Passing balls, scoring goals, and getting tackled.” You let out a snort, lifting your head so you could meet Aggie’s eyes once more. “You smell nice, though.” You said with a smile, as you took in the scent of Aggie’s shampoo.
“Good, because this is your shampoo.” You froze and sniffed again, and it was indeed your shampoo. “Aggie, that shampoo is expensive!” You whined. Aggie let out a laugh, kissing you softly. “I’ll buy you a new one, after you explain what the hell all of this is?” Aggie said and pulled back, gesturing to the mess that was still lying on the ground.
You looked at the ground, the sticker book, and stickers with players from different countries lying scattered around on the floor. “Aggie, you don't know what these are?” You uttered in disbelief, earning an eyebrow raise from Aggie, who indeed didn't know what those stickers meant. “No.” Aggie said hesitantly, while you picked a few stickers up from the ground.
You shoved a few stickers in Aggie’s hand so she could look at the stickers you had picked up. Aggie looked at the stickers one by one. “Babe, why do you have 4 Aitana stickers and 3 Alexia stickers?” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “I know!” You snapped, louder than you intended. Aggie held her arms up in defence that she didn't mean it in the wrong way.
“I got them double.” You muttered, dropping down and starting to pick up the other stickers. “I have everyone in this stupid book.” You muttered and held up the sticker book. “Everyone, except you.” Aggie shot her head up, raising an eyebrow at you. “So, let me get this right,” Aggie cleared her throat, handing you the rest of the stickers.
“You have been buying these because you want mine?” You nodded, and Aggie bit her lower lip to stiffen a laugh. “Don’t worry, you still have 5 boxes of those sticker packs to go.” You groaned when you looked at all those boxes, before walking into your girlfriend's arms, and Aggie couldn't hold back the laugh she had been trying to hold.
-------------
A week had passed, and Aggie had come home every day with you, surrounded by stickers. Aggie was just done with training and sat in her cubby in the locker room, her brows knitted together. “Aggie, what’s with the frown?” Wieke asked, taking a seat next to Aggie on the bench. “Nothing.” Aggie muttered, pulling on her sweater, after putting her hair in a loose bun.
“Aggie.” Wieke said, dragging out the name. “Fine, fine. y/n is obsessed with these, what are they called, topps stickers?” Aggie stated, not really knowing if she remembered it right. “Oh, those.” Aggie raised an eyebrow at Wieke. “Seriously, am I the only one who doesn’t know about these stickers?” Aggie groaned, letting her back rest against the wall.
“And y/n is trying to get me out of one of those packs, but no success so far.” Aggie said with a sigh, hearing Wieke laugh next to her. “I have your sticker for her.” Wieke reassured Aggie, who sat up straight. “Y-you do?” Aggie asked, turning her head to Wieke. “Wieke, I’m begging you, can I have that sticker?” Aggie begged, because she wanted her clingy and lovely girlfriend back to normal. “I think I have it in my bag, hold on.” Wieke thought out loud.
Wieke went through her bag, and after a few minutes, she took out a pack of stickers neatly stacked on top of each other. “And, here is your sticker.” Wieke handed Aggie her own sticker. “Wieke, I owe you!” Aggie practically yelled. She took her bag and ran out of the changing room. “What’s up with her?” Millie asked, after Aggie ran past her without a goodbye. Wieke shrugged with a laugh. “She’s going to make her girlfriend very happy.” Wieke stated, and Millie just nodded, not wanting to be in the middle of teenage love.
----------
Aggie entered her home and ran into the living room, seeing you again sitting on the floor with stickers. “Babe!” Aggie panted and walked toward you, but you were too busy with your packs. “y/n!” Aggie now yelled, and she finally got your attention. “Aggie!” You yelped, your hand on your chest.
“I have a surprise.” You raised an eyebrow, seeing the mischievous look in your girlfriend's eyes. “Okay?” You said hesitantly, turning to face her. “Close your eyes.” Aggie hurried you. “Aggie-” You tried to say, but Aggie gave you a look that said that it wasn’t a question. You sighed in defeat, closing your eyes reluctantly, hearing Aggie’s footsteps retreat into the house.
“Hands open.” Aggie declared. You eventually held your palms open and felt Aggie putting something in your hands. “Okay, open them.” You slowly opened your eyes, and they landed on the card in your hand.
“Surprise!” Aggie said with a smile, but you didn't smile. Aggie’s smile faltered, seeing that you didn’t look happy. “Are you okay?” Aggie asked, because this wasn’t the reaction that she wanted. “What is wrong with you?” Aggie took a step back, confused and startled at your reaction. “But that’s what you wanted.” Aggie said, her brows knitting in confusion.
“You’re unbelievable. ” You muttered, crumbling Aggie’s sticker and throwing it on the ground. “W-what-” Aggie shook her head, because she was really confused. “I thought you wanted my sticker?” You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Yes! But ‘I’ wanted to pack you!” You said in frustration, because that was the fun in it all. “Why does that matter?” You couldn’t believe that Aggie wasn’t getting the importance of it.
“You know what? You don’t get.” Aggie’s eyes looked for yours. Without saying a word, you walked out of the living room, leaving Aggie there, confused and in shock. “y/n!” Aggie finally moved, but your answer was the slam of the bedroom door. Aggie sighed heavily before falling back on the couch, dragging her hands down her face. “What did I do wrong?” Aggie asked out loud, staring at the ceiling.
Later, when it was starting to get late. Aggie started to make dinner. She was too busy at the stove, not noticing your footsteps behind her. Aggie tasted to pasta sauce, but then felt your arms wrap around her from behind, your chin resting on her shoulder. “Hey.” Aggie murmured, a small smile tugged at her lips.
“Baby,” You hummed softly, placing a kiss on Aggie’s neck. “I was cleaning up the stickers and found under the couch a closed pack. You must have missed it because of all the mess.” You pulled back slightly and saw the pack lying on the counter. You let go of Aggie’s waist and walked to the side of the counter where the package had been placed.
You didn't think much of it because Aggie would probably not be in it. You ripped it open. You had an Italian player, a Swedish player, a Welsh player, a Dutch and a Polish player. You groaned, but then you saw another card move behind the Polish one. You laid the other five cards down, and now in your hand was a special card with Aggie on it.
“Aggie!” You yelled and quickly moved to her side again. “What?” Aggie asked, as she turned her attention to you. “I have you! I got you!” You shrieked and kissed Aggie, who almost knocked the pan off the stove. “Really?” Aggie asked, her eyes wide.
“Look!” You said, holding out Aggie’s card. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry about how I acted earlier!” You apologized, kissing Aggie again. “Can you forgive me? I’m so sorry!” Aggie smiled before picking you up from the ground and spinning you in the middle of the kitchen. “You’re forgiven.” Aggie said with a smile and kissed you again, while placing you back on the ground.
“I only needed you.” You murmured against Aggie’s lips, before kissing her again, as Aggie chuckled against your lips. “I’m just happy that my girlfriend is happy again.” Aggie whispered, pulling back from the kiss and kissing the top of your nose. You giggled in her arms before hugging her, letting her hold you tightly.
Summary: You hated Aggie, and Aggie hated you, or was that just a lie that you both told yourself?
Warnings: Suggestive
Word count: 3.2k
It was the second match of the EUROs for your team. You won your first match with a 4-0 win, but this game was more difficult. It was more physical, with higher pressure from the opponent, and you had to defend more than in the last game. The game started rough. Your opponent, England, was fast with their passes and their turns.
You defended like you always did. Blocking shots, making perfect tackles inside of your penalty area. Your team was the ‘underdog’ in this group. But that did not mean that your team would bow that easily for the harder opponents. The first half ended with 0-0, so there was still a chance for your team to win, and you would do anything to try and win tonight.
England made a substitute at the beginning of the second half. You looked at the sideline and saw an English player, around your age, standing there. Her ponytail swung when she jumped in the air, her white jersey shining because of the sun that landed on it. You had heard of the player. Aggie Beever-Jones, Chelsea’s youngster and top striker, is coming in for Lauren James. You had seen Aggie play before. She could get out of the most difficult places, and her passing was good, just as good as her shooting.
When England made the substitution and both teams were ready, the referee blew the whistle, and the second half was underway. You kept your eyes on the ball, and you noticed that Aggie’s teammates always tried to find her because Aggie read the game like an open book.
The first time Aggie came through was after a sloppy ball from the midfield, so Aggie intercepted the pass immediately. She only needed to turn once, and she had the midfield all for herself. Aggie ran straight at you, so you did what you always did: move up and slide towards the ball. You made contact with the ball, and it rolled to one of your teammates.
Aggie tumbled forward and fell over you, clutching her leg, hoping that the referee saw it as a foul, but the referee let the game continue. You looked at her for a quick second, but she only gave you an angry look before picking herself up from the ground. The second time Aggie came close to your box was when a high ball got shot over your defense. You quickly started to run back, and you were now shoulder to shoulder with the English striker, who tried to keep the ball at her feet.
Aggie tapped the ball too far, giving you the opportunity to slide in front of the ball and stop the attack again. “Ref!” Aggie yelled when she was on the ground, her arms wide and looking at the referee, who only gave Aggie the sign to stand up again. Aggie scoffed in disbelief before walking out of the offside position she was in after your tackle. You were proud of yourself that you managed to stop the Chelsea striker for the second time, and you would do that every time.
The match continued; both teams had scored, and England was starting to press more. You knew that your team was getting slower and couldn’t get off your own half. Minutes passed on, and then, after another sloppy ball from one of your teammates, Aggie had the ball again and all the space to move forward. The midfielders were too slow to catch up with her, so she ran straight at you again.
You held your ground and kept looking at the ball. Aggie tried to move past you with a nutmeg, but you tapped the ball away, and this time you felt yourself hitting the shin of the English striker. Aggie fell to the ground and held her shin. The whistle blew, and you couldn’t believe that the referee would blow for a foul. “No, no, no! It was on the ball!” You yelled at the referee while Aggie stood up and bumped your shoulder, and you lost your balance at the contact.
Before you could even stop yourself, you shoved Aggie back, but she was in your face within seconds. “Get your hands off me!” Aggie yelled, her hands pushing yours away. “That was a clear foul!” Aggie yelled again, and you let out a scoff, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t!” You shot back, your eyes never leaving hers. “If you can’t handle the contact, maybe try a different sport!” Aggie narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, both of you got pulled back. Aggie by her captain, and you by your own.
“Aggie, stop!” You heard the English captain say, still holding Aggie back. “What? That’s the third foul she made on me! I’m not standing by and letting her get away with it!” Aggie argued back; her patience was boiling over. “I know, but screaming in her face is not going to change anything.” Leah's voice was calmer now, her hands resting on Aggie's shoulders. Aggie's chest rose and fell, but her breathing calmed. “Just get into position for the free kick.” Leah said with a sigh.
Aggie glared at you for a beat, then turned on her heel and walked back into position. “y/n!” You snapped your head back, meeting the eyes of your own captain. “That was reckless and not necessary!” Amber yelled, and you frowned because it was necessary. “It was a one-on-one situation. What should I have done? Let her pass me?” Amber shook her head with a heavy sigh. “No. But you are a smart defender and not some reckless one, so you knew what to do in the situation.” You closed your eyes briefly and opened them again before nodding.
You walked into position, and the only free opponent was Aggie. You stood behind her, nudging her every now and then, just trying to get her out of focus. The match ended in a narrow defeat for you. The final score was 3-2 for England, with Aggie scoring a last-minute banger in the corner of the goal. The two of you didn’t shake hands at the end, and you didn’t bother to glance at her. You have hated a lot of people in your life, but Aggie was on another level of hate.
The quick elimination of your team at EURO’s was a big pill to swallow for you. Everyone had hoped that you would get further than the group stages, but after the match with England, your team lost the other two matches. But there was one thing that came out of it. You got an offer from one of the best football clubs, Chelsea. They found your defending amazing and how you commanded your defenders.
So here you were. Your first day at Chelsea. You had done everything that you needed to do, but now you were going to meet your new teammates. You moved through the hallways in your blue training kit for Chelsea. You reached the common room, and there were already a few players. You scanned the room, and your eyes landed on Aggie, who was talking with another blonde player, Wieke, if you remembered correctly. You knew what you signed up for when you signed for Chelsea.
You would be teammates with Aggie from now on, and the two of you needed to find a way to have a good relationship with each other. If not for your and Aggie’s sake, then for the team’s. You moved further into the room, not looking at Aggie the whole time, but Aggie would glance at you every now and then, a bit longer than necessary, but you did not notice. Aggie didn’t know what it was, but you looked more friendly off the field than on the field.
Months passed, and you settled great in North London. You and Aggie didn’t exchange words much off the field, but the tension that was at EURO’s wasn’t there. It hadn’t disappeared either, but it was calmer. Your first few trainings went well; you did what Chelsea brought you to do. Defend like you did at the EURO’s and command your teammates where necessary.
The silent truce between you and Aggie didn’t last long; during a 5v5, you made a clean tackle on the ball, not caring how Aggie would land. You quickly stood up and concentrated back on the exercise, but Aggie stayed on the ground, furious at how reckless you were. Aggie quickly stood up and ran towards you when you had the ball. You were about to pass the ball, but Aggie blocked the ball from behind you, and her studs landed on your foot.
You winced and fell on the ground, your hand clutching your foot. You furiously looked up to meet Aggie, but she was already chasing the ball. Sonia looked from the sidelines and looked worried every time you and Aggie interacted, and not in a teammate interaction kind of way. The training continued; you and Aggie had a few more tackles against each other, and every time, you would glance angrily at Aggie when she would tackle you, and Aggie did the same to you.
After training was done, you sat in the locker room. You had showered, and you were putting the last things in your bag. You heard the faucet in the shower turning off and the bare feet on the wet tiles. You didn’t need to look up; you knew that it was Aggie, who was done showering. You stood up and turned your back to her, but your eyes landed on her through the mirror.
Your eyes couldn’t move away; they stayed locked on the bare back of Aggie. You saw her muscled shoulders and how she slowly dried her back with the towel before wrapping it around herself. You had been staring at Aggie for the last couple of months, as much as you hated to admit it, but Aggie is hot. You hated yourself even more when you always stared at her, but you didn’t know that she would stare at you as well when you weren’t looking. You didn’t know what changed.
Maybe it was how Aggie laughed so brightly? Maybe it was her blue eyes that were clear, like a summer sky, or it was the way she moved and always knew what to do. You, on the other hand, were so confused; months ago, Aggie was on your most hated list, but now you didn’t know what list you needed to put her. You looked back into the mirror and saw Aggie taking off the towel, and for a split second, your eyes met, and you felt your cheeks go bright red, and you turned your head quickly away.
Aggie took a seat on the bench, fully naked, and starts to dry her legs and feet. You feel your heart hammer in your chest and see from the corner of your eye Aggie smirking, clearly satisfied that she caught you staring. “Jesus, you are practically drooling.” The cocky voice of Aggie filled the room, and you felt your cheeks go red. “I-I wasn’t—” You couldn’t get your words out, your brain short-circuiting a little.
“Sure, you weren’t. I could see you dress me and take my clothes off again with your eyes.” You opened your mouth but closed it again, not knowing how to respond to that. You still had your back to Aggie, but then you heard her footsteps closing in on you. Your eyes looked at the mirror and saw Aggie walking slowly towards you, like a lion sneaking up on its prey. Within seconds, you feel Aggie's presence behind you. Your back was still turned to her, but Aggie spins you around gently and corners you against the wall next to the mirror, her hands at either side of your head.
Your faces are inches apart; you could almost feel the smirk on Aggie's lips on your jaw. Without thinking, you looked at her arms, tracing the purple veins up to her shoulders. You looked away, but Aggie turned your head with two fingers on your jaw, forcing you to meet her eyes again. “Uh-uh, no looking away when I’m literally standing inches away from you.” Aggie murmured, her lips brushing your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.
You heard the soft growl leaving Aggie's throat; she was loving that she had this effect on you. Aggie leans in; you part your lips in anticipation, and your noses brush. But then Aggie pulls back, still the same smirk on her lips. “Maybe next time,” Aggie whispered, her lips against your ear. “I will kiss you.” You froze, and Aggie walked away, leaving you completely speechless against the wall, and you heard Aggie's footsteps fading into the distance.
It has been a week since your moment with Aggie in the locker room, and you haven’t been thinking straight ever since. You sat in the booth of a bar; the team was celebrating a win over Arsenal. The bar was buzzing, with chatter all around you, music blaring out of the boxes, and people drinking beer. You had a drink in your hand, but it was still full.
“Are you drinking that or what?” You heard Niamh yell in your ear, earning a chuckle from you, and you took a small sip from your drink. Your eyes scanned the bar. Teammates were scattered around the bar. Some participated in a drinking game, others were darting, and others were just talking with a beer in their hands. “Aggie is at it again!” You frowned when Sam said that; your eyes followed the gaze of everyone else.
Aggie was sitting there, just a few inches away from a girl at the bar. Aggie put her hand on the girl's hip and leaned closer. Your jaw clenched, your fingers tightened on the beer in your hand, and your knuckles turned white. Everyone else at the booth let out whistles and ‘oeh’s’ when Aggie leaned in once again.
You scoffed before muttering, “She can barely hold her position on the field, let alone keep a girl.” Everyone at the table went quiet and turned their head to you, but you just shrugged your shoulders. “What? She always moves to the midfield, even if she is a striker.” You stated, taking another sip from your drink, your eyes darting to Aggie.
The night continued, and after a while, Aggie walked to your booth, hand in hand with the girl she was so close to at the bar. Before Aggie could pass the booth, you took her wrist under the table, quiet but firm. Aggie looks at you, knowing full well what she has been doing. “Really?” You muttered, and Aggie gave you a look, meaning she didn’t know what you were talking about.
“We’re doing this now?” Aggie just shrugged her shoulders before leaning down, her mouth near your ear. “You started this. By staring at me in the locker room, remember?” Your body froze, and Aggie pulled her wrist back from your hold and left with the girl to the dance floor. You still sat in the booth, your eyes on Aggie, who was dancing close to a girl, and they were whispering things to one another. Aggie's eyes met yours; your jaw was tight when Aggie kept looking at you, her hands moving from the girl's waist to her ass.
You looked away and chugged your beer down. Aggie smirked at you before she placed kisses on the girl's neck. “Anyone want a new beer?” You offered the girls near you, and they handed their empty glasses to you before you left the booth for the bar. Aggie, her eyes found you, moving slowly through the busy bar. Aggie smiled proudly because she had wrapped you around her fingers, right where she wanted you.
When you returned and set the beers on the table, you caught a glimpse of Aggie leaving alone to the restroom, and you didn’t hesitate. You offered quick ‘you’re welcomes’ to your teammates before heading to the restroom. You move quickly through the crowd and eventually reach the restroom door. You walked in and saw Aggie casually leaning against the wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest and staring at the floor, like she already knew that you would follow her.
“Took you long enough.” Aggie hummed, not bothering to look up, already knowing it was you who barged in. You didn’t speak, your hands fisted at your sides, while Aggie moved to the sink and leaned back against it. “You didn’t like seeing me with her?” Aggie asked innocently, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Don’t start.” You said, almost in a growl, and you stared her down. “You knew I was watching. You wanted me to see.” Your voice was low, and your eyes narrowed, Aggie, who was still leaning against the sink.
“I do have to admit,” Aggie started as she was looking at her nails. “Jealousy looks pretty good on you.” Aggie dropped her hand and looked straight into your eyes. Aggie still had the mischievous look in her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.” Your voice was low again, and you took a step forward, your eyes never leaving hers. “You’re looking at me like you want to slam me into a wall.” You stopped walking, and the two of you stood face-to-face, both feeling the tension in the small space between your bodies.
“What? No sna—” Before Aggie could get the rest of the sentence out, your lips crashed onto hers, a low groan leaving your throat. Aggie moaned in the kiss and leaned into your body, forcing you to take a few steps back. The kiss never breaks as Aggie presses you against the wall across from the sink, her teeth biting on your lower lip. Your back hit the wall with a thud, and Aggie's mouth moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving you breathing heavily, your hands on her shoulders.
“I really wish I hated you.” You breathed out and felt Aggie smirk against your neck. She moved her head up, your eyes meeting again. “We both know,” Aggie started, her voice husky, and kissed the corner of your mouth. “that we never hated each other.” You huffed, and Aggie kissed you again, softer and slower, like she was savoring the taste of your lips. “God, you are so sure of yourself.” You hummed but quickly moaned when Aggie bit your lip and eased the sting with her tongue.
You parted your lips and let Aggie explore your mouth; your nails dug into her neck, making Aggie groan a little. She finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, her hands loosely on your waist now. You both looked in the mirror now, both your lips swollen and red, and for the first time that night, both of you laughed softly. “What now?” You asked softly, your head resting on her shoulder. “We see where this- us go.” You nodded, and Aggie pulled you into a hug. You never would’ve thought that the person you hated would end up being your favorite person, and you honestly didn’t mind it.
Summary: You are known for not committing to relationships, but what if you want to change your whole lifestyle for your rival's club, Chelsea's rising star?
Word count: 11.1k
A/N: I got a bit carried away with this one haha🤭😭
It was late in the evening when you woke up. The outside of the house was still dark. You quietly picked up your phone from the nightstand to check the time. You dimmed the brightness and looked at the time. It was 2:45 to be exact. You let out a yawn and looked to your left. There was a brunette woman.
She was still asleep, the covers barely covering anything. You smiled to yourself. It was a good night. You went to a bar, got at least six free beers from different women (but declined them all), and you got laid. What a wonderful day to be alive. You silently slipped out of the bed and searched for your clothes. They were scattered all around the floor. You smiled to yourself; you were so eager to get the woman out of her clothes that you didn't care where your or her clothes landed.
You pulled your sweater over your head. You gave one last look over your shoulder at the woman. You let out a sigh. You hated to admit it, but the woman was pretty, but you never really settled down. In your opinion, relationships were messy. You always tell the women that you sleep with that it's just for fun, no strings attached. You just want to have a good night, nothing more and nothing less. You slowly opened the bedroom door and slipped through, closing it behind you with the softest click ever.
You walked through the hallway and walked into the kitchen. You took a paper and a pen and wrote a message for the woman, like you always did. You may sleep around a lot, but you weren't someone who never let them hear from you again. You wrote your usual message, "I had a lot of fun, thanks for the night." You placed the paper on the counter and headed for the door. You slipped on your jacket. You took a quick look in the mirror to check if you could walk on the street after the night, not that anybody would be up around now.
You let out a heavy sigh. Today was going to be a long day. You played for Arsenal; it is your second season with the Gunners, and they are still in the running for the league title, the FA Cup, the Subway cup, and the Champions League. In a few days, you and Arsenal needed to play the second half of the quarter-finals against Chelsea. Arsenal had won the first leg 3-1 at home, so in the second leg, they just needed to defend, and the job would be done to go through to the semi-finals against either Lyon or Wolfsburg.
You walked through the empty streets of London. You figured that nobody would be out tonight, and you had made it later than usual. Usually, you would call a cab, but your apartment was only a few blocks away, so that would be a waste of money.
You arrived at your apartment 15 minutes later. You unlocked the front door and let it close behind you. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. You kicked off your shoes and placed them next to the other shoes. You looked at the clock, and it was 5:00 AM. You let out a sound that was half a groan and half a sigh.
It was no use going to bed; you needed to be up at 6:00 AM, anyway, so you just walked to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee. An hour had passed, and you were now making a bag ready for the day. Eventually, you heard the footsteps of your roommate. "Good morning." You turned around, and there stood your best friend, vice captain of Arsenal, and captain of the Lionesses. "Morning," you said, yawn, while stretching. Leah looked at the coffee cup on the coffee table, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Who was it this time? The flower girl?" Leah asked as she walked to the kitchen counter and began making herself some tea. "Nah, she has found her soulmate," You said, making brackets in the air at the word 'soulmate'. You didn't believe in that shit. That the universe had ensured that everyone would eventually find love; that's fucking crap, in your opinion.
"Okay, if it's not the flower girl, then who was it?" Leah asked, pouring hot water into her mug. "I don't know," You said. You rubbed the back of your neck because Leah had taken you under her wings when you transferred from the Netherlands, and she had never liked that you slept around. Still, she also knew that you were an adult (questionable) and could make your own decisions (also questionable).
Leah just shook her head, blowing into her mug. "I just hope that you will behave, I don't ever want to walk in on you making out in the kitchen with one of the media persons of today. I still can't get that image out of my head from last year." You winced at the memory. It had been your first season, and after the media day, you got along with one of the journalists, and one thing led to another, like usual.
You had just sat the woman down on the counter when Leah walked in, and she literally screamed, her hands covering her face. "I promise, I'll behave." Leah eyed you for a full 5 seconds before muttering something under her breath and disappearing into her room again. You shook your head and turned your attention back to packing your bag.
An hour later, your bag was packed, and you were now waiting at the door. Leah had to grab something real quick. The two of you have always driven together ever since you moved in. "Leah!" You yelled from the hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through your phone. "Yeah, yeah!" Leah yelled back. A few seconds passed, but then Leah finally walked into the hallway, her bag slung over her shoulder.
"Finally," You said, and pushed yourself off the wall, and pretended that you had aged a lot, just to tease Leah that she took so long. "Don't be dramatic," Leah muttered and opened the door. You quickly followed, closing and locking the door behind you. You followed Leah out of the building and to her car. You could tell that Leah wanted to ask questions. She has practically become your mother ever since you joined Arsenal, and she acted like it as well.
She was always telling you to pack your bag the night before, and as a stubborn teenager, you never listened, so you always had to hurry in the mornings, which made you forget things Leah needed to remind you to take. "Leah, if you want to ask questions, just do it," you said with a sigh as you dropped yourself into the passenger seat. "What makes you think I want to ask you about how you spent your wild nights?" Leah fired back. Her voice wasn't angry or anything, but you could tell she wasn't happy with how you spent your nights so late.
"My wild nights? They aren't even wild, I just-" You tried to say, but Leah cut you off with a scoff. "Not- not wild nights? y/n, you come home late almost every night of the week, except for the nights before a match, that's not something everyone your age does," Leah said. You wanted to say something in your defense, but Leah wasn't done. "I've been trying to be okay with it, but-" Leah cut herself off by taking a deep breath.
"But, what?" You asked. "But I worry every night. I know I always scold you like a child, but you're my friend as well, and I worry about what my friends do," Leah confessed, her voice much more like her usual voice. Your eyes softened, and a small smile formed on your lips. "I know, and I love that you worry about me, but you also have to let me live my life, okay?" You said, turning your head to face Leah. Leah let out a soft chuckle and started the engine.
"I'll do my best," Leah eventually muttered and put the car in reverse, and drove out of the parking lot. "Can we stop by a coffee shop?" You asked once you were on the road. "Why? If this is because you need to catch up with one of the girls you sleep around with-" Leah started, warning you that she will not stop at a coffee shop for that. You shook your head immediately.
"No, it's not that, I promise. I just need coffee in my system," You said and typed in the address of your favorite coffee shop on Google Maps. "Oh, sure, y/n, of course we can go to your favorite coffee shop, how thoughtful of you to wait for my reply," Leah said sarcastically, because she hadn't even said yes yet, but you had already typed in the address. You gave her a cheeky smile and leaned back into your seat.
After 10 minutes, Leah parked the car and shut off the engine. "Let's go!" You said and jumped out of the car. Leah followed, shutting her door and locking the car. The two of you walked into the coffee shop, the smell of coffee hitting you immediately. The two of you waited in line just like the other customers. You were scrolling absently through your phone when Leah nudged you. You looked up, giving Leah a confused frown.
"What?" You muttered as you put your phone in the pocket of your track pants. "The woman behind the counter has been eyeing you ever since you walked in," Leah muttered. You subtly turned your head so that you could get a clear look at the woman Leah mentioned. "Do you know her?" Leah asked, but she already knew the answer. You closed your eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Know is a strong word," You muttered as you rubbed the back of your neck, glancing once more at the woman behind the register. Leah raised an eyebrow, silently telling you to elaborate on that. "Fine, I slept with her," You muttered again, facing Leah fully now. "I swear, she isn't the reason that I wanted to come here," You told Leah. "I didn't even know she worked here," You continued. Leah was always a hard person to read, but you saw the look in her eyes, the look that meant that she didn't fully believe you.
Leah let out a sigh while she shook her head. The line moved, so you and Leah walked forward. "Good morning, what-" The woman behind the register stopped herself when her eyes landed on you. You winced lightly when you saw the look in the woman's eyes. It was pure anger and disgust toward you. Leah stayed silent, observing you and the woman.
"Look who it is? The woman who left in the middle of the night after we slept together, and the one I told about how my previous partner left me, only to leave me the same way," The woman hummed, it wasn't an amused hum, not in the slightest. Leah cleared her throat and just ordered your coffee and hers, and once the two of you got your order, you quickly left the shop.
"Is there anyone you haven't slept with and pissed off?" Leah asked once the two of you got back to the car. You sat again in the passenger seat. You closed your eyes, letting your head rest against the headrest of your seat. "It isn't like that," You muttered eventually, tracing the edge of your cup with your thumb. "I met her in a bar a few weeks back. She had had a shitty week," You explained, looking down into your coffee. Leah didn't interrupt; she just started the car and drove off.
"She approached me, we talked, had a few drinks, and at the end of the night, she invited me to her home, and- I think you can fill the rest in for yourself," You whispered, as you brought the cup to your lips. "What did she mean about her previous partner?" Leah eventually asked. She had one hand on the steering wheel, and, with the other, she was drinking her coffee. Leah had an automatic car, so she technically only needed one hand to drive.
"That night at the bar, she had told me that her partner had left without a word, and she never heard of them again. So, she stalked her ex-partner's socials, only to find out that he had left her for another woman." Leah let out an impressed whistle, which earned an unimpressed look from you.
You fell into a silence. You looked out the window, watching the city pass by. The radio was playing some old music. "What do you need to do today? Like, media-wise?" You asked after a few minutes of silence, and you turned your head to look at Leah. "Just some interviews, nothing exciting," Leah replied as she turned to wheel to take a left. "How about you?" You shrugged lightly. You also had some interviews, but nothing really exciting.
After a few minutes, Leah drove up to the parking lot of the training ground. The parking lot was already full of cars from teammates. Yep, it was definitely media day. Leah parked the car, shut off the engine, and stepped out. You grabbed your bag from the backseat. You waited for Leah, who was on her phone, typing something. "Who are you texting?" You asked. Leah looked up, giving you a small smile.
"Some of my English teammates are throwing a party. You should tag along," Leah suggested. You shook your head because last time you checked, you didn't play for the Lionesses. "Eumh, why?" You asked in confusion, because you planned just to go out by yourself and see if you could have some fun tonight.
"Why not? It's fun. You'll get to meet new people, and I can keep an eye on you," Leah stated. For her, this was a win-win situation. "You just want to make sure that I end up being laid tonight," You muttered, as you started to walk to the building. Leah walked next to you, letting out a sigh. "C'mon, y/n. Just come, and if you really don't like it, you can leave, I promise," Leah told you. You searched Leah's face for any other emotion, but there wasn't one.
"Fine, I'll come," You eventually said with a sigh. "Yesss!" Leah yelled, fist bumping the air. "You won't regret it," Leah said cheerfully, wrapping her arm around your neck. "I'm regretting it already," You muttered, pushing Leah's arm off of your shoulder. The two of you walked into the building where all the media days were held. Most of your teammates who were already there had their jerseys on.
"Uh oh," Chloe said when she got a good look at your face. "Looks like you had a late night." You gave Chloe a flat look because it was pretty clear. She didn't need to point it out. "It looks like you had only two hours of sleep," Chloe said in a teasing tone.
"More like, no sleep at all," Leah muttered beside you, earning a glare from you. Chloe eyed the two of you, suspicion already bubbling. "Don't," You said, glaring at Chloe now. "I'm not saying anything," Chloe said, the high pitch in her tone, giving her away that she was definitely about to say something. "I'm going to change," You muttered and turned around, and could clearly hear Chloe giggle behind you. "So," Chloe said when she was sure you were out of earshot.
"What?" Leah asked, letting out a heavy sigh. It was the kind of sigh that came from someone whose patience had been pushed to the limit. "You look like you have aged 20 years," Chloe stated simply, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "It's just- it's y/n," Leah muttered, dragging her hands down her face. "That much I gathered." Leah gave Chloe a look that could cut through glass. "It's just- every night, except for nights before matchdays, y/n comes home late, like, really, really late," Leah explained.
"Aahh," Chloe only said, nodding in understanding. "I just don't get it," Leah eventually said, earning a confused look from Chloe. "Get what?" Leah sighed again. "Why y/n doesn't just get in a relationship?" Leah said, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Leah, some people just don't want to, and you can't force them," Chloe reasoned, patting Leah's shoulder and walking away.
Media days had two sides, well, at least for you. You always hated the interviews. They always had the same questions, and you needed to hear them for six hours straight. It was so exhausting. But on the other side, you would meet interesting women who get flustered far too easily, but not today. You had promised Leah you would behave and stay on her good side because you still needed to be around her tonight.
You had regretted agreeing to come with her to a party when she had brought it up, and now, after a whole day being interviewed, you still regretted it, but there was nothing you could do about it. You sat in the locker room. You had changed into the outfit you were going to wear for the dinner. You were putting the last things in your bag when Leah entered. "So, are you ready?" Leah asked with a smile. You turned around to look at Leah, giving her your fakest smile you could ever imagine.
"Let me see, going to a party where I don't know most of the people? Yeah, I'm ready," You said sarcastically. Leah tried to keep herself from laughing, but failed miserably. "Y/n, I assure you, you will be just fine, don't worry," Leah reassured you. "Somehow, I'd doubt that," you muttered, and took your bag from the bench.
"Okay, let's go. You can mope in the car," Leah said and headed to the door. "I'm not moping," You said defensively and followed Leah out of the room. Leah only laughed at your response. "Who is going to be at the party?" You asked as you walked next to Leah. "Oh, just a few of the English girls, you'll get along with them, don't worry," Leah reassured you. You shook your head with a smile and followed Leah to the car.
"Whose party is it anyway?" You asked, taking a seat in the passenger seat. "Aggie, she turned 23 a few days back, and wanted to throw a party to celebrate it," Leah explained as she drove off the parking lot and onto the quiet streets of North London. "Will there be at least a few of the Arsenal girls as well?" You asked, because if not, it would be a very awkward night for you. You had heard of Aggie and had played against her on multiple occasions, but you had never really exchanged words.
"Oh yeah, some Arsenal girls will be there," Leah told you as she drove. You let out a heavy sigh. This was going to be one hell of a night. The rest of the drive was like usual, you looking out the window, while Leah was driving with both hands on the wheel.
"And we're here," Leah announced as she parked the car. You stretched yourself with a yawn. You looked at the house. It looks cozy. You assumed that Aggie lived with a few teammates because living in a house in London by yourself is completely different from living in an apartment. You looked at the house. You could see the silhouettes of people in the house through the window. The music wasn't loud, but you could hear the light thump of music from where you were standing.
You opened the car door and stepped out, the cool evening air hitting your face. It helped make you aware not to fall asleep right there on the pavement. At this moment, you really regret not having slept at all the night before, but all the caffeine you had throughout the day, luckily, kept you standing and functioning.
Leah rounded the car so she was standing in front of you. "Remember," Leah said, pointing a finger at you as she locked the car. "Behave." You placed a hand over your heart, mocking sincerity written all over your face. "I always behave." Leah let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "That's what worries me." You stuck your tongue out at her and followed her to the house.
The two of you walked the short distance from the parking spot to the front door. Leah couldn't even knock. Her hand was halfway to the door when it swung open. You assumed that someone had seen the two of you arrive just now. "Leah!" Grace Clinton cheered, pulling Leah into a hug. You just greeted Grace with a slight nod when Grace looked at you. You stood there in the hallway. Hands in your pockets and your eyes going over the room.
Near the wall, a few people were playing darts; on the couch, others were playing cards; and scattered around the room, groups were just talking. You spotted a few of your Arsenal teammates around the room, just as Leah said they would be. Your eyes wandered to the kitchen, and you completely stilled. The noise from the other people faded into the background when your eyes landed on a blonde woman in the kitchen, preparing snacks, you assumed.
You knew that was Aggie. Just because you never really had a conversation with her doesn't mean you didn't know who she was. You tilted your head a little when Aggie laughed at something that someone next to her said. You felt something form in your stomach, something you had never felt before. Sure, you had met hot women before—a lot of them. You had flirted, charmed, left, repeated. But this–felt like something you had never felt, but you couldn't quite place what that feeling was.
You didn't even realize you were staring until Leah's voice cut through your thoughts. "Don't." You blinked, turning your head to her. "Don't what?" Leah followed what your eyes were staring at and immediately sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she already knew what was going through your mind. "Her," Leah said, her voice changed, it was firm and sure. "Not her." You frowned slightly, your eyes wandering to Aggie again. "What?" Leah hesitated, searching for the right words.
"She is–she's not like the others," You huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "You say that like I'm hunting them." Leah didn't laugh; her face turned dead serious. That was your first clue that this was going to be different. "I'm serious y/n," Leah said, her voice lower, but still even and grounded. "Aggie is–she's kind. She actually cares. And she doesn't deserve to be just another one of your 'good nights' and not be looked at after." The words weren't harsh, but they stung anyway.
You looked at Aggie again. She looked so different then when she's on the football field—running at defenders, scoring goals. You were seeing her in a whole new light, and every time you looked at her, your stomach did the weird thing, a feeling that you had never felt before.
"I wasn't planning anything," You eventually muttered, quieter now. Leah raised an eyebrow. "You're looking at her like you have already planned out three different scenarios." You shook your head and let out a scoff, but didn't respond. Because, annoyingly enough, she wasn't wrong. Leah let out a sigh, resting her hand on your arm briefly. "Just.. don't mess things up before they even start." You frowned at that, but before you could ask what it was supposed to mean, Leah got dragged by someone further into the room, pulling her into another conversation.
And just like that, you were alone again, your eyes drifting to Aggie once more. She was now laughing with a drink in hand. You looked happy when you saw that Aggie was talking to Wieke, your teammate on the Dutch national team. You observed them for a few more seconds, but then Wieke left, leaving Aggie alone in the kitchen. Bingo. You walked normally to the kitchen.
You were behaving. You were just going to wish the birthday girl a happy birthday. The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the house, the music more muffled, replaced by the soft clatter of plates and the sound of bags of snacks being opened. It felt like stepping out of the chaos, like a match was at half-time.
As you entered the kitchen, you leaned against the doorframe when you got a good view of the blonde standing behind the counter. Aggie had pushed her sleeves lightly up, a small frown between her brows. She was so focused, like she was about to take a penalty and throw the keeper off their game.
Aggie took another plate from the stack and put some fruit on it. Eventually, you cleared your throat and took a step closer into the kitchen until you stood across from Aggie on the opposite side of the counter. You had done this a hundred times before. Spotting someone alone in a bar, approach them, give them your usual smile, say something flirty, and if Leah was right, then you should have this one in the bag with how Aggie is.
"Bit of a shame, you know," You finally said, your voice low, a small smile on your lips. Aggie looked up immediately, a bit startled at first, but then recognition settled. "Hmm?" Aggie hummed softly. You nodded lightly to the living room. "Throwing a party in the living room, while the host is hiding in the kitchen? Not very host-like." You teased. You smiled sheepishly and lowered your voice even more. This was usually it; people would blush or start stuttering over their words.
But Aggie was apparently different; she just gave you a small smile, easy and unbothered, and wasn't affected by your words at all. "Someone has to make sure people actually eat something, because only drinking alcohol the whole night on an empty stomach is a no-go." You let out a chuckle, shaking your head lightly. You walked around the counter until you stood next to Aggie.
You leaned with your hip against the counter, a little closer to Aggie than necessary. "And here I thought you just needed a break from all the attention," You stated, your voice still low. You almost whispered it in Aggie's ear. What Aggie did next was something you didn't expect. She just turned around and opened a cabinet to get more bowls. You were stunned. This was new. Aggie shrugged lightly, putting the bowl down on the counter. "I don't mind it. I just… like doing it." You tilted your head a little, studying her for a second. Most people would've bounced off on it.
Flirt back, tease back, but Aggie–she either doesn't give in or it goes right over her head that you are flirting (trying) with her. "Happy birthday, by the way," You said. Aggie's face softened, giving you a small smile. "Thanks. Could you maybe take this to the living room?" You looked at the filled plate and nodded. "Yeah, of course," You said and walked out of the kitchen. Aggie completely threw you off your game. You just shook your head and walked further to the living room.
The shift from the kitchen to the living room was immediate. The music got louder, and the conversations came from all different directions. You balanced the plates in your arms, but before you could walk further, Leah's voice was behind you. "Oh, my god." You froze, slowly turned around, and were met by Leah. She was standing a few steps away, her arms crossed, a drink in her hand, and she looked at you like you had committed a crime in broad daylight.
"What?" You said, a bit too defensively. Leah didn't answer immediately; she just took a sip from the drink in her hand, stretching the moment, just to make it worse. "Why," She eventually said, her eyes leaving yours to look at the plates in your hands, "are you holding snacks?" She tilted her head lightly, a frown between her brows. You glanced down at your hands, as if you had completely forgotten to have plates in your hands. Right, the plates, fuck.
"They're–snacks," You said, nodding once, like that would explain everything. "Brilliant observation," Leah deadpanned without blinking. "Care to explain why you are holding them?" You shifted your weight lightly; you felt like prey trapped. "Aggie asked me to bring them out; she was still busy with the other snacks." It was technically not a lie, just not the full truth. Leah's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a second, she just looked at you. It was extremely uncomfortable because you knew that Leah knew that you were lying.
You cleared your throat, trying to look as casual as possible. "What? I can't help out?" Leah took another sip of her drink, watching you over the rim of the glass. "Of course you can," She said slowly, "It's just…fascinating." You frowned at that. "Fascinating?" You repeated. "Mhm." She nodded lightly. "Because the entire time I've known you, I've never seen you carry anything voluntarily that didn't directly benefit you." You scoffed lightly because you were really offended by that.
"That's not true," You said, too fast and far too defensively. Leah only needed to raise an eyebrow. "Okay… maybe a little," You admitted softly, looking down at the plates in your hands. Leah hummed in satisfaction, like she had proven she was right all along in an argument. Her gaze flickered quickly to the kitchen, then back at you. "How long were you in there?" She asked.
You shrugged as best as you could with your shoulders, because you were afraid to drop all the plates. "I don't know. Maybe a few minutes." Leah took a few steps closer, so you were now more at a conversation distance. "And how did that go?" Your grip tightened on the plates just lightly because Leah was using that tone, that tone you never liked she used. She usually used it on the field and not off it.
"Fine," you said a little too quickly. "It was just a normal conversation." Leah didn't respond, which was worse because silence meant that Leah didn't believe for a second what you were saying. Leah's eyes narrowed just slightly, like the final puzzle piece finally made sense. "Oh, my god," Leah muttered, almost to herself. You frowned and met Leah's eyes, giving her a confused look.
"What?" Leah's expression shifted, the suspicion melting into something far more dangerous. Amusement. You placed the plates at the nearest table, and a few people immediately took some snacks. You tried to look at them for the longest time, hoping that Leah would somehow disappear into thin air. But, of course, that wouldn't happen; that kind of wishing only happened in movies, and this wasn't a movie. "No, way," Leah said, a grin started to pull at her lips.
"You did not." You crossed your arms defensively. "Did not what?" Leah let out a short laugh, shaking her head like she couldn't quite believe what she was witnessing. "You flirted with her." It wasn't a question; she was simply stating a fact. You opened your mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Leah's grin widened just slightly. You scoffed immediately. "I didn't-"
"You did," Leah cut in, pointing at you like she just solved a mystery. "And Aggie didn't get flustered or anything, did she?" Your silence that followed was enough, which only made Leah's grin go wider and wider. "No," You said finally, trying to recover, to the harsh truth Leah had just figured out. "That's not- she just-" before you could even say anything else, Leah's laugh cut you off. "Oh, my," Leah laughed, fully now, the sound bright and unrestrained. Leah wasn't even trying at this point. "Aggie shut you down." Leah couldn't stop laughing.
"She did not shut me down," You snapped, crossing your arms tighter in front of your chest. You let out a huff, looking away. "She just didn't pick up on the flirting." Leah blinked once, twice. And then burst out with laughter once again. You shot her an unimpressed look. "Glad you're enjoying this." Leah gave you the fakest, most sincere look there was. "I'm not, I feel so bad for you." You just gave Leah another hard glare.
"I told you, Aggie isn't like the other women you sleep around with." And with that, Leah walked away laughing. You could tell from just watching her back that Leah was wiping the tears from her eyes. You let out a sigh, glancing at the kitchen, but couldn't see Aggie from where you were standing.
For the rest of the night, you stood where you had been standing after Leah had practically laughed in your face. You were leaning against the wall, a glass of water in your hand. Your eyes scanned the room. Leah got pulled to the couch, where people were still playing cards. You let out a sigh, and your eyes drifted automatically to the kitchen. Aggie had been going in and out of the kitchen the whole night.
She hosted her own birthday party and also made sure the guests had snacks. You felt an unfamiliar flutter in your chest when Aggie came into view. You were still a bit baffled at how she reacted when you flirted with her. It was, in your opinion, very obvious that you were flirting with her. Ask anyone who had seen, and they would tell you that you were definitely flirting with her. But the person who needed to notice was the girl you were actually flirting with, but Aggie didn't show anything.
You let out a frustrated groan as you let your head fall back against the wall. "Get a grip," You muttered to yourself, tightening the grip on your glass. You had never done this. When a person didn't engage with your flirting, you would find a new person within seconds, but with Aggie, you got stuck on her. You never get stuck on someone; if they weren't interested, you would accept it.
It was your routine, but Aggie, it felt like she had spoiled your routine that you had written on paper. Your life was perfectly fine; you didn't need the complications of a so-called crush crushing your well-organized life. You looked around the room, and someone across from you smiled at you. You waited for that cockly feeling to set in your body.
You wanted for your body to straighten and give the woman across from you your knowing smirk, but nothing, absolutely nothing. Your stomach didn't do the stupid flip thing it did when you were looking at Aggie. You just gave the woman a nod—something you would never do. The woman across from you was attractive, no doubt about it, but she wasn't Aggie. The only name that you could remember is Aggie, Aggie, Aggie.
It was getting annoying at this point. What was so special about Aggie? She was pretty, with a lovely smile, a bright appearance, and an aura that drew everyone in. God, it feels like you have just run into a brick wall after running so long away from relationships, girlfriends, or commitment. Or all of them combined. A brick wall that didn't want to go down, even though you tried so hard to break it down. It felt like no matter what route you took, you ended up in front of the same wall named after Aggie.
Your eyes drifted again, against your better judgment, to the kitchen. Aggie was still there, but finishing the last things on the plates. It felt like your world had only eyes for the blonde striker in the kitchen. "Nope, absolutely not," You muttered to yourself. Your mind went to the one thing you had ignored for most of your adult life. To the what-ifs. What if you finally let yourself commit? What if you let yourself have a girlfriend? What if you let go of your routine? What if you step out of your comfort zone?
It was all ifs you had never dared to think about, but again, ever since you stumbled on the brick wall named Aggie, those ifs came rushing to the surface, like a person finally getting up for air after being underwater for way too long. You leaned more against the wall, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the white wall behind you. You were getting frustrated with yourself at this point. You could step further into the room, and people would come up to you, but now, you just didn't or didn't want to; it was all the same for you at this point.
You wondered sometimes how people managed to give up control so easily. You had seen so many couples, you always wondered how they did it. How did they manage to keep it all together? You shook your head, no. You weren't going to think about that. You may have stumbled upon an obstacle, but that doesn't mean you need to go over it; you can also find other solutions to get past it without climbing it.
You looked down at the glass of water in your hand. It is probably warm by now. You looked up immediately when Aggie appeared from the kitchen. A small smile formed on her lips. She didn't look at you. That was no surprise. If Aggie didn't pick up on the flirting you did, she wouldn't notice you standing in the same spot you have been all night. With Aggie out of the kitchen, you had the opportunity to refill your glass of water. Without a second thought, you pushed yourself off the wall and headed for the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, it felt like you could finally breathe. But the universe had different plans, because you could still smell the lingering perfume of Aggie in the air. You let out a groan, dragging your hand down your face. You knew the room probably smelled like Aggie, but god, this was getting annoying. You walked to the counter where the faucet was. You turned it on and refilled your glass, and drank it down in one go. You would've never thought that a girl at a party would let you doubt all your morals, how ironic.
Aggie walked out of the kitchen, a drink in her hand. She glanced at you quickly, frowning a little because you were standing at the same spot you had been standing for most of the night. Aggie had been observing you ever since you talked to her in the kitchen. Aggie didn't really know what to think of you. You looked nice, but something told her that there was more to you, but she couldn't quite place what. Aggie walked further into the living room.
She smiled brightly when she saw that everyone was having fun and had something to eat. Aggie walked to the couch. Leah was still sitting there, talking to Lotte and Lucy. "Birthday girl!" Lucy yelled and gave Aggie a hug when she was close enough. "Hi," Aggie said with a smile, patting Lucy on the back. "Are you guys having fun?" All three of them nodded, giving Aggie big smiles. Aggie took a deep breath and turned her attention to Leah, who was already watching. "Would you guys give Leah and me a few seconds? I need to talk to her." Lucy and Lotte nodded, and both walked off, joining a group of people across the room.
"What's up? What did I do?" Aggie laughed softly, shaking her slightly. "You did nothing," Aggie said, but frowned immediately at what Leah said. "Wait, did you do something?" Leah shook her head immediately. Aggie eyed her England captain for a full second before deciding to drop it.
"It's about-" Aggie started, but stopped, just to look over Leah's shoulder and see you standing near the wall with a drink in your hand. "It's about y/n." Leah raised her eyebrows in surprise, but pressed her lips together, just to prevent herself from laughing. Aggie noticed that as well, but decided not to ask about that. "What did y/n do?" Leah asked, dragging Aggie from her thoughts. Aggie shook her head, "y/n didn't do anything," Aggie said with an awkward laugh.
"But she did something," Leah stated, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "No, no." Leah just nodded and leaned back against the couch. "It's just–she was in the kitchen with me just now, and she was acting strange. Like she didn't know what to do with herself." Leah nodded, taking in the formation she was being told about. Aggie frowned when she saw the expression change on Leah's face. "What's with the face?" Leah let out a sigh, shaking her head lightly.
"What frown?" Aggie tilted her head lightly, like she was a dog hearing a new sound for the very first time. "You're making a face. The same face you use when someone stole your last biscuit," Aggie stated with a smirk, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "For someone so young, you're very observant." Aggie smiled proudly. Leah was clearly impressed by Aggie's observation skills.
"I'm a very skillful person," Aggie teased, giving Leah a wink. "But we're going off track here," Aggie said, backtracking to the conversation she actually wanted to have with Leah. "So, what's the deal with y/n?" Leah let out a sigh, dragging her hands down her face. "Why do you want to know?" Leah asked. Aggie could see the seriousness on Leah's face. "Eumh, just how she usually is, because how she acted back there," Aggie started, gesturing vaguely to the kitchen, "isn't how any normal person would act." Leah nodded with her head, searching the crowd over Aggie's shoulder, and spotted you near a wall, still.
"She was talking about one thing, but then didn't follow through, and she was staring at me, like she was waiting for me to say one particular thing." Leah nodded, trying very hard not to laugh, but failed, and a laugh slipped past her lips. Aggie frowned in confusion. There was definitely something, but it feels like she was the only person being left out, and she hated that. "Why are you laughing?" Aggie asked in genuine confusion, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"It's just, y/n never acts like that when she's talking to someone." Aggie's frown deepened. "y/n has a reputation," Leah clarified. "What kind of reputation?" Aggie now asked, uncrossing her arms. "It's just…y/n can easily talk to anyone, charm them, give them one smile, and they're head over heels for her." Aggie nodded, trying to understand where Leah was going with this.
"Long story short, y/n flirts with people, goes home with them, has a good night, and leaves in the end. No strings attached, just two people have a good time in bed for the night." Aggie stood frozen, because this wasn't what she expected. "Oh…oh, she was flirting with me," Aggie muttered when realization kicked in. "And it went right over my head." Leah nodded, giving Aggie an impressed look. "It sure did, and I think you broke y/n, because this has never happened to her before," Leah stated. Aggie looked back over her shoulder, seeing you still standing there, very much deep in thought.
"If you do want to talk to her again, just be careful, because not everyone is into the 'no strings attached' thing, alright?" Aggie let Leah's words land. Aggie didn't say anything else; she just walked back to the kitchen. Aggie just needed to do something.
The days after the party were a blur. Life continued, football continued, but it felt like you were stuck, stuck at that party. Stuck in the kitchen with a blonde striker who you tried to flirt with, but she didn't react to it at all. You dragged yourself into the kitchen, where Leah was already sitting. She raised an eyebrow. She had never seen you in this state. You're 25, and you usually carried yourself in the room as if you owned it.
"Morning," You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. "You look like hell." You turned around to meet Leah, who sat behind the counter. "Couldn't sleep," You muttered and took a sip from your coffee. You pushed a chair back and plopped down, letting your head rest on the counter. "Okay, what's going on?" You lifted your head. Leah's eyes were filled with concern and slight amusement. "Nothing is going on, I'm just tired," You muttered, taking a sip from your coffee.
"This isn't nothing. I have seen you take a ball straight to the face and look better than you do right now," Leah stated. She wasn't being sarcastic; she was simply stating a fact. Leah took a sip from her tea, watching you over the rim of her cup, narrowing her eyes lightly. "Okay," Leah said, setting her mug down, "tell me what's going on." You let out a heavy sigh, setting your mug down as well. You let your shoulders drop just lightly as you stared at the counter.
"It's nothing," You eventually said, not meeting Leah's eyes once. Leah raised an eyebrow. "You haven't slept properly ever since Aggie's birthday party, so you haven't slept properly for at least three days, that's not-nothing." You dragged a hand down your face, already feeling the frustration bubbling beneath your skin. Your mind felt like a mess, like someone had taken everything you usually had in control but had shaken it, and that someone was Aggie.
"It's just-" You started, but stopped, shaking your head. Leah didn't interrupt, and at this point, you hoped she would, but she didn't. You exhaled sharply. "My mind is just a complete mess right now." You said, staring down at your mug, tracing your finger over the rim. "Because of a certain blonde," You muttered under your breath, quieter now. You hoped that Leah didn't hear you, but she did, of course, she did. Leah was silent for exactly one second before she burst out in laughter. You looked up immediately, shooting Leah a glare.
"Don't." But that only made it worse. Leah covered her mouth with her hand, hoping to silence her laughter, but failed. "I'm sorry–" Leah tried, failing miserably as she was still covering her mouth, still laughing. "I just– I've never–" Leah shook her head, trying to find the right words as she leaned back against her seat.
"I've never seen you like this," Leah admitted, still grinning like she just won the Champions League, again. You rolled your eyes, turning away from her, gripping your mug tighter. "Glad I could be your morning entertainment," You muttered, bringing your mug to your lips. "Oh, you have no idea," Leah said, still looking far too amused. "This is a historic event. You? Completely errored? That's worth more than gold," Leah said, her grin widening as every second passed.
You huffed lightly, standing up and leaning against the counter now, looking at the wall like it held all the answers to your problems. "I just don't get it," you eventually said, turning back to Leah. "I had plenty of women before, I have slept with them and moved on, no problem with that. But this–" You muttered, gesture vaguely with your hand. A bit frustrated.
"--has never happened." Leah tilted her head lightly, studying you more out of curiosity than teasing. "What exactly is 'this'?" She asked. You hesitated. Even you didn't have an answer to that. "I just don't get it!" You said, frustrated, pushing yourself off the counter, and started pacing in the middle of the kitchen. "I mean, she didn't even react in the slightest, not even a little." Leah stayed silent, but a small grin formed on her lips.
"Y/n." You ignored her and continued pacing, muttering under your breath, and gesturing with your hands in the air. "Honestly, everyone who would watch that interaction could tell I was flirting with her." Leah shook her head and stood up. "y/n!" You stopped dead in your tracks, your head snapping up to look at Leah. "Maybe, you have fallen for her." You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. "I-I don't do that, you know that!" You argued, but there was no bite in your tone.
"I know, that's why this," Leah said as she gestured at you, "looks exactly like you have fallen for her." Leah pushed off the counter. "Aggie didn't react to your flirting, and you have been stuck on that ever since, so maybe you should think about why you care that she didn't react." That took you off guard. "You have fallen for her, but you don't want to admit it." You opened your mouth to argue, but Leah didn't even give you a chance.
"Maybe stop hiding behind the rule you have, that whole 'I don't do relationships' and stop hiding behind it, and take a leap," Leah finished. Before you could react, Leah was gone. You were left in the kitchen, more uncertain than you have ever been in your life. Was Leah right? Have you been hiding behind your own 'rule'?
The bell above the door chimed when you stepped into the coffee shop. It has been hell of a few days for you. You still barely slept. Now, not only was Aggie on your mind, but also the words Leah had told you were there, too. It helped that you could throw yourself into training, just to forget about the complications that had stumbled into your perfectly organized life.
You waited in line while scrolling through your phone. It was going to be a busy week for you and Arsenal. In two days, you had the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, and on the weekend, you needed to play the semi-final of the FA Cup. Arsenal's season had been smooth sailing for the past few weeks. You have been in top form with three goals and four assists in your last three matches. You moved forward as the line moved.
You just needed coffee. You still have been sleeping like crap, because either Aggie kept you awake or Leah's words had been echoing in your mind like a broken record. You tightened your hold on your phone, letting out a frustrated groan. "Maybe you have fallen for her." You shook your head like that could shake the words out of your mind. You tucked your phone back into your pocket. Nothing could ease your mind right now.
"Next," The barista behind the counter said, dragging you out of your thoughts. You smiled at the woman and looked at the choices on the board. "A latte, please." The bartender nodded and got to work. You stepped aside so the next person could order. "Aggie, fancy seeing you here." You stopped everything you were doing and snapped your head up. No, this couldn't be happening. What are the chances? You hoped that it was a different Aggie, but no, when you looked up, there stood the one and only person who had clouded your mind for the last few days.
Aggie was still the same: same friendly smile, same bright look in her eyes, same friendliness to everything and everyone. "There is nothing fancy about this, you know this is the best coffee shop in London!" Aggie said cheerfully, resting her hands on the counter. "Alright, alright, you want the usual?" Aggie nodded, already stepping aside. You should've moved, should've given Aggie a place to stand, but you didn't, so not seconds later, Aggie collided with you. "Ooff," Aggie muttered, looking up to see who she bumped into.
Your eyes met, and recognition settled in Aggie's eyes. "y/n." Aggie's voice was surprised, but not unwelcoming. "Hi," you said with a smile, finally taking a few steps back to create space. "Sorry, didn't see you there." Aggie apologized. "Ouch, am I that hard to miss?" You teased, placing a hand on your heart as if you've been visibly hurt by it.
"What-no, no, that's not what I meant," Aggie quickly said, panic written all over her face. You shook your head lightly, a laugh slipping past your lips. "Aggie, I was messing with you," You quickly reassured her. Aggie's shoulder sagged in relief. "That was not funny," Aggie said with a pout. Your stomach did the stupid flip again with Aggie looking like that. Maybe you have fallen for her. You shook your head. No, you weren't going there right now, because that person was standing right in front of you.
"Y/n and Aggie? Your coffees are ready," The barista said, placing the coffees on the counter. You and Aggie reached for the coffee at the same time, so your hands collided with each other before either of you could take your coffee. "Sorry," Aggie muttered, pulling her hand back, her fingers brushing yours. You quickly took both coffees and held out Aggie's to her. "Here," You said with a smile. Aggie took her cup, her fingers brushing yours again, and this time lingering for a second too long.
Aggie pulled back, but you let your pinky brush her hand for a second. What was that? You had never done that. All you knew was that Aggie wasn't someone you just wanted to sleep with and move on from. I have fallen for her. The thought didn't vanish like usual; it stayed, because it was your thought and not Leah's voice. You had admitted it yourself.
Okay, this is new for you, but you got this, right? "Do you-" You started when Aggie was turning around to leave. "Do you maybe, I don't know…walk around the city together?" Aggie turned back around to face you and tilted her head a little, studying thoroughly. She gathered that you were nervous. You were carefully fidgeting with the cup in your hand, your eyes never staying too long on Aggie's.
This was the real you. The you that wasn't hiding behind her own made-up 'rule', the one who did something, who decided to stop running. The you that wanted to know Aggie better, the you that wouldn't hang out and leave after. This was the you that wanted to stay. "Of course-" You quickly added, because Aggie had stayed completely silent, "you don't have to, but–" You just stopped in general, this was a dumb idea, but then– "I would love to."
You lifted your head, the fear leaving your body. You let out a relieved sigh, your shoulders dropping. "Okay," You said with a smile. The two of you left the coffee shop and walked down the street. Your shoulders brushed occasionally, which made your heart beat faster. You got this. Don't mess this up.
The city felt different when you weren't rushing through it. You usually rushed to training, a match, the bar, or the person you met to their house. You have never walked through it calmly. Always rushing to something or someone. You always walked with purpose, but now? Now you matched the woman's pace next to you. The street noise blurred into the background.
The only sound that filled your ears was the steady, even footsteps from you and Aggie. For a while, neither of you said anything. You just let the noises of the city around you fill the silence like music in an elevator. It wasn't an awkward silence, just quiet. The back of your hand brushed against Aggie's. You felt your pulse spike, but when you glanced at Aggie from the corner of your eye, Aggie hadn't reacted, of course not. You pulled your hand back.
Not that Aggie would notice. You didn't yank it away; you just removed it slowly. This was a whole new territory for you. The whole 'how do you act on the first date' thing. You blinked at the thought. No, this wasn't a date, was it? Just two people getting to know each other, spending some quality time together. You figured it was clear that this wasn't a date. You already assumed that Leah had told Aggie that you didn't do the whole dating thing.
As you walked further, your hands brushed Aggie's occasionally. Aggie didn't react to it. She kept walking. She didn't look down or pull her hand away. Your chest warmed at it. That Aggie wasn't uncomfortable. Which meant you were doing so far a good job, but you dreaded that at any moment, you would say something that would make Aggie walk away. So, you decided just to stay quiet. "You've been thinking a lot," Aggie said after a while, glancing at you. You let out a huff, a smile playing at your lips.
"Is it that obvious?" You asked in a teasing tone, meeting Aggie's eyes. "A little," Aggie replied. You glanced at her briefly. "It's that bad, huh?" A small laugh escaped Aggie's lips as she shook her head. "Not bad, just…different." Different. You didn't want to act differently, but around Aggie? You somehow acted weirdly constantly. You looked ahead again, your jaw tightening, just to relax again. "Yeah," You muttered, "that seems to be a theme lately." The two of you fell into a silence again. It wasn't heavy, just silence.
God, how do normal people function in situations like this? Because you certainly didn't know how to act, and you would love to get some advice right about now. "Can I ask you something?" Aggie now asked, her voice quieter, a bit hesitant. You gestured with your hand for her to continue.
"Why don't you do like…relationships?" You stopped dead in your tracks. Aggie turned to you, regret written all over her face. You blinked a few times. Aggie asked it so casually, but why did it feel like you were being held at gunpoint and needed to answer the question? You let out a quiet huff of air, your gaze dropping to the ground. "Straight to the point, huh?" You said lightly, somehow a smile forming on your lips.
"You–you don't need to answer if you're not comfortable," Aggie reassured you. You shook your head. "It's fine." You just didn't know what the answer to that question was anymore. You had told so many people that you didn't do relationships because they were always complicated. That people got too attached to one person. "I just…" You started, then paused, searching for something that didn't sound like you had said it a million times before.
"I don't like the mess that comes with it." You assumed that Aggie would say something, but she didn't; she didn't interrupt. "Expectations, people getting hurt if it doesn't work." You continued, shrugging lightly with your shoulders. "It's just easier not to get into them in the first place." You glanced at Aggie, expecting to see judgment written all over her face, but you didn't see any.
"Does it work?" Aggie asked, her voice soft. You let out a huff. "It did," You said. You felt your hand brush against Aggie's again. You didn't look down, but you felt Aggie move her fingers lightly against yours. Aggie tilted her head like a curious dog. "And now?" You hesitated. The answer was right there, the answer you didn't want to say aloud. "Now I'm not sure," You whispered. The words felt strange on your tongue. You had always been sure of everything, but now with Aggie? You're not sure of anything at this point.
The words felt strange on your tongue, like they didn't quite belong to you. You glanced down, but quickly looked ahead again. Your hand had brushed against Aggie's once more. Your heart rate picked up, which had nothing to do with running or training. At the next step, your hands brushed against each other again. You swallowed the lump in your throat and moved your hand closer to Aggie's. Not grabbing, just a silent invitation.
Aggie noticed the slight change. She adjusted her hand as well. placing her hand in yours, her fingers slipping through yours. She didn't interlace them fully, but she didn't need to, because you did it for her. This was scary, but you did, but what in the fuck came next?
After a few hours walking around in the city, you had walked Aggie home. You stopped on the porch, your hands in your pockets like a teenager walking their date back home, and you actually felt like that right now. Aggie didn't go inside right away; she stayed with you on the porch. You leaned back against the fence, completely drawn to how Aggie looked right now.
The light above shone on Aggie in a certain way that made her even more beautiful than you thought she was. You could see the wrinkle of her nose when she laughed, the small dimples in her cheeks when she was fully smiling. You were so far away right now that you didn't realize that Aggie was watching you back. She tilted her head lightly. She could tell that you were completely mesmerized by her, which you were. Aggie didn't say anything. She was too amazed by the fact that she could see that you had let your guard down. Your shoulders weren't tensed, your face was natural, no teasing smirk that you usually wore.
You were warm, calm, but still very charming, but now you weren't trying so hard to impress someone. "You're staring," Aggie finally said, her voice soft and warm. "Mhh," You hummed, blinking with your eyes to focus on Aggie. "We have been standing here for what? Like five minutes, but you haven't stopped staring at me," Aggie said. There was a teasing edge to her tone, a smirk playing on her lips.
You stayed quiet at that. Because you hadn't even noticed that you were staring until Aggie had called you out. You let out a sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You don't know what you needed to do now. This isn't how your nights usually go. You usually go home with someone, have sex, and then leave. That's simple. But this? This was a whole new territory, but you didn't want to screw it up, you really didn't.
"I just–" You started, but stopped with a shake of your head. "Don't know what to do right now," You muttered, not meeting Aggie's eyes once. "What would you do with your usual nights?" The question caught you off guard. You looked at Aggie. Was this a trick question? Or did Aggie really want an answer to that? "You want an honest answer to that?" You then asked, rubbing your neck. "I only want an honest answer." You let out a huff. Yeah, that tracks.
"Usually, I would enter the house, have sex with the person–" Aggie raised a curious eyebrow when you stopped. "And then?" You let out a sigh, dropping your eyes to the wooden floor of the porch like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Y/n," Aggie said, her tone even. "I would leave, mostly in the middle of the night. I did always leave a note," You muttered under your breath, heat creeping up your neck.
"I know that's not how you flow, so, just–if you don't want this–" You said and gestured vaguely between the two of you, "if you don't want to continue this, I get, you just tell me, and I'll go," You whispered. You were already dreading Aggie's answer. You had never given anyone the option to run because you always ran first, but now you had played the ball to Aggie in front of an open goal; it was up to her whether she wanted to score.
"Hey, hey, stop," Aggie said, stepping closer to you, not giving you any chance to say more. You turned your head away, but Aggie cupped your face in both hands, forcing you to meet her eyes. "I know this is something big for you. I wouldn't just turn you down, because I know that this is you stepping out of your comfort zone," Aggie said, her tone sweet, but very clear. All of a sudden, you were very aware of how close the two of you were standing right now. Your noses almost brushed. You looked down at Aggie's lips before locking eyes with her again. You hesitantly placed your hands on Aggie's waist, pulling her slightly closer, your noses brushing fully against each other now.
You felt your heart in your throat. You tightened your hold on Aggie's waist before letting go again, but not fully. You let your forehead rest against Aggie's. You closed your eyes. This situation was terrifying, but you didn't want to run away anymore. You moved forward a little, your lips grazing Aggie's. You didn't kiss her. You allowed her to pull back or lean into it.
You only needed to wait exactly one second before Aggie's lips met yours. You smiled into the kiss, pulling Aggie just a little closer. Aggie giggled softly, giving you one final kiss before pulling back. "Wow," Was all Aggie could say. You couldn't see it really well, but you could see the slight blush on Aggie's cheeks. You gave her a small smirk. Aggie buried her face in your neck, clearly embarrassed. "C'mon," Aggie eventually said, pulling back and holding out her hand, and with the other hand, she unlocked the house.
You placed your hand in hers, interlacing your fingers immediately. You could get used to this, as a matter of fact, you were going to get used to this. You let Aggie pull you into the house, the door closing behind you. For once, you had to agree with Leah. Yeah, you have definitely fallen for Aggie. Not that you were ever going to admit that out loud. Especially not to Leah.
The Barcelona heat was unforgiving, even with the AC humming in the background of your apartment. You were sprawled out on the sofa, trying to focus on the book in your lap, but your attention was entirely monopolized by the woman currently occupying the living room floor.
Alexia had decided that a morning session at the Ciutat Esportiva wasn’t enough and was currently finishing a core workout on the yoga mat in front of the TV.
"Ten more seconds," she gritted out, holding a plank that looked physically impossible. Her arms were shaking slightly, sweat glistening on her shoulders.
You lowered your book. You couldn't help it.
She finally collapsed onto the mat with a groan, rolling onto her back. She lay there for a moment, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling. Then, she sat up, grabbing the hem of her soak-drenched training top.
"God, it’s boiling," she muttered.
Without a second thought or perhaps with too many thoughts she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it into the laundry pile in the corner. She was left in just her sports bra and shorts.
And there they were. The abs. The famous, sculpture-like, defied-the-laws-of-physics abs that had graced the covers of magazines and terrified defenders across Europe.
She reached for her water bottle, taking a long drink, her midsection flexing and shifting with the movement. The definition was ridiculous. It was like looking at an anatomy chart, but much, much better.
You realized you had been staring for a solid ten seconds without blinking. You quickly snapped your book back up, burying your nose in the pages, hoping she hadn't noticed.
"Interesting book?" Alexia’s voice was filled with amusement.
"Riveting," you lied, staring at a blank page.
"You've been on page 42 for twenty minutes."
You lowered the book slowly. Alexia was still sitting on the floor, resting her elbows on her knees. She wasn't looking at the TV. She was looking right at you, a knowing, dangerous smirk playing on her lips.
She stood up slowly, grabbing a towel to wipe her face, but she didn't walk to the shower. She walked toward the sofa.
She stopped right in front of you, looming slightly. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, leaning down so her face was level with yours.
"You're staring," she whispered, her dark eyes dancing with mischief.
"I was reading," you defended weakly.
"You were looking at my stomach."
"I was looking... past you. At the... plant."
Alexia laughed, a low, throaty sound that vibrated in her chest. She shifted her weight, the movement causing the muscles of her core to ripple again. She saw your eyes flicker down. She caught you.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, invading your personal space with the scent of expensive deodorant and hard work.
"You’re terrible at lying, amor," she teased, brushing her nose against yours. "And you're blushing."
"I'm hot. It's hot in here."
"Is it?" She grinned, pulling back just enough to look down at her own torso, running a hand casually over her stomach before looking back at you with that arrogant, captivating confidence that won Ballon d'Ors.
She knows what those abs do to you.
She knows you lose the ability to form coherent sentences. She knows that all she has to do is stretch a little too high or lift her shirt a little to wipe her face, and she has you wrapped around her finger.
"Go shower, Alexia," you groaned, throwing a throw pillow at her face to break the spell.
She caught the pillow easily with one hand, tossing it aside. "Make me."
"You are insufferable," you muttered, though you didn't pull away when she leaned down to kiss you.
"And you," she murmured against your lips, smiling, "are obsessed with me."
"Unfortunately," you sighed, letting your hands rest on her waist.
"Fortunately," she corrected. "Now, are you going to keep staring, or are you going to join me in the shower?"
She pulled away, winking, and walked toward the bathroom, the sway of her hips deliberate. You watched her go, shaking your head. She knew exactly what she was doing. And the worst part was, it worked every single time.
The tables turned two nights later. It was the annual FC Barcelona Foundation gala a night of black ties, flashing cameras, and the entire squad trying to look like they hadn't just played ninety minutes of high-intensity football forty-eight hours prior.
Alexia was in her element. She was wearing a sharp, tailored black suit that fit her perfectly, looking every inch the calm, collected captain. She was standing in a circle with Mapi, Ingrid, and Fridolina, holding a glass of champagne, looking effortlessly cool as she laughed at something Mapi said.
She had won the "abs war" the other day, and her smugness hadn't quite faded. She thought she was untouchable.
She was wrong.
You walked into the ballroom. You had spent three hours getting ready, channeling every ounce of spite and seduction you possessed. You were wearing a dress that was technically legal, but ethically dangerous. It was floor-length silk, shimmering under the chandeliers, but it had a slit that went dangerously high up your left thigh and a back that plunged low enough to make people gasp.
You caught Mapi’s eye first. Mapi stopped talking mid-sentence, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. She nudged Ingrid, who turned, blinked, and then smirked.
Alexia, noticing the silence, turned around slowly.
The glass of champagne in her hand tilted dangerously.
You walked toward them, moving with a slow, deliberate confidence. You didn't look at the floor you looked straight at her. You saw Alexia’s eyes widen. You saw her gaze drop from your face, down your neck, over the curve of your waist, and settle on the exposed skin of your leg as you took a step.
Her throat bobbed. The "Queen of Europe" looked like she had just forgotten her own name.
"Evening, ladies," you purred, stepping right into the circle, sliding your arm through Alexia’s. You felt her bicep tense under the suit jacket. She was rigid.
"Hi, Y/n," Mapi said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "You look...
"Thanks, Maps," you smiled, then turned your head to look up at Alexia. "Cat got your tongue, amor?"
Alexia cleared her throat, blinking rapidly as she tried to reboot her brain. "You... you look..." She gestured vaguely at your entire body, her composure cracking. "Good. Very good."
"Just good?" You teased, leaning in close so your lips brushed her ear. You dropped your voice to a whisper. "I thought you liked the view."
Alexia turned a shade of red that clashed with the red carpet.
The real revenge came during the dinner.
You were seated next to her at the round table. The tablecloth was long, hiding everything from the waist down.
While the club president was giving a speech about "values" and "integrity," you decided to test Alexia’s.
You crossed your legs. The silk of your dress rustled softly. You let your hand drop beneath the table, resting it on your own thigh first, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, moving it to hers.
Alexia stiffened. She was staring straight ahead at the podium, her jaw clenched tight.
You walked your fingers up the inside of her thigh, over the fabric of her suit trousers. You felt her hand shoot down to grab yours, stopping you.
"Y/n," she hissed through her teeth, not moving her lips, keeping her eyes fixed forward. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" you whispered innocently, taking a sip of your water. "I'm just listening to the speech."
You used your free hand to smooth the fabric of your dress, effectively widening the slit so that your entire leg was bare against her suit pants. You leaned your shoulder into hers.
"You're warm," you commented.
Alexia turned to look at you. Her eyes were dark, dilated, and pleading. She looked flustered. She looked desperate. She looked exactly how you had felt on the living room floor two days ago.
"You are doing this on purpose," she accused, her voice low and rough.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you smiled sweetly. "Is it distracting? Am I making it hard for you to focus, Captain?"
Alexia groaned, dropping her forehead into her hand for a split second before composing herself as a camera panned toward your table.
"You're going to pay for this," she muttered, gripping your hand under the table, interlacing her fingers with yours tightly.
"I'm counting on it," you shot back.
Later, in the car ride home, the silence was heavy with tension. Alexia drove with one hand on the wheel, her knuckles white.
You shifted in the passenger seat, letting the dress fall open again. You caught her glancing over not at the road, but at your legs.
"Eyes on the road, Putellas," you said sharply, mimicking her tone from the other day.
Alexia let out a breathy, defeated laugh, shaking her head. "Okay. You win. I surrender."
"Good," you smirked, reaching over to rest a hand on her neck, your thumb stroking her pulse point. It was racing. "Now drive fast. I want to get out of this dress."
Hi, my lovelies. This is the next part of my Kiss Me series. I think it’s very cute. I wrote it back in January but it’s set over the Christmas break, just before the start of the 2nd half of the season. I hope you enjoy it.
Long Goodbye
Viv Miedema x Reader
Description: Viv needs to go back to Manchester
Kiss Me masterlist
“I hate this.” Your voice was muffled against Viv’s shirt. You were currently holding her hostage on the sofa, body fully draped over hers as you clung to her. Although she was a very willing hostage, her hand carding through your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp.
“I know, lieverd.” Her voice was soft and gentle.
“Why did you have to chose Manchester?” You complained. It was a common theme in your whining. Yes, you had been so upset when she had told you about her transfer. Not at her, you could never be too upset with her.
It was just that Manchester was so far away. 232 km. 144 miles. 3 hours 6 minutes by train. 3 hrs 43 minutes by car - assuming traffic was ok. You had the routes memorised and the days tracked until you would be slamming the car door and driving to her.
Viv chuckled throatily, her chest rumbling beneath you. “You know why.” You could practically hear her eyes roll.
“But … it’s so far away,” you whined again.
“What? You’d want me to go to West Ham? Spurs? Palace? London City? Chelsea?”
“No,” you conceded after a long pause, voice grumpy.
“Exactly.” Viv sounded smug and you could picture her face - pursed lips and a raised eyebrow.
Silence settled over you like a welcomed blanket. You and Viv often spent you days in silence; neither one of you feeling the need to speak too much. You had known each other for years. Both 18 and freshly signed to Bayern Munich. You had learned how communicate through body language rather than words. Neither of you could speak German very well and she was useless at English and you couldn’t speak a lick of Dutch. But that had formed your foundation - growing to know each other through slight smiles and gentle touches.
You had signed for Arsenal the season before her. Long distance had been an adjustment but you managed. And you knew you would be able to do it now she was at Manchester too. You just hated leaving.
You weren’t too sure how long you lay like that, your head on her chest, counting the minutes in heartbeats.
“I should …” Viv started, her voice thick. “I need to …”
“I know.”
Neither one of you moved.
After a minute, you felt Viv’s hand brush over your cheekbone, her telltale sign she really did need to go now.
“You could come back, yaknow? I’m sure Reneé would love to resign you. I know the team would too and the fans would go crazy.” You were blinking back tears now as you sat up, straddling her hips.
“I think Andrée would think differently,” she laughed wetly.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” You felt a tear roll down your cheek.
“Don’t cry, lieverd.” Viv bit her lip, clearly holding her own tears back too. “We play Bournemouth and London City soon. And you guys in February. So I’ll be staying with you all of those nights, and-”
You cut her off with a kiss.
It was soft at first, almost hesitant, like you were both afraid of breaking. Your hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing just beneath her eyes where tears threatened. Viv’s hands slid from your waist to your back, holding you against her. She sighed into the kiss, a sound full of everything neither of you were saying.
When you pulled back, your foreheads stayed pressed together. You could feel her breath, steady but heavy, warming your lips.
“Promise me,” you murmured.
Viv didn’t ask what you meant. She never did when it mattered. “Anything. Always.”
You swallowed. “I think our title race is over. You guys are like too far ahead for us and unless you really fuck it we aren’t catching you so … you win the league. Take the title from Chelshit. Win it for me, yeah?”
Viv’s smile softened immediately, like she could hear the wobble underneath your bravado. “Hey,” she murmured, nudging your nose with hers. “We’re not doing sad and depressing, remember? This is us. We do annoying-long-distance-with-too-many-train-tickets.”
You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. “I hate train tickets.”
“I know. You keep them all in that one drawer like they’re evidence in a crime.”
“They are evidence,” you said seriously. “Of suffering.”
She laughed properly then, the sound warm and familiar, easing something tight in your chest. Her hands slid back to your waist, thumbs rubbing slow, absent-minded circles like she’d done a thousand times before.
“You’re going to come up,” she said easily. “You’ll complain about the rain, the cold, the lack of good coffee-”
“Hey.”
“-and then you’ll steal all my hoodies,” she continued, unbothered. “Again.”
“They look better on me.”
Viv hummed thoughtfully. “Debatable. But I allow it.”
You leaned back in just slightly, so your chests were touching again. “And you’ll come down,” you added. “You’ll complain about traffic, about how you’ve forgotten how loud London can be, and then you’ll pretend you don’t love it when we walk along the Thames.”
She smiled, fond and unmistakable. “I do love that.”
“See?”
She pressed a quick kiss to your lips, lighter this time, playful. “We’ll make it work. We always do.”
You nodded, finally letting yourself believe it. Your cheek dropped back against her collarbone, a comfortable weight. “You better FaceTime me every night.”
“Every night,” she agreed without hesitation. “Even if it’s just you watching me brush my teeth.”
“I’ll rate your technique.”
“I’m already flawless.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet,” she said, leaning in to kiss you again, lingering just a bit longer, “you’re obsessed with me.”
Guilty.
Eventually - far too eventually - she readjusted herself, pulling both of your into a sitting position, fingers trailing reluctantly from down your spine.
At the door, she paused, turning back with that familiar look she got when she was about to say something important but didn’t want to make it heavy.
“Hey,” she said softly. “When it feels hard, remember this. Remember us like this.”
You stepped into her personal space again, wrapping your arms around her, squeezing tight. “I will. Always.”
She kissed your temple. “Good. Because I’m keeping you. Distance or not.”
“Same,” you said immediately. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Best news I’ve had all day.”
The door finally closed behind her, but the flat didn’t feel empty. Just quieter.
Your phone buzzed seconds later.
Forgot to say I love you.
You smiled to yourself, heart full and warm.
You don’t need to say it. I already know. Drive safe. And win the league.
Summary: You and Ale are expecting your first baby. You're at 38 weeks expecting the baby to come in early January. When on Christmas your baby decides to make her entrance into the world.
Warnings: pregnancy, birth
Masterlist
The lights around the living room glowed in warm golds and reds, the scent of cinnamon and pine filling the air. There was laughter echoing off the walls. The kind of laughter that only came when everyone was truly relaxed. The team Christmas party was in full swing. Someone had put on Mariah Carey for the third time and Claudia was dancing dramatically in the middle of the room while Mapi and Patri filmed her. You watched them exhausted.
You sat curled up on the couch, one hand resting on your belly. The Christmas tree lights reflected off the ring on your finger. The pretty golden one with the small gemstone. The one Alexia had slipped on months ago when you had both promised each other forever. You smiled softly as you watched your wife laugh with Kika and Patri near the food table. Alexia’s laugh was like music to your ears. She was just so happy and warm it made you all fuzzy when she was smiling. And every time her eyes found yours across the room, your heart still skipped.
Cata walked by with a tray of drinks, her Santa hat tilted to one side. “You sure you don’t want a mocktail, mamá?” She teased.
You chuckled. “No, thanks. The baby’s doing enough dancing in here already.”
Ingrid, who was sitting next to you, laughed. She had come down from Lyon too come to the party but you were happy to see one of your best friends. “Probably takes after Alexia. Never stops moving.”
Alexia came over a moment later, her cheeks were flushed from laughing. She dropped onto the couch beside you and draped an arm around your shoulders, before she kissed your temple. “How are you feeling, amor?” She murmured, thumb brushing over your arm.
“Tired.” You admitted softly. “But happy.”
“Good.” She said with that quiet tenderness that was all hers. But that she'd never show anyone except you and soon the baby you were carrying for your little family. “Next year, there’ll be one more at this party.”
Mapi overheard and grinned. “Oh, we’re already planning the baby’s first Barça kit.”
Ona nodded. “We’ll make sure it’s tiny and perfect.”
Aitana piped up grinning. “And I’m godmother, right?”
Everyone burst into laughter and Alexia shook her head fondly. “We’ll see, Aita. We’ll see.”
The night went on with stories, terrible Christmas karaoke. Till at one point half the team gathered around you to feel the baby kick. Kika squealed when she felt a strong movement. “Wow, future footballer energy already!”
Alexia laughed and rested her hand over yours. “Definitely takes after mamá.”
It was close to midnight when it happened. You were in the middle of a conversation with Claudia about her disastrous attempt at baking cookies when you suddenly froze. Admittedly you had been feeling some back pain and aches the last few hours but you had been having Braxton Hicks for weeks now so you didn't really consider it could be anything different. Then suddenly a strange warmth spread down your legs. For a heartbeat, you didn’t move. Then you looked at Alexia, eyes wide.
“Ale…” You whispered. “My water just broke.”
The room went quiet. Patri’s eyes widened. “Wait… like, now now?”
Alexia blinked once, twice, then shot up. She was clearly already in full panic mode. “Okay… uh, what do we need… hospital, bag, keys. Where's the bag?”
Ona was already running to grab your overnight bag. From where she had helped you pack it a few weeks ago. Mapi started directing people like a general. “Cata, car keys! Ingrid, help Y/N stand up slowly. Don’t slip! Someone call the doctor!”
Amid the chaos, you couldn’t help but laugh. They all were running around like chicken with no head, the surrealness of it all hitting you. “Guys, it’s okay. We have time.”
Alexia, though, was at your side in seconds. She immediately pressed one hand on your back, the other gripping your hand tightly. “Breathe, mi vida. I’ve got you.”
As everyone scrambled, you looked around at the faces of your teammates. These people were your family and they all were so excited to meet the baby you and Alexia would have soon. Their excitement and love filled the air in a way that made you feel buzzed and cared for.
You turned back to Alexia, who looked both terrified and completely in awe of you.
“Guess our Christmas gift’s coming early.” You said between small breaths.
Alexia smiled through her tears, brushing your hair back gently. “The best gift I could ever ask for.”
The hospital waiting room was quiet except for the soft hum of Christmas music playing faintly from the reception desk. A string of tinsel drooped over the front counter. The clock on the wall ticked past 3:00 a.m. Most of the team sat slumped in the plastic chairs. Their exhaustion had set in after hours of anxious waiting, but no one had gone home.
Aitana was pacing for what had to be the hundredth time while mumbling. “It shouldn’t take this long, right? It’s normal? This is normal?”
Mapi groaned from her seat. “Sit down, Aita. You’re making me nervous.”
Kika, curled up in a blanket Patri had found somewhere and yawned. “You were nervous before we even got here.”
Ona leaned her head on Ingrid’s shoulder, her eyes half closed. “This is the longest match of our lives.”
Then the door at the end of the hallway opened. Everyone looked up at once.
Alexia stepped out, her hospital gown replaced by sweats and one of your old hoodies. Her hair tied back messily. Her face was flushed, eyes glistening. But the tired, dazed smile she wore said everything before she even spoke.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Patri whispered, “Ale?”
Alexia nodded, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. Her voice came out soft, a little shaky and it almost broke because she was so emotional. “She’s here.”
The room erupted. Gasps, cheers and laughter. All the sounds tangled together as the women celebrated the birth of this little girl. Aitana clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “She?”
Alexia’s smile deepened. “Sí. We have a daughter.”
Mapi jumped up first, hugging her tightly despite Alexia’s halfhearted protest. “Felicidades, mamá! How’s Y/N?”
“Exhausted, but perfect.” Alexia said as she laughed softly. “They’re both perfect.” She sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “She’s tiny, but strong. Born at 2:37 a.m.”
Cata leaned forward eagerly. “What’s her name?”
Alexia hesitated for a moment, as if savoring the last second where her Baby just belonged to her and her wife. Then she said, with that quiet pride that melted everyone instantly. She clearly was so proud to be a Mama now. “Mireia. Mireia Putellas-Y/L/N.”
A collective awww filled the waiting room. Aitana was already tearing up, of course. While Ona grinned so wide her cheeks flushed. “Mireia. That’s beautiful.”
Patri wiped at her eyes, muttering, “It fits. She’s literally the best Christmas gift ever.”
A nurse poked her head out of the hallway door. “She can have visitors now, if it’s just for a few minutes.” Before the words even finished leaving her mouth, half the team was already standing.
They followed Alexia quietly through the dim corridor. Their sneakers squeaked softly on the polished floor. When their captain pushed open the door to your room, the air changed. Everything and everyone felt softer somehow.
You were propped up against the pillows. Your hair was a little messy and you looked utterly exhausted but glowing in that way new mothers do. The faint light from the overhead lights caught your smile as you looked down at the tiny bundle in your arms.
Alexia walked over first, leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly before sitting beside you. “They all wanted to meet her.” She whispered.
You smiled and shifted slightly so everyone could see. Wrapped in a pink blanket was your daughter. Her tiny hands curled against her chest, her breathing soft and even. The room fell silent. For once, the usually loud and teasing team didn’t say a word. Nobody knew what to say.
Aitana’s eyes welled up immediately. “Oh, Déu meu… she’s perfect.”
Kika grinned. “She looks like Ale already.”
Mapi leaned in closer. “Poor kid.. already got the captain’s eyebrows.”
Everyone laughed softly, even Alexia smiled a bit as she stared at the baby. When you two had decided to try for a baby you had decided you'd carry first and use Alexia's egg for the first child. The second child would go the other way around. So yes Mireia was a total copy of Alexia when she was a newborn.
Ona reached out, keeping her voice hushed. “Can I…?”
You nodded and she gently touched Mireia’s little hand. The baby’s fingers instinctively curled around hers and Ona gasped, blinking back tears.
“She’s strong.” Ingrid said quietly as she smiled at the picture in front of her. “Just like her moms.”
Alexia slipped her arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple as Mireia stirred softly in your arms. “Feliz Navidad.” She whispered.
Summary: You finally join Arsenal and are reunited with your best friend from national camp.
Warnings: Viv gets concussed
Masterlist
Your boots crunched against the gravel path as you crossed from the training facility toward the pitch. The air smelled like rain, sharp and familiar, yet everything felt foreign. New teammates, new city, new chapter.
Before you could even let your fears and nerves take root, a voice called out across the field.
“Nou, kijk nou eens!” Well look at that
You whipped your head around just in time to see Viv sprinting over. Her hair pulled back, eyes lit with a grin that belonged to home. She didn’t hesitate or slow down, just wrapped you in a hug that knocked the air out of your chest. For a moment, the rest of the world blurred. All you felt was the steadiness of her arms and the warmth blooming in your chest.
“You made it.” She said, leaning back but not letting go right away. Her accent was softer here than in English, each syllable brushing against something that felt like safety.
“Couldn’t let you rule London on your own.” You teased, though your smile was just a shade too wide and too relieved.
She laughed, a sound that was low and familiar. “Two Dutchies… unstoppable.”
Of course, that’s when the commentary started. Katie was the first, because of course she was. “Oi! Thought this was Arsenal, not Oranje.”
Leah jogged over, her blonde ponytail swaying. She eyed the two of you with mock suspicion. “You’ll be speaking Dutch half the time just to confuse us.”
Viv glanced at you with a flash of mischief before switching into Dutch. “Dat is precies het plan.” That’s exactly the plan.
You couldn’t help it and started laughing, the kind of laugh that burst free too easily and immediately made you blush. Leah narrowed her eyes and Beth Mead sauntered up right behind her.
“Great.” Beth sighed dramatically. “Now she’s got reinforcements. She used to mutter in Dutch on her own or sometimes talk with Lotte and now you’ll actually answer her.”
Viv shrugged. She was pretending not to be cheeky, but her hand brushed lightly against your arm to keep you there, right next to her side and close. It was nothing, barely a touch, but it made your pulse jump. You knew her, you had known her for years, but suddenly the thought hit you. You had missed her more than you admitted. It was just such a difference when you only saw each other in national camp while you played in Lyon and she played for Arsenal.
Caitlin Foord shook her head. “This is going to be chaos. Absolute chaos.”
“Relax.” You said, forcing your voice back to steady. “We’ll behave. At least for now.”
Katie snorted. “That’s what they all say.”
Viv tilted her head, smiling at you in that way that made her face beam with laughing lines. Quietly and in Dutch, just for your ears, she whispered. “Ze hebben geen idee hoe leuk dit gaat worden.” They have no idea how fun this is going to be.
It was playful, but there was a softness in her tone that lingered. When your eyes met hers, something flickered there. You couldn't quite name the emotion you were reading in her eyes. But it felt safe and familiar, the same emotions you had seen in her face hundreds of times before. You swallowed. Suddenly you had become hyperaware of the closeness, of the way her smile felt different when it was just for you.
You told yourself it was nothing, just comfort, just friendship. But when the team dragged you into rondo warm-ups and Viv’s hand brushed yours again, your heart was beating fast. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe there was more here than either of you had dared to realize.
Training had been hard all morning. It was the kind of training session that demanded every ounce of focus. Passes zipped through the crisp September air and tackles came in hard, the pace refused to dip. You had been keeping half an eye on Viv all day, because you always did, so when the collision happened, your body was moving before your brain caught up.
A stray ball had bounced awkwardly, Viv had gone up for a header. The clash of heads that followed made a sickening sound. She went down instantly. Her hand clutching the side of her head and her body curling inward.
“Viv!” Your voice tore out of your throat as you sprinted across the grass, lungs burning. You dropped to your knees beside her before anyone else reached her. Sliding the last few meters, which hurt but you ignored it.
Her eyes were open but glassy, blinking too slowly. She whispered something, barely audible.
“Wat… wat is er gebeurd?” What… what happened?
You froze for half a second, recognizing the Dutch, but more than that, the panic in her voice. Normally, she switched seamlessly to English in these settings.
“Blijf liggen, Viv.” You said quickly, your hand resting firm on her shoulder. One of your hands gently stroked over her cheek to calm her down. Stay down, Viv.
The physios skidded in beside you, med bags rattling. “Can you hear me, Viv? Do you know where you are?” One of them asked, leaning close.
Viv frowned. Her lips parted as though to answer, but the words came out tangled in Dutch. “Ik—ik weet het niet. Mijn hoofd…” I—I don’t know. My head…
You looked up, meeting the physio’s startled eyes. The fear was grappling you and you just could hold her to keep yourself calm. “I think she's concussed. She’s only speaking Dutch. She doesn’t understand you.”
“Translate, plesse?” The physio urged.
You bent closer, brushing damp strands of hair from Viv’s forehead. Her skin was clammy, her pupils wide. “Viv, luister naar me.” You murmured softly. Viv, listen to me. “Je bent op het trainingsveld. Je bent gevallen na een botsing. Het gaat goedkomen.” You’re on the training pitch. You fell after a collision. You’re going to be okay.
Her eyes flicked to yours, shaky but a little steadier. “Echt?” Really?
“Echt.” You said firmly, squeezing her hand. Then you translated quickly for the physios. “She’s aware of the collision. Dizzy, head pain, some disorientation.”
As they moved to check her vitals, you stayed kneeling at her side to translate when needed. Your right hand was laced with hers, the thumb stroking over the back of her hand. She kept looking at you instead of the staff, like the sound of your voice was the only thing she had. She didn't understand what was going on, nothing but your words made sense.
“She needs to come off.” One of the coaches said, concern edging their tone.
“No arguments.” You replied sharply, though Viv made a weak noise of protest in Dutch.
You leaned closer again, your forehead nearly brushing hers. “Geen gekke dingen, Viv,” you whispered. No stubbornness, Viv. “Laat ze voor je zorgen. Ik blijf hier.” Let them take care of you. I’ll stay right here.
Her eyes softened just enough, her grip on your fingers tightening. She didn’t resist when the physios eased her upright, your arm already steady around her back.
As they guided her carefully off the pitch, she murmured low in Dutch again. Her was voice slurred but honest. “Blijf bij me.” Stay with me.
You didn’t need to think twice. “Altijd.” You whispered back. Always.
And even though your heart was pounding from fear, there was something else threaded through. Something you couldn’t name yet, but it was stronger than panic, stronger than relief. It was the unshakable pull that had always been there between you, now sharper in the shadow of her fragility.
The physios had cleared her after a few days of rest. They still were insisting she had to take it slow, but you weren’t convinced. Well technically you were just terrified she was your Viv and she had been so hurt. Every time Viv reached for her water glass or bent to tie her laces, you were right there. Constantly near and hovering. When she needed water you'd get some, when she went to tie her shoes you were there doing it for her so she didn't have to bend over with her injury.
“You’re worse than my mam.” Viv said one evening. She rolled her eyes as you plucked the remote from her hand when she leaned forward too quickly. Her English was back now, her words sharper, more controlled. But that didn’t stop you from watching her every move.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” You shot back, settling the remote back into her lap yourself. “So, forgive me if I’m a little jumpy.”
She smirked, softer than usual. “A little? You’ve barely let me make tea on my own.”
“Exactly.” You folded your arms but stayed perched on the edge of the couch beside her, as if distance itself might tempt fate. “One wrong move and you’re dizzy again.”
She nudged your thigh gently with hers, the contact lingering a fraction longer than necessary. “I’m okay now. Really. You can relax.”
But you didn’t, not fully. Not when flashes of her dazed expression on the grass kept replaying in your head every night when you tried to close your eyes.
It was a few nights later when the nightmare hit again. You jolted awake on the sofa bed in her guest room. Your chest was heaving, the shirt damp with sweat. The images clung to you, Viv crumpling on the pitch. Her voice panicked in Dutch, her hand slipping from yours. In your dreams it was always worse than it had been in real life. In your dreams she didn't wake up.
The door creaked. “Hey.” Viv’s voice was soft but clear. She was leaning against the frame. An oversized hoodie draped over her frame and her eyes heavy with sleep. “You okay?”
You tried to steady your breathing. “I… I’m fine. Just a dream.”
She frowned and stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Didn’t sound fine.” Her hand brushed your arm as if she was trying to help you come back to reality and get calm again. “What was it about?”
For a moment you considered brushing it off. But the worry in her gaze and the warmth of her hand. You couldn't lie to her. Not to your Viv.
“It was you.” You whispered. “Your accident. You went down and I couldn’t get you back up. I kept seeing it again and again, and I was so…” Your voice cracked. “So scared, Viv. I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her thumb moving in slow circles over your arm. Then she mumbled gently. “That’s why you’ve been hovering so much.”
You gave a shaky laugh and looked at the older dutch girl with soft eyes. “Guilty.”
Her expression softened, eyes searching yours. “You care about me too much to hide it.”
You blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She leaned in, her forehead nearly touching yours. Her voice dropped low and she stroked over your cheek. “It means I feel the same. I didn’t realize how much until that day, when everything went black and the only voice I could hear was yours. You… you’re it for me.”
Your heart stuttered, something unspoken finally breaking free. “Viv…”
“Say it.” She whispered.
You swallowed, then let the truth fall out. “Ik hou van jou.” I love you.
Her answering smile was soft and certain. Before you could lose your nerve, she closed the distance and pressed her lips to yours. It wasn't hurried or desperate. Just a slow and loving kiss that tasted like relief, like home. Both of you were smiling softly into the kiss.
When she pulled back, she rested her head against yours. “Goed dat je hier bent.” She murmured in Dutch, her voice was thick with emotion. It’s good that you’re here.
● Leah doesn’t do things by halves, and that includes loving you. When she falls for you, she falls just as hard for your child.
Leah is calm under pressure she plays in front of 90,000 people at Wembley without breaking a sweat. But the day she officially met your four-year-old? She was terrified.
She showed up at your door with her secret weapon: a Lego set .
Within twenty minutes, she was sitting cross-legged on your living room floor room patiently helping your kid snap the bricks together .When you watched her gently guide their tiny hands to fit a piece into place, you knew you were in trouble.
● Her entire career is built on anticipating danger and shielding what’s important. That instinct transfers directly to your child.
If you go to a crowded park Leah's awareness is on overdrive. She knows exactly where your kid is at all times.
If another kid pushes yours on the playground, Leah has to suppress the urge to step in. Instead, she just picks your kid up and says in a calm voice, "We don't worry about them, yeah? You're stronger than that."
● Your kid is practically royalty at the Emirates and Meadow Park.
They have a tiny Arsenal kit with "WILLIAMSON 6" printed on the back. When you walk them down to the family section, the stewards all know them by name.
Because stadiums are loud, Leah bought them a pair of heavy duty, noise canceling ear protectors . She customized them herself with little Arsenal stickers.
● You didn't just get a girlfriend your child gained a group of crazy aunts.
Auntie Lotte : Brings them arts and crafts, paints with them, and treats them like a tiny artist.
Auntie Beth : Winds them up entirely too much. She feeds them sugar, teaches them terrible jokes, and hands them back to you right before the sugar crash hits.
Auntie Keira : Tries to teach them how to pass a football but gets accidentally too tactical.Your child is four and just wants to kick it into the bushes
● Leah loves doing the school drop off.
The other parents at the school gates are usually starstruck but Leah doesn't even notice them. She’s too busy crouching down to your kid’s eye level, fixing their collar, and giving them a high five before they run inside.
● Being a single parent means carrying the mental load of a household entirely by yourself. The first time Leah stepped in it actually made you cry.
You were exhausted, trying to cook dinner while your child was having a screaming toddler meltdown on the kitchen floor.
Leah didn't panic. She didn't ask "What do I do?" She just calmly walked in and scooped your crying child off the floor.
She looked at you exhausted, and said, "Go sit on the sofa love . I’ve got dinner. I've got them." It was the first time in years you realized you didn't have to carry it all alone.
● Your child loves Leah reading them bedtime stories .
She gets really into character voices. Her Peppa Pig impression is very accurat, but she refuses to do it in front of anyone but the two of you.
Sometimes you’ll walk past your child’s bedroom only to find Leah fast asleep half hanging off the toddler bed with your kid safely tucked into her side.
● For the first few months Leah was very respectful of boundaries. She always referred to them as "your" kid.
But one day, you were at a team barbecue, and your child was running toward the edge of a small pond.
Leah instinctively dropped her plate and caught them before they could fall in. When she carried them back to the table Alessia asked what happened.
"Oh, nothing," Leah sighed sitting the kid on her lap and pressing a kiss to their messy hair. "Our little one just decided they wanted to go for a swim."
Our little one.
Leah didn't even realize she said it. But you caught it. And as you watched Leah dirt off your child's cheek you realized she wasn't just your girllfriend anymore. She had became family.
Your shared apartment was supposed to be neutral territory. There were no Arsenal on the walls, and there was absolutely zero Chelsea blue in the decor.
But tonight, walking through the front door felt like stepping onto a landmine.
Every muscle in your body was aching, your calves were burning, and there was a massive bruise forming on the side of your left thigh.
You limped slightly as you walked into the living room.
Leah was already there. She had showered at the Emirates, and was currently sitting on the sofa wearing a pair of grey joggers and a plain white t-shirt. An ice pack was strapped to her knee. She was staring straight ahead at the blank television screen, her jaw locked so tight you could practically hear her teeth grinding.
Arsenal had lost 2-1.
And in the 89th minute, you were the one who had scored the winning goal.
"Hi," you said cautiously, hovering near the kitchen island.
Leah didn't look at you. She didn't even blink. "You’re sleeping in the spare room."
"Leah, come on—"
"I am entirely serious, YN," Leah said, finally turning her head. "If you sleep in my bed tonight, I might subconsciously smother you with a pillow."
You let out an exhausted sigh, walking around the kitchen counter and leaning against it. "We have the 48-hour rule. We leave the derby on the pitch."
"You didn't leave it on the pitch!" Leah suddenly snapped, her competitive edge flaring to life. She pointed an accusing finger at you. "You nutmegged me! In front of sixty thousand people! You deliberately put the ball through my legs!"
"You gave me the space!" you defended, your own adrenaline spiking. "I’m a forward, Leah! What did you want me to do, pass it backward out of politeness?!"
"I wanted you to have some respect for your girlfriend!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Lotte hasn't stopped laughing since the final whistle! Katie patted me on the back and told me I got 'done' in my own house!"
"Oh, you're the victim here?" you scoffed, stepping away from the counter and walking toward the sofa. You pulled up the leg of your Chelsea track pants, pointing to the massive, ugly purple bruise on your thigh. "Minute 72, Williamson! You slide-tackled me so hard I actually saw my life flash before my eyes! You sent me flying into the advertising boards!"
Leah looked at the bruise. For a split second a flash of genuine guilt crossing her features. But her pride was too wounded to back down.
"I got the ball," Leah stated stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.
"You did not get the ball!" you yelled, throwing your hands in the air. "The referee gave me a free kick!"
"The referee was blind!" Leah shot back, standing up from the sofa. She ignored the ice pack sliding down her leg, closing the distance between you until she was standing closer eyes locked on you with a intimidating glare. "It was a perfectly clean challenge."
You refused to back down. "You were just mad because I was beating your defensive line all afternoon."
"I was not getting beaten," Leah growled."You got lucky."
"Is that what you’re telling yourself?" you mocked softly, stepping even closer. The tips of your sneakers were touching hers. The anger was rapidly dissolving, replaced by a heavy tension that only ever happened when the two of you collided. "That the Chelsea striker just got lucky?"
Leah’s eyes darkened, her gaze dropping to your mouth for a second before snapping back up to yours.
"I hate you," Leah whispered.
"I know," you whispered back.
Leah’s restraint snapped.
She reached out, her hands gripping your waist with a desperate force backed you up until you hit the wall of the hallway. Her mouth crashed down onto yours, entirely erasing the rivalry, the scoreline, and the argument.
The kiss was explosive. It was rough, hungry, and fueled by the adrenaline of the derby. You opened your mouth for her instantly, your hands flying up to tangle in her blonde hair, pulling her closer. Leah let out a low groan against your lips, her tongue sweeping in to dominate the kiss, proving that even if she lost on the pitch, she was in absolute control here.
She pressed her thigh between yours, pinning you to the wall, her hands sliding under the hem of your shirt to touch your bare skin. Her calloused palms were burning hot.
"You drive me absolutely insane,"Leah panted, tearing her mouth away to drag open mouthed kisses down the line of your jaw to your neck.
"You started it," you gasped, your fingers digging into her shoulders as her teeth grazed your neck. "You tackled me."
"I'll kiss it better," she promised, her breath hot against your skin, her hands gripping your hips to lift you slightly.
You wrapped your legs around her waist, anchoring yourself to her as she carried you away from the wall and down the hallway toward the bedroom.
When she dropped you onto the mattress, following you down instantly to trap you beneath her she braced her forearms on either side of your head.
"Just for the record," Leah mumbled, leaning down until her lips brushed yours. "You are still sleeping in the spare room tonight."
You laughed pulling her down by the collar of her shirt. "Shut up, Williamson."
Leah thought she got this whole Hawaiian thing down but once again she's left confused.
Word Count 900
Warnings-None
Masterlist
AN- I was requested to make more with Hawaiian reader so here you go
Leah Williamson was a woman who deeply appreciated structure. She liked rules. She liked
definitions.
Which is why dating you was a constant, hilarious test of her sanity.
Leah sat at the kitchen island, sipping her morning tea, watching you move around the kitchen making breakfast. You had your phone propped up against a bag of coffee beans, on FaceTime with your cousin back in Honolulu. Due to the time difference, it was late Saturday night for them, and early Sunday morning for you.
"Aloha, Keoni!" you chirped happily as the screen connected, flipping a pancake in the pan. "Howzit?"
Leah took a sip of her tea, mentally checking the box. Aloha = Hello. Sorted.
You listened to your cousin talk for a minute, laughing loudly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Eh, tell Auntie I send my aloha, yeah? Miss her cooking."
Leah’s brow furrowed slightly. Her teacup hovered in the air. Aloha = Love?
Affection? Alright, a bit confusing, but acceptable.
"Aurite, brah, I gotta go," you said, plating the pancakes. "Leah stay looking at me like I got two heads. Give da ohana hugs for me. Shoots, aloha!"
You tapped the screen to hang up and turned around, carrying two plates of food.
You stopped.
Leah was staring at you.
"What?" you laughed, setting a plate in front of her. "Why you looking at me like that?"
"Y/N," Leah started, her voice incredibly serious. "I need you to look me in the eye and tell me how the English translation of that conversation makes any sense."
"It made perfect sense," you defended, stealing a piece of bacon off her plate.
"You used the exact same word to greet him, to send your love to your aunt, and to say goodbye," Leah stated, ticking them off on her fingers. "Three entirely different concepts. One word. How? How do you know which one you’re using? Is it a tone thing? Is it telepathy? I am losing my mind."
You burst out laughing, leaning against the counter across from her. "Babe, it’s just aloha. It’s context clues."
"I am British, darling," Leah sighed. "We have a different word for every subtle shift in the weather. What if I say hello and I mean goodbye? It's like that movie Miss Congeniality."
"It’s not just hello and goodbye, Le," you smiled, shaking your head. "Aloha is... it’s da kine. It’s a whole vibe. It means love, peace, compassion. It literally translates to 'the presence of breath' or 'the breath of life.' It’s about how you treat people."
"So," Leah reasoned slowly, squinting at you. "If I accidentally step on Katie’s toe in training tomorrow... can I say 'aloha'?"
"No!" you wheezed, covering your face. "If you step on her toe, you say sorry! If you say aloha after stepping on someone, you sound like a psychopath!"
"But you just said it means compassion!" Leah argued, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I am trying to show compassion for her crushed toe! Why doesn't it work?!"
"Because you don't use it as an apology!" you giggled, walking around the kitchen island. You stepped right between her parted knees, wrapping your arms loosely around her neck. "You’re overthinking it, you lolo British girl."
Leah huffed, her hands instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you against her. The frustration immediately melted out of her shoulders as she looked up into your eyes.
"I just want to understand you," Leah mumbled, a light blush touching her cheeks. "I want to be able to speak your language without sounding like an absolute tourist."
"You already speak my language," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You take care of me. You make me tea. You hold my hand when we walk down the street. That’s showing aloha."
Leah’s eyes softened staring up at you.She let the linguistic rules go, resting her forehead against your chest with a contented sigh.
"Alright," Leah murmured, her thumb drawing lazy circles on your hip. "I think I get it. It’s a feeling."
"Exactly," you beamed.
Leah tilted her head back up, a slow, incredibly smug smirk spreading across her face.
"So," Leah dropped her voice to that low register she used when she was trying to be charming. She pulled you an inch closer. "If I were to say... I have a massive amount of aloha for you right now. Did I use it correctly?"
You cringed so hard your entire body physically recoiled. You dropped your head onto her shoulder with a loud groan.
"Oh my god, no," you whined, laughing into her t-shirt. "That was so pain. Please never say that in front of my family. My uncles will roast you until the end of time."
"What?!" Leah says, genuinely offended, her ears turning bright red. "I used it as affection! I followed the rules!"
"It was the delivery, babe!" you giggled, kissing her hot cheek. "You sounded like a bloke in a rom-com trying to buy a surfboard."
"Right, that's it," Leah grumbled, standing up from the stool and scooping you effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Leah! My pancakes!" you shrieked, laughing uncontrollably as she carried you out of the kitchen.
"The pancakes can wait!" Leah called out, marching toward the bedroom. "I am going to aggressively tickle you until you admit my Hawaiian is flawless! Aloha, Y/N! Aloha!"
"You're using it wrong again!" you yelled.
"I don't care!" she laughed, tossing you onto the mattress.
Summary- You fell down the stairs naked in front of my team and all you can say is oops?
Warnings-None
Masterlist
AN-Just posting old fanfiction
You genuinely thought they were in the garden.
Leah had told you she was having a few of the Arsenal girls over for a post training FIFA tournament and pizza, but when you got home from the gym, you heard loud cheering coming from the backyard. Assuming you had the house to yourself for at least twenty minutes, you went straight upstairs, stripped off your sweaty gym clothes, and took a long, hot shower.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, you realized you had forgotten to grab a towel from the hallway closet.
No big deal, you thought. I’ll just make a quick dash to the bedroom.
You were entirely naked.
You took two steps down the upstairs landing. What you didn't account for was the dampness of your bare feet on the hardwood floor right at the edge of the staircase.
Your heel slipped.
It wasn't a graceful stumble.
Thud. Bang. Crash.
You slid down the last six stairs on your backside, your arms flailing wildly to catch the banister, missing entirely, before you finally landed in a groaning heap on the living room rug.
For a second, you just laid there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the pain to register and thanking the universe that you hadn't broken your neck.
Then, you noticed the silence.
The loud noise of the Arsenal squad that usually filled your house had completely vanished.
You slowly lifted your head.
Sitting on your living room sofa, completely frozen in shock, were Katie,Beth,Lotte,and Alessia. A slice of pepperoni pizza was hovering halfway to Beth’s mouth. Katie was holding an Xbox controller, her eyes wide.
And standing right in the center of the room, holding a bowl of popcorn, was Leah.
Leah’s jaw was unhinged. She was staring at you sprawled out on the rug, stark naked, rubbing your bruised elbow with an expression of absolute horror.
Nobody blinked. Nobody breathed.
You looked at the starting lineup of the Arsenal Women’s team. You looked down at your entirely bare body. You looked back up at your girlfriend, whose face was rapidly turning the color of a fire engine.
"Oops," you squeaked weakly.
The silence shattered.
"EYES AVERTED! EVERYONE LOOK AT THE CEILING!" Leah shrieked, dropping the bowl of popcorn entirely.
Popcorn flew everywhere as Leah scrambled into action. She ripped her hoodie off the back of an armchair and dove onto the floor, throwing it completely over your head and torso like you were a fire that needed to be put out.
"Oh my god," Beth gasped, covering her eyes with her hands, though she was shaking with suppressed laughter. "I didn't see anything! I swear!"
"Speak for yourself, I saw everything," Katie cackled, dropping her controller. She leaned over the sofa,delighted by the chaos. "Nice form on the landing, to be fair, Y/N! Eight out of ten for the dismount!"
"Katie, shut up!" Leah yelled, her voice cracking in pure panic as she knelt on the rug, frantically trying to wrap the hoodie around your waist to preserve whatever dignity you had left.
Lotte was staring very respectfully at a blank patch of drywall, sipping her water. "You’ve got lovely hardwood floors, Leah. Really nice grain."
"I thought you guys were in the garden," you mumbled from underneath the heavy fabric of Leah's hoodie, your face burning.
"It started raining!" Leah hissed, hauling you up by the armpits. She kept her body positioned directly between you and her teammates, acting as a human shield. "We came inside five minutes ago! Why don't you own a towel?!"
"I forgot it!" you whispered frantically, clutching the hoodie desperately around your waist to cover your lower half. "Are my legs bruised?"
"I don't care about your legs, I care that my teammatesjust saw you naked!" Leah whisper yelled.
She turned you around, practically marching you back toward the stairs.
"It was very nice to see you, Y/N!" Alessia called out cheerfully from the kitchen island, completely unbothered. "Literally!"
"Do not look at her, Lessi!" Leah barked over her shoulder, shoving you up the first step. "Nobody look!"
Leah shoved you all the way back up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you both.
You stood in the middle of the bedroom, clutching her hoodie around your waist, wincing slightly as the bruise on your hip started to throb.
Leah stood with her back pressed against the bedroom door. She dragged both of her hands down her face, taking a deep breath.
"I am the Captain of England," Leah whispered into her hands, sounding like she was having an existential crisis. "I have an OBE. I am a respected professional."
"I'm sorry," you whimpered, limping over to the bed to sit down.
Leah dropped her hands.
"You fell down the stairs naked in front of my team," Leah said, her voice rising an octave, "and all you could say was 'oops'?"
"I panicked!" you defended, hiding your red face in your hands. "What was I supposed to say? 'Welcome to my home, would you like a drink?!' I hit my tailbone on the third step, Leah, my brain wasn't working!"
Leah stared at you.
Then, a laugh escaped her. She tried to bite her lip to stop it, but the ridiculousness of the last sixty seconds finally broke through her humiliation. She covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she slid down the back of the bedroom door until she was sitting on the floor, laughing so hard no sound was coming out.
"It's not funny!" you groaned, falling backward onto the mattress. "I can never look Katie in the eye again! I have to move to a different country!"
"Katie is going to bring this up at my wedding," Leah wheezed, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. "She is going to bring this up at my funeral. I am never going to live this down."
"Please tell me you’re going to kick them out so I can get dressed."
"No," Leah snorted, finally catching her breath and pushing herself up off the floor. She walked over, still smiling, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You are going to put on a very thick, very unrevealing pair of sweatpants, and you are going to come downstairs and eat pizza with us."
"I would rather die."
"You're facing the music, babe," Leah smirked.She walked toward your closet and tossed a pair of grey joggers at your head. "But look on the bright side."
"There is no bright side, Leah."
"Well," Leah winked, her eyes dancing with mischief as she opened the bedroom door. "At least now they know exactly why I'm always rushing home after training.”
"Alright, she’s all yours, Miss Williamson. The procedure went perfectly, but she’s still heavily under the influence of the anesthesia. She’s going to be quite... chatty."
Leah stood in the recovery room of the oral surgeon’s clinic, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie. She offered the nurse a polite, charming smile. "I can handle chatty. Thank you."
The nurse pulled back the privacy curtain.
You were sitting in a reclining medical chair, staring blankly at the wall. Your mouth was stuffed with cotton gauze, and you were blinking very, very slowly.
"Hey, babe," Leah said softly, walking over and crouching down next to the chair. She rested a warm hand on your knee. "How are we feeling? Ready to go home?"
You slowly turned your head to look at her.
You took a moment to focus. You looked at Leah’s face. Then, your eyes drifted upward.
Leah had just come from a morning training session. She hadn't showered yet, meaning her blonde hair was pulled up into a messy, slightly sweaty bun, with loose, golden strands framing her face. The fluorescent lights of the clinic were hitting the blonde highlights perfectly.
You let out a loud, dramatic gasp, your jaw dropping open which immediately made you wince.
"What?" Leah panicked slightly, her protective instincts immediately kicking in. "Are you in pain? Do I need to get the doctor back?"
"Shhh," you mumbled, your voice heavily slurred and muffled by the cotton in your mouth. You reached out with a clumsy, uncoordinated hand. "Your... your head."
"My head?" Leah frowned, deeply confused.
"It's glowing," you whispered in absolute awe. You managed to poke her right in the forehead with your index finger. "Are you... are you an angel?"
Leah’s panic instantly evaporated, replaced by a poorly concealed smirk. She caught your wandering hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "No, Y/N. I'm Leah. Your girlfriend. Come on, let’s get you to the car."
“It's so shiny”.
"My girlfriend is an angel," you declared loudly to the empty room as Leah carefully hauled you to your feet. You draped your entire body weight against her side. "She has a halo. A fluffy, golden halo."
"That’s my hair, babe," Leah laughs, wrapping a arm around your waist to keep you from walking into a medical cart. "You've seen it every day for two years."
"I have never seen anything like it," you argued passionately, stumbling slightly as she guided you out the back exit of the clinic. "It’s like... gold. Like Rumpelstiltskin."
"You mean Rapunzel?" Leah laughed, opening the passenger door and carefully maneuvering you into the seat.
"Don't correct me, Angel," you slurred, slumping back into the seat.
The drive home was interesting.
The anesthesia had completely removed your verbal filter. As Leah navigated the busy London traffic, you spent the entire ride twisted in your seat, just staring at the side of her head.
"Look at it," you mumbled, reaching across the center console. Your fingers clumsily brushed against the loose blonde strands falling down the back of her neck. "It’s so shiny. Do you polish it?"
"Y/N, please," Leah laughed, gently batting your hand away without taking her eyes off the road. "I need to check my blind spot. Stop stroking my neck."
"Why is it so soft?" you demanded, ignoring her completely and burying your hand directly into the messy bun on top of her head. "Are you part golden retriever? Is that why you fetch footballs?"
"I am a center back, not a golden retriever," Leah corrected, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress a fit of giggles. "I intercept footballs. I don't fetch them."
"You're a very good girl," you praised, patting her head.
"Okay, hands in your lap," Leah ordered, reaching over and gently pulling your wrist away from her hair, interlacing her fingers with yours. "If you keep distracting me, I’m going to crash the car, and then Jonas will yell at me."
"I will fight Jonas," you threatened, your words completely muffled by the gauze. "Nobody yells at the golden girl."
By the time Leah managed to get you out of the car, up the elevator, and into your shared apartment, you were practically weeping over the sheer majesty of her hair.
Leah deposited you onto the plush cushions of the living room sofa. "Stay right there. I’m going to get your pain meds and a glass of water, okay?"
She turned to walk toward the kitchen, but you shot your hand out with surprising speed, grabbing the fabric of her hoodie.
"Don't take the sun away," you whined, looking up at her with tear filled eyes.
"I am walking three feet to the sink, Y/N," Leah sighed.
"I need it," you sniffled, pointing a finger at her head. "It gives me strength."
Defeated by a heavily medicated adult, Leah grabbed the pills and the water, returning to the sofa. She sat down on the floor right in front of you. "Here. Take these. Swallow, don't chew."
You swallowed the pills with a sip of water. The moment the glass was out of your hands, your fingers went right back in on your target.
You leaned forward, grabbed the hair tie holding Leah’s messy bun together, and yanked it out.
"Hey!" Leah protested.
"Whoa," you say, your eyes wide. You put both of your hands into her hair, massaging her scalp and running your fingers through the golden strands like it was the most fascinating texture on planet Earth. "It's like... a shampoo commercial. But in 3D."
Leah just surrendered. She rested her elbows on your knees, letting her head drop back slightly as you enthusiastically played with her hair. She had to admit, having her scalp massaged actually felt incredible, even if the person doing it was currently high as a kite.
Her phone, sitting on the coffee table, suddenly began to ring. It was a FaceTime call from Katie .
Leah reached over and swiped to answer, propping the phone up against a candle.
"Alright, Williamson?" Katie’s loud Irish voice filled the living room. On the screen, Katie was sitting in the Arsenal physio room with Beth. "Just checking in. Did you pick up the patient?"
"I did," Leah said dryly, looking into the camera.
"How is she?" Beth asked, leaning into the frame.
"See for yourselves," Leah sighed, shifting slightly so the camera could see you on the sofa behind her.
You were entirely oblivious to the phone call. You were currently holding a large section of Leah’s blonde hair right up to your face, squinting at it in the dim living room light.
"Y/N?" Katie called out, bursting into a huge grin. "What are you doing?"
You looked up, squinting at the phone screen. "Katie," you said, your voice entirely serious and muffled by the gauze. "Did you know Arsenal signed the sun?"
Katie and Beth instantly erupted into laughter.
"The sun?" Katie wheezed.
"Yes," you nodded, gesturing to Leah’s head. "Look at it. It’s glowing. She’s a magical creature. She’s made of actual sunshine."
Leah buried her face in her hands, her ears turning bright red. "Please end the call, Katie."
"Absolutely not!" Beth shrieked, practically climbing over Katie’s shoulder to look at the screen. "Y/N, tell us more about Leah’s magical hair!"
"It smells like happy things," you informed the Arsenal forwards solemnly, taking a fistful of Leah’s hair and bringing it to your nose to sniff loudly. "And it’s so shiny. I think she’s a majestic lion."
"A majestic lion!" Katie roared, banging her hand against the physio table. "Williamson, I am never letting you live this down! The Lioness with the magical hair!"
"I'm hanging up," Leah threatened, reaching for the phone.
"No, wait!" you panicked, grabbing Leah by the shoulders and pulling her backward into your chest so she couldn't reach the coffee table. You wrapped your arms tightly around her neck, burying your face in her blonde hair. "She’s mine. You can't have the golden retriever. Go away, Katie."
"We're leaving! Enjoy your golden retriever!" Beth cackled as the screen finally went black.
Leah let out a long, exhausted sigh, though her body was vibrating with suppressed laughter. She was currently trapped sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, with your arms locked around her neck.
"You are going to be so embarrassed when the anesthesia wears off," Leah says, reaching up to gently pat your arm.
"Never," you mumbled, the exhaustion of the surgery and the pain meds finally starting to kick in. Your eyelids were getting incredibly heavy. "I love your hair. I love you."
Leah’s teasing smile melted into a look of soft affection.She shifted her weight, turning around so she could climb up onto the sofa next to you.
She pulled the throw blanket off the back of the sofa, tucking it securely around you.
You immediately slumped sideways, resting your head right against her chest. Your hand blindly reached up, your fingers weakly tangling into the ends of her blonde hair, holding onto it like a toddler with a blanket.
"I've got you, love," Leah whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.
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