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Kiana Khansmith
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
noise dept.
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Today's Document
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
almost home
if i look back, i am lost
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
we're not kids anymore.
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
KIROKAZE
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@justwandathings
y’all ever read a fanfic that you cannot believe an author just wrote for free?? what an honor it is to read a piece of someone’s soul they shared out of nothing but love for a piece of media. what a privilege it is to be allowed their talent because you share an interest!!
| Scene one |
Pairings : Florence Pugh x female!reader
Summary : You met her on set, somewhere between long days and quiet looks. It wasn’t part of the script, but it felt real — slow, unexpected, and impossible to ignore.
Warnings : Florence being a tease ? Lots of teasing
Authors note : 3k words, I have become way too obsessed with flo
You weren’t even supposed to be in Thunderbolts.
Originally, your role was a small one — a two-scene cameo as a morally gray anti-hero with sharp knives and a sharper tongue. But after the chemistry test with Florence Pugh, something shifted. The room crackled. The director coughed awkwardly and scribbled something in his notebook. Two weeks later, your agent called you, breathless.
“You’ve been upgraded,” she said. “Big time.”
You landed a full supporting role, which meant months of filming… with Florence.
God help you.
Florence Pugh was magnetic in person. She moved like she knew every eye was on her — and she liked it. But she wasn’t arrogant. No. She was playful. Teasing. Mischievous in a way that made your pulse tick just a bit faster every time she smiled in your direction.
Which was often.
“You always look so serious,” she told you one day between takes, her Yelena wig slightly askew, a lollipop between her lips. “Is that your villain face? Or are you just trying not to flirt with me?”
You nearly choked on your water. “Is it that obvious?”
She winked. “A little.”
It was a game from that point on. A maddening, sweet, slow game. She’d lean just a bit too close while reading lines, her breath brushing your cheek. You’d catch her watching you during fight training, head tilted, eyes thoughtful. You once caught her recording a slow-mo video of you flipping your stunt knife — she claimed it was “for reference,” but the smirk on her lips said otherwise.
You started teasing back, naturally.
“Careful, Pugh,” you whispered during one particularly intense scene rehearsal, your face inches from hers. “You keep looking at me like that and people will think you’re in love.”
She arched an eyebrow, unbothered. “Let them.”
You couldn’t tell if it was flirting anymore, or just her natural Florence-ness. Either way, it drove you wild. But it wasn’t until the last week of shooting that something actually shifted.
You were in your trailer, half out of costume, when she knocked — then walked in without waiting.
“Sorry,” she said, grinning as her eyes roamed over you. “Didn’t realize wardrobe was optional in here.”
“Florence.”
“What?” she laughed, perching on the couch like she owned it. “Just came to say goodbye before you wrapped for the day. Unless you wanted to run that last scene again. The one where you pin me to the wall?”
Your cheeks flamed. She knew exactly what she was doing.
You crossed your arms. “You are absolutely impossible.”
“Mm,” she hummed, standing slowly. She walked over, close enough that you had to tilt your chin to keep your eyes on hers. “You like it.”
She didn’t kiss you. But she didn’t have to. The tension between you both was a string pulled taut, vibrating with every inch of space that wasn’t quite filled.
That night, she texted you:
Goodbye scenes are overrated. Want to do dinner instead? Just you. Just me. Just… us?
The day they filmed the rooftop scene was the worst.
Not because it was cold. Not because you were bruised from a week of stunts. But because Florence Pugh was pressed up against you, panting, flushed, smiling like she knew exactly what she was doing to you — and you still weren’t allowed to kiss her.
In the scene, your character saves Yelena from a sniper. You crash behind a vent, her body half under yours, her fingers twisted in your jacket.
It was supposed to last ten seconds.
It took four takes.
“Sorry,” Florence said between the second and third take, voice low as she smoothed her hand down your chest. “I keep getting distracted.”
You stared at her, your face inches from hers. “By what?”
She grinned. “You.”
You made it through the scene, barely. When the director finally called cut, you stood up too fast and muttered something about needing air.
Florence didn’t follow. But when you got back to your trailer, there was a post-it note on your mirror.
Still thinking about the way you looked at me when I said “thanks for saving my ass.” Let me know if you want to rehearse that part. Alone.
You stared at the note for too long.
Later that night, you replied with a photo — the scene’s script page, her line circled in red, your handwriting underneath:
Anytime. I’ll always have your back. And maybe your ass, too.
Her response came five minutes later.
That was smooth. I’m proud. Still want to rehearse? I promise to be very professional. Until I’m not.
Over the next few days, it escalated.
During lunch, she stole fries from your plate with slow eye contact and said, “You don’t mind sharing, right?”
You shrugged, fighting a smile. “Only if you feed me one too.”
She did. Slowly.
During combat training, she pinned you to the mat and whispered, “I win.”
You rolled her over in one move, face barely a breath from hers. “You sure about that?”
You saw it in her eyes then — the pause, the flicker, the something behind the playfulness. Like she was thinking the same thing you were:
This was no longer just a game.
But no one made a move.
Until the wrap party.
You’d both made it through the final day of filming. Hugs were passed around. The cast danced, drinks flowed, and somewhere between the bad karaoke and the champagne, you found her on the balcony, barefoot, holding a half-finished cocktail.
“Cold?” you asked, offering your jacket.
She let you put it around her shoulders, tugging it tighter. “Only a little.”
“Nice party,” you said.
“Nice job surviving a movie with me.”
You smiled. “Barely.”
There was a quiet between you. Not uncomfortable — more like the silence right before thunder rolls in.
“You were the best part of this film,” she said softly, eyes locked on yours. “And not just on camera.”
Your throat tightened. “You too.”
She stepped closer.
“Are we still playing the game?” she asked, voice like velvet.
You met her gaze. “Do you want to be?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not anymore.”
You leaned in. Not a kiss, not yet — just your forehead resting gently against hers.
“Then stop me,” you whispered, “if I’m wrong about this.”
She didn’t.
Her fingers slipped into your hair, and you finally kissed her — slow, warm, and so full of everything you’d both been holding back.
You didn’t expect her to stay the night.
You kissed her on that balcony — slow, searching, a little dizzy with the realization that it wasn’t just tension or chemistry or a well-rehearsed scene. It was real. She was real. And when she pulled away, she didn’t let go. Not even a little.
She held your hand the whole Uber ride home.
And when you opened the door to your apartment, she followed without asking.
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said, toes nudging off her shoes, fingers brushing your wrist. “I’ll stay if you ask.”
“I want you to stay,” you told her. “No games.”
She smiled. “No games.”
That night, you didn’t sleep much — not for the reasons most people would assume. You lay tangled up in each other, whispering things you should’ve said weeks ago. She played with your fingers in the dark. You traced circles on her back. She kept falling asleep mid-sentence, then jerking awake to finish it.
It was soft.
It was perfect.
It was the beginning of everything.
Months later, she was still there — Florence, in your space like she’d always belonged.
She stole your t-shirts, left half-drunk cups of tea on the counter, and kissed you with ridiculous intensity in the morning, even when your breath was awful and your hair stuck up in seventeen directions.
You made her laugh so hard once she choked on cereal. She got you back by blasting Taylor Swift in the shower and dramatically serenading you through the curtain.
Life with her wasn’t glamorous or wild — not most days. It was warm. Domestic. Good.
But there were moments.
Like now.
You were lying on the couch, her legs stretched across your lap. A bowl of popcorn rested between you, long forgotten, because Florence was snuggled against your side wearing your hoodie — and nothing else — and she was doing that thing she did where she kissed your neck in slow, innocent intervals that were absolutely not innocent.
“Flor,” you warned, barely breathing. “You’re distracting me.”
“I know,” she murmured, voice low and amused. “That’s the point.”
You tilted your head to look at her. “You’re a menace.”
“And yet you adore me.”
You kissed the tip of her nose. “Unfortunately.”
She smiled, smug and beautiful and way too pleased with herself. “You know the Thunderbolts premiere is in three days, right?”
You groaned. “Don’t remind me. Red carpets. Public attention. You in that dress that’s probably going to kill me.”
“Oh?” she said, feigning innocence. “You’ve already seen it?”
“No,” you admitted, covering your face dramatically. “But I know. I’ve seen the fittings. The smirk you get when you like what you’re wearing. I’m doomed.”
She shifted on top of you, straddling your hips, arms loosely around your shoulders. “What if I wear something extra hot just for you?”
You swallowed hard.
“Florence.”
“Yes?”
“You’re evil.”
She leaned in, brushing her lips against your ear. “You love it.”
You didn’t deny it.
You were not prepared.
You thought you were.
You’d seen the dress at her final fitting — dark, sculpted, slit high enough to be illegal in at least three countries. But it was nothing compared to this. Compared to Florence walking the red carpet like she owned the planet, confident and calm and sexy as hell — like she didn’t know your brain was melting inside your skull.
Except she totally knew.
Because when she saw you — tucked near the press line, trying your best to blend in — she locked eyes with you and smirked.
It was criminal.
You stared. She winked. And just to really drive it home, she turned back toward the cameras, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and posed. Legs. Waist. That backless moment. You were dead.
A handler nudged you. “You okay?”
You blinked. “No. I’m not okay. I need a cold shower and possibly medical attention.”
The premiere rolled on — interviews, flashing lights, fans screaming her name. But your eyes were glued to her. You watched her laugh with castmates, sign posters, take selfies. She looked so alive. So herself. And also like she might actually be the hottest woman alive.
When she finally made her way over to you during a lull in interviews, you gave her a look.
“You’re evil,” you said.
“Hi, baby,” she grinned, sliding her arm around your waist like she hadn’t just destroyed your soul ten minutes ago. “Like the dress?”
You scoffed. “You know I like the dress. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past hour. I almost fainted when you turned around.”
“Really?” she said, mock-surprised. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve done a little spin.”
You groaned. “Don’t tempt me.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. “I wore this for you.”
You were sweating.
“You’re so mean to me,” you whispered.
She kissed your cheek — just there, gentle and lingering — and said, “You love it.”
After the movie (which you barely survived — between her fight scenes, those smug grins, and the way she said your character’s name in one particular scene like it was a sin), the two of you snuck out early to avoid the chaos.
You made it back to the hotel suite in a blur. And then?
Then she laughed at you.
“You were literally squirming in your seat.”
“I was not,” you lied, eyes wide.
“You whimpered when I pinned someone to the floor.”
“Okay, that happened once!”
She took off her earrings slowly, deliberately. “You like me dangerous, huh?”
You stared. “Florence.”
“Yes, love?”
“Stop undressing like that unless you want me to do something about it.”
She smiled — wide, soft, pleased. Then she walked over, took your hand, and guided it to the zipper of her dress.
“I definitely want you to do something about it.”
Your breath caught.
But instead of going further, she kissed you sweetly — forehead first, then nose, then lips. Her hands slid under your shirt, fingers warm against your skin, but she didn’t rush. She never rushed with you. She just teased — featherlight touches, smiles against your mouth, a low “I missed you” that made your stomach twist in the best way.
“I want to ruin you,” she whispered, playfully, her voice like silk.
“Romantically or emotionally?” you murmured back, dazed.
She kissed you again. “Both.”
You woke up tangled in her.
There was light filtering in through the curtains — soft, pale, golden — but you didn’t dare move. Florence was curled against your chest, hair a little wild, lips parted, one bare leg thrown over yours like a sleepy octopus.
You were warm in every possible way.
Her cheek was pressed to your collarbone. You could feel her breathing — slow, deep, safe. You ran your fingers gently up and down her spine, watching her nose twitch like a cat in a dream.
God, you were in trouble.
You’d never been this soft for anyone. Never felt this quiet. Like your heart wasn’t just beating — it was resting in her presence.
Eventually, she stirred.
“Mm,” she mumbled, eyes still shut. “Why’re you awake? That’s illegal.”
“I’m admiring you,” you whispered.
“That’s worse,” she said, groggy. “You’re making me feel feelings before coffee.”
“You always have feelings,” you teased. “You just pretend they’re sarcasm.”
She cracked one eye open. “Don’t call me out like that.”
You kissed her hair. “You were incredible last night.”
“I know,” she muttered into your chest. “I was there. I saw myself on screen, remember?”
“No,” you laughed. “I mean — yes, the movie. You were ridiculously hot. I think I passed out somewhere during the third fight scene. But I meant after. With me. The way you looked at me. The way you — I don’t know. Made me feel.”
She went quiet. Then she pulled back, barely, just enough to meet your gaze.
“You felt that too?”
“I’ve been feeling it since the rooftop scene,” you admitted. “When I was trying really hard not to kiss you.”
Her smile was slow, sleepy, and a little shy — a rare thing for her. “I wanted you to. Back then. I kept hoping you’d break and just do it.”
“I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“You didn’t,” she whispered, brushing your cheek. “You made it better.”
There was a pause. A soft hush. A heartbeat shared in silence.
Then—
“I love you,” you almost said.
But she beat you to it.
“I’m in love with you,” she said, quiet but clear.
Your heart stopped. And then raced.
You cupped her face, kissed her once — firm and sure and full of something so big it hurt.
“I’m in love with you too,” you whispered.
And that was it. No fireworks. No dramatic score. Just two people, wrapped in a blanket, clinging to each other like the world outside didn’t exist. You didn’t need anything else.
Until—
Her stomach growled.
Florence blinked. “Okay. I love you, but I also love pancakes. Which do I get first?”
You grinned. “If you play your cards right, both.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how exactly do I earn that?”
You kissed her collarbone. “By staying mine. Forever.”
Her smile softened. “Deal.”
“Okay, Florence,” the interviewer said, smiling slyly, “we have to ask. Fans are kind of… losing their minds over your red carpet chemistry with a certain co-star.”
Florence tilted her head, all innocent charm. “Oh? Which one?”
“You know exactly who.”
She laughed — not denying it, not even pretending.
“Well,” she said, crossing her legs like she wasn’t a walking smirk, “they’re pretty easy to have chemistry with. I mean, have you seen them?”
The host leaned in, clearly invested. “So, the dating rumors. Can we confirm or deny?”
Florence smiled sweetly into the camera. “Let’s just say I’m very well-fed, emotionally and… otherwise.”
The host gasped.
The internet exploded.
You, watching from backstage with your coffee half-spilled down your front, facepalmed so hard you might’ve bruised.
Later, when she got off stage and saw your face, she just grinned.
“Too much?” she asked.
You blinked. “You literally flirted with me through a national broadcast.”
“And you’re welcome,” she said, stealing your coffee and sipping it like she hadn’t just committed war crimes against your self-control.
That night, back in your shared apartment, you found her curled on the couch in your favorite hoodie (again), hair up in a messy bun, glasses slightly askew, scrolling through TikToks of herself.
“Are you watching your own interviews?” you said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Yep,” she said without shame. “I’m hilarious. Also, did you see how many edits people made of us?”
You walked over, slid onto the couch beside her, and tugged her into your arms.
“I saw,” you murmured into her shoulder. “I also saw someone call me ‘the luckiest human alive.’ I think I agree.”
She looked at you, cheeks pink, a little sheepish now. “You’re not mad I said all that on camera?”
You shook your head. “No. I’m mad you didn’t say more. Like, tell them how you make me pancakes in heart shapes and how you hog the duvet but always end up wrapped around me anyway.”
Florence laughed, nudging your nose with hers. “Fine. I’ll give them the full report next time.”
You kissed her forehead. “Promise?”
She reached behind her neck and unhooked a delicate chain — one with a tiny silver thunderbolt charm — and placed it in your palm.
“Promise,” she said softly. “But this one’s just for you.”
You stared at the charm. At her.
“What is this?” you whispered.
“A symbol,” she said. “For everything we survived. For the movie. For how we started. For the fact that even after all the teasing and chaos, I still choose you. Every time.”
Your throat tightened. You pulled her in, held her like she was the most fragile thing you’d ever touched — and maybe the strongest too.
“I love you,” you said into her hair.
She smiled. “I know. I love you more.”
And somewhere between the thunder and the soft things, you realized you didn’t need a wedding or a spotlight or the world’s approval to feel whole.
You had her.
And that was enough.
Always.
“All relationships have one law: never make the one you love feel alone, especially when you’re there.”
— Unknown
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole life fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”
— F.Scott Fitzgerald
Don't stress over losing what was never truly yours. What's meant for you will stay, and what isn't will slip away-no matter how tightly you hold on.
She: You don't get me.
Me: Then let me in, I want to understand. I want to know the parts of you no one sees.
Ernest Hemingway // Unknown
My version of flirting is looking at someone I find attractive multiple times and hoping they're braver than me.
born to read cute fluffy character x reader fics, forced to see hardcore smut in every tag :’)
" I crave you in the most innocent form. I crave to say good night and give you forehead kisses and to say that I adore you when you feel at your worst. I crave you in ways where I just want to be next to you and nothing more or less."
‘how many times can the same thing break your heart?’
as long as you love it.
flirty || alessia russo x reader ||
you flirt a little with alessia, despite the team's teasing.
you walked into the locker room like you did every other day. for the most part, nobody paid much attention to you aside from a wave here or there. you sat down in your cubby, immediately catching the eye of alessia, who was sat directly across from you. she glanced up at you and waved, which you responded to with a wink and wave of your own. like always, alessia looked away from you extremely flustered.
"careful, you flirt any more and they'll think you're me," katie teased as she nudged you. you rolled your eyes. there were tons of people already drawing comparisions to the two of you. katie mccabe was definitely your best friend on the team, but you didn't think the two of you played all that similarly.
you weren't overly aggressive, you were just stubborn. katie was the one with a shoving problem, one that you often had to pull her back from showing. almost everybody on the team liked to tease katie that she was more whipped for you than she was for her own girlfriend. the jokes didn't really bother you, but they definitely would have if you knew how much they messed with alessia.
that was where the true soft spot for you was. katie was bound to get her ass kicked one day, but you were prolonging it. in all honesty, you were pretty sure you'd actually be the one to do it. you didn't look out for katie the way that you tried to for alessia. that was something that kim and jen had quickly shut down anybody messing with the two of you about. both of them could see the care in your eyes every single time that you looked at her.
"that's funny, i don't remember shrinking six inches and losing all my muscle mass," you joked. katie wound up to hit you, only to be interrupted by kim clearing her throat. "morning kim!"
"good morning (y/n), you seem to be in a good mood," kim noted. you nodded as you started changing into your training kit. you turned your back to katie, and incidentally alessia, whose jaw dropped when she saw the new tattoo you'd gotten.
"what the fuck is that?" katie asked as she rushed over to touch your back. you were glad that you had gotten it a little over a week ago whenever you were on injury leave. katie's fingers poked and prodded at the tattoo, as if she couldn't believe that you had done it. "who the hell is that for?"
"katie, shut up, it looks cool," alessia said as she walked over to the two of you. you shot her a grateful look over your shoulder before you pulled your training kit on.
"thanks less, i'm glad someone has good taste around here," you teased. alessia blushed as your attention was focused solely on her for a second. "walk to the gym with me? you're much better company than mccabe."
"hey!" katie exclaimed.
"i'd like that," alessia said. she let you finish getting ready, surprised when you linked arms with her. you walked ahead of leah, beth, katie, and caitlin. you could feel all of their eyes on you, but you chose to ignore them.
…
"what's the deal with you and lessi?" leah asked as the two of you walked through the parking lot together. you quirked an eyebrow at her, unsure of what she meant. as far as you knew, there was nothing going on between you and alessia. if there was, you really wished that someone would have told you sooner. "you're very flirty, someone might get the idea that you like her."
"a little flirting never hurt anybody," you said. truthfully, it was starting to hurt both you and alessia. you wanted her to take the things that you said seriously, but she always seemed to dismiss it as friendly and jovial remarks.
"you like her though, don't you?" leah asked. you glanced down at your feet as you nodded your head. "talk to her then. i'm sure that she likes you too."
"leah, if she doesn't-," you started, only to be cut off by leah's hand covering your mouth.
"don't think like that, okay? i've seen the way she looks at you, and it's sickening. absolutely disgusting, i can't sit there any longer while the two of you dance around whatever this is. don't ask her out for you, do it for your team, who are all sick and tired of your flirting without getting anywhere," leah said. you knew that she was teasing you, but that she also believed alessia wouldn't reject you.
alessia and leah had a tendency to talk to each other, most likely more about these sorts of things than you did. leah knew why you were so closed off, having remembered your first big heart break. if she was pushing you towards alessia, then it absolutely had to mean something. that was what you told yourself when you made your way towards her apartment after practice was through.
"(y/n)!" ella shouted excitedly, ruining your surprise. alessia quickly turned to face you, a small smile appearing on her face. she seemed somewhat frazzled, most likely by what you assumed was ella's surprise visit. "just the woman we were talking about. come on over, give me a big one, it's been a while."
"you're ridiculous," you laughed. still, you walked over and engulfed ella in the biggest hug you could muster. behind her, you noticed a somewhat sad look on alessia's face. "don't worry, you can have a hug too."
"it's not-," alessia tried to protest, but it was no use. you stood in front of her with your arms open, and alessia walked right into them. she was a bit taller than you, just barely noticeable, but you took full advantage of it. your hug with her lasted longer than yours with ella's, the two of you not wanting to separate. "what are you doing here?"
"i wanted to see you, that's all," you told her. it was sort of a lie, but also so unbelievably true. alessia blushed as she tried to duck away from you. "if you're busy though, i can go back home."
"no, i want you to stay for a while. maybe you could help me with dinner and stay for a movie?" alessia suggested. you nodded, following her inside. ella ended up only staying for a late lunch, leaving you and alessia alone for the majority of the night together. alessia ordered in your favorite while you put on a movie you knew she'd love. "this is nice."
"yeah it is," you agreed. you were cuddled up beneath her arm, feeling warm and safe. you glanced up at her at the same time that she looked down, both of you pausing to look at each other's lips. "careful, if you look at me like that again, i might just have to kiss you."
"i want you to. god, i want it so bad," alessia confessed. you were immediately put into a state of shock as you stared up at alessia. she looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole, and as she started to move away, you sprung into action.
"i want to kiss you too. i've wanted to since the euros," you told her. alessia looked surprised. the euros was really the first camp where the two of you had played together. before then, you'd only been competitors, which hadn't left much room for making friends.
"will you kiss me?" alessia asked nervously. you nodded, moving up to press a feather-light kiss to her lips. it was supposed to be a peck on the lips, but alessia grabbed onto your face to deepen it. she pulled you further onto her lap, holding you against her with no intention of letting you go. "stay the night."
"that's moving a bit fast less. i'll finish the movie, but i really do have to go after that," you told her. alessia looked a bit upset by the rejection, but she understood nonetheless. and so, she kept you close to her until the movie was over and you got up to leave.
"can i have a goodbye kiss?" alessia asked you. you leaned down and pressed your lips to hers for a quick kiss. "oh, and a goodnight one? oh, and an advance on my good morning one since you aren't staying over?"
"you can't trick me into staying by making me kiss you," you told her. alessia pouted up at you until you gave in to her demands of more kisses. she may not have convinced you to stay, but she had gotten a good ten minutes of kisses before you actually left her for the night.
strawberry kisses || a.putellas
not entirely sure if i like this or not, have had this idea for a while and finally got round to writing it while i was watching greys anatomy lol also not proof read so very sorry if there is any mistakes xo
strawberry kisses || a.putellas
alexia loved to kiss you, she would tell you that it was just because she loved kissing you, but you knew it was because of the lip balm that you wore. alexia didn't like the taste of strawberries a year ago, but that all changed the day that she kissed you and your lips tasted of strawberries. since then she has demanded that you never change your lip balm.
that was until you couldn't find it, you went to put it on in the morning after you had done your skincare but when you went to go get it, it wasn't siting on your bedside table where you thought you had put it before you went to bed.
you had searched high and low for it, trying to rack your brain to think where else you maybe had placed it. but wherever you looked it wasn't anywhere to be found.
lucky for you alexia had left an hour earlier for training, always liking to be the first person there to go over a few training drills on her own, while you would rather have an extra hour in bed. so you were hopeful that you would be able to find it before you would have to start getting ready, but after thirty minutes of looking and still no luck, you thought it would be better to stop looking for now and get changed, crossing your fingers that it would spring to mind where you had left it when you weren't looking for it.
but you of course weren't so lucky. so you had to quickly gather all the things you need for training and hurry out the door. silently hoping that maybe you had left it there instead.
_
when you arrived at training and went to the changing room all the girls bar your girlfriend were already changed and ready to head out. irene seeing your confused look told you that alexia was in the gym, which you thanked her for before you quickly changed into your training clothes. taking a quick look around the room trying to see if your lip balm was laying around here. but after looking everywhere you could think of and still not finding it, you gave up any hope of ever finding.
you let out a sigh of frustration, running your hands through your hair before you made your way to the gym with the rest of the girls.
you caught up with mapi and ingrid making polite conversation with the two, but after seeing you lick your lips every couple seconds of trying to hydrate them, ingrid held out her own lip balm for you to use.
"seems like you could use this." she told you, giving you one of her smiles that made her eyes crinkle.
"you have no idea. i lost my favourite lip balm and i get find it anywhere!" you ranted, applying the balm that she gave you. "oh, i like the flavour of this one!"
"it is raspberry jelly, you can keep it!" she told you, when you tried to hand it back to her. "seems like you need it a lot more, plus i have another one in my locker!" she then added on once she saw the look mapi gave her.
"thank you! i don't have a back up." you smiled, giving the norwegian a quick side hug.
"you don't have a back up? or a back up for your back up?" the girl questioned, making you frown at her. "a what? that's a thing?" you asked, making mapi let out a laugh.
but before either of the girls could answer you, you arrived at the gym where the rest of the girls were, making you realise that the three of you had taken a lot longer than you thought.
as soon as you walked into the room you instantly spotted alexia doing some light exercises with patri, you stared at her for a few moments, taking in the way she looked while she was doing the leg stretches and how good she looked while doing them.
you saw her eyes glance around the room, you assume she was looking for you as not even three seconds later her eyes land on you. you saw her say something to patri, before she stood up and made her way towards you.
you didn't get a chance to greet her properly before you felt her grab your hips and pull you into her, pressing her lips against your own, it didn't last as long as you would have wanted, as she pulled away before you could count.
when you opened your eyes again, you saw the confused look that had taken over her face, a slight pout on her lips. "you will gets lines," you reminded her, gently running your pointed finger over her forehead.
she tilted her head slightly before she kissed you again, this one lasted a little longer than the last one, but she once again pulled away too quickly for your liking.
"what's wrong?" you asked her, when you saw the look of confusion on her face once again.
"you changed the flavour of your lip balm."
"yeah, i lost the strawberry one and could not find it anywhere! so, ingrid gave me her spare one, but apparently i should have a back up, and a back up for the back up."
"you don't have a back up?" alexia questioned, "since when was a back up a thing? and why am i now just finding out about it?"
"what flavour is it?" your girlfriend asked, "raspberry jelly. why? don't you like it?" your frowned, "it's not that i don't like it, i just liked the strawberry one a lot better."
"i am sure it will grow on you just like the strawberry one did," you said, lightly scratching the back of her neck. "i love the strawberry one though! Era mi parte favorita de besarte,” she pouted.
you let out a small gasp, "you mean to tell me that the only reason you kissed me that much was because of the taste of my lips?" you joked, making alexia chuckle.
"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury!" she told you, placing a handful of kisses to your lips. "i kissed you because i love kissing you, and because of the taste of your lips." she joked, "but seriously, you need to get more of the strawberry one, i like that one a lot more!"
"hmm, maybe i will just keep using this one."
"then maybe i won't kiss you as much."
"then you will be missing out, because of my lips are fucking amazing! y'know, maybe i should find someone else who will appreciate the taste of my lips." you joked, unwrapping her arms from around your waist, pretending to look around the room.
but before you could do anything else, you felt two strong hands grab your hips, pulling you flush against her front. "is that the best you could do?"
"i heard ingrid is a good kisser, maybe i should go and kiss her instead, i am sure mapi won't mind-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before you felt ale's lips pressed against yours, one of her hands found home on your hip while the other slide up your side until her hand rested on your neck.
she didn't choke you, just kissed you so deep you forgot whose air you were breathing.
you were thanking god that you were stood in a place where no one else could see you.
“Nadie más puede hacerte sentir como yo cuando te beso, mi amor”
Secret // Alexia Putellas
| Part 2 | Part 3 |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
i just wanted to say thank you to every fanfic writer out there.
thank you for writing what others haven't, what others can't, what others won't.
thank you for writing what can be judged and hated, but writing it all the same.
thank you for indulging in something that you love and allowing the rest of us to love it with you.
if you have one kudos or one thousand, one comment or one hundred, one bookmark or fifty, i love each and every one of you for writing them.
thank you.
"that's my girl" is one of the sweetest and cutest thing that i really want to hear, like yes i am. you're right say it again
