I think I’ll miss you most of all. Despite everything, I’ll always be truly grateful to you for introducing me to the world of woman’s football. I looked forward to watching you play every single time, and it won’t be the same without you on the pitch.
There will never be another number 11 like you La reina. You’re loved and appreciated by so many, and I will truly miss you. It won’t be the same watching Barça play and not seeing you on the pitch. What a journey it’s been. Gracias por todo lo que has hecho ❤️💙
Where did you see alexia left i havent seen it anywhere
On X my friend.
🚨 JUST IN | Alexia Putellas’ departure from FC Barcelona will be announced tomorrow at around 11:00 a.m. She is expected to join London City Lionesses.
And she’s gone. Welp. There’s lots I could say, but right now, I’m kind of a little sad. Both she and Mapi were the reason I became a fan of Barça, and it’s going to be weird to see them gone. I hope whatever reasons she’s chosen to go are good ones.
Ingrid’s transfer had been inevitable, you both knew that. Barcelona’s financial situation, the politics of women’s football, Ingrid’s desire for a new challenge. It made sense. But knowing something intellectually and living through the reality of it were two completely different things.
Your once shared apartment in Barcelona felt empty without her. Her things were gone, bar a thing of two here and there, and it was quiet. There was no one to scold you for leaving your dirty clothes on the floor; to glare at you for stealing the covers. There was no one there to share meals with, or to hold at night. Sure, you had Mapi around sometimes, and Alexia, but it wasn’t the same. Not really. They tried, and it was okay when they’re here, but then they had to go and the emptiness creeps back in.
It’s only been twenty seven days since you’d last seen her, yet it feels like an eternity. Maybe even ten eternities. Was that even a thing? Probably. You didn’t know. Either way, seeing her face through a phone screen the two times you’d had the opportunity to do so since she’d left just wasn’t the same. You’d barely texted one another, or called.
And you get it. You didn’t blame her. She was settling in. New place. New team. New life. New everything, really. But the distance, both physical and otherwise, still stung.
Which is why you had taken a week off of work to go and surprise her.
Lyon Saint Exupéry Airport is smaller than you expected, and navigating it proves easier than Barcelona’s maze like terminals. Seeing as though you’re only staying for a week, you’d only brought a carry on bag and a rucksack with you, so you were out of the airport in no time. You flag down a taxi, giving the driver Ingrid’s address as you buckle up your seatbelt, and you take in the unfamiliar surroundings that pass by as you bite anxiously at the tip of your thumbnail.
You were nervous. Why were you nervous? Because it’s been a month, you realise. A month apart after three years of pretty much being together every second of everyday. There had only been a couple instances where you’d not been with each other, for national duty and what not, so you were bound to be at least a little nervous about seeing her again.
You soon pull up in front of a large, unfamiliar building, and after thanking the driver and paying him, probably more than necessary honestly, you get out of the car, grabbing your luggage from the trunk. It was raining lightly, and the air was slightly cold, miles different from the scorching heat back in Barcelona. You look around for a second, heart hammering as you haul your bags over your shoulder and begin climbing the few steps to the front door of the apartment building.
Your eyes immediately see the number 46, Ingrid’s apartment, and you pretend your fingers weren’t trembling as you reach up and push the buzzer. It takes about seven seconds before her voice escapes the little speaker, and you could almost cry at the sound of it. It wasn’t quite as clear as it was in person, but it was the closest it had come in nearly a month.
“Hello?”
You’re stuck for words for a second before finally finding your voice. “Hey, baby. Let me up?”
Silence for a second, before her now shocked voice fills your ears.
“Y/n?”
You laugh slightly. “Uhh, yeah. It’s me.”
Without another word, she buzzes you in, and you pull open the door and step inside. The lobby itself was rather fancy, and your eyes flicker around as you begin heading towards the elevator. You press the button for the third floor, but before the elevator door could even open, the door to the stairwell was yanked open, and there she was.
Ingrid. Your Ingrid. She freezes, breathless, wearing red sweatpants and a long white sleeve shirt, her hair in a messy side braid with no shoes on her feet. She stares at you, and for a second, in the most cliche way, time seems to stand still. And then she was moving, sprinting towards you, and you drop your luggage just in time for her to throw herself into your arms. You stumble backwards a few steps as you catch her, her legs tight around your waist, arms looped around your neck.
The tears fill your eyes without permission as you bury your face into her neck, taking in the familiar smell that was her as her hand rises to cup the back of your head. Your arms tighten around her waist, and you hear her sniffle as her hand tangles through your hair.
She was warm in your arms, solid, and she smells just as you remember.
You stand there for who knows how long before her legs loosen, and you release your grip on her just slightly as her feet meet the floor. You were still flush together, your face mere inches apart as she lifts her head to face you. Her cheeks were wet, slightly flushed, but the smile on her face was soft in a way that didn’t quite match the tears.
“You’re here.” She murmurs, but before you could respond, her arms tighten around your neck as she desperately presses her lips against your own. You kiss her back, cupping her cheek, your thumb trailing over the soft skin. The kiss wasn’t rushed or careless, but urgent in a quieter way, like she needed to feel you. Your free hand trails across her back, settling at the curve of her waist as she pulls away, soft breaths hitting your skin as she rests her forehead against your own.
“I missed you.” She murmurs, and you smile as you press a kiss to the corner of her lips, trembling fingers wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. She leans into the touch.
“I missed you so much.”
She huffs out a quiet laugh, leaning forward and tucking her face back into your neck. “How long do I have you for?” You hear her ask, voice quiet, hopeful.
You rock her side to side. “I managed to get a week off.”
“A whole week?” She pulls back, and you nod, laughing as she adjusts her grip and wraps her arms around your waist, lifting you up and squeezing you tight. Your arms wrap around her neck, kissing the side of her head as she playfully rocks you side to side, your feet swinging aimlessly against her shins.
“As much as I’m loving this, maybe we could go inside? I wanna see your apartment.” You say against her hair, and you feel her nod, squeezing you once more before setting you down. She grabs one of your bags before you could stop her, hauling it over her shoulder and waiting for you to grab the other before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the elevator. It had closed and moved floors since you’d first pressed the button, so you have to wait a few seconds before you were able to step inside.
Neither of you could seem to look away from each other on the journey up, and the second you were inside her apartment, you barely had time to set down your things and look around before she was dragging you back into her arms, both of you stumbling back against the front door that closes with a rather loud thud behind you. You fall against her, and you both remain in the entryway of her apartment for what feels like forever, simply holding each other.
You were able to see bits of her apartment from where your head was resting on her shoulder. It was decorated similarly to your shared apartment back in Barcelona, homey in a way you weren’t really expecting but were secretly glad for.
“I missed you.” You hear her say again, quiet against your shoulder, hands creeping up your shirt and hoodie to meet the warm skin at the small of your back. You pull back slightly, eyes trailing over the familiar curves of her face before making contact with her own.
“I missed you, so much.” You admit, your words not really an admission as much as they were a quiet confession that had been sitting on your chest for honestly far too long. “So, so much.”
“Yeah?” She smiles, cupping your cheek and trailing the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip. You press a kiss to the digit as you secure your arms tighter around her, nodding your head as you lean in to kiss her again.
The kiss lingers for a few moments before you both pull away. “How are things going? Have you settled in okay?” You ask, tucking a strand of messy hair behind her ear.
Ingrid smiles, but it wasn’t a genuine as the one she’d given you before. “The football is wonderful and the team is great…” she trails off.
“But?”
“But everything else… It is like learning to live in a new skin, you know? Different language, different culture, different everything. And not having you there to come home to…”
“It’s hard.”
“Yeah.” She breaths.
“But you’re okay? Happy?”
Ingrid hesitates before nodding her head, a small smile slipping onto her lips. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods again, cupping your cheeks and pressing a chaste kiss to your nose. Your face scrunches up in response, and she grins, one you can’t help but mimic as you place your hands on her hips, tugging her close.
“Now that you’re settled, I can visit more.” You tell her. “More than once a month, if that’s okay?”
Her eyebrows raise as her fingers tangle through the baby hairs at the back of your neck. You suppress a shiver at the action, and she smiles. “If that’s okay? If I had it my way you’d be here all the time.”
“If only,” you murmur wistfully.
“One day. Lyon won’t be forever.”
“No?” You question hopefully.
“No.” She murmurs gently, shaking her head.
“I’ll guess I’ll just have to be patient then.”
Ingrid simply hums quietly, and you remain embraced for a few more moments before you reluctantly tug yourself away, just partially, enough to see her face. “Show me around?” You ask, and Ingrid nods her head as she presses one last chaste kiss to your lips.
✧ summary; the tension between you and lucy comes to a head after a particularly eventful game
✧ tags; heavy smut with plot, friends w benefits (to lovers), chelsea!r, jealous dom lucy, oral/fingering, strap-ons, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, aftercare + fluff, casparij makes a brief appearance
my favourite x reader I’ve ever done, enjoy and read tags! oh and dt @museanddream and @vixwritesagain because this post sparked the inspo
Most of the time Lucy could look you in the eye with nothing but respectful intentions. Most of the time you could do the same.
Most of the time you could talk over Cobham's canteen food, and not get overly distracted, or get a blood-hot flashback to something she said to you months ago while your back was planted against a mattress.
But sometimes, sometimes you watch her in training, and die inside. Because she is the best you've ever had. And you can't deny it.
And sometimes, you need her more than you need the breath she pulled from you with a single look. Or the strength she disarmed from you with the lightest touch.
Lucy is confidence and grit personified, but it's her sickly-sweet interior, her choice to be gentle, that really makes your heart soar.
It wasn't like you were dating. It wasn't like you needed to date her to be sure of how you felt, either. But now you're back in her space more often, a forgettable flame has become monstrous. Dangerous, even.
It shifts with a text.
L.B—Caught you looking today x
It was too late at night not to be something incredibly flirty. Lucy was up, most likely in bed, thinking about the fact that you were watching her.
At what?
You reply, feet shifting beneath your duvet. Lucy didn't intimidate you, not anymore, but God—she had a way.
L.B—My hands.
Your breath comes sharp. She wasn't wrong. You wouldn't pretend to deny it. The pause prompts Lucy to message again.
L.B—Nothing to be ashamed of
You answer back with less of a smirk. More of a tremble, more of a spiked hit of desire. The hungry kind, that comes on quick and hard and overwhelms you, taking you from nothing to everything.
Then I'm not ashamed. You know I think you're hot
L.B—You're sweet. I'm not ashamed to say I've been thinking about you either
L.B—I know you stopped seeing the girl. What happened?
Haha who told you. It just didn't work out, no chemistry. No banter.
L.B—Hard to contend with us I suppose, on both fronts
What prompted this?
L.B—Thinking about you letting someone else touch you. Doesn't feel right.
And how many times have you touched me?
L.B—Enough times to know I'm hard to beat
You leave it there. Leaving her with the anticipation couldn't possibly have a bad outcome, right?
You end up on the grass, laughing with other girls, muddying your hair and flushing your cheeks. Lucy can only sit on the sidelines, ice-pack to her shin, Nat stood with arms crossed and a faintly amused smile beside her.
Maybe it was the playful slap of your ass from another girl, the mention of your ex's name in conversation, or the distant sound of you discussing your type later on in the day, but Lucy can't draw her eyes away from you, or what you have to say, or what you want to do.
Lucy could be quiet about it, respectful, but never subtle. She laughs with you in the gym, critiquing your form, any excuse to put a hand on your shoulder. It stifles your laughter, and she doesn't break eye contact. The tension only made this game more worthy of playing.
It was surely close to an open secret that you two had slept together more than once. Not many times. But a small handful. Two or three. But it felt glaringly obvious when you two went from friendly to inseparable this time around. Whether it was you or Lucy who felt the switch first, you aren't sure. But it happens. Oh, it happens.
Sitting on the night coach to Manchester beside her hadn't been intentional. Luck of the draw, or of Sio deciding to leave you for Hannah.
Lucy approaches you with an indifferent smile, wired headphones in, effortlessly hauling her bag onto the overhead. "Put yours up." She extends a hand for your bag.
"I'm fine with it here."
"No, give it."
You roll your eyes, taking your laptop out before handing it to her. Only after does she finally settle beside you.
"...Can you be still for one moment?" You complain, watching her unbuckle her belt for the third time before even departing.
"Can you be grateful I indulged you?" She grins a bit, turning on her music.
"Indulged by getting to have you fidgeting next to me for four hours? No thanks." You half-scoff, but the smile gives it away. Lucy nudges you with her shoulder.
Her voice gets quieter, leaning in just enough to be intentional. "Don't know why it matters anyway, when you're a baby. Who will be out flat as soon as we get going."
"Some sleep would do you good." You reply, thigh lightly pressed up against hers.
She leans in just enough to make your stomach flutter. "Only if you ask nicely." She mutters, before sharply averting her attention to her phone, texting someone, and you glance over twice in hope that she has more to say. No, she stays quiet. But she knows you're waiting on her. She too, was no stranger to this game.
The coach is dark, quiet, and there's nothing better to do than rest. Lucy doesn't question when your head drops to her shoulder.
After you shift a few times, trying to get comfortable, she unbuckles your belt and slips her arm around you, pulling you closer. You settle against her, softened by the tenderness, shutting your eyes with your nose pressed to her shoulder.
You swear she kisses your forehead more than once as you linger in a half-sleep—still disoriented when you quietly look for her on the walk into the hotel. But she's gone.
Your face scrunches in disgust, pulling up from the muddy turf and coughing. You spit out the bitter taste, before lifting your chin to see bodies surrounding you, voices unintelligible, followed by a mixed roar from the crowd when the referee pulls a yellow card.
Sio hauls you up, rubbing your shoulders a few times. Nothing hurt, not that badly, you just remember an ankle getting caught in your foot and your body giving in a rather twisted way.
Lucy shadows your fouler a few yards ahead, in her face with the expressive hand gestures that come out when she's particularly impassioned. For how poised and gentle she was off the pitch, she could really let the heat get to her.
You don't see what Casparij says in return, only that it was enough to prompt a scoffed huff of laughter from Lucy as she walks away.
A faint smirk plays on your face, even through the adrenaline overwhelm. Kerstin pats you absently on the back when she runs past, but it's not her you get distracted by.
You're taken off at half-time.
Your eyes and reflexes run everywhere, anxiously calculating the game and praying down to your last breath that the defence can bring it back.
But something in the back of your mind keeps giving way to less productive thoughts. Thoughts, distractions, about how tense your body is, how your adrenaline is making you tremble—for more than just a release of energy. For something more complete, more exhilarating, to be shattered in the best way possible.
You shouldn't be on the benches thinking about when the last time you had mind-breaking sex was. But you are. Hormones were...unpredictable, at best.
Then there's Lucy. Still playing, forceful and strong as ever. Knocked down, getting back up. Throwing herself at every opportunity to make a difference in the game. Watching her was maybe more anxiety-inducing than the match itself, because she seems perpetually on the edge of a disastrous move. But somehow, she drags herself through it by the skin of her teeth. Every damn time.
You couldn't take your eyes away from her even if you tried. Her legs, arms, flashes of defined torso when she lifts up her shirt or hits the ground. The expressions that you've memorised from months of knowing her, years of watching her. And now, what feels like a force of wanting her.
You tease Kerstin for the foul after the match, which leads you to swap jerseys for a photo. It's purely friendly, you know this, because you know Kerstin.
But even beyond the humiliation of losing to City, someone wasn't so happy that you were cosying up to another right-back.
You only catch her subtle glare as you head back to the demoralised team, but it was enough to tell you things had worked well in your favour. Even if by pure luck, and maybe a streak of sore-loser bitterness from a usually mellow Lucy.
L.B — Tired tonight?
You had been waiting until Lucy got to her room. Sure enough, it's only a couple of minutes before she sends you a text.
Nothing had to be said; you could read each other well enough to predict the outcome of this bout of flirtation.
Not really! I could go another 90
L.B — 45 while we're down a hat-trick and then some isn't enough?
L.B — How are you feeling? Head okay? x
Yeah, all good, better than you probably.
What did you say to Kerstin after I went down?
L.B — Can't even remember tbh, ref and manager did me right in. You're lucky to come away with nothing seriously hurt
I came away with her shirt though, how'd you feel about that
Lucy goes silent. You weren't wearing the City jersey, but you were in some skimpy nightwear. You eye the shirt across the room, and a flush of heat cuts through you at the prospect of Lucy being jealous.
L.B — Don't tease, I'm being serious
Oh I'm sure!!
L.B — Two things can be true
L.B — I can be disappointed with the game and result
L.B — And I can be petty for the girl who fancies me
But do you fancy me back?
L.B — Of course I do, gorgeous
You don't answer right away. Instead, you pull the City jersey back on, snapping a quick photo of your thumb and pointer holding the embroidered crest.
It takes Lucy a few moments to reply.
L.B — Haha
L.B — If you wanted my company tonight, you could have just said
L.B — I prefer you in black
So I'm welcome?
L.B — Nah, go see your dutchie
Your legs feel shakier than they did coming off the pitch as you frantically pull on a hoodie, quietly making your way through the corridor to Lucy's room.
You blush scarlet at the sight of her. A cropped black t-shirt hanging just an inch or two above the waistline of some grey shorts.
But there's no swooping you into her arms and having her way with you. Nor backs against walls, or bruising kisses. Instead, she's almost...timid.
You perch on the end of the bed while she sits against the headboard, inevitably discussing the game that sits at the forefront of both of your minds.
"Why're you sitting there?" She says when you both get a bit bored of unpacking the mistakes and frustrations.
You pause. "Am I not allowed?"
"I'd prefer you here."
Her arms are strong and warm, body even more so as you lie against her, thigh draped over her lap, letting yourself be held for a few silent minutes.
It seems to comfort Lucy too, and her breath softens. It's all you can hear besides the faint hum of the temperature unit—but her breath is closer, hotter, like a brail to her thoughts. Her thumb moves back and forth on your arm in slow, gentle motions.
There are no looks, no trembling touches, no unreciprocated feelings left hanging in the air. You're close and relaxed, but the tension bites nonetheless. The quiet kind, that nudges instead of forcing.
So when you can't take it any longer, you tilt your face the small bit needed to find her lips and kiss her. Lucy meets you easily with reciprocal softness and caution, her hand coming to your cheek to keep you steady. The exchange is unhurried, and thick with unmistakable intimacy. Someone who understood you, without saying a thing.
"What do you want?" Her voice drops when you finally part for breath, sultry yet patient, lips wet from the kiss. Your heart picks up in the flash of a moment, lifting your gaze to hers.
"You."
Your mouth closes into a shy smirk after, and Lucy cups your face as she speaks, quietly, through a grin. "I need more than that, sweets. Come on. Tell me what you've been thinking."
Her accent flicks and ebbs the words in the most perfect, tantalising way. Simply melting your mind. Air catches in your lungs—her gentle demeanour and sweet smile do little to help your case of her being effortlessly, unbearably attractive.
You lean into her weight more, every pulse of wordless silence compounding the need you both feel. "Been thinking about the last time we were together." You finally admit, unable to look her in the eye.
"Yeah? What about it?" Lucy answers softly, all while shifting your leg off so she can get above you instead. Her hands clasp yours, holding them just above your shoulders. Her strength, your favourite physical attribute of hers, and this position, a perfect reminder of that.
You can hardly form a response. You just want to whine. But you don't—your knees close in on her hips, urging her closer. You remember now, like a reflex; Lucy had gone wild when your legs had wrapped around her during sex.
"I liked how rough you were. And how intense it was. And how good you made me feel." You huff, before watching her patience break when she leans down to kiss your jaw, then to your neck in careful, languid motions.
"Mhm." She hums into your skin. "I liked that too. You took me well." She sinks her lips back more passionately, the pleasurable tingles flooding you with warmth.
"Need you again." You mutter, laced with desire, arms wrapping around her back as she kisses and nips with building passion on her way down.
Your eyes open when she stops abruptly. Lucy lifts a tad, wide eyes and an incredulous expression.
"Are you serious?"
She tugs the light blue jersey fabric up from beneath the collar of your hoodie.
You blush. For a few moments you'd forgotten you were still wearing it.
Lucy tries so hard to be cool about it, and it's so endearing to watch. Her fingers keep a firm grip on the shirt, before she finally speaks, slow and measured.
"I'm gonna be nice to you. You'll sit up and let me take this off for you, or you'll go back to your room and do it yourself."
The desire to provoke her further taunts you. And you come so close to doing it, but Lucy wins. Like she always does. Just with the way she looks at you, shifting from sweet to savoury with a bat of her lashes.
"You can take it off." You mutter, half ashamed, half dismissive, but Lucy nudges your chin back up.
"You made the right decision." She smirks playfully, landing a quick kiss on your lips.
She takes great pride in sitting you up, pulling the hoodie off and pursing her lips into an amused grin at the sight of the jersey. She pauses on that, and you wish you could read her thoughts.
"You're really something." She says finally. Her fingers hook around the hem of the fabric, and she roughly pulls it up, making you gasp from the switch in demeanour.
She moves a little more carefully as it's pulled over your head, but when done, she balls it up and leans over to stuff it in the empty bedside drawer.
You're left in a flimsy night top. Lucy takes it all in, no shame in her eyes.
"You can have it back. But I don't want to see it while I'm with you." She teases with nonchalance, playing up her bitterness a tad. You push yourself further onto her lap, arms circling behind her neck.
"You're so cute when you're jealous." You say smoothly, cheeks lifting in a smile.
"Am not." She mumbles, eyes glittering as she looks up at you reverently, firm hands on your waist.
"Cute or jealous?" You bring yours forward, feeling the expanse of her strong shoulders beneath the loose collar of her shirt.
"You're the cute one between the two of us. And I'm not a bit jealous." Lucy grins back.
"You're a bad liar." Your nose presses to hers, enjoying the slower moment, before tilting down so she can take you in a passionate kiss.
"No. Not jealous. Just protective." She answers, before bracing a hand on the small of your back to keep your body close, and taking your breath again by kissing you hard.
At first it's measured, just enjoying the way you work together and finding a rhythm that feels good. Lucy's tongue is careful, until you grab her chin and force her deeper. Needing her in that heavy, dizzying way that you've been thinking about for weeks now.
It was only a matter of time until she had you like this. Until you had her like this. Forgetting about the game, the fact you're well past exhaustion on a cold evening in a foreign room—it all becomes nothing.
You tellingly lose your breath, heart thrumming against your chest and a hot ache antagonising you between your legs. Lucy notices your squirming, kissing you messily as she carefully lets you down onto the mattress, staying rigid above you.
"You know what I've been thinking about." Lucy murmurs, her focus on kissing firmly down your jaw and neck.
"Mhm?" Your arms circle her back again, adoring the reminder of how she felt above you. Your hands splay, feeling across her toned body more intentionally, beneath her shirt to get her hot skin on your fingertips.
"How much you liked it when I strapped you." She smirks a little, laving her tongue over your pulse before sucking on it just enough to make you gasp and lose your thoughts entirely.
But your hand is firm on her exposed waist, moving beneath to feel her abs. She twitches at first, but sinks into it, letting you memorise every ridge and dip of her ridiculous muscles. You'd say you'll give her an ego, but she's probably already got one from the way she knows how to treat a girl.
"I did." You finally croak, losing any reservations to tease and deciding you're comfortable enough to just let her know what you want. Lucy was very giving in that way. "Can't stop thinking about it."
"I'm good with my tongue too, don't you think?" She grazes her teeth down your neck, a hand gripping your shoulder like she just can't help but keep you where she wants you.
"Yeah...but sometimes I need..." your words go empty, distracted by the way her kisses and love bites are making you squirm. It was exhilarating in the way a new lover always is—still little gaps in your understanding of each other, just enough to keep it thrilling, and the touches unexpected. But you trust Lucy irrevocably, as everyone does. So it's easy to let go, and want a little more than something soft.
"–Need to get ruined." She finishes your thoughts in a low voice, uncharacteristically relaxed as she takes her time in worshipping every inch of your skin.
You nod, once but sure. "I know." She says softly, a hand coming down to still your hips and slip one of her thighs between them instead. "Good thing I thought ahead and brought it."
Your heart stops.
"What? You brought the strap?" You say beneath your breath, Lucy's heat overwhelming you as she finally lifts her face, looking a mix of proud and weakly desperate.
"I knew you'd end up here. And I knew what I'd want to do to you."
You run your hands through her hair, biting your cheek as her weight closes in on you further and you make small, needy movements against her thigh. "I can't believe you."
"Believe it. If you want it, that is. Or there's a multitude of other ways I can please you, my girl." She drops a soft kiss on your cheek. Then the other.
"Of course I fucking do." You almost laugh, practically trembling with adrenaline.
"And you want me to be rough?" Her thigh presses into you harder in search of yours against her heat, making you groan and seal your lips in sudden pleasure.
"You make me very proud. All the time." She presses a few more kisses to your jaw, but her hand is possessive as it grasps your chin and dissipates any residual strength from your muscles.
Your stomach elicits a flutter from her praise, sweet, deepening into something more provoking.
Your lips find each other again, and a few minutes lose you while bucking into each other, swallowing down Lucy's soft moans as she grinds into you more purposefully. A guiding hand finds her firm ass—something you've only dreamt about having for yourself.
"Touch me." You rasp, and Lucy wastes no time in regretfully untangling your legs, letting your hips fall back down.
She rubs her hand across your stomach a few times, cupping your hip, calloused fingertips deliberate in their teasing.
She smiles with proud excitement when you take her tattooed wrist and push it down, her fingers slipping past the hem of your shorts. You inhale sharply, holding onto her bicep with one hand while the other clutches a ball of the duvet.
"Christ." She chuckles beneath her breath, a little red in the cheeks when her confident touch finds heat and slick. Your hips jolt at the initial sensation, every muscle tensing up.
"Relax. I've got you." Her breath ghosts your ear, and your thighs part further instinctively.
Lucy is so gentle at first, tracing through your folds with a vague precision that grows in certainty. Her body grounds you, overpowers you, and drives you mad.
You pull her head down for a heated, filthy kiss, a moan stifling into her mouth when she circles your clit a few times. "That's it." She whispers between a shaky pause for breath, then she's back on you.
You try to remember what she likes. You try to remember what you like, and what you need right now.
No...you need to stop overthinking it. Beneath her sweet and playful demeanour, beneath the poised control and unending concern for others, Lucy is as filthy as you. How could she not be, when she knows she's sexy and can treat a lover right. Sure, she can be shy about it, but damn if she wasn't eager when she had you like this.
"Luce," you whine, knees raising. She adds a second finger to her movements, dragging and rubbing with the perfect amount of wet friction.
"What, baby girl?" She murmurs low, nipping beneath your ear.
"Can't think when I'm touching you like this, can ya'." She smirks as her fingers flatten, drawing a firm path up and down the length of your sensitive cunt. It makes your hips jerk, nails digging into her shoulder. You hated to feed her ego, but in truth, there's nothing left for her to take. She knows, you know, she just wants to do. To prove that this is real.
"You did this to me." You say, rocking into her. "Made me this wet."
Lucy huffs a vague chuckle. "By doing what?"
You pause with an inhale of pleasure, settling eventually on "Everything." But it doesn't surmise the feeling. The need. "Bringing the strap, too. You're dirty." Your sharper words come quiet enough for only her to hear, but she hears you alright.
She pauses. Grinning now against your skin—but the grin fades like her inhibitions, you hear it drop in her tone as she speaks. "I'm not the one in training thinking about getting fucked stupid into the mattress by my older teammate, am I?" She sucks down on an already sensitive spot, certainly leaving a mark. It makes you whine—the feeling of it, the possession behind it, the words coming from her tongue and the perfect circling rub of her fingers on your clit all make your jaw hang open.
"That's what I thought. You're the dirty girl here." The back of her hand strains against the crotch of your shorts as she establishes the right angle to circle your entrance with her fingertip, amounting the pressure until she's easing inside.
"Let me know if it hurts." She mumbles, softer, keeping her intrusion controlled and slow, following the curve of your muscles expertly. You nod with an Mhm of affirmation, before her mouth is pressing deep into yours once more. Slower, heavy with passion.
You're so wet you hardly even notice when she pushes in to her knuckle. "That's good." You whisper to assure her.
"Yeah?" She answers with a scratch of cockiness, tilting into your fingers in her scalp. "Keep digging your nails in. And on my shoulder. Drives me mad." She groans, the kind of low and private voice that you could only dream about in hotel rooms alone.
"I remember–." You stammer, bucking into her slowly thrusting finger, which is carefully joined by a second, causing you to momentarily stiffen. Breathe she whispers. "–You practically came when I scratched your back raw."
Lucy has to bite back a wild moan. She was always a bit wild, but you get the sense that even she is struggling to handle herself right now. She burns hot from the way you clench around her, drawing her in harder with each deep thrust of her fingers.
It takes her a moment to find her voice, and when she does, it's ragged and feverish. "Too right I did. And you're going to do the same tonight. While I, well, fuck you silly into the mattress." She grins a little, and you cup the back of her neck for some sense of stability as the flexes of her fingers drag against you with almost cruel precision.
"It's what I need." You whine against her lips, wondering how this all feels so familiar, yet sharply new. You even felt a bit jealous that she had this intrinsic ability to break down people's walls, have anyone and anything she wanted. It would make you bitter, if you weren't so impassioned by her.
"Hard? You want me hard?" Lucy's elbow braces beside you, hand inching across your collarbone towards your neck to rest there. No threat of her thumb and fingers closing in, just control as she fingers you like it's a second thought.
"Hard. Want to be full of you." You groan as the pressure deep inside becomes more intense with every stroke, each motion sending a pang of bliss. Shuddering and mindless.
Her arm flexes with the effort of ignoring the fabric restrictions entirely—a quiet reminder that she'd have you. No matter what tried to stop her. Lucy wasn't demanding and greedy beyond what you would give, but it was fun to imagine that she could be. That she might be tonight, if you just say and do the right things.
"Think you're pretty eager to make me feel better after the loss. Are you wanting me to take my frustrations out on you? It's been a while. Since someone let me do that."
Her words send your mind scrambling. You know from both logic and the grin on her lips that she hadn't thought twice about the loss. Still, she has you blushing hard with the threat. And close. Heat is creeping up, orgasmic pleasure too. Embers of it, that spark that threatens to burst.
"Fuck Lucy, I can't–" your tone heightens, and she fucks you faster, filling you deep with every certain stroke and hard press of her fingertips inside. Her palm comes down onto your clit, wet enough that the rub makes your body jerk and cling to her frantically.
"I can claim you. If that's what you want." She slows down to your displeasure, just firming the drags. Her thumb closes in low on your neck, every inch of your skin now burning with passion.
"Get it, Lucy. I don't wanna—come like this. Only with you inside. Properly."
"I'll get it, darling." She answers quickly, her heavy breath warm against your numbed lips. "Only because you asked so nicely. But can you do as I say while I'm getting ready?"
"Yeah." You croak, panting still.
"Fingers down here. Don't be shy."
She carefully pulls out and away, letting the waistband of your underwear snap against your stomach. Her other hand roughly grasps your wrist, pinning it beside your head before taking you in a sudden, languid kiss.
"Can I take this off?" She whispers gently when she finally parts from your lips, instead tugging at your top. You merely nod, and she is surprisingly careful in taking it off for you.
Then she sits up. You only catch the glimmer of a smirk as her own thin tank top comes up and off in one graceful movement—and you swear you've never needed someone more.
"Do as I said then." She tosses the command leisurely as her weight leaves the bed. Your shorts come off first, tossing them to the side as Lucy rummages in her suitcase.
You awkwardly stretch your legs, catching your breath, until the desire to touch yourself comes naturally. Especially with Lucy out of view, if you distract yourself enough, you could easily imagine that you're alone.
The ease with which your own fingers can fill you up is alarming to say the least. Still sensitive and ready, it prompts a small whine, stifled by the back of your hand.
You tremble slightly, with timidity and a need that can't quite surface when Lucy's weight isn't steadying you. You catch her in the reflection of the mirror, tightening the thin harness, thick toy and a smaller bottle of lube held easily between the fingers of her other hand.
Lest you make her self-conscious, you wait for the bed to dip and her eager presence to overpower you once more. Her leg swings over, and you shudder from the faint sensation of the toy brushing between your bodies.
Then you look. Gorgeous, sparkling smile and only slightly-tired eyes bearing you like you're the prize she'd waited all season for. Incomparable to any failure or success.
With as little of a bashful edge as one could have in this position, she glances down at your hand as it trails shyly out from between your legs.
"My god. You're so good." She says it in earnest, a much softer look commanding your attention— genuine and warming.
Her hand reaches to gently wrap around your wrist, guiding your fingers into her mouth. She's close enough that you hear the sound it makes, and her sultry jade eyes don't leave yours.
There's something incredibly raw about the way she lets you watch her—not over-zealous in showing off and being crude, because she knows you can feel all the laving swirls of her tongue and the hollowing of her cheeks with intimate detail. She tastes, swallows, leaves no trace of you behind.
"Just so gorgeous." She mutters sweetly, dropping a kiss to the side of your mouth after cleaning off your fingers. "Thank you for letting me do this."
You cup the back of her neck, drifting up to grip her hairline. "Course, Luce...you're so good to me." Your nose nudges her cheek softly, pressing your lips into hers. "Trust me when I say I can handle it, okay?"
"Okay." She nods once, her hand caressing your abdomen. "And you'll tell me. If something isn't right."
"Absolutely." You answer with certainty, prompting a smile from Lucy. Her mouth lowers to yours, kissing you sensually and letting her tongue make easy work of breaking you down. Showing you just how much she wants this.
The hand on your abdomen gets firmer. Pressure on the spot she knows will make you writhe, clench around nothing, moving until she has purchase over your hip to pin it down.
"I have good mind to put you in my jersey." At first she speaks with caution, but when your face melts into a plea for more, overcome by the switch in tone, she starts to grin. "Would it be so bad if I just..." Her hand presses again, intentional over your stomach. "All in here. Fill you up. Make sure it takes." She rasps lowly.
"Lucy," You practically gasp in erotic disbelief, your pulse rapidly inclining. It was a risky suggestion on her part, but it does more for you than she even realises.
Her face is a little modest in its pride, yet her tone tells no shame. "Yeah? Stake my claim over this pretty girl? Make sure everyone knows who drives her mad?" She leans down to nip beneath your ear, and the action itself isn't that intense, but she has set you on fire. Everything feels heightened. Hazy yet heavy.
"Feel it." She demands crassly, taking your hand to the toy between your bodies.
Your fingers wrap gingerly around the thick length, and Lucy's ass raises to give you room to experiment with your strokes. Her eyes meet yours when you look up, begging and twinkling with lust.
"So hard. And big." You murmur, and Lucy jerks into you, like her muscles gave way for a split-second. Her cheeks bloom rosy, and you grin, pulling her down for a kiss.
"I'm always hard for you." She mutters fiercely, lowering to your neck, teeth nipping across in a way that sends flutters of pleasure through you.
It also, quietly, sparked something gentler in your heart to see her so comfortable and confident, so eager to please you and to let you please her.
You speak with a hiss as she tugs your skin harder between her teeth. "I knew you had this side to you, but getting off on the idea of breeding me really is something."
Lucy chokes on her breath from your glimmer of coy bravery, her hips fully stuttering.
You squeeze her cock, smirking with gratification, tugging it for good measure to make sure she feels it that time. "That's what this is. You're possessive. And jealous. And won't admit-"
"I'll admit it. I so want to knock you up tonight." Lucy's fingers bear down, low on your throat, a single pulse that stifles and breaks your gasp. "And you missy, are far too wet to be talking back." Your underwear comes down sudden and rough, pulling a small sound, something between shock and absolute desperation. Lucy's stern face has you mindless, speechless.
"Calm, baby. I'll give you what you need." She whispers softer, as if pleased with the fear she evoked in you.
Her body inches away to help you lose the underwear properly, before attacking you with a heated kiss, her lips plump and wet and making yours tingle with intimate passion.
One hand grasps your jaw steadily, the other dragging the tip of her cock teasingly through your centre. With a teasing look lifting her freckled cheeks, she circles it over your clit, making you stifle moans into the kiss.
Your hips cant up indignantly against her, arms flung desperate around her once again. The kiss distracts you from the brief lack of stimulation while she coats the toy in lube, before the bottle is tossed on the floor, her sights set elsewhere.
"You ready for me baby?" Lucy would draw this out for hours if she had any ounce of patience left. But it was late, you were both still buzzing with adrenaline from the game, and making the poor soul in the room next to you throw on their noise-cancelling headphones is about Lucy's only goal. You nod, more than enough for her to know.
The tip of her cock slips inside without warning, forcing your blunt nails to dig hard into her shoulders. "Fuck, Luce..." you whine, pulling her closer still. The intimate gesture contrasts the burning stretch—a foreign feeling in the beginning, yet the need for it was primal.
Lucy's voice comes to you softer again. "I've got you. I know it's a lot," she slides in deeper, finally letting go of the toy, freeing up her hand to grasp your shoulder instead. With a smooth grind of her hips, her skin meets yours, as full as she can get you.
The feeling is aching and sharp, while your chest feels wound tightly in the space where control once resided. She has that now. She has you.
Only balm softening it is the belief in her promise—that she'd never hurt you.
You watch the slow rise and fall of her chest as she glances down to where you're connected. She stills for only that moment. Your rapid pulse hammers in your throat, and Lucy eyes it up like she wishes to bite.
"Move." You beg quietly, clenching tight around her and senselessly bucking up to find friction when the need becomes unbearable.
She pulls a loud, broken sound from your throat with the first hard thrust. "You won't ask. You'll take."
Lucy subtly gauges your expression, pulling out and slowing back in when you wince. She leans down to kiss you messily, as you scratch down her back to let the tension out on something.
She builds up a rhythm, taking you deep with every grind at the base, stimulating every vivid nerve that runs through you. She gropes your breast, moving her thumb around your firm nipple.
Lucy was always so considerate—perhaps it was for that reason you so desperately needed her to break you. Or more aptly, you wanted to break her. Make her so horny she can't help but lose her mind in fucking you.
"Good? You like this?" She mumbles when she begins to rock into you harder, pressing the full length in but letting it drag out slowly. The pressure of her hand, her thick cock, her taut muscles, it's all unbearably intense and mind-numbing.
"You could be rougher." Strands of her hair tickle your cheek, in fact, there are so many sensations that it borders on overwhelm. The good kind. "Stop being careful." It's said with a breathless tease, hardly any conviction to your breaking voice.
Lucy just chuckles crassly in return, squeezing your shoulder. "Don't test me." Her hand moves to force your hip into the mattress, and you could have sworn she got more scarlet as her fingers tighten and she yanks you down onto her cock roughly.
You squeak with a mix of surprise and excitement, and the angle she finds makes air knot in your lungs.
"Can't do nothing but moan now, can ya' sweets. All for me. Dirty girl." Her voice is jagged at the breathless edges, almost a growl, setting a quickening pace that has your knees raising.
"Little slut thinking about my cock instead of her game." She lets the snarky words linger, settle in your mind, and when you bite into her shoulder with a groan, she knows she'd said the right thing.
"Your slut, Lucy." You affirm direly, making brief eye contact before her panting mouth meets yours. You feel rushes of heat each time she bottoms out, the pressure turning into pleasure faster than you can manage.
"Say things like that and I'll put more than one load inside of you tonight." She whispers as her strong hand finds your neck again, pushing up to grasp your jaw. "Lift your thighs. Let me get closer. And watch me. Watch me when I fuck you."
It strikes you just how few times you've witnessed a side of Lucy even remotely like this. So focused, so raw. Breathless, not for a lack of stamina, but from the way she's crumbling with desperation. The closest time is on the pitch, in the most heated moments of a deciding game, but this was far better.
Your ankles hook around her lower back, half by her request and half from pure reflex. She slams her cock to the base, grinding into you and making the sound of your own shameful moans reverberate in your ears.
"Taking it so good, aren't you my girl?" She praises hungrily when she sees you writhing, your vision blanking each time her heavy cock drags through you.
"I need to come." You sob more than state, whining louder when she starts to rub your clit. "Let me come."
"Only if I can hear you." Without a hand on your hip, she keeps you pliant and open with brute force, her thighs stronger than every ounce of muscle on your body combined. You are overwhelmed by the realisation that you're truly helpless—but that threat, that thrill, pushes you quickly to the edge.
You clench hard around her as the pleasure tumbles together, shaking, spilling incoherent words and resounding strings of 'Yesyesyes...' into the hotel room.
"Fucking hell babe, look at you." She drawls in fervent awe, settling higher above you as she drives into you callous and sharp, thumb still pressing firm into your throbbing clit. Her lips are parted with the feverish effort, muscles tight with the control she maintains.
Your eyes close, and your heart stutters when her hand unexpectedly finds yours. You clutch it, tenderly, viciously, so close to breaking in two.
"I'm gonna come, fuck—God, Lucy, I-" you gasp until the words cave into a filthy, static moan.
Lucy says nothing. Perhaps speechless, perhaps taunting. Just watches your body as she fucks into you while rubbing your clit quick enough to have you shaking with pleasure. The first wave crashes through, shattering every ounce of tension and making orgasmic relief flood your senses.
"That's it, God, I can feel you, baby," her voice trembles high when she admits it, each throb around her thick cock making you jerk with a mix of sensitivity and euphoria.
Lucy lowers her face again as your pleasure evens out, knuckles still white from the hard grasp of her hand. She lets it go to hold your face instead, her hips stilling.
"Such a good girl for me. Such a dirty girl. You can take more though, can't you? I'm not done with you yet." There's only a soft hint of demand in her voice as she delicately brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, lips pressing against the scalding skin instead.
You heave for breath, your weak legs falling against her back as she lowers to suckle and kiss high on your breast. You quickly gather she's leaving a trail of intentional hickeys, and you whimper quietly against her dark hair.
"Lucy, baby," you plead breathlessly. The heat and overdrive of senses is almost too much, but equally, her closeness feels dire to your heart continuing to beat.
"My pretty slut. I love how you say my name." Lucy coos, dropping a quick kiss to your lips when your hands drift down to her biceps.
She peels away from your skin, her cock slipping out and making you whine. She's thinking momentarily with a quiet but obvious stare, before grabbing a pillow and setting it beneath your ass.
Lucy shuffles back onto her knees, her face beautifully flushed and completely taken by the sight before her. There's a vulnerability to it, because you know deep down she doesn't do this for just anyone.
She watches your swollen cunt, before wordlessly leaning down to taste it. Her firm hands hold your thighs apart, dragging her tongue steadily up with no hesitation.
It makes you jolt—the sensation lush and soft, almost tender, a stark contrast to the rough pleasure of penetration. She laps you up eagerly, dragging through your sensitive folds.
Your hand flies to grasp her loose bun, the other her broad shoulder, guiding her through you until you're breathless again, grinding up into her wet mouth.
Her tongue rubs flatly over your clit, making a show of swallowing every so often.
Before you can encourage otherwise, she takes you between her supple lips, sucking gently for a long, euphoric minute. Your vision scatters—the feeling is far too good to even find the words of praise she deserves.
"Good girl." She sighs between contact, taking her time to build you back up, intently focused, and soothing a hand over your stomach when you start to squirm.
All thoughts of the game have given way to lustful need. In a swift motion, she lifts back up, pressing her tongue into your mouth before you can even think. All tongue, this time, and the intention to have you taste yourself doesn't lose you.
She cups your chin with her hand, eyeing the way your expression shatters when her cock slides back in.
"Love watching your face when I fill you up." She encourages, and you avoid her firm gaze, for the raw humiliation of it all. But she catches it—forcing you with a punishing grip to watch her. "My babe. You'll give me what I need, won't you?"
The way she speaks with such effortless confidence in bed is either an attribute you've forgotten since the last time you slept together, or you've brought something out in her that even she was unforeseen to.
You nod, small but sure. "Yes, anything," you affirm, mouth shifting each time she angles her cock just right. But the grinding rhythm she finds isn't just for you. It's for her.
"Are you close?" You whisper, slightly awed by the idea that she was able to come just from wearing the strap.
Lucy's chin drops to your shoulder, her hips stuttering against you as she rides the base of the harness, in turn making her cock shift and jolt inside of you.
"How could I not be. You feel amazing baby." She practically whines.
Lucy settles heavily against you for a few long moments until her panting breath hitches, breaking into a staccato of filthy moans.
"Fuck, oh my god, " she rocks messily into you, her whines only getting filthier when you pull her hair firmly from the scalp. She liked a bit of pain, and you'd certainly play with that fact at any opportunity. But fuck you, Lucy orgasming might just be the hottest thing you've ever witnessed.
You attempt to nudge her into a kiss afterwards, but she has other ideas.
"On your tummy. Present for me." She demands lowly, shocking you still for a moment—until she's pulling out, grabbing your hips, and flipping you into position. An obvious, cocky display of stamina and strength.
You arch laxly, face crumpled against the smooth pillow as you try to find any semblance of thought.
The lack of focus earns you a hard spank, enough to snatch your attention, before she's hoisting your hips higher, legs separated and ass up. "Still so tight for me, even when I've wrecked you." She runs her fingers through you twice, wiping the slick on your ass before pressing her cock back inside, easily filling you to the hilt.
Lucy breathes raggedly, her hand splayed across your lower back. "The gym's done you good." She compliments between huffs of air, beginning with a deceptively gentle rhythm.
"Really unreal. So pretty like this," she murmurs, tugging you closer with impatience.
"Need it harder. It feels so good." You groan, half muffled by the pillow, delirious with lust. Lucy disregards your request, her fingertips slowly teasing around your entrance, up to your clit.
"What's that baby?" She answers softly, her thumb bearing into your hip possessively. She sharpens her thrusts, yet still painfully sporadic.
"More." You whimper.
"D'you need something? My cock not enough for your needy cunt?" Her tone strides into degradation, and you almost feel choked from the whiplash of trusting and knowing her, and wondering where her dominance ends. If it even does.
"I-It is. But I want you to– need you to come inside me. Just- more." You whine, groaning lewdly when she palms your ass harder, slamming her hips into you.
She scoffs a chuckle. "Gonna be hard not to. When I've got you beneath me like this." She huffs. "So fucking slutty, and gorgeous, begging for me to breed you." she starts to pull your ass back against her with every hard thrust, quickening to the pace you need. Wildly intense, making every muscle weak to the point of exhaustion, but you can't stop craving it.
"So hard to not cover you with my marks. Or fill you up, ‘till you're dripping with my cum." Her voice tremors with heavy breath and desire, saying things she could never imagine outside of this moment.
Your mind? It short-circuits entirely.
"I'm yours. Please. Do it, ‘till I'm full of you," you beg incoherently, grasping either side of the pillow.
"I'll give you what you need." Lucy rasps in simple promise after a second of thought. She pounds into you harder, the angle creating a biting friction with each drag of her thick cock.
"So much, Luce, don't stop." You cry out as the room fills with the obscene sounds of her thighs meeting yours.
"You'll never wear someone else's name again. I'll mark you up, get you on my cock every night if it means you behave—for me." She breaks with ragged breath, groaning high upon each tremble of your body.
Mine. The prefix she spoke resounds in your head, and perhaps in your heart too. You can't reach the warmer, gentler feelings right now though. Only the primal, dirty ones.
You reach beneath to rub your own clit in desperation to come, your other hand flying out to seize hers as she drapes herself closer.
"Yes baby, fuck," Lucy gasps louder than she's been all night, grinding into the base of the toy again and feeling the heat fog her mind beyond salvation.
"You want my cum, don't you," she hisses, stuttering off into a breathy moan.
"Yes Luce, please, need it so badly." you beg, and Lucy's hips jerk into you more frantically, using you for her own pleasure, but still letting her cock stimulate you deliciously.
"I am," she groans, trembling as her own climax builds. "Gonna cum so hard inside you. Make–you mine." She slams into you a final time, and collapses forward, grinding weakly into the strap as her orgasm crashes through her.
Your heady moans are stifled by a bite into her forearm, sobbing as your own hits you sudden and sharp. The erotic resonance of Lucy's voice promising her possession over you destroys any sense you have left, leaving you throbbing around her cock and burying your face into her arm as each convulsion wrecks you beyond what you thought was possible.
For a long moment, you both find nothing to say.
Lucy catches her breath, emotionally twisted and sinking deeper against you in a plea for intimacy. You find her in that space, clinging to her arm and then her hand, lacing your fingers, urging her closer.
"Well done, my good girl," you hear her murmur after the long pause, her still laboured breath sounding above you.
She leans her face down against yours, faintly kissing your cheek, then your lips. "You did so good. Best girl." She coos, settling her weight above you when your other hand presses down at her hip.
"Can you pull out?" You mumble softly, the pressure inside suddenly becoming too much.
Lucy nods just from the sound of your voice. "Of course," and lifts to slowly pull herself out of you, squeezing your hand tighter when you wince. She brushes hair out of your face, before impatiently unsheathing the toy from its ring, dropping it on the bedside table with a vaguely triumphant thud. She exhales heavily.
You turn to your side, making tender, trusting eye-contact before she settles into the new position and pulls you into her chest. You both collapse deep into the mattress, muscles weak and loose. Still, you intertwine your fingers again, pulling them close to your face.
The emptiness—not just between your legs, but of the tension that dropped in a moment's time, feels striking. But her warmth soothes it, replaces it with something far more permanent in its comfort.
"That okay? Everything okay?" She whispers, gently caressing your face and beginning to stroke your hair with blunt nails. Your nose presses into her warm chest, eyes closed contentedly.
"Of course. I loved it." You mumble, dropping a tender kiss to the skin, then to her knuckles.
"Good..." she sighs, her strong thigh coming over your body to tangle you impossibly closer. With a weak timidity, she mumbles, "I hope it wasn't too much. I know I was a bit rough and maybe..."
You shake your head, craning to glance up at her. "No chance. That was mad. In the best way." You smile softly, leaning in to kiss her grinning, swollen lips. Seconds pass by you slower and slower, wrapped up in the lazy, comfortable movements.
You can tell she holds some weight of guilt for letting go so intensely, so you try to provide ample reassurance that it was all exactly what you wanted and needed.
Lucy cups the back of your head for some time, just enjoying the warm and slightly sticky intimacy. Dare you speculate—she was tired.
It takes every ounce of strength left for you to haul yourselves up after some time.
"You're not going back, right?" Lucy asks, wide-eyed, finally taking down her hair and running her hands through it.
"Of course not." You say with an incredulous disposition, because it truly was unfathomable to imagine sleeping alone tonight. Lucy just grins, and something warm tugs deep in your chest.
Heading to the bathroom with the spirit of a wearied dog reminds you that you have actually over-exerted yourself today. Your legs ache, and the weight of exhaustion pulls you down with each step.
Upon re-entering the modestly lavish room, Lucy had also taken it upon herself to get back into her pyjamas. It wasn't like you couldn't sleep naked, but a hotel doesn't feel the most ideal place. She had dimmed the lights in your absence, looking the picture of comfort as she glances up at you from the bed.
"Do you have a hairbrush?" You ask.
"Yeah, give me a second," Lucy jumps out of bed at an alarming rate, rattling through her suitcase until she finds it.
"Come, I'll do it for you." She offers sweetly, pulling back the covers enough to crawl into the middle of the bed. You sit up in front of her, breathing out all the stresses that have accumulated over the past few days as she gently brushes through your hair.
"Thank you." You mumble with your eyes closed in bliss when she approaches the last section, holding it delicately in her hand to avoid hurting you with any tangles.
"Anytime." She answers softly, before dropping the brush on the table. You lean back into her, and she hugs you tightly. "Thanks for tonight." She kisses your temple, her thumb stroking over your ribcage.
"Anytime." You repeat her answer with a grin, before pausing—ultimately going through with the sharing of the cheeky thought. "Just...didn't expect you to be so possessive."
Lucy giggles bashfully into your shoulder. "Well...don't go telling anyone else that."
"Why? Does it mean something?" You turn around to lie against her chest, and she positions the pillow down so you can both lay properly. Then, you settle against her, leg draped across hers, held close by her protective arm.
"Like what?" She answers finally.
"Like...you meant it when you said you wanted me. And not just...like this." You feel overcome by a sudden rawness to your throat, fearful that your tired state will prompt you to say the wrong thing. The sudden pressure of the conversation that had lingered in your mind for weeks, months. Maybe since you saw Lucy for the first time, and had to accept the fate of being irrevocably attracted to her.
"Is it not a bit obvious I also have a crush on you?" Lucy replies, an equal level of nerves to her otherwise gentle tone.
"Yeah but...I don't know if you wanted to keep it like this. Casual."
"Baby...I don't do casual. So you'd better tell me if that's what you want, so I can go and cry myself to sleep." She grins, and you almost scoff with disbelief.
"No. Definitely not casual. Definitely want you. Very much."
"Good," Lucy says quickly, tilting your face up with her finger so she can appreciate your blush. "Very good." Her grin spreads adorably. You can truly appreciate her freckles now, and the crinkle by her eyes when she smiles, or the unadulterated longing in the way she gazes at you.
"Yeah. Very good. We should talk about this more tomorrow." You say, content with those answers for the present.
Lucy nods with a tired sigh. "Yeah." But within moments, you're scrunching your nose as she starts to pepper kisses across your face, making you giggle and squirm excitedly, especially when her grip tightens into an imprisoning hold. "Luce!"
"Right calm down, Sonia will kill us if we're uncontactable in the morning." She huffs the last of her laughter, still smiling. It's well past two in the morning, so the chances of being fresh as daisies at breakfast is long gone either way.
"You started it."
You pull down the other pillow, flick off the lights, and cuddle up tight in her arms. The bedsheets may be crisp, cold, and slightly unwelcoming, but nothing feels more like home than the sound of her slowing breath...and the warmth of her skin, treasuring you close.
aww don’t i love a happily ever after! as always comments/anons are appreciated and encourage me to write more. also of course casparij was the one, ms ‘hot girls read smut’ would definitely be honoured to know she was a special guest
can someone let me know if this fic will affect my employability
Mapi was many things. Strong willed, confident, loving. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for someone. She was always there when you needed her. No matter the issue, the circumstance, the time of day. She was always, always there.
Except when she wasn’t.
You see…you knew Mapi was a busy woman. Being a pro footballer, that’s just how it was. There was training, travelling, matches, media, and so many other things. During the season, she had about one day off a week. That day would mostly consist of sleeping, eating, and hanging out with friends she rarely gets to see.
It meant that her free time was rare. So extremely rare that spending more than an hour with her a day was a rare occurrence. You understood. Really, you did. But there was only so long you could pretend being okay with rarely seeing her before you just…couldn’t anymore.
Things hand been different at the start. Not entirely so, but enough. She made more of an effort, communicated with you. Kept you updated with the ins and outs of everything and rarely left you hanging. On her day off, she’d make the effort to spend it all with you, doing all the things she’d missed out on during the week no matter how exhausted she was.
You’d spend hours in bed in the morning, making love, cuddling, talking. She’d cook breakfast, you’d clean up, and then you’d follow wherever the day takes you whether that be spending the day inside watching movies or going out and exploring.
But it had been a year, and things had…changed.
She was still the same loving woman you’d met a year ago. Well, mostly. The love was still there, that’s for sure. When she did see you, she’d litter your face with kisses, love on you, and for a second it was almost like you could pretend everything was like it was before.
But the communication was gone. Your phone rarely lit up with her name anymore. And her days off were spent sleeping, as you’d said, and little you said or did would get her out of bed.
It was like…now she had you, there was no need to make an effort to try and keep you.
You look at her from your place in bed next to her, watching the way her chest rises as she breaths, as her eyes flutter and nose twitches. She was completely out for the count, and you’d bet money on her being like that for at least a couple more hours, and it was already past lunchtime.
You were up, dressed and ready for the day, and had been for at least four hours. You’d made breakfast for her, and lunch, both in the microwave where the would probably remain until dinner, which would probably join it too.
She’d just gotten back from an away match last night, and she’d barely done more than shower and eat before collapsing into bed. She hadn’t even kissed you hello, or goodnight even, a new edition to this whole barely seeing her thing.
You got it, she was tired, but it takes less than a minute for her to kiss you hello and ask how your day was and listen to your answer. You’d attempted conversation, but you’d gotten no more than a tired smile before she’d disappeared into the shower. By the time you’d locked up and cleaned up from dinner and joined her in the bedroom, she’d was already in bed and asleep.
Another hour passes, and she was no closer to waking than she was a couple hours ago. Not wanting to waste any more of your day than you already had, you give her one last look before climbing out of bed and leaving the room.
You stand aimlessly in the middle of the living room for a second before deciding to get out of the house for a little while. You grab your phone and purse, and figuring Mapi would be asleep for who knows how long, you don’t bother leaving a note. The door closes behind you with a soft click, and you let out a loud sigh as you start walking.
*
It was nearing five in the afternoon when you finally get home. You’d not really done much, just walked wherever your feet took you. Your phone had gone off multiple times, but you hadn’t really checked it even know you knew it was probably Mapi wondering where you were.
You’d barely gotten the door closed behind you when she appears, looking tired, rumpled, and very much worried. You grunt as she throws herself into your arms, arms tight around your neck, legs hooked around your waist. Your arms instinctively circle her waist, holding her to you, and you feel more than hear the sigh that escapes her lips.
“I did not know where you were.” She murmurs against your shoulder, and you sigh lightly as you let go of her, silently coaxing her feet back to the floor. She steps back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I just went out for a walk.” You shrug off your jacket and hang it up on the hook by the door. Your shoulder brushes against hers as you make your way through to the kitchen, grabbing things out of the pantry to make a start on dinner.
“A walk?” She follows you into the kitchen, crossing her arms absent her chest as she leans against the counter.
“Sí.” You confirm.
It was silent for a few moments before she speaks again.
“¿Estás bien?” Her voice was quiet, unsure, even.
You glance up. Mapi’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned down into a frown.
You weren’t one to lie. Not to anyone, and definitely not Mapi. But telling her everything right now seemed impossible. Especially when it seemed stupid and irrelevant. Mapi was busy, you missed her. That was it.
“I’m okay. Stir fry for dinner alright?” You force a small smile onto your lips.
Mapi was quiet for a second before nodding, stepping away from the counter and glancing toward the bedroom. “Sí. Is okay. I will…get dressed?”
“Okay baby.” You say without looking up from slicing up the chicken.
Mapi doesn’t say anything else, but you do hear her leave the room. You release a quiet breath at being alone again, knowing you had about a minute before Mapi would return and be full of yet more questions. Questions you didn’t really know the answer to.
Just as you suspected, Mapi appears again in less than a minute. She was dressed now, in a pair of loose grey shorts and a hoodie. She hesitates in the kitchen doorway for a second before stepping up behind you and circling your arms around your waist. Despite everything, you lean back into her touch, and you feel her sigh in relief as she tightens her arms around you.
“Te he echado de menos.” She murmurs into your neck, and it makes your chest hurt all over again.
You don’t say anything, and you feel her pause in confusion.
“No me echaste de menos?” She sounds confused, and a little hurt.
You hesitate for a second. “I miss you all the time.” You admit.
The ulterior meaning behind your words doesn’t seem to click for her, because she simply hums and presses her lips against your neck in a chaste kiss.
“Mis amigos y yo vamos a salir a tomar algo esta noche.” she murmurs into your skin.
You sigh internally. Of course. You should have seen this one coming.
“Okay.” You state simply, your voice indifferent.
“¿Quieres venir?” She offers, and you shake your head, lightly pushing her away from you as you head to the sink to go wash your hands. The last thing you want was a pity invite.
“No, thanks. You go have fun.”
Mapi hesitates in the middle of the kitchen, suddenly unsure. It was like she could sense something was up, but couldn’t place her finger on what it was. You were still by the sink, and your body language was screaming don’t touch me.
“I…” she trails off, seemingly not knowing what to say.
You glance back at her, expression undecipherable. “It’s fine, Mapi. Go out with your friends. Again.”
The last word was uttered so quietly she barely hears it, but she does.
“No sé qué significa eso”.
You shrug, drying your hands off with a tea towel. “It means nothing.”
“Sí, it does. Porque-“
“Because nothing, Mapi. Just go out with your friends. I’ll be here, waiting, as always.” You grab a knife from the knife block and start chopping the vegetables, rather aggressively actually. And it makes Mapi a little nervous.
“What you mean, always? I do not-”
You cut her off again. “Yes, you do.”
“Que?”
You sigh. “Just…don’t worry, okay?”
Mapi frowns. “I am worry. I do not-”
You sigh heavily, yet again cutting her off. “Look, Mapi. I get it, okay? You’re busy. I knew this when we first got together. But it kind of hurts my feelings when you say you’re too busy for me, but not too busy for your friends. You have such limited free time that I thought you’d choose to spend at least some of what you have with your girlfriend.”
Mapi tucks her hands into her pockets. “I do spend time with you.”
You freeze in the midst of chopping, looking up at her with a look of disbelief on your face.
“When?”
“Que?”
“When do you spend time with me?” you laugh humourlessly. “Last week? No, you had that extra training session. The week before that? No, your friends wanted you for drinks. The week before that? Again, no, because something came up. Something always comes up and I’m sick of rationalising to myself that maybe next time will be the time you’ll want to spend time with me, that maybe next time, I’ll be the important thing you can’t miss.”
Mapi stares at you, eyes wide.
“I don’t even remember the last time we spent more than an hour together before something came up. An extra training session here, an interview there, friends wanting to go out for drinks. To be honest Mapi, I don’t even know how much longer I can take it. How much longer I can pretend that things are okay when they clearly aren’t.”
Silence. You look up at her, and you hate the way your throat tightens at the tears in her eyes.
“I…I am busy. You know this.” She chokes out.
“Yeah…” you breathe, dropping the knife and rubbing your hands over your face. “I do know this. But knowing it and liking it are two different things Mapi. And when I’m constantly number two on your list of priorities, it starts to take a toll. Just once I want to be the one you pick. Just once I want you to prioritise me. I haven’t seen you properly in weeks and the one night we have together you choose to spend it with the friends you see every day at training. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”
Mapi’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again before she sighs and wipes her eyes.
“Tú... lo siento. Yo... estaba estípido. Yo...”
You don’t say anything.
“I am…I am sorry. I just thought…”
“Thought what? That I’m okay with barely seeing you just because I have the label of girlfriend?”
“No, I…”
“What Mapi? There’s nothing you can tell me what I haven’t already told myself.”
“No lo entiendo.”
“Of course you don’t.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair.
Mapi shifts on her feet. “I…te amo.” She whispers, a tear falling down her cheek.
You tear up. “And I love you. But sometimes love just isn’t enough.”
“¿Estás... estás diciendo que esto se acabó?” She looks dangerously close to sobbing, and you’re very much close to joining her.
“I don’t know.” You admit as a tear falls down your cheek, and Mapi lets out a quiet sob as she turns away from you, legs giving up on her as she slides down the wall. You bite your bottom lip to stop it from quivering, a sick feeling building in your stomach as you abandon the barely started dinner. You definitely weren’t hungry anymore.
As you pass, you briefly rest a hand on top of her head. “I need some space, okay?” You whisper, voice strained, and Mapi chokes out another sob. Your hand lingers on her head for a second before you head up to your room to pack a bag.
“Vivianne! I’m home!” You call as you close the front door behind you, dropping your bag to the floor and kicking off your shoes.
Silence.
“Viv?” You call again, walking into the living room. It wasn’t often Viv didn’t appear at the sound of your voice. More often than not, she’d appear before you even call her and all but jump into your arms, sending you stumbling backwards as you grasp her waist and laugh because despite being at least a head taller, if there was an opportunity to be in your arms, she’d take it.
The living room was empty, but the tv was on, a blanket was half haphazardly hanging off the couch and there was a half empty cup of tea placed on the coffee table, without a coaster which viv knows you hate.
But there was no sign of Viv. Mhhh. Strange.
You grab the half empty cup, cold, you realise, and bring it to the kitchen setting it on the side to deal with later. Figuring the bedroom may be the next best place to check, you head up the stairs.
The door was partially open, and you push it open fully as you step inside. And there she was. Sprawled out in the centre of the bed, on top of the blankets, glasses still on, and she was most definitely out for the count. She was on her back, arms thrown up either side of her head, one leg bent, the other straight and hanging off the bed.
With a grin, you climb onto the bed and situate yourself to settle on her hips, your legs straddling her. You lean forward, resting your elbows either side of her head as you cup your cheeks with your hands.
“Vivi?” You muse quietly, pressing a kiss to her warm cheek.
Her nose scrunches up, and her head turns the other direction, but she doesn’t wake. You wiggle a little closer, so you were sat on her stomach, and kiss her cheek again. This time, she doesn’t move a single inch, but her lips quirk up at the corner, just slightly, telling you that she wasn’t as asleep as she seems.
“I saw that.” You murmur with a grin, reaching up to cup her cheek, thumb trailing over the warm skin. “Come on Viv, it’s dinner time soon, and we both know if you don’t get up now, you won’t sleep tonight.”
“Go ‘way.” She grumbles, batting your hand away from her face.
Your grin widens as you take her hand, squeezing her fingers. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“Babeee.” She whines, trying to shove you off of her. She’s not successful, but she does manage to wriggle beneath you to lay on her stomach, hiding her face in her arms. You shift lower, so you were sat on the back of her thighs, and slap her ass once.
“Come on. Up you get.”
“No, get off.” She whines.
You slap her ass again. “No, you get up.”
“Noo.”
You sigh and lean forward, sprawling yourself over her back. You tuck your hands beneath her stomach, and rest your cheek between her shoulder blades.
“Such a grumpy gus.” You murmur into her back, feeling her shift slightly beneath you as you let out a quiet sigh.
Viv and naps had a complicated relationship. Viv loved naps, but naps didn’t love Viv. Mainly because getting her up from them was impossible, but there was also the fact that why you did somehow manage to wake her, she was the most grumpiest thing to ever exist afterwards.
Exhibit A.
“It’s dinner time soon.” You break the silence.
“Mhhh.”
“I’m making your favourite.” You continue in hopes to tempt her.
“Mhhh.”
You groan. “Come on Viv. Wake up.” You sit up and pat her back a few times, before reaching up to cup the back of her head, fingertips scratching at her scalp.
“No.” She grumbles, though she does relax under your touch.
You throw your head back for a second before climbing off of her.
Time to bring in the big guns.
You lean forward, forcing her to turn onto her back. She goes without resistance, eyes still closed. You stare daggers into her head as you lean forward and wrap your arms around her waist, hauling her up into a sitting position. She groans, though stubbornly her eyes stay closed.
You use the momentum of sitting her up to throw her over your shoulder, leaving her face to face with your ass.
“What-put me down!” She uses the small of your back as leverage to bring herself upwards, and now that she was awake, you let her slide down your body until her body was flush against your own. Your hands rest on her hips for a second before trailing up her sides.
She stares at you with a small glare, eyes drooping as her own arms settle around your neck.
“Why?” She grumbles.
Your eyes flicker to the alarm clock on the nightstand next to you. “Because it’s nearly five.”
“So?” She mutters in the same careless tone, shifting forwards and tucking her face into your neck. Her hands come to settle on the back of your neck, fingers tangling through the baby hairs.
“So, if I let you sleep, you’ll miss dinner, wake up hungry, and you won’t sleep tonight.” You explain, slipping your hand up the back of her shirt to rest on the warm skin of her back. You trail your fingers up between her shoulder blades, and back down to the waist band of her shorts.
She responds to your words with no more than a groan, and you laugh softly as you cup the back of her head and give her a squeeze before pulling away and cupping her cheeks. Vivs lips form a pout, and you gently kiss it away, lips lingering for a few seconds before leaning back.
“Come on grumpy. Go lounge on the couch for a while. We can eat there.”
“But I thought…”
“I know.” You muse, cupping her cheeks and tucking her hair behind her ears. Her hands circle your wrists as she presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “But I’ll make an exception just this once. Just know if you spill anything on my couch…”
Viv huffs. “I know, I know.”
You kiss her nose before pulling away, guiding her out of the bedroom with a hand on the small of her back. She settles onto the couch, beneath the blanket she’d left there earlier, and you head into the kitchen. You hear the tv start playing as you get to work on dinner, making her favourite, chicken pasta, just like you’d said. It takes about an hour, and you bring both plates in, one in each hand.
Vivs eyes light up as she takes the offered plate, taking in the smell as she settles it on her lap. “Thanks, lieverd.” She murmurs, and you stroke the back of her head fondly as you sit down next to her.
