The audacity of being asked to do chores is a personal attack on my peace and quiet. I might be doing the dishes, but Iâm definitely winning the imaginary argument in my head.
I had a fifteen minute long crying session yesternight over the fact that all I was 10 years ago, at the ripe old age of 14, is lost and lonely, and now, at 24, I am neither and that filled me with so much gratitude
reblog to tell a teenager that these arenât actually the best years of your life and that things can and will get better when you have independance and maybe are away from your situation right now.
hey idk how to articulate this part of being mentally ill but basically i feel like my life has been stolen from me in the most literal way and i canât explain it without sounding like im making a million pathetic excuses
Summary: You had started dating Katie a while ago, but had yet to meet her team. And they had yet to find out about you. Well after you pick your princess up after training they're shocked. Who is the tatted biker woman picking up their resident Irish Woman?
Warnings: none I think. Maybe mentions of tattooing and biking if you're uncomfortable with either.
Masterlist
The buzz of the tattoo machine was a sound you could measure time by. It was steady and predictable. It filled your tiny shop like white noise, wrapping around you as you leaned over your clientâs forearm, the needle tracing the last clean line of a compass rose.
âStill with me, yeah?â You asked, glancing up briefly. The guy on the table nodded. His jaw clenched tight, sweat gathering near his hairline.
You smiled faintly. âYouâre doinâ better than most.â
The machine purred to a stop. You sat back, flexing your fingers as you looked over your work. Bold lines and crisp shading, just the right amount of aggression. Exactly how you liked it and how your client had wanted it.
âAlright.â You said, wiping down the fresh ink. âYou're all set.â
He got up slowly, mumbling something about pain tolerance. You barely heard it as your phone buzzed from the counter, screen lighting up with a name that pulled a smile out of you before you could help it.
Love đ
Pick me up after training? xx
You bit back a laugh, typing out a quick reply before going to cash the guy out quickly.
You
Yeah. It ends at the usual time?
Love đ
Yup. Bring the bike đ
Of course she wanted the bike. You could picture her already, with her messy bun and a crooked grin. She'd probably still be in her training gear, pretending she didnât like showing off when she climbed on behind you. So far she had never asked you to pick her up, but she definitely would want to show off. She always did when you went out to a pub or similar.
You slipped your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the curious look your apprentice shot you from across the shop. You werenât the type to gush. The less people knew, the better. Especially considering who you were dating. Ireland's captain, in your opinion the prettiest girl in the world.
Katie liked it that way too. Your world was quiet, ink and late nights, sometimes taking out your bike but it was simple. While hers were cameras and press and fans who dissected everything. Keeping things quiet for now created that beautiful quiet between your worlds and that's where you both fit the best.
By the time you finished cleaning your station, the street outside was soft with the orange haze of late afternoon. You locked up and picked your helmet up before you straddled your bike. The engine kicked to life beneath you.
The air in St. Albans still carried a chill, even with the sun dipping low behind the training pitch. The last of the players were filtering out of the training center. Their voices were echoing across the car park. It was a mixture of shared laughter, some of the older ones teasing the younger ones, the sound of boots clattering against pavement.
You pulled up just outside the barriers, the deep growl of your motorbike slicing through the noise. Heads turned immediately and you couldn't help but feel out of place for a few seconds.
You killed the engine, swung your leg over the seat and leaned back against it. Helmet under one arm, black leather jacket creasing at the elbows. A few short strands of hair fell across your forehead, short and still damp from the shower youâd taken before heading out.
The collar of your jacket sat low enough to reveal the edge of a tattoo curling up the side of your neck. Just a few dark lines and soft shading, the kind that drew the eye whether you wanted it to or not.
You scrolled absently through your phone, pretending not to notice the looks. You had been around footballers before, clients mostly, but this was different. These were Katie's teammates and friends.
A door slammed somewhere near the gym. Laughter spilled out again, louder this time. You looked up just in time to see a wave of red training tops come through the gate. You recognized them Beth Mead at the front, Leah Williamson close behind, both mid-conversation until they noticed you and immediately they slowed.
Beth tilted her head, muttering something to Leah that made her snort. You could almost hear it, after all you'd probably ask the same if someone looking like you showed up in a place like this. âWho the hell is that?â
You ignored them, tapping your thumb against your phone screen. You were trying very hard to pretend you didn't care. Every muscle in your body was tense. But then you spotted her and you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered at the sight.
Katie McCabe. She was easy to find, even in the crowd. Hair tied back messily, a grin already forming when her eyes caught yours. That grin always gave you away.
She started walking over before anyone could stop her. Her duffel bag slung over one shoulder, confidence radiating off her like sheâd been waiting for this all day. You straightened a little, pushing off the bike as she came closer.
âHey, trouble.â She said, her Irish accent thick and teasing. You could see her eyes sparkling as she looked you up and down. âDidnât think youâd actually come.â
You smirked and kept your voice low. âTold you I would.â âYeah, but I figured Iâd get a text like âsorry, too busy tattooing skulls and daggersâ or something.â
You laughed quietly and shook your head. âYouâve got a really narrow idea of my job, Princess.â
Behind her, the team had gone completely silent. You could feel their confusion and the curiosity about your identity. And Katie definitely felt it too.
She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, then back at you with a small, wicked smile.
âWanna give me a lift home?â She asked, like it was the most normal question in the world.
You held up the spare helmet. âYouâd think I'd drive all this way to leave without you. Come on princess. I'll treat you to dinner.â
She took it and her fingers brushed yours briefly. That tiny touch was enough to make the world narrow down to just her and the hum of the bike beneath you.
From the sidelines, Leahâs voice carried over, half-shocked, half-amused.
âWait. Youâre with her?â
Katie just grinned wider, slipping the helmet on. âAye. Didnât I tell ya Iâve got great taste?â
You shook your head, chuckling, as she climbed on behind you. Her arms sliding naturally around your waist.
The engine roared to life again and as you pulled away from the curb, you caught a last glimpse of the team. All wide eyes and open mouths, standing frozen in the St. Albans Carpark. You turned your head a bit to look at Katie. âHold on tight, princess.â
The bike shot forward, the sound of the engine echoing off the quiet fields as you and Katie disappeared down the road.
The next week, training finished early again. The autumn air in St. Albans had sharpened since last time. It was crisp enough to bite at fingertips, the sky streaked with soft grey. Nobody said it out loud, but half the squad lingered longer than usual in the car park.
âCoincidence.â Leah muttered, keeping her arms crossed. âSure.â Beth said. âJust like last time was a coincidence.â
Right on cue, the low, smooth purr of a motorbike rolled up the drive. Every head turned.
You coasted to a stop just outside the barrier again, helmet tilted slightly down. When you took it off, a few strands of short hair fell across your forehead. Black leather jacket. Faded jeans. The glint of metal at your ear. A tattoo just peeking above your collar. The same look they had seen last time.
This time, when Katie came out, her grin bright and easy, she didnât just hop on the bike. She waved the others over.
âAlright, come on then.â She called, that mischievous spark in her voice. âMight as well introduce ya before you all die of nosiness.â
A few of them pretended they werenât interested, but they all still walked over quickly. Leah led the way, followed closely by Beth, Caitlin and Kyra, all trying to look casual and failing miserably.
You straightened as they approached, helmet tucked under your arm.
âEveryone?â Katie said, her eyes shining with amusement. âThis is Y/N.â
You offered a small smile, the kind that reached your eyes even if your expression stayed calm. âHey. Nice to finally meet you lot. Katieâs told me loads.â
Beth blinked. âShe⊠has?â
Katie elbowed her gently. âDonât make it weird, Meado.â
You chuckled quietly and then added. âIâve got a studio over in Camden. Tattoo place. So if any of you ever want ink done properly, come by. First oneâs on the house.â
That broke the ice immediately.
âNo way!â Caitlin lit up. âYou own that place? Iâve heard of it, people say youâre one of the best.â
You shrugged and smiled modestly. âWe try to keep the bar high, our clients deserve the best. Itâs a good gig.â
Leah relaxed a little, she was clearly reassessing your looks and the way you acted. âDidnât think youâd be the chatty type.â She admitted and was smiling faintly.
You grinned. âDepends who Iâm talking to.â
Katie rolled her eyes but couldnât hide her smirk. âSheâs nice when she wants to be.â
âRude.â You said, but your tone was soft and the look you gave her said âyou love this nonsense anyway.â
Then, with practiced efficiency, you bent to the bike and opened a small compartment under the seat. Katieâs duffel bag went in first. You checked the latch twice before closing it and then reached for a second leather jacket. It was smaller and fitted, obviously for Katie.
âDonât tell me you keep her gear in there.â Beth said, already half-laughing like she couldn't really believe you had bought gear just for Katie.
âCourse I do.â You replied, straightening the jacket and handing it to Katie. âRoads arenât always kind and Iâd rather she stay in one piece.â
Katie was already sliding her arms into the sleeves, grin tugging at her mouth. âSee? Proper care and attention.â
You passed her the spare helmet next. âStrap it tight this time. You didnât last time.â
That earned a chorus of teasing oohs from the squad. Katie gave you a mock glare. âYou makinâ me look bad in front of me teammates, love.â
You smirked. âYou do that all by yourself.â
Laughter rippled through the group. The tension from before was completely gone now. They watched as Katie adjusted the helmet and gave the team a little salute. âAlright, you lot. See you tomorrow.â
You climbed onto the bike first, then looked back just as she settled behind you. You could feel her arms looping around your waist.
âStay outta trouble, McCabe.â Leah called, grinning. âNo promises!â Katie shouted over the engine as it rumbled to life.
You nodded politely to the group before rolling forward, the bike gliding smoothly out of the car park.
Beth exhaled when the sound faded. âOkay, Iâll say it. Sheâs kinda Lovelyâ
Leah smirked. âYeah. And terrifyingly competent. No wonder Katieâs obsessed.â
Summary: Your love life gets a bit more interesting when you move to Barcelona
Wolfsburg has been a good club for transfers for Barcelona.
Caro is the first one that comes to mind when it comes to that relationship. She's been an excellent right-winger for the team and can almost guaranteed to be on the stat sheet of any game, either with an assist or a goal.
Then there was Frido and Ingrid, who slotted into the team dynamics almost effortlessly. There was barely any kind of adjustment needed on a personal level with the two of them already friends when they arrived. They settled in easily.
More recently from the talented halls of Wolfsburg, comes Ewa and you. You and Ewa were Poland's favourite daughters, the star left-winger and striker of the she-wolves. You'd assisted almost all of Ewa's goals at your last season of Wolfsburg and now the pair of you were here, at Barcelona for your first Liga F season.
It was truly a small world because Poland's favourite daughter you might have been but Alexia knew you as her old next door neighbour. Your family had worked at the Polish consulate in Barcelona up until you were twelve when you all moved back to Poland for one reason or another.
It was a terrible course of fate that every time Barcelona came up against Wolfsburg, you'd been injured or ill enough to not play.
Now though, this was Alexia's chance to reconnect. Or, reconnect was the first thought in her mind. Now though it's something like...
When did you get so hot?
The Spain sun was a good look on you even though you'd only been here a month or two, enough time to soak up the sun and tan beautifully. You were leaning against the wall outside with Ewa, a tank top on that showed off your toned muscles and sinfully short shorts that Alexia had to force herself to look away from unless she felt like being caught leering at your legs like a creep.
She was not a creep, just an admirer of the female form and yours was stunning.
You spoke in rapid Polish to Ewa, who lingered near you and was finishing off her apple.
"Alexia," Ewa says, dipping her head in greeting," It's nice to see you again."
"You too," Alexia says back, though her eyes dart back to you again," And you as well."
"It's been a while, huh, Ale?"
You're smiling a mind melting smile. When you were a kid, you'd had the most awkward smile in the world. You'd somehow made yourself even more shy and awkward than Alexia as a child and that was truly a feat in and of itself.
But you'd grown into it. 'It' being everything. Your arms, your legs, your face, your smile. It was confident now, that smile, showing off perfect teeth and projecting a strong sense of self-assuredness.
"Many years," Alexia confirms. She pulls at the sides of your jacket. She just can't help herself. It's barely even a jacket, one of those things that have just a zip and no arms. You'd probably only worn it for the pockets.
If you were still like you were as a kid then Alexia was sure you still hated to lug a bag around with you all the time too.
She pulls the zipper up and down a few times. She hears Ewa mutter something in Polish to you and you stutter something back before your national teammate heads inside.
"You look good."
Alexia has to look up at you now. As a kid, she'd always been the taller one but now you towered over her like you were one of the Scandis. You're looking down at her, eyes wide and earnest and capturing that sense of wonderment that had been oh so familiar as a child.
You hadn't changed that much at least, Alexia thinks.
It's a welcome comfort, something small she can cling to. The rest of the world will know you as you are, as this big, tall and toned beast on the field for Poland and now, for Barcelona too.
But Alexia will have this small thing with you, this reminder of your shared childhood together.
"Y-You do too."
Alexia's grin widens into a smirk. Not too different as you were when you were a kid, after all. At least, not right now. With her. Holding your jacket as you're practically pressed against the wall.
"You look really good." She's practically purring now. She's nowhere this forward usually but seeing you again, like this, in that outfit, she just can't help herself.
"I..."
"Preseason starts today," Alexia says. She forces herself to let go of you, turning towards the door. She knows you'll follow her. "I hope you're ready to get all hot and sweaty."
Any hope of an innuendo goes straight over your head and you nervously chuckle.
"I think the sun's been making me hot and sweaty since the plane touched down."
"You'll get used to it."
"Will I?"
"Well, the heat, maybe. The sweat never goes anywhere."
Falling into step with Alexia is easy, like you've been waiting to do it for years now. You're two years younger than her but it had hardly mattered when you were kids. You went everywhere she did. She went everywhere you did.
Falling into step with her is as easy as breathing as she steps into the locker room. You've already been on a tour of the facility so you know your locker is in the corner wedged between Ewa on your left and one of your new team members on your right.
You yank of your jacket and shirt and you think you hear the unsteady suck in of breath behind you and a low whistling but you're not quite sure. You're standing in just your sports bra and shorts when a familiar hand slides over the wide expanse of your back.
"Ingrid," You smile at your old Wolfsburg teammate.
She giggles. "Hi, y/n." Her hand rests on your shoulder briefly before a finger gently traces your collarbone. "I'm glad you decided to sign."
"I'm glad too. I've only heard good things."
"I'm sure we can make it even better than good, your time here."
"You think so?"
"I know so." A soft kiss presses onto your cheek. You'd blush if Ingrid hadn't been doing that to you for years now. Her lips on your cheek, her hands on your body, it was all things that made Ingrid, Ingrid.
Ewa rolls her eyes next to you and you know she's going to say Ingrid's flirting with you again. You don't believe her. You've never believed her when she said stuff like that.
Your reunion with Frido is much more careful. She catches you as you sit by the cooler, sipping your drink and basking in the sun like a lizard. She's looking at you like she's seeing you differently than she ever did at Wolfsburg, eyes wide like she's just come to some kind of startling realisation.
"Hey, you," She says softly and you roll your head to the side to look at her, pushing the hair out of your face.
"Hey, Frido."
"It looks like Spain's been welcoming you well. Nice tan." She settles down next to you, close enough that had it been someone like Ewa, you might call her out for hovering.
"Had to do something for a month before preseason," You say back with a smile," Looks like you were too as well."
"Italy, actually with..." She trails off.
You sit up straighter. "Right, yeah. Him. I heard that you broke up. I'm sorry-"
"I broke up with him," Frido says quickly," He didn't break up with me. I broke up with him."
"Still, you were together for a while. I'm sorry it didn't work out."
If you weren't so earnest, so focused on your conversation with Frido, you would have noticed Alexia and Ingrid. They were circling like vultures, right in earshot while trying to appear as normal as possible.
"What about you?" Frido doesn't seem to want to keep talking about her ex-boyfriend anymore. "What's going on in your love life?"
"Nothing," You say plainly," I didn't want to start something with someone when I was in the middle of transferring."
Were you imagining it or was Frido leaning even closer?
"So you're single?"
"Unfortunately."
Okay, seriously, were you imagining things or did Frido's eyes just light up?
"Looking for a partner then?"
"If someone wants me and doesn't mind putting up with all the footballing," You laugh mockingly at yourself as you stand, offering Frido your hand.
She takes it, tongue darting out to wet her lips. "I'm sure you'll have so many women lining up for you."
"You flatter me too much."
"You don't flatter yourself enough."
If you had a bit more courage, you'd probably ask why Frido, Ingrid and Alexia remained in your orbit all day. Frido was always a steady presence against you. Ingrid was just as touchy-feely as she always was. Alexia kept looking, kept smirking, kept raising a brow at you whenever you managed to meet her gaze.
"Hyenas hunt in packs too," Ewa says as the two of you leave training together.
You frown. "You like hyenas?"
"Only the alpha female gets first choice mating rights," Ewa continues cryptically.
"Is this way of you telling me we're watching a hyena documentary when we get home?"
"You're hopeless."
"Hey! Wait...Ewa, wait up!"
Living with Ewa's always been easy. Living in Spain with her is hardly any different to living with her in Germany and sharing a room with her at camp.
But you could really do without her inviting people around without warning you. You haven't even noticed the team have arrived, headphones on and XBox booted up on the tv with one of your new games running on the screen.
You practically jump out of your skin as hands run over your shoulders, lithe fingers dancing on your skin as lips kiss your jaw in greeting.
Ingrid.
"Is this one new?" She asks, hand shifting to hold your wrist loosely when you pull your headphones off.
"The game?"
"Yeah."
"It is. I got it today."
"Hmmm. You're always so dedicated at whatever you put your mind to."
The pout on Ingrid's lips are just as familiar as her presence glued to your side. Even at Wolfsburg, she would sit by your side and pout when you gave more attention to your game than her.
"Let me just get to the next save spot," You tell her, eyes still glued to the screen," Ewa's going to come out here in a moment and make me be social anyway."
Ingrid's hand stays on your wrist as you play, even when you keep dying, even when your jaw tightens and even when someone else slumps down against your other side.
Alexia.
She leans against your side heavily, resting her head against your shoulder like it belongs there. Her arms wind around your own and she sighs, nuzzling into you like this is completely normal.
If you weren't so focused on getting to the save station then you would have noticed the smug grin Alexia sent Ingrid's away and the pointed eyebrow raise Ingrid gave back.
It takes three more tries and several nervy moments before you can get to your save spot and turn off the console. By that point, the rest of the team has assembled in the kitchen and you've got Ingrid and Alexia practically clinging to your sides as you walk in.
Frido slides a beer over to you and you clink the bottle against her wine glass in thanks. Her eyes linger on you, roving over your form as she drinks. Her eyes dart over to Alexia and Ingrid, narrowing them slightly as she puts the glass down, circling the rim with her finger.
"You wouldn't mind if I borrowed a shirt, would you?" Frido asks finally, eyes alight with something you're not quite sure how to name," It's just that I spilled wine on this opening the bottle."
Somehow, you wiggle out of Ingrid and Alexia's grips even though they've both tightened their hands on your arms. Frido's hand rests on your lower back as she leaves.
Alexia and Ingrid stare at the pair of your retreating backs.
Ingrid reaches for Frido's abandoned wine glass, swirling the liquid around before draining it in one gulp. "Frido's not even gay."
Alexia seems equally as annoyed. "She's picked the worst time to start experimenting."
You open your closet as Frido lays back against your bed. She wiggles up to the middle of the bed while your back is turned, rummaging through your closet for a shirt you think might suit her.
"You bed is so soft."
"Softest in Spain."
"Oh, really?"
Frido's hair is loose and unbound as she stares at you, head tilted at an angle so she has to look through her lashes to see you, propped up on her elbows.
"I...Er, I like to think so."
"I've never been in a girl's bed before."
"Never?"
"I can't remember if I've ever kissed a girl either."
"Oh!" Your cheeks feel hot and you don't want to glance off to the side to see if they're as red as you think they are. "You can't remember?"
You hold out your hand with the shirt and Frido sits up. You try not to squeak when she pulls off her shirt and you make a big show of looking up at your ceiling rather than her shirt as she, finally, takes it from you. Her lingering fingers feel electric on your skin.
"I didn't really experiment when I was younger."
She's still not pulling on the shirt, just holding it in her hands as she looks at you like she's trying to send some kind of message.
"But I'm very open to doing it now." She pulls your shirt on smoothly and stands. Her hands lingers on your wrist and she presses a soft, quick kiss to your jaw. You're hopeless to do anything but stare at her as she leaves, not closing the door after her.
A second later, Ewa leans in your doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. "Hyenas are bigger than wolves, you know," She says and now you're really lost," And smart. Smart enough to decide what they want to bring down before they go hunting."
"So...is that a yes to the hyena documentary? You don't need to be cryptic with it. I said I would watch one with you."
Ewa doesn't mention her hyena documentary for a while after that and you forget about it entirely. You both settle in well at Barcelona, back into assisting and scoring form just like at Wolfsburg.
Ewa's your most dedicated customer in that regard and you both pull off some pretty spectacular moves, particularly against Real Madrid where you chip the ball straight over their keeper for Ewa to finish off at the back post.
Alexia is also a frequent customer. You'd caught her out a few times with a sharp cut infield for her to bury into the net. Her faces lights up each time like you've done something more than your job and she practically crushes you into a hug each time, head resting on your chest for a fraction longer than you expected.
Ingrid doesn't score nearly as often but even her goals have picked up with you presiding over corners, sending the ball straight onto her head to tumble past the keeper.
Her hand easily finds your waist when the match is over, a kiss pressed to your cheek in thanks for the assist earlier as she passes you her bottle.
You drink from it eagerly and Ingrid presses ever closer. Her nose nudges against your hair and you turn slightly to look at her. She smiles. You smile back.
"Thank you," She says softly," I wasn't expecting the assist."
"I just sent it over to you," You reply with a small shrug," You're the one that sent it in."
"You're too modest for you own good." Her hand is on your cheek, turning your head to face her properly, staring at you with something warm in her eyes. "Don't worry though. I'll make sure that you get all the credit you're due."
Her other hand snakes down to your hand, closing around it gently and lacing your fingers with her own. A hand in your own. A hand on your cheek. Unbroken eye contact with one of the prettiest girls you've ever seen in your life.
"Sometimes, you give me too much credit."
She laughs at that, leaning forward to peck your forehead. "And you don't give yourself nearly enough. We balance each other out."
Ingrid's hand stays in yours even after you finish drinking. Her hand stays in yours even as you sign things for fans and take photos. Her hands stays in yours even as you walk back to the tunnel together, her shoulder brushing against yours and other hand curled around your bicep as you walk along.
Her hands are soft. Her presence is familiar. She brushes against you like this is all completely natural, lips practically ghosting your ear even though you're already close enough to hear her without it.
Your head is angled towards her, dipped close enough that your neck kind of aches from the strain of it but you don't mind at all. Ingrid's voice is familiar too, soft and light and flows into your ears easily as she speaks about nothing and everything at the same time.
You're just about to enter the locker room with her when your captain slips between the door, bringing you both to a halt. Alexia smiles at you, hand reaching out for your unoccupied one. You smile back at her.
You don't notice Ingrid gritting her teeth.
"Hey," Alexia says.
"Hey," You say back.
"My Mami has been asking about you, you know," She continues," And Alba. They're sleeping over at my place tonight but they were wondering if they could see you again? Just for lunch. No pressure or anything."
"I'd love to see them again. Just send me the time and place."
Alexia beams at you, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your cheek and squeeze your hand. "I will. I've had so much to say about you."
"All good I hope?"
Alexia's eyes drop from your eyes to something lower on your face, lingering there for just a moment as her voice drops on octave too, going deep and husky. "You have no idea."
She slips back into the locker room and a firm squeeze of your hand from Ingrid has you turning to look at her.
Her brows are furrowed and mouth twisted like she's just seen something distasteful. "You're out with Alexia and her family tomorrow for lunch," She says earnestly with big wide eyes," But do you have time in the morning for breakfast with me? Your building is only five minutes from mine and you used to love my waffles in Germany."
"Ingrid," You reply," Your waffles are the best things I've ever tasted. If I ever say no to that, it isn't me."
Ingrid grins, cheeks flushing red for a moment as she presses a kiss to your cheek. "I'll expect you bright and early then."
Ewa rolls her eyes at you when you tell her of your plans the next morning, still in her pjs and leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed as you zip up your jacket. "Am I seeing you at all today?" She asks," You're walking straight into the dens, you know."
"You'll see me," You reply, pulling on your shoes," I don't think breakfast with Ingrid will take long and there's a bunch of hours from then to when I'm meant to meet up with Ale."
Ewa rolls her eyes again muttering under her breath about 'lack of self-perseveration' and 'no survival instincts'. She doesn't say much else though, locking the door behind you as you head out to Ingrid's place.
The smell of waffles greet you like an old friend as you step through the door, shucking off your shoes and accepting the soft kiss to your cheek.
"I got coffee on my way," You say," You still take it like you did in Germany?"
"You remembered?"
"I remember everything about you Ingrid."
Ingrid's cheeks glow red at your words. Her hand reaches out to you. You meet her halfway, sliding your palm against hers as she guides you over to her breakfast bar.
It's always been easy with Ingrid. Easy even though there had been a language barrier when your first met. Easy even though you were both communicating in a language that wasn't your first.
Ingrid had been your first adult crush. You'd never actually said anything to her, not wanting the team to become awkward. But she'd always been a little too pretty. A little too intimidating. A little too bold for you to do anything about it.
You could settle for this though. This breakfast and coffee thing with her. Even though just one touch of her against you makes it feel like your skin is on fire.
Her foods is perfect. Her presence is even better.
Ingrid. Ingrid. Ingrid.
She's on your mind even when you leave, a ghost of a kiss on your cheek, so close to your lips like she had considered kissing them first before changing her mind at the last moment.
Ingrid Engen, your favourite Norwegian in the world with her soft smile and her beautiful words and the way she made you go all gooey and soft with just a look.
She lives in your mind like she pays rent, only being dispelled as a familiar presence falls into step with you.
"You're early."
"Your Mami enjoys early," You reply softly, head turning slightly to look at Alexia.
She's stunning in the afternoon sun. Her skin is practically glowing and whatever perfume she's wearing makes you want to fall in her lap and breath her in forever.
"You remembered."
"Of course I do. I hung around your house so often, it's been drilled into me."
You laugh and pretend not to feel the way her hand rests on your lower back. Like it belongs there naturally.
When you were a kid, you had no idea why your stomach got fluttery when Alexia looked at you. You had no idea why you got nervous talking to her or why you felt like you were set on fire whenever she so much as brushed a hand against yours.
It wasn't until years later, back in Poland and staring up at your ceiling as a teenager, that you realised you'd had a crush on her. Your first crush. Your childhood crush. Alexia Putellas, world class footballer and your old neighbour. Once upon a time, you felt like the world revolved around her.
"Mami is so excited to see you," Alexia says to you, hand still pressed against your back," And you'll have to deal with Alba. We can beat her back with sticks like we did as kids if she gets too much."
Shocked laughter escapes you at that. "Sticks still keep her away?"
"I'd hope so," Alexia laughs, bumping against you," Otherwise she'd never leave my house."
Lunch was simple. Easy. Eli was delighted to see you just like Alexia said she would. Alba was similarly delighted, playful and friendly just like when you were kids. Alexia stayed by your side the whole time, holding your hand on the top of the table and insisting on feeding you some of her meal. You'd completely missed the pointed looks Alba and Eli exchanged over the table.
You're heading home when Frido calls you. You're a little shocked that she even remembers how handy you can be. It seemed like forever again when you'd helped her put up shelves and built cupboards for her when she first got to Wolfsburg. You can barely remember it yourself but she does because she's down the phone practically begging for your help.
"I didn't know you had so many tools," You laugh as you sit over what's meant to be new cabinet but looks more like a disaster," I'm giving you credit for trying, Frido, but I think you did the right thing calling me."
Frido's face is bright red as you get to work. You write it off as embarrassment and not the way she had practically fallen into you when she opened the door, your arms catching her safely around the waist and her face firmly planted in your chest.
"You're the handiest person I know," Frido replies and if you weren't so focused on undoing the disaster of a job she'd been doing herself, you would have noticed the way she fluttered her eyes at you as she spoke. "I knew just who to call. You help me out so much. I can't thank you enough."
You shrug. "No thanks needed, Frido. I'm happy to help you however you need."
A singular perfect eyebrow quirks upwards at that. "Is that right? Well, darling, I'll make sure to remember that."
One night, when Frido was new to Wolfsburg, the team had gone to a club. You can't quite remember why. It was probably some celebration for a game well won or a trophy or maybe even someone's birthday.
You don't actually remember much of that evening at all. You know you'd drank a lot. Not blackout drunk but the fun kind of drunk where your inhibitions were completely loose. You remember dancing with Frido though, even if dancing was the nice way of putting it.
She, equally drunk, had kissed you that night. Lips brushed yours. Hands on your cheeks. Body pressed against you. She'd kissed you. You'd kissed back.
And you never spoke of it again.
You assume that she'd forgotten or woke up the next morning with no recollection of it all because only two days later, she said she was dating some man.
You'd never brought it up but it did float in your mind now. She's smiling at you, inching closer. A hand against you. A brush of her shoulder against yours. A moment where she sits between your legs so you can guide her on how to correctly tighten a screw. She leans back into you, head pillowed on your shoulder as she gazes up at you with a smile that looks like it's reserved for you.
She touches your face then, the soft drag of fingers against your cheek. They grow red under her touch and she giggles at that.
"Let me make you dinner," She says.
"You don't have to make me dinner for thanks," You say automatically," I came regardless. I don't need a reward."
"Let me do this for you, darling," Frido insists," Please? Let me?" This time, you did catch the way she flutters her eyes and your throat bobs.
"You'll let me help?"
"You can set on the counter and look pretty. That would help me a lot."
Ingrid. Alexia. Frido.
Frido. Ingrid. Alexia.
Alexia. Frido. Ingrid.
Each of them circles your mind that night. You close your eyes. You try to sleep but each time, they appear before you. Like they've imprinted themselves in your mind, tattooed themselves onto your eyelids until you could think of was them, cycling through each one like you had no choice.
You wake with a gasp the next morning, shifting your legs under your sheets as your throat bobs and your dream still lingers in your mind, right at the front where you can't forget it.
You clear your throat, cheeks warm at the thoughts that swarm there and you hurry to pull on proper clothes.
"Y/n!" Ewa hollers from down the hall.
"Y-Yeah?"
"The door!"
"What about it?"
Ewa laughs, loud enough for you to hear it through the wall. "It's for you."
With food stamps being shut down this holiday season, a lot of families are going to be struggling to put food on the table. Please consider donating canned goods or nonperishable items to your local food shelters. Itâs a simple way to spread kindness and help those in need this holiday season!
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