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#All England Championships
technoajay · 2 years
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Nadal, Djokovic Favourites as Wimbledon 2022 Enters Uncharted Territory
Nadal, Djokovic Favourites as Wimbledon 2022 Enters Uncharted Territory
For an observer, reverting to the habit of tuning into tennis at the All England Championships, few details may seem astray this year as the event, steeped deep into tradition and regarded as one of the elite sporting spectacles, treads into the realms of the unknown. Wimbledon is sporting royalty. The tournament creates legends. But, even before the first trope of players reached the famed SW 19…
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manifold-updates · 2 years
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Jack replied to MC Championship & Ranboo!
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shakira-fan-page · 9 months
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New photos | Shakira at day twelve of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships at All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club in London, England. (Jul 14, 2023)
📸: nicolasgerardin
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Prince William and Catherine, Prince and Princess of Wales, Prince George, and Princess Charlotte arrive to attend day fourteen of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships at All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club on 16 July 2023 in London, England.
📸: WPA Pool / WireImage / Getty Images
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duchesscambridges · 2 years
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The Duchess of Cambridge arrives on the court to present the Runner Up Dish and the Wimbledon Trophy after the Gentlemen’s Singles Final Match on Day 14 of the Wimbledon Championships at the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club on July 10, 2022.
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Jimmy at the County Championship
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rightnewshindi · 14 days
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England Badminton Championships: भारत की शीर्ष खिलाड़ी पीवी सिंधु दूसरे दौर में हारी, क्वार्टर फाइनल में पहुंचे लक्ष्य सेन
England Badminton Championships: भारत की शीर्ष खिलाड़ी पीवी सिंधु दूसरे दौर में हारी, क्वार्टर फाइनल में पहुंचे लक्ष्य सेन
All England Badminton Championships: भारत के लक्ष्य सेन दुनिया के नंबर तीन खिलाड़ी एंडर्स एंटोनसेन पर तीन गेम तक चले मुकाबले में शानदार जीत दर्ज कर गुरुवार को ऑल इंग्लैंड चैंपियनशिप के क्वार्टर फाइनल में पहुंच गए लेकिन देश की शीर्ष महिला एकल खिलाड़ी पीवी सिंधू को दूसरे दौर में हार का सामना करना पड़ा। दुनिया के 18वें नंबर खिलाड़ी सेन दूसरा गेम गंवाने के बाद तीसरे गेम में 2-8 से पिछड़ रहे थे। साल…
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insidecroydon · 4 months
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Council planners opt to block Wimbledon's 'corporate ecocide'
News from the far end of the tram network shows that council planning departments really can say “No” to big-money interests, after planners rejected proposals from the All England Club to build a massive stadium and dozens of tennis courts over a public park. Join the queue: instead of using the space for paying punters to wait their turn, the Wimbledon tennis organisers want to build on the…
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Steal Your Girl - LN4
Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.
THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER
18+ ONLY
Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall
Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader
5.5k
Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos
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Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.
Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.
But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.
As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.
Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.
He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.
Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.
But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.
But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.
All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.
I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.
The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.
He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.
“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.
As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.
Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.
It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.
Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.
***
It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.
As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.
After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.
But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.
Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.
If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.
These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.
But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.
Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.
It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.
He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.
It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.
During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.
When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.
It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.
Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.
As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.
After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.
The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.
Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.
Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.
But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.
For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.
“Hey,” he shouted over the music.
Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.
Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.
Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.
Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.
"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.
Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.
"I know."
Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.
"And I fucking hate it," he finished.
Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.
And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.
I think you should leave your boyfriend.
But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.
And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.
It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.
As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.
Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.
As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.
Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.
But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.
Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.
Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.
There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.
When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.
She missed it, and she was missed.
By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.
Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?
She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.
In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.
But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.
So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.
On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.
Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.
So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.
This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.
There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.
Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”
Lando gestured for her to go on.
“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”
It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”
***
It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.
And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.
But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.
It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.
And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.
Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.
There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.
If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?
He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.
But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.
After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.
“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.
Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.
They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.
It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.
It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.
Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.
When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.
She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”
“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.
Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.
Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.
It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.
That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.
It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?
But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.
But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.
Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.
Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.
There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”
Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.
***
Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.
But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.
Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.
When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.
Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.
That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.
The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.
In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.
And she loved every second of it.
Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.
"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.
She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.
When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.
He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.
He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.
His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.
Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.
Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.
The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.
Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.
Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.
Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.
"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.
Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.
"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.
Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.
Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.
She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.
When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.
He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.
Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.
He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.
"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.
Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.
Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.
***
Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.
When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.
But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.
His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.
He was going to kill Lando Norris.
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shakira-fan-page · 9 months
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New photos | Shakira attends day twelve of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships at All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club in London, England. (Jul 14, 2023)
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Prince George and Princess Charlotte attend day fourteen of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships at All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club on 16 July 2023 in London, England.
📸: WPA Pool / WireImage / Getty Images
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duchesscambridges · 2 years
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The Duchess of Cambridge attends the Gentlemen's Singles Quarter Finals on Day 9 of the Wimbledon Championships at the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club on July 5, 2022.
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adascore · 2 months
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THE MISSED SWAP
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pairing: alexia putellas x england!reader
warnings: swearing. reader receives a push. jealous alexia. mentions of alexia doing her acl.
author's note: finally finished this!! love writing about the complexity of their rivalry!
part 1 | masterlist
•••••••
The press conference room was filled with all sorts of journalists; Spaniards, Brits or just avid women's football researchers who were hyped about the upcoming friendly between Spain and England.
Between Y/N and Alexia rested only a few metres, their respective coaches accompanying them. Sarina and her captain sat composed waiting on the start of the conference, while their opposition exuded a calm confidence that would have intimidated any other pair.
Despite the heartwarming interaction at the Champions League final a month prior, there was no evidence of any kind of friendship as the two star players avoided each other's eyes, and any traces of the camaraderie from Turin seemed distant.
In an attempt to break the ice, Alexia discreetly sought a glance from the striker, hoping for a sign of recognition or acknowledgment, but the Spaniard was only met with a polite smile from Sarina.
The midfielder felt almost stupid for having looked forward to this, seeing her again after Turin. She'd hoped it was the start of a change, one where they could talk to one another without the forced formalities and could even become friends.
Yeah, she felt incredibly stupid.
The moderator signaled the start of the pre-match press conference. ''Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the press conference with Spain coach and captain Jorge Vilda and Alexia Putellas, as well as England coach and captain Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Y/L. We are going to start with the questions.''
The first few minutes were standard; asking about the expectations, main thoughts about the opposition, how they were all feeling about the upcoming European Championships, etc. The four of them answered all the questions directly and in a diplomatic manner.
However, it was a certain Spanish journalist that decided to shake things up. ''Hello, everyone. This question is for Alexia,'' the man spoke up in his native language, ''after the Champions League final, we witnessed, what seemed, an emotional interaction between you and Y/N. Would you say your relationship has changed since then? Or was it just a moment for the camera's? Will it have any impact on the game tomorrow?''
Alexia maintained her diplomatic tone, carefully choosing her words. ''Good morning. The final in Turin was an intense and emotional moment for both of our teams. With Y/N, we share respect for football, the game. Now, we are here to represent our countries in preparation for the Euro's.''
The reporter, undeterred by the captain's media-trained answer, pressed with a sly smile. ''But is there a good relationship between you two? There seemed to have been a connection of some sorts.''
''I understand there might be interest in our personal relationship, but I want to focus on our match tomorrow.'' She answered with poise, not entertaining the controversy he was trying to stir.
Y/N couldn't help but smirk at the journalist's persistence. Despite not understand their language, it was clear Alexia hadn't given him the satisfaction of actually answering his question.
The moderator urged for someone else to take the microphone, quickly wanting to move on before it became more of an issue. The word was then given to an English journalist.
''Hi, for the Daily Mail,'' he greeted them, Y/N having to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of for which news outlet he worked for, ''for Y/N, uh, many of the players of the Spanish team play for Barcelona, and we all saw what happened last month. Do you think their defeat had something to do with your presence or maybe that the rivalry between you and Alexia Putellas was a factor in that?''
Y/N raised an eyebrow at the loaded question, but remained composed. ''Every match is different, and Spain is also different from Barcelona. Football is a team sport, and the outcome of a match depends on a lot of different factors. I don't think it is fair to attribute the result of a match to the presence or absence of a single player. I mean- I'm a footballer, not a witch.'' She concluded her answer with a lighthearted joke, relieved it caused some of the tension in the room to disappear.
''A question for both the coaches,'' the conference moved on again, ''how do each of you feel about another meeting between Alexia and Y/N? They're not just the star players of your teams, but also of women's football. Does it add any excitement or pressure to the match?''
Sarina responded first. ''Well, every match is a great opportunity to have good battles, as a group or as individuals. They're both exceptional talents so it will be a treat to watch for all of us, but the main focus is on the team performance and preparing for the European Championship next month.''
Jorge nodded, seemingly agreeing. ''Individual matchups add excitement, but the success of the team remains a priority.''
The press conference concluded not much later, the four of them alleviated they could get up and leave.
As they exited, Y/N and Alexia found themselves walking side by side, albeit a bit awkwardly. The corridor felt like a neutral ground, free from the scrutiny of the media.
“They're always searching for stuff…” Y/N broke the silence, still somewhat frustrated over the questions about their personal relationship.
Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar feeling. “Yeah, so stupid.”
The quietness returned, both women unsure of what to say.
“Congrats on winning the league again, by the way.” Alexia rambled, the words leaving her mouth like a speed train.
Y/N smiled, appreciating the attempt to continue the conversation. “Thanks, you too.”
“Thank you.” The midfielder hesitated, a subtle struggle visible on her face.
Alexia sighed, searching for the right words. “Look, about Turin…”
Y/N raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What about it?”
There was a pause as they walked, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
“I wanted to talk more, you know, after the match.” She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
The England captain slowly nodded. “Ah, yeah, it looked like that, but then your coach whisked you away.” She awkwardly laughed.
“I don't know why he did that, it probably felt as weird to me as it did to you,” Alexia responded, “but I just wanted to thank you for your words, cause… you didn't have to come up to me, but you did.”
Y/N smiled warmly. “You really don't have to thank me. I know what it's like as captain, it's tough. It just felt like the right thing to do.”
“What you said about our growth and stuff, it means more than you think, you know, to the team.” The Spaniard quickly added the last bit, not wanting to get too sentimental.
“I'm glad if it brought a bit of comfort to your team. I meant it, you guys have really made a great transition.” Y/N wasn't by any means a great loser, but she would always give a team credit when it's due.
Alexia nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. I'm, uh, excited about tomorrow.”
The England captain grinned, feeling a subtle shift in their dynamic. "Yeah, it should be a good game.''
“Yes, it should. Hopefully it goes my way this time.''
Y/N loudly laughed at Alexia's words, taking the Barcelona midfielder by surprise. ''I didn't know you were this funny, Putellas.''
Alexia chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through.
“Y/N…”
The striker turned back to where the call of her name came from, and she was met with the hesitant face of Sarina.
She gave her coach a hand motion that said ‘I'm right there, let me wrap this up'. The Dutchwoman seemed to understand as she gave both players a nod.
“Uh, I gotta go- team stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow then.” Y/N bid goodbye.
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
Alexia watched her rival leave, eyes roaming over her athletic figure that was adorned in an England training kit that seemed to highlight every curve of her body.
The Spaniard had to shake herself out of her daze, not knowing what came over her.
As she turned to head in the opposite direction, she refocused herself on the game ahead and realized she had to put aside the emotions and complexities that seemed to find her every time she encountered the England captain.
It had already cost her one match, she wouldn't dare let it happen again.
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The score wasn't reflective of how exciting and high-pressing the match actually was. Neither side had scored, but there had been plenty of great chances.
It also included a lot of fouls, specifically on the English captain by the Spanish players.
Y/N found herself on the receiving end of another rough challenge, this time from Carmona.
As the referee's whistle pierced through the stadium, signaling the foul, Y/N couldn't contain her frustration. “Fucking cunt.” She muttered under her breath.
The Real Madrid defender, catching wind of the insult, didn't take it lightly. “What did you say?” She exclaimed, responding with a push.
The striker didn't budge, simply giving her an unimpressed look. “I said you're a fucking cunt.” She repeated her words, not one bit intimidated.
The tension escalated, and the players from both teams rushed to get involved.
More of the Spanish players stepped in to defend the young player, throwing insults at Y/N. While the England players tried to form a protective barrier around their captain, not shy of vulgar words themselves.
Amidst the chaos, Alexia took a step forward, signaling to her Spanish teammates to calm down. “That's enough.” She told Olga, placing herself in-between the Brit and the defender.
“Let it go, it's just a friendly. No need for this.” Her authoritative tone resonated, and she managed to diffuse the situation.
Olga, still visibly upset, reluctantly stepped back, but mumbled some more Spanish swear words that had Patri giving her a light push.
Alexia, with an apologetic look, turned around to address Y/N, but Rachel intervened, pulling her captain away from the aftermath of the chaos.
“We need to take more advantage of the counterattacks, we're just giving everything away.” Rachel immediately focused back on the game, whispering her thoughts.
Y/N caught Alexia's intention, but let it go, redirecting her attention to the unfolding match.
In a retaliatory turn of events, Georgia committed a foul against Alexia.
The England captain didn't want it to escalate the way it had only a few minutes before, so she quickly addressed her teammate.
“G, tone it down!”
The midfielder gave a thumbs up and an apology to Alexia, which the Spaniard accepted.
The final whistle blew, ending the intense encounter with a draw. Both sides were disappointed not to walk away with the win, but the result felt right to the match.
As the players exchanged handshakes and words of sportsmanship, Y/N and Alexia found themselves facing each other once more.
“Good match.” They chorused, shaking hands with a content smile.
“I guess it didn't really go your way this time.” Y/N chuckled, recalling Alexia's words from the day before.
The midfielder laughed, relieved there was no tension between them anymore. “It was tough today. Great defense from your team.”
“Thanks, your attacks warranted it.” The Brit playfully rolled her eyes.
They walked together towards the officials to shake their hands, making small talk about the match.
“Hey… your shirt…” Y/N switched topics, pointing at the red Spain jersey.
“Yeah?” Alexia's eyes widened slightly, almost beaming at the fact that the striker would want to swap shirts.
“My teammate, Katie, she's quite the fan and would you do me a favor and like, ask her to exchange kits? She didn't get to play today and it would really cheer her up.”
A tinge of red colored Alexia's cheeks as she realized her misinterpretation. “Oh, uh, yeah, no problem.”
“You don't have to, if you want to keep the shirt.” Y/N noticed the slight expression change in the opposition's face.
“No, I really want to. I'll ask her, no big deal.” Alexia quickly brushed it off, embarrassed by her own thoughts.
“Thank you so much, it will mean a lot to her. Usually she's a chatterbox, but…” The striker trailed off.
Alexia nodded, finding it a sweet gesture of the rivaling captain.
“Uh, actually, could you do the same? One of the younger girls, Claudia, really looks up to you and would appreciate the shirt.”
The midfielder saw her younger teammate lingering not too far from where they were standing, not subtle in observing the captains' interaction.
“She's the small girl that's standing behind you.” Alexia smiled, laughing as Pina pretended to look at the crowd once she caught her Barcelona teammate watching her.
Y/N followed her eyes and gave Claudia a wave, which the girl shyly returned.
“I‘ll ask as well,” she softly responded, “uh, so I'll see you in the Euro's final then?” Y/N grinned, teasingly.
“Yeah, I'll see you there.”
As they parted ways, each player headed toward the teammate they had promised to exchange shirts with.
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“ALEXIA PUTELLAS TEARS ACL BEFORE WOMEN's EUROS”
Y/N read the headline in utter shock, in disbelief that the Spain captain had tore her ACL in training, the day before the start of the tournament.
“You heard about Putellas?” Jill interrupted her thoughts, joining her in the lounge that had been set up for the team.
“Yeah.” She nodded, closing her phone.
“I feel for her.” The Manchester City player sympathized.
Y/N remained quiet, wondering how Alexia was doing- mentally then.
“Are you two friends?” Jill inquired, confused by the captain's silence.
She looked at her older friend, lifting her shoulders. “I don't know. We're not enemies.”
Intrigued by the cryptic response, Jill couldn't resist probing further. “You guys were laughing with each other after the Spain match.”
“Yeah, and?” Y/N chuckled, uncomfortable by her teammate's stare.
The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “What's the story?”
“There is no story, we just had a laugh.” The captain retorted.
“You used to shut down like a toddler whenever someone mentioned her, and now you're acting like buddies together. What happened, Cap?” Jill was properly confused on what the status was with the two football stars.
“I won, that's what happened.” Y/N opened her phone again, hoping her response was enough to satisfy Jill's curiosity.
The older one frowned. “Won what?”
“I won the final. Champions League. She lost.” It was a vague clarification, they both knew that.
“And that makes you friends?”
Y/N sighed, sensing the skepticism in Jill's tone. “You don't get it, Scott- be glad that you don't.”
“So what if you hadn't won?” Jill asked, a subtle gravity behind her question.
Y/N took a moment before responding, contemplating the hypothetical scenario. “There was no way I would have lost that final. Not in a hundred years.”
“So humble you are.” Her teammate sarcastically commented.
The captain dramatically winked at the older woman.
“But seriously… what is that?” Jill made a gesture with her hand, as if she was physically pointing between her and Alexia.
“Don't know, I guess she isn't as pretentious as I thought she was.” Y/N answered, recognizing the wrong perspective she had of the Spaniard.
Jill raised an eyebrow. “She probably thought the same of you.” She laughed.
“I guess so.” The younger player admitted. “Should I send her a message? Like wishing her well or something?” Y/N asked Jill, holding up her phone.
She looked at the striker's phone, considering the suggestion. “Why not? I can't think of one player who wouldn't be happy to get a message from you.”
“Alright…” Y/N mumbled, opening Instagram and pulling up Alexia's account.
Jill glanced at her screen. “You don't even follow her!” She scoffed.
The captain looked from her screen to Jill, and back to her screen. “Yeah, and?”
“Follow her, and send the message.” The midfielder instructed.
“Are you my boss?” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but followed up on Jill's instruction.
| Y/N.Y/L: hey, heard about the injury. hope you're doing alright, and know that a lot of people are behind you. take care ❤️
“Good enough for Miss Scott?” Y/N asked her teammate.
Jill nodded, approvingly. “Look at you, extending an olive branch.'' She teased.
''An olive branch? We never had any problems.'' The younger one frowned, as an olive branch usually meant for there to have been a conflict.
The Manchester City player chuckled at her confusion. ''Well, it's a nice gesture. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''
Y/N shrugged. ''It's a serious injury, she's at least out for like 8-9 months. I can't imagine her not playing with Spain and Barca.''
Jill nodded, a similar sympathetic look on her face. ''Yeah, I just hope she comes out better of it.''
''She will.'' Y/N said, voice full of confidence.
It was still Alexia. La Reina. She would not be taken down easily.
Meanwhile, freshly arrived in her home country, Alexia finally unlocked her phone after a long and hectic day. A certain notification stood out, it couldn't be could it?
She could feel her heartbeat as she saw the message from Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to open it immediately or not. Alexia edged herself, answering everyone else's messages before getting to the Brit's.
After an eternity, she decided to open and read it as her curiosity got the better of her.
Alexia's eyes softened as she read over the words. Y/N's DM was not something that anyone hadn't told her before, but her rivaling captain had taken the time to wish her well and that meant more than Alexia was ready to admit yet.
| alexiaputellas: hey, I am back home now so doing better! thank you for your words and good luck at the tournament! ❤️
The captain stared at her phone, pondering on how their relationship had changed so much- at least to the point where they were sending messages to one another. Yet, here they were, exchanging words beyond the constraints of the game.
She couldn't deny the intrigue she had towards the striker. The phenomenon that was the England captain was unexplored territory for the Spaniard. Everything she had though before about Y/N all seemed to fade as she got more and more glimpses of who her rival actually was.
As Alexia wondered about the new dynamics, her train of thought was interrupted by a new notification.
| Y/N.Y/L: that's great to her! too bad we can't meet in the final now
The Catalan smiled, her fingers swiftly moving over the screen to compose a reply.
| alexiaputellas: yeah, maybe another time!
| alexiaputellas: if you do play against Spain, I don't want you to win, though 😉
| Y/N.Y/L: ooooohhhh, im gonna play extra harder against them now :)
| Y/N.Y/L: are you coming back to England to watch them?
| alexiaputellas: yes, after I've had my surgery!
| Y/N.Y/L: good luck with that, btw
| alexiaputellas: thank you ☺
The messages continued on for a while, mostly staying on the joking side. Alexia appreciated the unexpected distraction Y/N provided for her, her torn knee having become forgotten for just a few moments.
Their next meeting came 2 weeks later as England took on Spain in the quarterfinals. Y/N was wary about meeting their team still quite early on in the tournament, but it would be a great test for them, and not having Alexia on the pitch could only be a benefit to the English- even if it happened due to unfortunate circumstances.
The match was intense, reminiscent of their friendly match the month before. In the 54th minute, England fell behind, conceding a goal. The pressure only intensified as the entire team and stadium looked at their captain, in serious need of a solution.
Y/N screamed more motivation at her teammates, applauding and praising every pass and chance they made. Fortunately, Ella managed to equalize, and Georgia had everyone going crazy as she put one extra in the net during extra time.
The striker jumped into the young midfielder's arms, yelling inaudible things as they celebrated her world of a goal. ''You're a legend, G!''
''Come on, girls! We can do this!'' Millie exclaimed, clapping her hands to hype everyone up to keep their lead.
''Keep pressuring them! It's in our hands now! You're doing amazing!'' Y/N joined in, her infectious energy working on the team as they all nodded and got back to their spots on the pitch.
The whistle blew and the entire squad could feel a huge weight leaving their shoulders, relieved this tribulation was over and they could focus on the semifinals.
In the post-match rituals, Y/N glanced towards the Spanish team. A bittersweet realization struck her- the victory was nice, but a part of the competition was missing without the direct face-off with the Spanish captain. She almost forgot her colleague would not be on the pitch to shake hands with, or to analyze the match with.
She tried finding her in the crowd, but Alexia must have already made an escape to the locker rooms. The Brit didn't blame her, she probably didn't want to stick around to see a rival team celebrating knocking their team out. 
Half an hour later, Alexia watched Irene stroll into their changing rooms- one of the last players to arrive, holding a white England shirt in her hand.
Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached her fellow captain on the other side of the room. ''Irene, who did you swap with?'' She asked.
Irene grinned, unfolding the jersey as Y/N's name and number was displayed in front of Alexia's eyes. ''Our favorite girl,'' Irene sarcastically said, the England player had caused a lot of damage to both of the women, on club and international level, ''she asked me. You just can't say no to that face, can you?'' The defender chuckled.
A subtle flicker of disbelief crossed Alexia's features as Irene continued chatting about the exchange. The realization that Y/N had chosen to swap shirts with the older woman stung a bit, sparking an unfamiliar emotion in her. Perhaps, it was a fleeting sense of envy for the seeming connection that her and Irene had. The Spaniard had played against the Lyon striker numerous times during her stint at PSG.
Despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Alexia's reaction was far from enthusiastic. ''Oh, that's great.'' She replied, her tone a bit more dejected than she had wanted.
Irene noticed the shift in her teammate's demeanor. She raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alexia. ''Something on your mind?'' She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she sensed there might be more to the midfielder's reaction.
''No, nothing at all. Just… surprised.'' Alexia forced a smile, attempting to downplay the jealousy. However, her eyes betrayed her.
The defender raised an eyebrow, her grin only widening. ''Surprised? Why? We've known each other for a long time, played against her a bunch of times.'' She responded casually, enjoying whatever was happening at the moment.
''Yeah, true. Well, good for you.'' Alexia nodded, trying to mask her unease with a nonchalant tone.
The Barcelona player chuckled, starting to recognize what this might be about. She held up the England shirt, a teasing glint in her own eyes. ''You want it? I still have a Lyon one from a few years ago.'' She playfully extended the jersey towards Alexia.
The midfielder shook her head, again forcing herself to laugh. ''No, no. It's all yours, don't even want it, anyway.'' Alexia waved off the offered shirt with a dismissive gesture.
''Alright, whatever suits you.'' Irene smiled, placing the shirt in her own bag.
She left the blonde alone, walking back to where she had settled before the defender had waltzed into the room.
Alone with her thoughts, Alexia couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Watching Irene prance around with Y/N’s shirt left her with a strange mix of emotions that she hadn’t dealt with before, or at least not when it pertained to her teammate and rival.
What puzzled her even more was why Y/N had never asked her for a shirt swap. She wondered if their rivalry and everyone’s comparisons of the two, overshadowed the possibility of something more- whatever that something more was. Did the England captain only see their interactions through the lens of competition?
Alexia grappled with a simple yet difficult question: did she want Y/N to ask for a shirt swap or did it bother her more that she didn’t seem to be considered for one?
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